I have the occasional reminder that I’m not “fine,” and that’s been happening this week– I’ve run out of my klonopin, which I take at night with the rest of my meds, and the last two nights I’d be surprised if I got more than five hours sleep at all, combined.
I don’t feel hypomanic, exactly, because I’ve been productive at work, but not unusually so. I don’t think I’m depressed, or in a mixed state where I’m whirling and angry and sad all at once. I’m not super-angry at anyone (even my ex-) at the moment, and I’m not experiencing moments of road rage on my drive home.
But I am anxious. Anxious about the new job, about all the things there still are to learn, to forget, to screw up, and those have been waking me up with thoughts– BAM– two hours into my attempt to sleep every night, even though they’re essentially small, mundane things that I can and will take care of when I get to work Monday.
Still. I am so invested in this new job, this new start, this chance to not screw up what I’m emotionally overinvesting in, probably, that I’m hyper-anxious, and the last few nights of waking up with no sleep and then bolting awake after attempting to read for a few hours and letting myself get drowsy again is a reminder.
I am not “fine.” I am still worried. I still need serious drugs to regulate my sleep cycles. And I’d better get my ass to the pharmacy (now that my COBRA’s kicked in) to pick up those meds, since I know disturbed sleep will mess my moods up pretty quickly and badly, and that makes me even more anxious.
It makes me want to go into work, to put myself at ease, just a bit. But I can’t. I need to learn how to relax in this new job, to not self-soothe with more work, because that’s what I did when I was practicing law. Instead, I need to learn to get done what I can, set aside what I can’t, prioritize, and not be so freaking neurotic.