I had overcome the serious anxiety about moving, then Mark came home from Chicago with all his worries and anxiety about things we needed to do and wondering what all we needed to do, and the happy feeling went away. I was thinking..."Wow, he really brought me down. When I was by myself, I was up, now I'm not." He can't stop freaking out about getting our house ready to put on the market in January, but to me, that's over two months away before we can even talk to our realtor because his company is paying for our move and the realtor, so I want to tell him to lighten up, but that would just make him mad. I know he doesn't understand how much stress and anxiety it gives me and how I need to avoid stress at all costs to stay healthy. I'm doing the best I can, that's all I can do. I don't think I ever play the "bipolar card" to anyone, but in this case, I may have to in order to keep my sanity. And its not an excuse, it's the truth.
I've been having these deep conversations with people - but not actually having them WITH them, just mock conversations in my head. But they are very intense, so much so that I'll be interrupted when I see someone and it will break my concentration, and I wonder if I was talking out loud or moving my lips to the words that were in my head. It's hard to explain and I don't understand why I'm constantly doing it. It's as if, at that moment, the conversation is actually taking place until I'm interrupted and brought back to reality. It's not as crazy as it sounds, but...it's pretty weird for me.
I am really, really tired. I'd like to write more, but the allure of going to bed is much stronger than my need to write. So...good night!