Daily Archives: June 1, 2014

The Wine Time Experiment

Bex had this idea to do a Mythbusters thing where she tracks her mood and mental state as she drinks wine. So I am going to do the same.

I am two glasses in. Thus far all I feel is a bit sleepy and my head is beginning to ache.

More likely that’s the cookout, which was had in the rain which a bunch of my brother’s high school friends I didn’t know. They’d had a redneck golf tournament in town so all these people were out golf carts hauling little trailers with canopies. It was bizarre even to me. The teeny bopper friends of my brother’s asked, “Rebecca, do you have an English accent?”

Morons. I said, “I’m a dumb hillbilly and even I know people from England have English accents.” I don’t think I made any new friends. Well, sarcasm is my superpower, sue me. I’m a mouthy bitch at times. Usually when nervous. And all those unfamiliar people asking dumb questions made me nervous. Then my brother butted in and told me I should crack down on my kid and she’d behave better. This from a kid twice charged with stalking and restraining orders put against him. Yeah, shut the fuck up. Beyond me how someone with the emotional age of 8 (documented and proven, he gets disability for it) gets a diploma. He already smashed the fender of his mom’s SVU because he’s so…challenged. But ya know, he’s the family saint.

Whatever.

Okay..Onto wine time.

8:22 pm- Nothing. Headache. Ass trash. It’s too fucking humid. I can’t breathe. Give me a machete to slice through the fucking air, please.

8:52 pm- Floating. Still coherent and sober but relaxing. Bex tried beef jerky and did not like it so I won the lottery. I LOVE beef jerky, have since I was 5. It is snack of the gods. Even my cat likes it, proving british people are weird. I mean, wtf  kind of country doesn’t sell beef jerky? WEIRDOS

9:31 pm- I think Becca is drunk. Maybe not literally, but she claimed in her blog she is making me a music whore and that I love Greenday. First, I’ve been a music whore since age 8. I prefer music to people. Second, even as a snarky wenchy joke, saying I like Greenday is NOT remotely funny. I have less shame for downloading a Fresh Beat Band song for my kid.  WENCH.  I feel decent. It could turn on a dime, though. I have mad munchies. Not hunger, but idle boredom munchies. Jerky, brownie bites. Hell, I may be in the cat food next. I’m random that way.

9:43 pm- I just proclaimed “I love you man, I love everyone right now.” Yeah, the wine is kicking in. Cos ya know, I hate people equally. As long as the mood keeps going up, it’s all good. When it starts going down, then it’s all ass trash from there. (And the proof is that I miss my demon seed. It’s nice to get a break, but the place feels so empty without her incessant chatter and screaming mimis. Yeah, I know, I’m an enigma. Which is a polite euphamism for “crazy bitch.” I LOVE that song.)

10:04 pm-last night, I was wine wench. Tonight Bex has offered to fill the position. Excellent. I am far too busy peeing every half hour to get my own drink. Apparently I handle my alcohol fine but my bladder has issues. I am doing well as is Bex. This is cool. She just put a cd on and ya know, my control freak nature didn’t even flinch. First time for everything, I guess. My brain keeps saying, ‘Well, she has a submissive personality and she’s just that nice, it doesn’t intimidate you.” I don’t think it’s that simple or shallow, though. I think we just mesh that well. As she told someone earlier, “Niki is my other half.” I feel the same way. Two halves of the same coin.I suppose in the long run, it’s not about common interests or things to talk about or whatever. I think it boils down to personality type. Extrovert begets extrovert, introvert begets introvert.

Too me fucking long enough to find a fellow extrovert. And I had to IMPORT her.

10:18 P.M.- I am to the point where reality is becoming a slight blur. Like, awhile ago, I SWORE the clock said it was after 11pm. Now I go write thisw and it’s only after ten. My brain is fucking with me. Or more likely, the wine is. C’est la vie. It’s all good. AC/Dc is playing, the wine is flowing, our moods are meshing…And I still think a country without beef jerky is a third world country full of freaks.

10:38 p.m.- I think it’s safe to say I am officially inebriated. I am listening to a Greenday song and not vomiting. Plus, I’ve been dancing around and singing happily. WTF? Happiness is a goddamn disease, ffs. I don’t wanna be diseased, I wanna be healthy. Bring back the gloom damn it.

Wine says…Not right now. It’s like a Magic 8 ball. “Better not tell you now.”  “Time will tell.” “It is uncertain.”

I;m talking gibberish and I think it’s adorable. I listened to teenage girl babble tonight and tried not to have a brain bleed, yet people find me annoying? Whatever. We are listening to “Cell Block Tango” from “Chicago” soundtrack and this song is…hysterical. I agree. Some guys just can’t handle their arsenic.

