Digestive Issues and Owl Sightings

What I thought was an IBS attack might actually be a bug or food poisoning or something else. This is the third day straight now I’ve been feeling sick to my stomach and having bowel issues, so it seems much longer than my typical IBS attacks in length. Due to that, I’ve had a rather lazy and boring weekend. I was intending to go to a mental health support group today but didn’t feel up to it and ended up actually sleeping through at least half of it since I didn’t get up until almost 2pm.

Sometimes when I talk about stuff like this it is almost embarrassing lol. I can’t help but imagine old men and women who talk about their daily bowel habits. I promise I’ll try to not make it a daily conversation, but it is part of living with chronic illness and it sucks if you have never experienced chronic digestive issues. Even if I do get an actual stomach bug or something like that, it seems that it takes much longer to get over it now that I have digestive issues anyhow.

One thing that sucked was that my husband went for a walk in the park without me because I was sick and he saw an owl! One of my favorite animals, and a rare one to sight in the daylight 😦 I guess at least he got a picture:

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I obviously felt jealous since I dreamed last night that I found a mama owl and her babies in a tree. I guess I had to one-up him 🙂 Unfortunately, I pissed off the mama owl and she attacked me in the dream.

 

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Family Issues and Ex-Pastor’s Wife Resentment

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So I am going through a couple things right now. For one, my already strained relationship with my mother seems to be going farther downhill. To get a bit of the backstory on our relationship, you can check out this post. Anyhow, ever since I confronted my mother about the past, I could feel her slowly backing away. She now lives in another state and at first she would call me once or twice a week and would call back within a day if I called her. Now she doesn’t return my calls for a week at a time and it has been three weeks since she last called me, even though she said she would call me in a few days the last time we talked.

I can’t help but feel a little snubbed and like I am slowly being phased out of her life, which doesn’t surprise me now that she has remarried and doesn’t need me so much anymore. This has always pretty much been the pattern when she gets a man in her life. I stop mattering as much. Honestly, there have been times I’ve considered going “no contact” because the little bit of contact we have now only tends to make me sadder, and the more I feel put aside and ignored, the more I hurt.

I’ve also been dealing with some pent up resentment I didn’t even realize I had about the years I spent as a pastor’s wife. For the first 11 years or so of our 15 year marriage, my husband was a pastor. In the past few years we have kind of drifted from the faith and become agnostic, which is a huge change from what our lives used to be. However, I just realized when having a conversation with my husband the other night, how much being a pastor’s wife for so many years deeply bothered me.

For one thing, I constantly felt judged by the congregation and compared to previous or other pastors’ wives that the congregation knew. I was not old-fashioned. I was not meek and submissive. I did not want to teach, play piano, or lead anything. It just isn’t my personality. My social anxiety makes leading anything a horrifying thought for me, but yet, I found myself almost forced to sometimes be in these roles I hated. I was pretty much forced to teach at times, and while I loved the kids, I felt panic at the responsibility. No one helped or trained me, I was just thrown right in. At one point, I had a panic attack and burst into tears about my fear of teaching in front of the head pastor, his wife, and my husband and yet none of them seemed to take it seriously and pretty much just patted me on the shoulder and said I would be all right. But I wasn’t. Even when I found out I had autism and tried to explain to the head pastor why that made social things so hard for me, his response was that everyone has those problems. But no – everyone does not!!!

My husband now realizes how many mistakes he made by pushing me. He is sorry and has genuinely apologized for putting pressure on me and making me feel like I had to do things that made me anxious to the point of sickness. He realizes now that he learned that behavior from his own parents who pressured him constantly about being involved in church and often tended to ignore his feelings if he didn’t want to do something. Like most people, he was acting out the unhealthy patterns of his family as an adult and unfortunately, I got the brunt of it.

Literally Drowning My Sorrows…

Well, today has been a really shitty day 😦 I only got about 2-3 hours of sleep last night, even with my Seroquel. Something happened last night that really upset me and made me just want to run away. Unfortunately, I have nowhere to run to.

Today I decided to go to a local park with a dam. I knew it would be crazy there with all the recent rain and snow, and felt that maybe seeing the turbulence roaring inside me portrayed in front of me might make me feel somehow better:

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Even way above the dam, and behind a fence, the water was so violent that I got splashed pretty good. You can’t see it in the photo below, but my pants were much wetter than my jacket. Even my hair got a little bit soaked by the spray:

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I was crying a good bit of the time I was there, just from all the stuff going on inside me, and I think one poor guy thought I was going to jump in. He came over and started telling me horror stories about people who had jumped in and died. One was truly sad about a family dog that fell in, so the mom jumped in to save it, and the dad jumped in to save her, so the two kids watching behind the fence watched all three of them drown. Such a horrible story. It made me forget my own pain for a little bit and feel empathy for those poor kids.

