Trust is a quiet thing you don’t know you have, till the loss of it leaves words colliding in your head.
I took an Ambien to sleep Saturday night, and then I woke up Sunday morning and took another Ambien because I couldn’t bear to be alive right that moment and sleep is the closest I can get to death without hurting anyone.
When people have trust issues, it’s usually projected externally. I… I don’t trust myself to not ruin things. I don’t trust myself to use meds judiciously… in fact, I don’t trust myself to do a little taken-for-granted thing like sleep unaided, sleep un-nightmared.
For sleep, Ambien doesn’t work as well as Seroquel does. For managing my moods, I’ve been avoiding the latter because a side effect is that it makes me sleep upwards of 12 hours. By Monday night it seems a viable solution to this thing, so I go back to it. I hate meds.
After a hazy stumbling around four days in a row, I feel better. I stay out of bed for more than 30 minutes on Wednesday. Then my period starts and I realize I had been PMSing. It’s been getting worse the past months.
Moments like this one, I want to call loved ones and beg, “do you understand what I mean when I say it’s not my mind or my thoughts; it’s my hormones that are out of whack?” I don’t trust anyone to understand how this really feels or how it affects me.
Some of the bad decisions I’ve made in the past few months have been made during the PMS window. I need to learn this pattern to avoid ruining things when it comes. Maybe hibernating without gadgets will be the way to go, or shutting myself away from the world.
I’ve spent the last three years furiously studying my patterns but just when I think I’m getting a handle on triggers and acquiring navigation skills, things hit me from other directions and I realize how multi-layered this thing is.
I want to trust people and situations and I really want to trust myself. I want to be calm all the time not restless hands and mind racing. I need my body and mind to cut me some slack.