Living in Uncertainty

It was less than a week ago I wrote about how accumulation affects my nervous system. The health scare I was writing about escalated daily, sending me sideways into days of silence while trying to still keep my responsibilities. While the steri strips are still on, I am relieved to say that the worst didn't happen and I'm OK on this. 

Was about to start something important and new next week and felt like the week where I should have been preparing and celebrating had been ruined with the health scare. I thought I have a few more days to finally be able to be safe and take a deep breath...and another blow came. It's not the outcome that is even leading the emotions right now. It's the uncertainty, because at this moment the stability isn't there. Yes, it might work out. And I could also have everything crumble beneath me. My mother was here when I found out and she tried to say what I knew was going to be some "good thoughts" bullshit and I barked "Not a fucking word about me thinking something good. That's a bunch of bullshit." She shut up. 

With uncertainty in a dysregulated nervous system, possibility becomes probability. I was talking with a friend who went into a speech about how I need to distract myself, how being scared won't change anything, how I'm just making myself more upset. I explained that it's not that I lack rational thought. It's not that I'm purposefully feeling that everything is catastrophic and don't have reason. As we spoke more she made a profound observation "What would be the opposite for you?" Severe depression and an emotional plummet. "And which feels worse?" I said the debilitating depression. When my mind is going over every possibility it's to attempt to make sure I'm not blindsided, as even if the news is horrible, I feel braced for it. And when I'm spiraling and flipping out my nervous system feels like at least I'm doing something and still attempting to survive. It feels better than the other side which is desolation. It's more comfortable to catastrophize than shut down.

I've had nearly 2 years on a roller coaster and it feels like the attendant has left the park. I don't know if I'll be able to handle the next drop. I feel sick, I'm dizzy, and it just won't end. The people on the ground are waving and saying the ride isn't that bad, while I am scanning to see if it's about to jump the track. I'm bruised from this ride. I have whiplash. It's easy to explain roller coasters when you're standing on the safety of the platform. It's a different conversation when you are strapped into a ride you can't get out of.

I've had 6 months of ketamine at this point. While still drowning in what is coming up, I'm more stable. Though I had a moment last weekend where I thought if I get one more hit of bad news I may even take them up on going to inpatient. Uncertainty, though I'm painfully aware is all of life, still wrecks me.