Hypomanic Night

Maybe I should have suspected yesterday that when I was feeling so good, it might be me slipping into hypomania a bit. As the evening wore on, I could tell that the good mood was going a little bit off the rails. I started feeling extremely antsy and a bit hyper. I may have started driving my husband a bit nuts by constantly asking him silly questions and yelling across the house to him.

Suddenly, I found myself with too many thoughts and plans in my head to concentrate on any of them. I felt pressure to get lots of stuff done, even though there was really no need to do them all right now. By the time bedtime rolled around, I really didn’t want to take my medicine (Seroquel) because I knew it would make me go to sleep and I didn’t feel like sleeping, I felt like staying up all night to clean out and reorganize the spare bedroom.

Fortunately, I listened to the little voice of warning in my head that told me that if I didn’t take the medicine, it might feel good to stay up all night right now, but that this could easily spin out of control again like it has in the past when I have gone days without sleep and even ended up hospitalized. So I DID take the medicine and went to sleep. However, even today I can feel the traces of hypomania hanging around, trying to convince me to just throw caution to the wind and enjoy the high.

Arguing on the Internet, Should I Disengage?

I really should know better by now. I really should learn to just disengage with ignorant or narrow-minded people who refuse to even consider any viewpoint but their own. I should learn that it takes away from my happiness and peaceful life by wandering into pointless debates with people who I know I’m never going to get to even consider an idea that has any nuance or depth to it.

My therapist today encouraged me to disengage from these people, to stop letting them level personal attacks at me over simple differences of opinion. If I want to stop being bullied or pushed around, I have to stop allowing it. Of course, none of this applies to you guys (my blog followers), but more has to do with people on other social media who I happen to be acquaintances with in my real life. Even if they are distant familial relations, I have no obligation to let them project their crazy, illogical, rigid way of thinking onto me.

If you are going to tell me that I am evil, immoral, or dishonest just because I don’t believe what you believe, I really don’t need you in my life.

My Weird Psychiatrist Makes Me Laugh

Everything went fine yesterday with the psychiatrist. I tried to bring up everything that I mentioned yesterday in my post, although to be honest, my psychiatrist is a little bit of a weirdo (but in a good way), so often what he says kind of throws me for loop and has me wondering “what the heck”? We also often get off subject, and may have spent part of the session talking about “Black Mirror” (the Netflix show), Dante’s Inferno, Fight Club, Josef Mengele, and menstrual cycles (that last one was definitely not my choice of topic lol).

One humorous part of the session consisted of him trying to convince me I should consider having children of my own if able, because I would make a great mom and there are so many “stupid people” procreating that we need more intelligent ones to do so more (his words, not mine). Like I said, he can be an oddball.

We also talked about aspergery stuff, like social deficits I had as a child. When I told him a story about how I got in huge trouble in first grade for laughing at a kid who couldn’t read (because I honestly didn’t understand that something that was so easy for me could be hard for others), he burst out laughing and thought that was hilarious. His reply to that story was, “tell the truth, you just thought that kid was stupid”. Like I said, he sometimes throws me for a loop, but he does make me laugh.

Psychiatrist Visit Anxiety

Today I see my psychiatrist again. These appointments make me nervous because there is always worry that my meds might get changed and I might have a bad reaction to another one, like I did the Cymbalta. I also often wonder what to share with him. I want to be as honest and open as possible, so I get the best treatment, but I also sometimes have a tendency to overshare or over-explain things that might not be pertinent.

I figure the things that I should share with him most this visit are my “episodes” of rage and paranoia the past couple months, even though they only lasted a few days to a week each. I have actually had a couple “episodes” of feeling almost hopeful and optimistic recently, so that is good I think. It was really odd that during one of these times of having at least a few days in a row of feeling pretty good, I had one of the worst days I have had in a while, where I was so horribly depressed and so full of despair that I sat on the couch holding a bottle of pills and wishing I could take them all and maybe not have to wake up again, but of course, I know that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Especially to my husband. Oddly enough, the very next day I was back to feeling fairly decent overall.

I also always wonder how much to address my physical problems with the psychiatrist. After all, he isn’t a doctor who treats those conditions, but those conditions greatly affect my depression and anxiety levels. When the physical pain is extremely bad for a few days in a row, that tends to bring on a kind of despair that is hard to cope with. It blackens my view of my entire future and makes me honestly feel sometimes that life isn’t worth living if you have to be in this kind of pain. I probably should take my Tramadol (opioid pain killers) more during those times, but I am afraid of becoming dependent on it if I take it too often.

Well, thank you for listening to me overthink things as I always do lol.