10:53 pm- We are listening to “MMmBop.” Yes, shameful, but a really upbeat song that is like instant anti depressant for me. Bex has blogged that I am talking to my cats again and it’s weird (I am guilty, and it’s not weird, they are my furchildren!) plus she is claiming I forced her to listen to 30 Seconds To Mars. I don’t own a gun, I can’t force a 4 year old to do shit, so yeah, make it plausible, biatch. Besides…I like 30STM, in spite of myself. Leto may be a reputed douche but the guy has talent. Though I must admit he is the first guy I have ever seen with long hair and thought, “Oh, god, get a haircut.” (And put the eyeliner back on, for the love of fuck!!!)

11:07 pm The Wench just said I take longer to pee and wash hands than she does. Damn that competitive streak of hers, she is trying to make biological processes like urination a competition. I don’t have a competitive bone in my body. She’s just being all ass trashy. H0wever, if you need plotting or manipulation skills…I am your sociopath. Survival of the most cunning, bitches.

11:16 p.m. My day is complete. I have mocked Greenday something fierce. Take that, incompetent wine wench! Now…It’s Wednesday 13′s “Transylvania 90120.”  SAWSOME!!! No doubt Bex will mock my headbanging. Like I care. Wednesday makes me happy. And I have been assimilating like The Bord. When my sister pulled out of Dad’s tonight, she was blaring Wednesday’s “Dixie Dead.” YESSSSS. You WILL be assimilated, resistance is futile bitches!!! WWWD? What Would Wednesday do????

12:28 a.m.- Bex is about to pass out on me yet she is still extolling the virtues of Greenday and Billie Joe Armstrong. Um…Dude? Outside how hot Billie Joe looked in the video for “21 Guns”…I don’t care. I am shallow that way. Music either makes me feel something or it doesn’t…and I’m not feeling Greenday. Like most everything in my life, I find a couple of things they’ve done likeable but mostly…NOT. Now give me an EARGASM like 30 Seconds to Mars does…I am sold. Until then…Underwhelmed. And for the record, I NEVER set out to like 30STM. It just kinda happened. Because I heard a song (The Kill) and had no idea who it was but I LOVED it and that is all that matters.

I’m in it for the eargasms, dude.

12:35 am- I think I too am hitting the wall. I’ve barely written a page and a half in four hours. I get more than that done with the Uzi around. Apparently being drunk does not lend to one’s typing, nor creative, skills. Ass trash. Oh, well. I am gonna sleep in and enjoy mommy free time while knowing she is being well cared for.

So…That is the end of my post lest I pass out before I can finish it. For once, my mood went up instead of down and I didn;t even go manic. Excellent. (I have hiccups ,fuck fuckity fuck.)

Niters to all, and to all, a good fright. I mean, good night.

Ghouls do that.

 

 


The Girl Least Likely To…

What exactly do you do when you’ve had the therapy, taken and continue to take the meds, do all the self care you can, apply the coping skills and it still doesn’t prevent these down cycles mixed with cognitive issues from taking you down? My brain is fucking Swiss cheese and I would probably forget to go to the bathroom lately if it weren’t for my colon issues. The holes in my thought processes are worsening… I can remember pieces but not the full picture, words are on the tip of my tongue and do not come to me, my ability to multitask has decreased and my working memory is shot. I can’t get my sentences out and get immensely irritated when people don’t give me a moment to figure out what I’m trying to say. Sounds, light, temperature, the feeling of certain things on my skin make me want to scream. I feel assaulted by normal, ordinary things. I get around this at work by always writing things down and in my daily life by keeping several lists in my iPhone to remind me of this or that. My attention span, focus and ability to concentrate are shot. I don’t feel like “me” unless I’m alone with my thoughts or working on projects in my home. I can’t normally interact with people as of late unless I’m playing a role, such as who I am at work, or how a customer is supposed to act and I find myself withdrawing. Hermiting. My anxiety is at a level it hasn’t been in years and it seems I’m eating my Klonopin like TicTacs.

I’ve had vivid, disturbing dreams for years…I now find myself having vivid, disturbing thoughts and urges I have to shake from my brain and they leave me thinking “where the fuck did that even come from?!” My agitation level is as such that the sound of someone’s fingernails tapping against anything makes me want to lunge and I’ve never, ever been a violent person.

I work 2 jobs, live alone, pay all my bills, make all my own decisions, and am a fairly intelligent, well spoken, creative woman….and I can’t make any of this stop. I rapid cycle almost constantly but this is different. This feels like my brain is sick and becoming sicker… This feels like me digging my nails into what sanity I have and hanging on for dear life…but falling anyway into somewhere I haven’t been in years.

I’m educated enough in my disease to understand that many things going on in my life would drive anyone mad, or into a clinical depression, especially someone with BPD. That logic doesn’t help me however. I feel like I should be able to make this all stop so I can just remain a functional human being, capable of menial shit like going to the grocery store or watching a movie with a friend without it seeming and/or being so daunting and exhausting.

