Daily Archives: June 6, 2014

Depression Comix #188: Life Eraser

Laura P. Schulman, MD, MA:

Another great one by Clay. Really got me thinking: if I came across a “Life Erase” button, what would I do? And what awaits on the other side, if anything? And if nothing, then….would I want to erase all the good times and good things in my life? This comic got me thinking about the good things in my life….would I want to erase THEM along with all the horrible things that have happened in my life?

Originally posted on depression comix (WP.com):

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Some Change Is A’Comin’

I did a couple of things that were monumental for me today.  First, a little background.  I’ve been feeling like shit.  I’m tapering off the Clozaril, in fact, I took my last dose last night.  I REALLY really really really don’t want to have to take it any more so I REALLY need to pull my shit together.  I’ve been doing a lot of self-sabotaging behavior, like 1) Using marijuana, which I know makes me more depressed and 2) Isolating and 3) Watching shit tv.  I got together with a friend today and confessed to her what I’ve been doing.  It seemed like a logical first step might be to burn the ol’ Medical Marijuana card, so we went ahead and did that.  We ripped it up, then burned it in an abalone shell, then burned some cleansing sage.  It felt like a good and meaningful first step.  When I got home I got out my stash of pipes and pot and threw them in the dumpster.

The final thing to go was a bag of charcoal that I had bought back in January when I was suicidal.  At the time I wasn’t allowed to drive and didn’t even have my car at home.  I had walked down to the grocery store and bought the charcoal with the intention of lighting it in the garage, thinking it’d probably create enough carbon monoxide to kill me.  Holding on to that bag of charcoal all this time was like holding on to the idea of suicide as an option.  I need to take it off the table.  I need to stop considering suicide as an option.  I can’t do that to my dear family and my beloved nieces and nephews.  I need to value my life and do whatever it takes to make it worth living.

So, bye-bye charcoal.  Good-bye, marijuana.  Hello again, twelve-step meetings!  I do not have the ability to use substances in a controlled or low-key manner.  I need to embrace sobriety.  I am beginning a new chapter to the saga.  Wish me luck!


Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Isolation, Bipolar Pothead, Bipolar Sobriety, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Hope, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader

Taste Buds, Sweet Cravings and Stress

Why We Crave Reaching for the candies at work when things get hectic? Stress at home have you going for the Ben & Jerry’s? Researchers may have discovered why you reach for the sweets when you’re feeling stressed. “Sweet taste may be particularly affected by stress,” said lead author M. Rockwell Parker, PhD, a chemical […]

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Virgin no more

Okay, I am officially not a “tattoo” virgin anymore. Bex offered to pay for my tattoo, and I had the same design picked out for over 15 years, just never had the money. I mean, I was so devoted to this design, I put “red tigr” on my license plate ten years ago.

So the artist has a cancellation and she worked me in today and the estimate was much higher than what it cost for the size I wanted to the tat. I was, at first, driven and fearless. The longer she made me await (to sterilize and cool the equipment, to have a smoke break) the more my anxiety climbed. I am a “rip the bandaid off NOW” type girl. Being in a holding pattern with anticipation building…It sucked.

Then she was ready for me and I was expecting this bone shattering agony based on what others had told me…And it never came. It was uncomfortable, by a like a dozen thumb packs being driven into flesh. But the true “pain” never did come. Hell, the amnio I had while carrying my kid was worse. I’m not saying it was pleasant but I never made a sound, never cried out, never backed down and said stop. I was proud of myself, because truth be told, I am a wuss when it comes to pain. I did well.

And I was so afraid the locals would fuck it up and make it look like some prison caricature…It turned out beautifully and the colors show up brilliant on my skin. I am sooo happy. Bex granted me a 15 year dream in the making. I keep looking in the mirror to check it out, because it turned out better than I had dreamed of. It didn’t change my life or my mindset, but after 15 years…it was like, finally, I followed through on something. I am eternally grateful to Bex.

I got mixed reviews. I told my dad and he said,”Why’d you go on and get a tattoo? There was a story in today’s paper on all the diseased you can get from tattoos.” My mom and sister congratulated me on my courage and the way I stuck with this same design for so long.;

Family is mind fuck ass trash at times.

My shoulder is sore, but I’ve had sunburns that hurt worse, so it’s ok.  I am so happy, so pleased with how it turned out. So happy I didn’t let the anxiety make me chicken out.

It almost makes up for the anxiety and mood crash that came with the day’s progress. I just can’t abide (the dude does NOT abide!) by the rapid shifts between stable and nutsy kookoo.

tat

I LOVE this tattoo. It is awesome and I owe it to Bex and the artist. Thank you both from the bottom of my cold black heart.

So…I lost my tat virginity today and I have ZERO regrets.

 


Organized Chaos

OK. Now that I’ve spent the last 48 hours freaking out and identifying some of my more pressing problems, here are a few of my stray thoughts from today. Please excuse the chaos; it’ll give you an idea of how my brain works under stress.

Problem #1: I need to go to the unemployment office and re-do my resume, but there’s just one small difficulty: I have somehow misplaced my ability to focus. And what if I need a different type for a non-nursing job? Who’s going to hire me when nursing is all I’ve ever done? I don’t even know WHAT the hell I want to do. I wonder how long our landlord will let us go without paying the full month’s rent. We can’t afford to live here anymore but we can’t afford to move either. I can’t even plant tomatoes this year because we’re probably going to be homeless and you can’t grow tomatoes in a shelter. My flowers look nice though, and I can tell a couple of the hydrangeas are going to be purple this year. Last year they were bright pink. I wonder what colors the others will be. Will we be here to find out?

Problem #2: Damn. I am physically agitated, and I need to channel the energy but I can’t figure out how. I yank a few weeds and give up, distracted. I think about walking up the hill just to get rid of some of the antsy feeling, but then my broken toe starts to burn and reminds me that it STILL hasn’t healed completely. Is this fucking toe EVER going to stop hurting? How am I supposed to do any kind of job if I can’t stand and walk for any length of time? I can’t believe it’s already June. This weather is perfect, it must be 75 out here. The sky’s so blue you could practically swim in it. I want to go swimming, THAT would get rid of some of this energy. Lord, why couldn’t You have given me some friends with a pool?

Problem #3: I’m driving in the car, even though I feel like an airhead. I have to pick up my Zyprexa refill at the pharmacy. Boy, am I glad I didn’t try cutting back on it yet. My friends were right—best to wait a little longer. Stuff’s cheap, too, only $8.44 for a month’s supply. Cheapest mental health money can buy. I can’t even imagine what I’d feel like if I weren’t sleeping. I still have trouble GOING to sleep but once I’m there I sleep like a rock. Speaking of sleep, I didn’t get a second cup of coffee this morning. Wonder why I’m so agitated, it’ s like I drank five cups. Tim (a Facebook friend of mine) thinks I need to cut down on caffeine. He may be right, but…..HEY!!! Don’t you cut in front of me, you POS!!!

Problem #4: At Safeway, shopping for a few groceries and feeling guilty about the kinds of food I’m putting in my cart. Wow, no wonder we feel shitty so much of the time, look at all this processed crap. Why, oh why can’t I love healthy foods, like dark-green leafies and tofu? On the other hand, almost nobody in my family lives past their 60s and the ones who do get dementia, so what would I be saving myself for if I gave up Oreos and ice cream? This line sure is moving slowly. I don’t care. I’m sure as hell not doing anything ELSE that’s constructive. I really need to revise my resume. But wait, the ice cream will melt if I go to the unemployment office. Guess I’ll wait till tomorrow.

And so it goes.