04
Nov
09

Fucking H1N1 Mania Fear-Mongering. And I feel like crap.

Right.  So.

After all the hype and propaganda about the dangers of H1N1, I read some interesting stats.  Apparently we are more likely to die in the bathtub, or from a slip and fall that we are to die from H1N1.  Not only that, but more people die from the regular old flu than from H1N1 – like, at least twice as many.  Chances of dying from Swine Flu are roughly 6 million to 1.  So I have not been overly concerned.  Not only that, but having chosen not to vaccinate my children against any of the regular old diseases, I wasn’t about to stand in line for the H1N1 vaccine.  And I continue to stand by that.

And then <insert scary music here> it arrived.  First one kid started talking about having a sore throat, then the next, I got a little tickle, and the final kid started coughing.  Doctor at the clinic confirmed my suspicions.  Phoned ex-husband and new wife – they too are sick, all the same symptoms.  Sweet!  Good times.  We are now quarantined with the plague, one and all.  And Tamiflu is our new bff.

So I will now have 3 kids home sick from school, while I am also sick as a dog.  Oh yes, and I am supposed to maintain some sort of work presence with my clients, whose deadlines don’t shift because I fell ill to the Swine Flu.  I know.  Blah, blah, blah; whine, whine, whine.  Whatever.  People in Africa are starving, as my dad used to say to me.

And through all this, I am trying to wade through this potential diagnosis I’ve been given.  The doc who brought it up wasn’t sure, and called my psychiatrist to confer.  The more I find out about Bipolar II, the more it feels like a fit.  As in, like a glove.  Which would partly – or perhaps completely – explain why, although I am sick with the frikkin’ Swine Flu and tired as hell, I am still awake at 2:28 in the morning, with neither mind nor body settling enough for sleep.

This business of mania, it’s a weird one.  I guess what I experience is technically hypomania, not mania, strictly speaking.  But it’s weird enough, regardless.  And it seems to be getting worse.  At first, I thought it was just a reaction to getting off the Oxy.  Like a rebound effect.  But the longer this goes on, the more concrete it seems to become, and the less I feel like this is a temporary state of being.  This hypomania seems to be recurring, as opposed to a one-off, like I’d hoped at first.

These nights that I can’t sleep…these temperamental outbursts I can’t seem to control…these thoughts that I can’t slow down, or even follow coherently half the time…uh, what was I saying?  Seriously, I can’t seem to get a grip.  And part of me hates it.  Part of me feels like, finally, I can identify the crazy that has been growing in my head.  There have been moments I just couldn’t control my temper – I kicked a hole in the freakin’ wall yesterday, because my kids made me so crazy angry.  I hate feeling like I can’t control my temper – in some ways I am the most patient person in the world, and in some ways I am so not.  It just seems to get away from me, and I hate that place.

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