Worried Mother Hen

Below you will see just how my moods can turn, in the blink of an hour.  Though I can’t control the switch, I’m getting better at recognizing it and recognizing my stress triggers.

Argh.  I feel like I’ve hit a dead end.  I’ve been knitting, making paper flowers, or tinkering with the cameos all week long.  Well, today the stuff I make is utter crap.  And I’ve torn up the scarf I was knitting.

These developments tell me two things:

1) I’m obsessing,

2) I’m on an up-swing in my mood.

Which means one thing:  I need to be very careful.

About an hour later:

My therapist says I’m becoming amazingly self-aware.  Though I know she views it as a blessing to me, I don’t feel so kindly about it.  Today is becoming a 3-4 day.  I am able to keep a mood journal these days (when I remember to write the number down, that is).

I just watched my mood completely disintegrate over the last hour.  I lost complete control of myself and it was as if I was watching in a cloudy fog as I went into helpless mode.  I called J at work and told him I just didn’t think I could take care of Rock Steady or get Be-Bop to his doctor’s appointment by myself.  On days like this, it is hard to even take the dog out.  And I’d forgotten to take my medicine this morning.  So, in the last hour, J has come home to tend to me, Rock Steady, Stella, and a little of the house.

More often these days, I know what bends my mood out of shape.  And I know what this is about right now.  I don’t like to admit it, but I am worried about Be-Bop.

Be-Bop has a bump under the skin on his neck.  We’re having his first doctor’s appointment about it today in a couple of hours.  I’m trying not to worry about it, but I’m a nervous wreck.  It’s soft and moves around a little bit when you push on it. I have no idea what any of this means.  But I’m freaking out about it.

What does it mean?  I have no idea.  I’m not like J.  J doesn’t worry at all, ever, really.  Even when someone is dying, J has this esoteric “What will be will be” and “Appreciate every moment without dwelling on the bad” mentality.  His philosophy is that he can’t change what will be, so he doesn’t need to worry about it.  I mean, he will do what’s in his power to help, but he knows he’s not going to help anything by getting all upset over something.  So, he’s able to focus on what he needs to focus on and go on with life until he has to deal with something head-on.

I’m not like that at all.  I obsess.  I’m already thinking “cancer” and the child hasn’t even been to the doctor.  It’s a little bitty bump not even visible to the skin, we found it accidentally last week when I was taming his crazy hair, I think.  Somewhere deep down, I know that my child will be fine.  He will.  But, the bipolar mommy part of me is going nuts.

And, back to the bipolar mommy part not because I’m not worried about Be-Bop because I am, but because I don’t have more detabils to write about Be-Bop’s condition right now.

The bipolar mommy in me has an active imagination and a hyperactive mood-reactive system.  I was almost all ready to go off on J on how our house is a mess and how I feel like I’ll never whip it into shape or be creative again when the light switch of my consciousness flipped.  I realized none of my upset was about the house or the creative dead-end I felt I was at.  It was about Be-Bop worry.  It was about being a normal mommy.

So, before J got home, I took my meds.  J got home and tended to Stella and got Rock Steady’s lunch.  I finally told J that I just didn’t feel like I could go to this appointment with Be-Bop by myself, that I wanted him there too.  So, he is going to go with us.

And I am calming down.  A little crying, a little time to myself, and I’m a tad bit better if still way nervous.

Will post about Be-Bop after we get back from the doctor.

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