If Wishes Were Fishes

My mother in law is in for an extended visit, two to three months.  I know some people would have a serious problem with this but it is a blessing to me, I wish she could stay longer.  She is company during the day, helps me with the baby and helps me keep the house clean.  I worry that she judges me but we tiptoe around my mental health and pretend everything is fine.  Probably not a healthy way to live but it works for us.  I feel like if I am going to lose my shit, now would be a good time.  There is even a nice mental hospital right up the road from us.  I don’t want to lose my shit, but I feel like it’s been a long time coming.  Going off of one of my mood stabilizers may have been a big mistake, I am definitely cycling again, not just mildly in the dumps all the time. My recent bout of hypomania proves that, caffeine induced or not.  I need to get my shit together before we move because I know that the stress of the move will be a big trigger.  I wish I could find the right cocktail of medications. A combo that magically has no side effects and tiny pills so I don’t choke on them.  I wish coffee didn’t make me feel so weird, I need the energy but I’m going to have to stop drinking it.  Just another drug on my list of substances I have abused.  I wish I wasn’t a natural born junkie.  Come to find out my current PDoc didn’t get the memo about my drug abuse history, she seemed shocked when I mentioned it the other day.  Good thing she didn’t give me any good stuff.  I almost wish she had.  My soul is fighting me, something is wrong, I wish I knew what.  Some plains were flying low last night and shaking the house, I wish I knew if it was real.  Triggered my anxiety either way.  I gained another pound, shit.  I wish I wasn’t so fat.  I’ll stop now.


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