Saturday, November 12, 2011

Stream of Consciousness

Or unconsciousness. Whatever happens at 4:56 a.m on a Sunday morning when you have a thousand things running through your head, a thousand things to say and yet, nothing to say. How is that even possible?

My thoughts are screaming past, it's like I can see them. I've over booked myself for the day, all commitments I want to keep and must keep. And it's a Sunday. Isn't this supposed to be a day of rest? I think somewhere along the line I forgot about that. And I worry - a lot - about getting just the right amount of 'rest' or quiet time. If I go too hard then will I get depressed again? Will I get worn out, get sick and start to spiral out of control? But if I rest and have too much quiet time, then the same thing happens. Finding that balance is a difficult thing for me. I don't know if there has a been a week where I've found it. Days, perhaps, not not a full week.

I got to see my new niece yesterday, and yet I didn't. It was so frustrating. I had them over at the worst time - when I was planning dinner for all five of us, plus the two of them (my brother and his wife) and two more friends. So I was busy cooking. And all wanted to do was hold that sweet little 19 day old baby. She's the most adorable thing, obviously. Making all those baby noises I crave so very, very much. Then, since I didn't hold her at first and got busy, I began to get afraid. The more I looked at her the more I wanted another. I mean, I always want a fourth. And I know we can't. And hearing those sounds, watching those stretches that I want with such a fierce intensity just got worse as the night went on. I don't want to fear my niece. I love her with all my heart and she's as close to a baby as I'm getting.

My heart broke for a friend, yesterday. She spent some time in a mental hospital, just like I did. She's so young. So sad. Thinks people are talking. I remember that so much. So sure that everyone you looked at just knew. Knew you were crazy. Knew you weren't in control of your thoughts, your brain. I tried to help. To listen. To tell her I've been there and come out the other side. That it's possible. Look at what you can do if you do.the.work. Go to therapy. Take your meds. Forgot about those people you think are talking. They know nothing. You know. But it's hard. Oh, God, is it hard. I tried to help.

With all the people around yesterday Sarah was beyond distracted. She played for a long time in front of my niece as she slept. That was really nice. But as soon as my other friends arrived and my husband came home, well, Sarah was a mess. She didn't eat. She ran through the house like a mad woman. Groups of people just get her so wound up - except at school. She's in kindergarten and already - in November- reading and writing on a first grade level. Her math skills are crazy good. I can't keep up with her thirst for knowledge. She has no problem focusing in school. At home? Well . . .

I don't know what I'll do about today. I guess I'll talk with my husband and come up with a game plan. Try to figure out how to meet all my commitments. And not do this again. I need to plan much, much better.