Trouble is brewing

               I seem to have forgotten my own rules, lately. I’m dancing on the edge of depression, I’m having trouble sleeping, my heart is apparently developing a will of its own and tries to burst out of my chest, I’ve gone done it and gotten fatter, I’m developing either some nerve damage (if I’m to believe google) or my blood sugar’s too low (but I’m afraid to check) because I’m sweating mostly on my right side of the body, from head to toes. Darn golly I’m … screw this, I’m good. I did forget my own rules. Shit happens, all the time. If it isn’t happening now, wait a bit. Nothing’s changed that much, even if my brain’s trying to tell me to break a window and make a run for it. My brain’s doing it to me, again. I’m good, actually, and I’ll keep saying that all the way to the morgue if I have to. The authopsy might hurt, though, if I were to believe the jokes.

               What I’m experiencing at this particular moment is exactly what I’ve been warning everybody these past few months. I’m experiencing something called burnout – without actually having one, and I’m actually having to google words because I can’t seem to find them. My brain shuts down, like … crap, I found the word I was looking for these past 10 minutes. It’s “overload”. I’m having an information overload and my brain shuts down. No, not now, but at least once or twice a day. I’m driving around and all of the sudden I’m drawing up blanks, I can’t remember my decisions for the past kilometer or so. I can’t remember how I chose left over right, I can’t remember blinking my tail lights, I can’t remember changing gears, nothing.. All I’ve got is suddenly waking up some distance and everything’s normal. I’m in the right gear, I’m driving exactly where I’m supposed to be driving and yet… Zero memory. Crap. I do know I’m ill, you know, and I know it’s a common symptom of it – but my medication should have prevented this. Unless.. Unless it’s something else. Unless everything I’m experiencing is actually a brain overload. Double crap.

               I’ve googled it. I know what it is. I don’t know how to deal with it. I have exactly zero success to show for my efforts. Dissociation. There’s a word for it. Does nothing for me, though. Fuck it. Yea, I’m usually self conscious enough to avoid curses but this shit more than warrants it. That’s not me. I’m telling myself that’s not my case. I don’t care if it’s true, it might not be, after all it’s on google. I need sleep, constant, uninterrupted sleep. I’ve been sleeping less that 6 hours every night for almost a month now. It shows. I’m on beta blockers and half the time I feel my heart trying to break my ribs. I’m shaking in sync with it. To hell with this heat. What I’m after is anger. A feeling to remove another feeling. I’m not done with it, not by a long shot. I don’t give up. I won’t give up. I need anger to stop this depression, I need anger to coerce my brain into fighting the same battle as my body. I need those two fighting together against a common enemy. I need activity in order to get better, to get my brain working. Hell, I’m writing again which is a good sign. I’m half way there.

               This may be a sign I’m multitasking again when I know I shouldn’t be. Take one task at a time, see it through, then tackle the next one. No prisoners. No stray thoughts. Focus. Left, right, look then describe. Plan. What’s next? What comes after this? Write it down. Now forget about it. Focus on what’s not done. If something’s bothering me, write it down as a next objective then put it away. Order. Deep breaths. One, two, three, mouth open, exhale. I have everything written down, I have a list, I’m good. No use worrying about things to do, they’re on the list. Do the first thing on the list. Deep breaths. Cross it, it’s done. It’s done so no need worrying about it. Worry about the next item. Breathe. Do. Something’s come up? Add it to the list. Forget about it, the list is there to remind me of it. No need to remember it until it comes next on the list. The list is life. No need to worry. It’s there. If I need it, I can open the list and read it, but not now. Breathe. Do. Cross it, it’s done. Breathe. Next.

               I feel better. It’s all in my head. I control my thoughts. Lists, they’re my way of telling my brain how to work. Calm. Breathe. Slow down. Breathe. I am better.

Post scriptum:

               I know what made me like this. It’s about seeing pictures of those drowned kids. I love my son, I’d go crazy if anything happened to him. I understand the reasons but that’s hardly something. Damned newspapers. I can’t help not going nuts about it. My head hurts. I’m giving him an extra hundred kisses and hugs, just because. To hell with everything else.

               Oh hell. Oh. I can’t believe this. I’m actually so much better. Half an hour worth of writing and thinking and this pressure I was feeling for a month actually went away? What the hell? Palpitations stopped. I’m… wow. Just speechless. This is all it took.. I love you, son. I love you so much. I don’t care about the future or anything else, just saying this made me better. You made me better.


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