Crazy, I Was Crazy Once…

It has been such a long time since I’ve written anything. Or perhaps I should use the proper vernacular-long time since I have blogged anything. Reading back over those last entries took me right back to those moments, those feelings, and those thoughts. I fancied myself a good writer, interesting, and well versed. Now there have been so many changes in my life, I wonder if I have the strength, courage, and patience to tell it all.

How do you describe going crazy? It’s like a panic attack, anxiety attack, loosing your very grip on reality for one provided by your mind. My mind, filled with vengeance for not being allowed to rest, concocted a series of false truths from which I drew my incorrigible conclusions about the world around me. To say simply that I was not sleeping enough does not quite describe the ongoing rat race I ran for nearly 20 hours at a time interrupted with 3-6 hours a night of dead sleep. The kind of sleep where you are asleep before your head hits the pillow. Your body turns and does not bother with comfort as your mind speeds past REM toward rest before the carefully selected ring tone chimes the end of another chance.

At the time building up to my stay in the mental ward of a hospital, I was working 40 hours a week full-time 8 to 5, working my business at least 6 hours, looking for time to spend with my family, and making time for my husband. If I lay down to rest and I did not fall asleep immediately, I quickly deduced that I was not tired and thus needed to do something constructive like finish unpacking the apartment. There were some days during the month and a half I lived this way that I went to work with one hour of sleep.

The job I worked was perfect for me. I did the same exact monotonous tasks everyday including a “field trip” to the bank and post office. I liked having a desk with computer, a break room, my boss being right there in the cubicle next to me. The credit department at least was in a room at the end of the building. I was always polite and up beat with everyone there but I believe I was not fully accepted. Maybe because I was so young and hopeful, cheery, or perhaps it was because I tried to gain new customers from the pool of co-workers. Either way, I just knew, behind the “smiles” and quaint “hello”s and “goodbye”s there was not an open armed acceptance of me.

At any rate, the week before my episode I was working my business and working my job with even less sleep. The stresses of my life at the time also included trying to purchase a plane ticket online and only having the use of one vehicle while my husband worked nights and I worked days. That Saturday was a big day for my business, luncheon and meeting, and that Sunday I was visiting a different church with a good friend. So on Friday 13th of April I left work with high hopes for the weekend and never knowing that my life balance would never be the same again.

to be continued….

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