The Inertia of Moving Forward

So we're moving. We've had the luxury of doing it slowly, so it hasn't been too bad in terms of packing and hauling stuff. Well, certain circumstances have contributed to us doing it slowly, but there is obviously an upside to it. There is a downside to it, and that is the effect it has on my Bipolarity.

The anticipation of such a large change causes me some anxiety. A lot, actually. The fact that we are doing it slowly is, in many ways, an exercise in mild torture. I feel a little paralyzed by it, and plays into my favorite weakness: Procrastination. There is a lot that I could be doing during my week at home with the kidlets, but I don't. I find the whole prospect very overwhelming. I could make a list and tackle a little each day, but I don't know where to begin.

The move is a good one for us. We are going to be living with a relative of mine who needs some help, and likewise she provides some help to us with the children. She also gives me an anchor during the times when I feel lost and alone during my days. She has tried to learn more about Bipolar Disorder and has become more patient with me now that she understands that I can't help the fluctuations in my moods. (Previously, this was not the case.)

It was a relief to learn that I haven't been completely lazy all my life. Don't get me wrong, I am lazy to a point. But I do get overwhelmed the majority of the time and am paralyzed by it. I don't know what to do and enter this almost zombie-like state. I almost need someone to take me by the hand and guide me into activity to mobilize me. Sometimes that's hard for me to accept and I feel like a child, which I resist. Mightily, I might add. I'm coming to accept that this is help, and not nagging. Mr. PolarBabe is becoming my best motivator. I wait for him to tell me what to do. He's encouraging when he does it. I really like this guy. (LOL!) Seriously though, I am perplexed by how much I need his direction. It frustrates me that I will just sit there and wait for him. How I can no longer self-start on a project, even when I can think of something that needs to be done. Invariably, those thoughts lead to the recognition of something else that needs to be done, and then another thing, and another thing, and then I am trapped in my chair and I cannot mobilize. Previously, if I didn't do something, it was because I just didn't want to.

It's hard not to be frustrated. I feel like such a child. When I am finally mobilized, I can do so much. Sometimes, it can be hard to stop. There's almost an obsessive quality to it. I used to say it's all or nothing with me, no in-between. (Duh, I'm Bipolar. It still confounds me that I was shocked when I was diagnosed.) I thought I was having a mini-mania or something when I went on a mopping tear last weekend. I had to force myself to be satisfied with a "decent" job. It was my psychiatrist that said it was obsessive. How nice to throw a new trait in the mix.

Now, waiting for the actual transition of the move is difficult. It prevents me from developing any real structure. (Never mind the fact that I seem to have doctor's appointments up the wazoo, and so does this relative we are moving in with--I take her to them.) I have so much anxiety over it all. It contributes to my ass being nailed to the sofa and my withdrawal from all things human related. The closest thing to structure that I have is taking my meds in the morning and the evening. Even eating is a tremendous effort. If we didn't have protein bars in the pantry in the morning and/or Mr. PolarBabe didn't put something in front of me at night (thank God he cooks) I'd probably starve. My kids are lucky they eat. (Ok, that's an overly dramatic statement and they eat just fine. I feed them regularly, but I admit that I'm grateful for frozen waffles and the like when I wake up in the morning.)

After I was hospitalized two years ago, I set about making a structured existence for myself and was devoted to getting better. I was a model patient, and made a fairly good recovery. Some problems led to the deterioration of that structure and invariably I got sick again. I'm not making such a great recovery this time. The residual effects of the trauma of my hallucinations and continued paranoid episodes, combined with the changes looming on the horizon have me wrapped in a blanket of inertia. I just want it over and done with.

I'm not very patient, am I?

PolarBabe