No one in my life knows it’s this bad. No one. It helps nothing when they do and I don’t think anyone could handle the truth anyway, without treating me like I was mentally retarded instead of mentally ill. You can only increase a persons medications so much when they’re employed and I certainly cannot add a medication fog on top of what ever the fuck is happening to my brain right now. A hospital stay really does nothing for some other than over medicate them for a few days, make them feel like they’re surrounded by crazy people (because well…) when they just want to be at home, feel shamed by being there in the first place while sitting in some stupid group therapy circle that helps no one who functions above a High School level and put you so far behind on your bills that you face eviction and cut off notices. Yeah. What a wonderful thing to come home to.

There’s nothing. Not one single fucking thing I can do that I haven’t already done or am not currently doing to help maintain any better. The circumstances surrounding this depressive episode are far from over and haven’t even gotten to their worst. I’m so. Incredibly. Exhausted. With life.

Cold Turkey Update

Update: Cold turkey off generic seroquel since 5/18, have had no anxiety attacks since. Have been meaning to write, but spending too much time on FB, and getting distracted by other things (i.e. conspiracies, etc), and making a new/old acquaintance into a friend. She is pretty much trapped in her home, disabled now. We used to work together and know similar hells. I can't help but try to help her too! :) So, I'm working on it. Got something going already. Should be accidentally offensive to someone, and have plenty of swearing. Grab a bar of soap! I'll be back! :D

Happy Anniversary bpnurse!

That’s right, folks, today marks my one-year anniversary of blogging here at bpnurse. It’s been a year of learning, a year of ups and downs (metaphorically as well as psychologically), and a year of developing a writing style that’s all my own.

Though I haven’t yet become rich and famous on account of my blog <insert sarcasm here>, I’ve managed to build a community of over 150 followers and a readership that has literally gone international. That makes me proud, and I think of my audience every time I sit down to write. Yes, my work is basically about living with a serious mental illness, and being a niche-market blog it will probably never reach the heights that Natasha Tracy’s and Kat Dawkins’ blogs have attained. But I’m happy with it, and as my statistics climb slowly but surely, I can see that a growing number of visitors are too.

Today also marks the beginning of yet another challenge: WordCount Freelancing in the Digital Age’s 2014 blogathon. It was the contest that launched bpnurse last June 1, and to be eligible for prizes one must write 30 posts in 30 days. Normally I have no problem coming up with something to write about, but lately I’ve been slacking because there’s been a serious lack of drama in my life (thank you, Big Pharma and Dr. Awesomesauce). So it truly will be a challenge to write something fresh and interesting each day of this month, but I think I’m equal to the task.

For those of you who are joining bpnurse for the first time, either because of the WordCount contest or because you happened to stumble over my blog on your way to something else, I’m a 55-year-old registered nurse, wife, mother, and grandmother who is literally in the fight of my life as I battle the highs and lows of bipolar disorder. It’s taken a little over two years, a lot of med changes, and many, many hours logged on the aforementioned psychiatrist’s couch, but I’ve finally achieved remission from my symptoms, which range from debilitating sadness to insensible rages to manic delusions.

Will it last? Given the nature of the disease, probably not. But it’s wonderful to feel the way I imagine normal people feel and still be able to experience life in the inimitable way of the bipolar: to see the world and everything in it as poetry—the highs, the lows, the wonder, the pain, the sheer intensity of it all, sometimes overwhelming but almost always worthwhile. :-)

 


Sleep-Twitch-Roulette (I kid you not)

I spoke too soon, drat it.  Even on the teeny starter dose of Effexor for just a couple of (mildly miserable) weeks, I’m still finding fresh hell- I mean fresh side effects! Sleep-twitching?  Seriously? So here’s the skinny: I wake up the past two mornings to find I’ve driven my poor husband from the bed. […]

Friends in the time of Colic

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So I’ve been at my friends all weekend, is not exactly turning out like I expected. I haven’t seen her in a year and a half and she’s my best friend from college, so I was way overdue for a visit. She has a one and a half year old son and six week old baby girl and her husband is out of town for work for a few weeks so when he got in touch with me and asked me to come up to see her while he was gone I figured why not? I knew it was going to be different, but I don’t think I was fully prepared for all the changes. Granted there a special circumstances making things a bit more difficult, including the new baby having the worst case of colic I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I just was suprised to see this, actually how much my friend was struggling, and throughout the weekend realizing how little I felt competent enough to help. After all, nothing makes you feel more helpless as a woman and you have a wailing baby in your arms when there is absolutely nothing you can do to fix it.  my nerves are totally shot, and I’ve had to excuse myself and do some deep breathing several times throughout the past few days… mostly while locked in the bathroom hiding send it my friend and see how much I was struggling dealing with all this for just a day or two when she has to survive it every single day.

Back in the day we really truly believed that we would become Sex and the City fabulous women. Or at least like Friends. Today we had the full realization in just a shared look. Life is not what was expected or hoped for – or at least as portrayed on TV as possible.

It’s pretty damn upsetting.

This has all actually made me reevaluate my ability to become a good mother – I mean, I could barely keep it together during this afternoons multi – hour stretch of colicky screams. How would I cope permanently?