Leg + Head = Misery



The combination of the trapped nerve causing my leg to be in pain and my head its usual mess it is a strange old-time to be me. This morning was the worst it’s been with my leg not really playing ball at all, giving way beneath me and causing me to slow right down to a snail’s pace. As the day goes on it seems to ease off because I’m using it more and the tablets kick in.

My real problem is that my usual early warning systems for my head and my mental state are off – too much distraction from my leg to allow me any kind of focus. I’m more than aware that things are not right just now but     because of other meds and the pain it;s difficult to nail down where I am in the usual flow of things.

It’s become second nature for me now to deal with the low-end of my manic-depressive phases; there’s a slump in my attention span and a distancing myself from things and people, a sense of emptiness and the over-thinking of the minutiae of life. Instead what I’m experiencing is cloudiness and a sense of being lost. I can’t be certain what is happening and where I am in the cycle – it’s quite confusing.

Then there is the fact that Jill’s sleeping pattern is changing in preparation for the third baby Duncan. She’s going to bed before nine most nights and this leaves me disoriented in the evening because we had a pattern that I was used to, but now that’s off. I’m more than aware that once the next munchkin arrives patterns of any kind will largely go out the window, so I suppose it’s all just in preparation for that.

The real struggle is still with sleep. It’s easy to get to sleep but waking up and wanting to get out of bed – even more than most folk – is tough. Depression does pull you in and want to keep you in bed and avoid the world and you have to fight that side of your mind to get up and going. The sedatives don’t always help this as they allow ad encourage a deep sleep which leaves you drowsy in the morning anyway. With the leg thrown in, I’d rather not move.

Thankfully I’m doing a job I enjoy, so it’s not as if I don’t want to go in as I have felt the past. Also my expert alarm clock shouts at me to get up and get on with it – she is usually up getting the kids sorted and keeps the biggest kid right too.

Not being in control is a problem for me – I like to feel I have everything where I want it and that I can sort things out when they are wrong. Bi-Polar doesn’t work like that and you are the beck and call of the chemicals in your head; you take instruction rather than hand it out. The disorientation is a daily frustration and it has knock on effects to memory when you are trying to remember the simplest of things.

It’s the metaphor I’ve used before of a series of book shelves: When I’m hyper I’m pulling out the books willy-nilly to keep up with the ideas and speed my mind works at; when I’m “normal” all the books are in order and I can find everything I need to; and just now with the depression, all the books are on the floor out of order and it’s difficult to find anything.

Pain and confusion. Not a great combination


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