My mom has decided I’m manic.1 Her basis for this decision is that I’m grumpy and I have been trouble sleeping.
I’m grumpy because I feel bad. I feel bad because I’ve had a bad fever & stressed headache for a week, had my (weeks late) period for almost two weeks and was spotting for almost a whole week before that, and been nauseated and have had a messed up appetite for three months. I’ve also had heartburn and reflux that’s still acting pretty badass after 80mg of Prilosec and 2-3 doses of four Maximum Strength Gaviscon tablets per day. And the nausea and headaches aren’t helped by waking up to the smell of tuna or Vienna sausages, which my father loves to eat for breakfast.2 Oh, and there’s the whole continuous injuries and continuous family drama. After all of that, I’m allowed to be grumpy. And the heartburn, injuries, and headaches are enough to mess up my sleep.
So, no, I’m not manic. I just feel like shit lately. And I’m expected to do everything that I would do if I felt well without complaint. And the longer I go without bitching, the more likely I am to go into a massive bitchfest. And I always suppress my bitching because it’s not just expected but because I don’t want to say things that would upset people.
It doesn’t help my mood/general bitchiness that I haven’t had therapy in a few months. I tend to start having freak out fests when I miss too much therapy.3