[You might like to listen to John Mellencamp’s version of “Wild Night” as you read this post, or end with WordPress’ suggestions to read Where the Wild Things Are]
Yesterday I had some wild mood swings àpropos of nothing. I had some lesions looked at by a dermatologist (not cancer – yay!) and a prescription filled. My mom and I cleaned the house, did laundry and made pot pies from scratch – one for the freezer and one for dinner.
And all day I was getting in touch with some feelings about ECT (see this post). I wasn’t sure it was working and I was still having bad effects from that bifrontal ECT last Friday. I’m still having trouble accessing words and concepts, as well as having memory problems in the middle of thoughts – far worse than my menopausal brain had been doing with lost thoughts the last 3 years. And I can tell that I’m not able to make decisions well, that my frontal lobe that examines consequences isn’t up to snuff. I notice it when I’m driving that I have to stay extra focused and think through basic stuff to make sure I’m safe. With all this still going on, I cancelled my ECT appointment for today.
But then there were the feelings. Sensations. Impulses. It wasn’t until today that I realized there was a mood swing or two in there as well.
We were watching tv when I had a sudden sensation that I’d like to lie down, but then I felt that if I did lie down I would angry at myself cuz I didn’t want to fall asleep yet. But then I had a weird sensation as though mold dough from an orthodontist was in my mouth taking a mold of my teeth, a feeling that was making me angry too. I stopped the show we were watching and I told my mom about the feelings, as an example of the disordered thinking I was having and sensations and impulses. As we talked I got more and more in touch with some rage and worried that if left alone I could hurt myself or one of the cats or an appliance. These feelings are NOT normal or usual for me. At.All.
I thought maybe a good cry would get it out, and my mom let me cry on her shoulder for several minutes. Then she offered me a back rub – for nearly an hour! – as we reminisced about me as a little girl. So healing! I was able to be calm again and to get to sleep, though I woke up every two hours last night. Phooey!
Today I have an appointment with my psychiatrist and tomorrow with my therapist. Will this ever get figured out? Will I ever feel good again?