See that mountain over there?  That mountain is the state of my mental health.  At the very top of it sits a cabin called recovery.  A cabin I would very much like to live in all my life, or at least most of it.  At the bottom is a hospital.  The hospital being the lowest point I can get.  It’s where I end up when I’m as far from the recovery cabin as I can get.  I can live there too, though gratefully for less time than I do in the recovery cabin.  Sadly, though, I don’t get to spend much time in the recovery cabin.  Not if you count the past 31 years as a whole.  Most time is spent at various points in between.  Oh, sometimes I’m half way between.  Sometimes I’m in the snowy area, just shy of the peak and cabin.  Sometimes I’m basically on the roof of the hospital.  That’s really probably the worst place to be.  That is the point of needing to go ahead and drop down to hospital admissions, but not realizing it, or more accurately, being in denial about it.

Where am I now?  I’m about 1/3 of the way up the mountain.  It isn’t a horrible spot.  I’m wise minded enough to know I’m in rough shape.  I’m still working on medication combinations.  I’m still working on the energy and desire needed to self sooth in healthy ways like writing and reading.  The fact I’m writing so much is actually a good thing.  I’m actively fighting to get better.  I’m just not in the snow yet.  I still have a way to go; and much further to go, to get to my recovery cabin.  But, at the same time, as long as I’m careful, I’m in no immediate danger of landing in the hospital.

The problem is, as hard as I’m fighting to climb that damn mountain, the weight of stress is bearing down on me.  It isn’t necessarily pushing me further down the mountain, but it sure as hell isn’t allowing me to climb up to recovery.  The thing is, there is no medication to cure stress.  Self medication or otherwise.  Medication and mental health coping skills allow you to handle it better, maybe, but some stress is beyond that.  Especially when the meds aren’t perfect or close to perfect yet, and you’re too jumbled from the lack of oxygen from mountain climbing, to use your coping skills properly.

What is this stress?

1. Money – Oh a lot of that weight is about to be relieved.  The tax return is hitting any day now, as well as my BIL’s school loan money.  It’ll allow us to catch up on bills and buy the necessities we really need.  We’ve barely been able to get much beyond toilet paper and garbage bags recently.  However, while we’ll be able to catch up right as disconnects are happening, what we really need is to be ahead of the game.  That is essential when you are on a fixed income where most of it hits once every 4 months.  Only one things is allowing that get ahead to happen:
2. School – I really need this semester off but it just can’t happen.  Not if I want to prevent things like electricity being shut off and using my books for toilet paper.  It’s a sick trade-off.  A horrible trade-off.  The loan money overpay I will get will allow us to pay enough ahead that the stress of money will improve, though not be completely gone.  In trade I have the stress of trying to learn and keep up a grade when I’m in a mental state that barely has me functioning all 7 days of the week.  Not that I could avoid functioning during the week because:
3. House full of kids – I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, to be honest, but I have taken on the responsibility of watching 4 additional boys after school.  Plus all days on snow days and national holidays and teacher work days and other breaks.  I love these kids dearly and I was their father’s only option, because no one else would step up to the plate, but this literally means I spend my evenings, and sometimes full days, watching 7 kids when I can barely handle 3.  Luckily I have Pat’s help but even when he does most the work, the fighting and general chaos and noise is enough to slam me down the mountain, if not for the fact I’m using sure force of will, love for the boys in question, and refusal to bail (causing their father to have no one to help him out) keeping me in place.

I think I’ve basically super glued myself in place on that mountain.  Strapped and roped myself in, refusing to fall any closer to the hospital.  However, being roped in place means I’m not getting any closer to recovery.

Plus, I’m not sure, but I think I feel what was apparently a thin rope in charge of keeping me in place, starting to snap.  And if it cuts in two, I will fall so hard and fast into the hospital, that there will be a hole in the roof from where I landed, and the force kept me going straight through to admissions.