Aye sheesh kebabs. It’s been a funny couple of weeks. Month. I have being honing my mood swing skills something chronic. Funny how the slightest thing sends me spinning into a spiral of despair. Take my last post for example. You may notice it’s been a while. And to be honest. I’m not that happy with it. But unfortunately my ipad didn’t want you to read the really, really good and pertinant version which I wrote on the train last week. Because it ate it. Just as I was posting it. Suddenly half of it was gone and I was left watching the memory of those clever words and phrases disappearing off into my mental distance. I swore. A lot. And got very cross.
I don’t get cross much when I’m well. I’m a very mild mannered creature. Too mild mannered, it has been said. But when my mood slips I get very impatient and crotchety with everyone including myself.
However – it wasn’t really the losing of work or temper that was problematic here. It was that something hadn’t gone as I had expected it to. My plan was ruined. (Not that I’d strictly speaking made a plan to write and post the blog and be happy with it – but once I pressed “Publish” that was clearly what I expected it to do.) If there is one thing which I have come to realise can pre-empt an almighty push on the Sarah Mood swing-o-meter, it’s a plan gone awry. Silly little things. My husband announcing he’s getting the 10.20 bus when i thought we were going out at noon. Totally stupid and irrelevant. But the lack of an ordered, reliable, predictable plan makes me deeply uneasy. So I got off the train in an almighty huff – furious at Northern Rail, Apple, 3G, the Gods and the universe for their conspiracy against me. But no problem. It was a friday – usual plan, go for a drink in town, come up with an idea for food, either at home or out, and ease out the troubles of the week. Except for whatever reason, we can’t agree on a plan. We drink more than I want to, I feel stupid for not being able to make a decision, I get upset, I feel stupid and guilty for getting upset over a stupid thing, and suddenly I am thinking of all the stupid things I have ever done and I’m hating myself and thinking my husband must hate this and he will leave me or something horrible will happen and everything will fall appart and it will all be my stupid fault and oh god why don’t I just die. Or something like that. Ridiculous. I know it is these days. I can see it for what it is. My illness going into overdrive at the slightest derailing trigger. So I try to plan.
It’s always a sign I’m going into a bit of a manic phase, or a really wild up and downy phase. When I start planning. calendars of what we will do, or eat, on different nights of the week or month. Who will do what tidying. When will I write or work on some project or other. I never stick to them. I usually meltdown shortly after. But I think it is my subconscious telling me – you really need structure. Structure, routine will keep you sane. Unfortunately it doesn’t send a care package of fortitude or willpower with this insight and so I never manage to hold to my elaborate and beautifully drawn out plans. Planning my wedding for the last two years I think kept me pretty well. I was able to be single minded about that. Had a goal which had to be acheived. Now that time has passed – I lack focus again, and the roller coaster returns. My challenge is to try and find a new goal I can believe in and use it like a trellis to prop me up.