It physically hurts to be mentally ill. Here's how I'm dealing (or not, some days.)

"Depression" by AnnDeeF

(Content note: If you have struggled with child-loss or difficulty conceiving when you want to, this is probably not a good post for you to read. Particularly if you don't want to read about someone "throwing away" something you dearly want. It's not everyone's path. I'm sincerely, terribly sorry for your troubles, and I hope you find peace. Do not read this if someone being childfree-by-choice is something it hurts to read about.)

Narrator voice: Her energy levels did not stay at a good level.

It's been a while. I'm sorry. I've been maintaining, working some things around, re-organizing, and getting necessary care.

Very importantly, I'm getting my tubes tied on November 29 - less than two weeks! I've known since I was twelve years old that I don't want to have any children of my own. For a long time, I didn't even like children -  not even when I was a child. (Tweener. Whatever.) I was an annoying child when I was younger, and I'm well aware that "I hope your children turn out just like you!" is the most potent backhanded blessing-curse a mother can utter. Also, I haven't even had the finances or energy to feed and care for myself well for most of my adult life, and I can't keep a plant alive -- what would I do with a larval human?

I very much resent the fact that, in American culture, I'll be more recognized as fully-human when my body no longer is perceived as belonging to a hypothetical future-person, rather than to me. There are still those patriarchal asshats who will perceive my body as belonging to my future spouse rather than to me, but that's not something I can fix. This is much easier. My body will, for the first time ever, feel like it's truly as much my own as it ever will. My mental health is already improved by this, and these Fallopian tubes aren't even vacating the building for another 12 days.

For what it's worth, I adore David's son, and soon as there's one less thing weighing on my mental health, I hope I can quasi-stepmom better.

I had a good string of what I thought were good mental-health days, in the last month but after my first therapy appointment since March, it's abundantly clear that these were just days I was better at repressing that shit because, in the workplace, it's frowned upon to visibly not have all of your shit together a thousand percent of the time. In this time, my energy levels... Well, they maintained pretty well. However, it's also busy season at work, and between doing a kick-ass job for our clients and potential clients, and then working out my body at the gym, I didn't have much left for frivolities like reading and blogging. Y'know, those things I actually like the most. Forget about karaoke -- I haven't done that since August.

Self care has come in the form of snuggling with David to watch Babylon Five every night, carving out whatever time I can every other day or so to meditate, getting mostly-adequate sleep, actually remembering my skincare routine, and organizing my side of the closet. And the bathroom. Damn, my bathroom-organization game is boss as hell.

To accomplish all this, I took an extended weekend with my paid-time off. I slept for almost the entire first day. The second day, I went to town on everything I'd been meaning to do since I moved here. I scrubbed. I vacuumed. I dusted. I pulled out winter clothes and put summer clothes into storage. I weeded out things for donation. I completely organized my wardrobe, right down to impeccably folding underwear and bras. I cleaned my makeup caddy and jewelry box with Clorox wipes, and painstakingly organized every little bit of their contents. I took my favorite, out-of-commission boots for repair, and bought the supplies to do my neglected mending.

I look much more put-together now that I can just thoughtlessly grab a few things.
Being somewhat goth has its advantages - everything already matches. 

On the third day, I slept for half the day to recover from overdoing it on day 2. Complete with Advil and the heating pad.

Then, I was in pretty good shape until the end of my first day back at work. Aging combined with the constant low-level muscle tension that's just part of #anxietylife -- basically, ow. Even on the best days, there's always pain. Now that I'm back in treatment, I notice it. It's gotten worse to a point that I wonder if I have undiagnosed arthritis.

About a week ago, I burst into tears at bedtime because, on that particular day, my ankles, knees, fingers, wrists,  elbows, and shoulders all hurt to a point the Advil couldn't take the edge off, so naturally, my anxiety-brain took it to "something is terribly wrong, what if you're dying?" For the first time in about a third of my life, dying actually would suck. Stuff has finally gotten good, and I want to be here for it. Thanks, anxiety-brain. You're a jerk.

Anyway, if any of this is relatable, here are five dealing-with-it tips that work for me (I'm not a doctor -- don't treat this like gospel or sue me if anything hurts or doesn't make you feel instantly like Superman):

1. Over-the-counter pain meds are your life now. Deal with it, and be careful with the damn dosages. You need your liver for a while. Also, heat treatment is awesome. Buy a heating pad if you don't have one. (If you're a cis female, you already have one.)
2. Magnesium and potassium are both great for muscle tension. I don't recommend taking magnesium if you have to be alert for things, though. In my experience, it relaxes the mind, not just the body. 
3. Yoga makes it hurt worse for one to four days, but then you start to actually feel better. There are a lot of good YouTube videos - go for the ones that have "gentle" or "bedtime" in the title, at first. Rodney Yee has a great five-minute morning sequence that I swear by. 
4. Try and meditate for at least five to ten minutes a day. It feels hokey, but it works, dammit.
5. If you find yourself blessed with a good-energy day where things hurt less, whip up and execute a quick plan to get your surroundings more organized. Think of what you wish was quicker or easier when you're tired, cranky, sick, or hurting. Then, arrange your stuff accordingly. Hang up your clothes by color and item-type. Pants with pants, shirts with shirts, etc. If breakfast is hard, portion out cereal into Gladware bowls in advance or DIY some easy smoothie packs you can just toss in a personal-size blender cup with the milk or juice of your choice. 

Trust yourself to know what will work best for you, then make it happen while you still feel good enough to do it. Future-you will thank present-you. Take it one day at a time.