So, there is this thing called chaos. It’s a noun that is defined as complete disorder and confusion. And I am drawn to it like a moth to light, like bees to honey, women to shopping malls, you get my drift. I’ve been this way for years upon years. Only being really cognizant of it over the last few years.
Yesterday I saw my psychiatrist and I confessed my sins. I had made the choice over a week ago to decrease my mood stabilizer medications because I was tired of the side effects, namely weight gain. I had enough, and I took matters into my own hands, even though I knew that I should not make changes without her guidance and approval. Knowing that my choice to mess with my medication regime could cause instability in mood and potentially a devastating setback.
Truth be told I had been doing really well. I was happy, able to focus, productive, spirited and a pleasure to be around. I was stable. Life was good. I was sleeping soundly, no disturbing dreams. The anxiety that I was suffering from when driving was at an all-time low. The worst-case scenario thoughts were coming less frequently and when they did appear I was able to squash them with a quick one-two punch of CBT techniques. Most importantly, there was a lack of chaos. So, of course, I had to change that!! And I did just so by mucking around with things. I feel like a witch at a cauldron when I do this: One frog’s toe, a hair off a Deadman’s finger, two squeezes of nectar from the honeysuckle and poof, a magic formula for chaos creating by yours truly. Because how can I exist without chaos?
Is it that I can’t handle being in a good place? That I have this need and desire to purposely self-sabotage? That to exist I need there to be drama? Where does this abnormal drive to ruin what good I have come from? Why do I do this? And most importantly, how can I stop?
And that’s a real humdinger there because I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get myself to accept that life is SUPPOSED to be good. Life is SUPPOSED to be balanced. Life is SUPPOSED to be enjoyable. So, why do I fight it so hard, and to the degree of making decisions that thwart my progress and overall quality of life, to make it difficult?
I know the first thing I can do is to take all my meds, and just the meds I have been prescribed, the way that they were prescribed, in the dose that they were prescribed and take them at the frequency indicated on the label of the bottle.
When the good times start to roll in, I will stop and embrace them. I will tell the thoughts in my head that are telling me to lash out, to throw a fit, to make something out of nothing to just plain stop. To not allow them to take hold and request that they leave me be, the same way that I would request that a bully stop harassing me. Because, in a way, I feel like what I battle in my head is a bully. And I am tired of getting beat up on and then going home with bruises and a bloody nose.
I will engage in self-care so I can ensure that I am taking care of all my needs. I will limit myself from taking on too much (my real got for self-destruction). I will learn how to just be in the moment through the art of mindfulness.
I am a warrior. A warrior who has in the past thrived on chaos and destruction, but today I draw the line in the sand, no draw a line in the quick-drying cement, that I will not allow this to continue. I am in control, and I can overcome this. I am strong, capable, persistent and will persevere. Chaos will not win.
Sprinkled Cupcakes and Fairy Dust,
Photo Credit: unsplash-logoTim Scharner