Like frigging clockwork, my mood goes from perfectly ok to “sewer” level around 4 p.m. I didn’t have a bad day. The kid wasn’t bad, just extra yappy. I met a few goals. There’s no reason for the crash, no outer cause or trigger. It’s just been this way for three years now. My prior docs had no problem splitting the anti depressant dosage into two doses a day. New doc says it won’t matter, level in my blood will remain the same so once a day it is.
I’m thinking, um, NO. Obviously, he has no clue what it’s like to start out a little lethargic, kick your ass into gear,everything going along swimmingly, and then after getting a taste of stability and non suckiness…SPLAT. No explanation or trigger. Just fucking splat. THREE bloody years of this shit, working out the proper way to time the meds for optimal results, and now because of this one doctor, I’m not even in control of that. Taking 60mg later in the day doesn’t make a difference. I just don’t respond as well to a single 60mg dose as opposed to two 30mg doses. But because he knows it all…&^$$()((*!!!!!!
I’m still pondering the splitting the capsule but having gotten so many pills stuck on my tongue and in my throat where the cringing bitterness lasted for days…I fear it. And I am gonna talk to him next time I see him, even if I have to play the “Aw, shucks, humor the crazy lady with the split dose as a placebo effect.”
It is such major suckage. I was up at 8 today. I was groggy but not feeling horrid. I figured the early morning thunderburst would have canceled yard sales and mowing plans. But rather than get all stressed out by making plans yet flaking out…I went out on the premise of needing a bag of sugar…And we hit seven yard sales. Didn’t find a bunch or even have a bunch to spend, but…I went out in the dish and interacted. And at the yard sales, I wasn’t even all that bothered by other people.
Traffic on the other hand…Icky. By the time we stopped for sugar, my nerves were fraying and I was starting to see everyone as some sort of threat (fight or flight response doesn’t give a fuck about logic). Just backing out of the busy lot nearly sent me into anxiety meltdown. Home it was. I managed an hour and forty five minutes out there before losing my shit. Yay. My kid made out like a bandit. I spent maybe forty cents on her. People were giving her stuff for free because she’s so cute. One lady even let her have a Lambie (from Doc McStuffins) that was marked four dollars and I didn’t have the cash so I told Spook no…And the woman gave it to her free. I should be so lucky if people would give me stuff for being cute. Oh, wait, I’m betting they did back when I was a cute kid. I can’t believe the only true memories I have of being age 5 was someone poisoning my dog with glass in his food and pissing my mom off by insisting the dog walk me to my first day of Kindergarten instead of her. Is it normal to have so little memory at that age? I mean, nowdays they’re saying kids remember from being months old. Is it the family Alzheimer’s gene making my childhood such a blank?
Meh. We had a wicked thunderstorm today. Lots of lightning. All I could think was, R is seeing dollar signs. Of course, he’s got so much work from last month’s lightning damage, he can’t get caught up. Raking in some money should give him a better attitude. He apparently is throwing some work the way of his friend who’s the computer hacker electronic genius. Paying him, mind you. Not me, though, never me. But whatever. The kid found a smartphone and rather than turning it in, he decided to play around on it and hack and tweak and modify…And the gps locator was on and they found him and now he’s in a bunch of shit. Whatever. I’ve always known I’m irrelevant for the most part even amongst those who claim to be my friends. Well, maybe not entirely relevant. R is less a “helper for the small things” and more “the guy who will pay two hundred bucks for car parts and fix my car himself for me.” I shouldn’t bitch. It’s just every time I point out a shiny aspect, suddenly words like “positive” come up and it makes me throw up a little, so I embrace my own bitchy and moan-iness a bit too much.
In a way, I’m like a superhero. Not that I have magical powers, I just always have to have a nemesis. Someone who I don’t necessarily dislike yet they drive me so bonkers and I am supposed to take it wordlessly while they complain incessantly about my irritating quirks. PLAY FAIR IN THE SANDBOX OR GET OUT. The old counselor told me I needed to change that aspect of my personality and mentality. As the kid whose toys were always taken away even though I played fair…Fuck it. Quid pro quo is the way to go. Had I adapted this view years ago I wouldn’t be such a resentful “give me a nemesis to rail against because they don’t play fair” type.
And contrary to what that sunshine spewing therapist said…I don’t think my quid pro quo mentality is a bad thing. If someone expects to call me at eleven o clock at night to whine about their issues, yet they get pissed because I sent them a text during the day at an inopportune moment…Uh huh, not cool. Or ya know, my hypocrite father who never calls before he shows up yet tells us never to show up without calling cos they have lives and may not be home. Um, hello? Assclown much? One of the first lessons I learned, as a kid, is that life isn’t at all fair. So any chance you get to take control and make it a little more balanced in your favor…why the hell not. Being a welcome mat doesn’t make you a good person.
I guess now that the storm has cleared up and the sun is trying to peek out, my mood is coming up a tiny bit. I still feel like someone put me through a blender, my entire body is aching and bruised. Thanks a lot, horrormones. Plus, I am feeling a bit raw in the nerve endings because as mentioned earlier, Spook has been good but man, she doesn’t pause for breath, she talks in run on sentences non stop, and it winds me just to hear it. And the “why, why, why” even after giving her answer after answer…I want to scream I DON’T KNOW, I AM A BRAINDEAD MORON WHO KNOWS NOTHING, STOP ASKING. Not mature but realistic.
Little on edge, as well, because I haven’t heard from my dad and his crew and it was after 5 last week when they crashed the door unannounced. That’s very unnerving for me, a little heads up, ffs. How can they expect a call first yet be so disrespectful (over the course of ten years when my anxiety metastasized to the point of needing a warning call) by not giving me the same consideration? Basic human courtesy, asshats. Plus, never knowing when they will appear usually means my supper plans are on hold because damn, every time I assume they won’t show…That;s when I’m in the middle of cooking or just sitting down to eat…And my assclown father expects me to drop everything to deal with him because his time is much more important and I can tend to my own stuff after he leaves.
I don’t think I ever stood a chance against being anything but a misanthrope, if you consider how utterly rude my own family is. Throw in how shitty the kids at school were then all the adults who shunned me for being bipolar…There was just no way I was gonna come out of that thinking people were awesome creatures. Truth is, a large number of them are monstrous. As evidenced by a repost I read earlier talking about the desperation of people to meet standards of beauty to avoid cyber bullying.
“Kids will be kids.”
That is such utter bullshit. Those kids become adults who are still bullies. And what’s worse is, they enjoy it. These are people who supposedly have a higher moral compass than me because they don’t swear or drink or smoke and they go to church and have jobs and large networks of friends and walk on water and turn their own urine into wine…But they actually feel good about themselves for putting others down, as if it’s their right to pass judgment.
I’ll keep all my sins, thankyouverymuch, rather than ever become one of those monstrosities. When “love thy neighbor” is bastardized into “freely torment anyone who doesn’t fit your personal standard of beauty and normality“…Obviously, religion has failed a great many.
(Sidenote, and it’s not really conscious on my part, but I’ve noticed after any post involving my religious views, too much swearing, or being “negative”, I lose several followers. It almost makes me giggle. I mean, seriously. Drop me if I bore you or annoy you but if you’re not grown up enough to accept that not everyone shares your personal view…Make like a tree and leave. ) (On another side note, maybe I need to take my own advice and stop tirading about all the positive messages out there? Hmm…Nah. It ain’t personal to any single person. It’s just sickening to me. Honestly, I can’t stand mayo but I’m not calling you the devil because you like it. Just for the love of fuck, don’t put it in my food or I will spew your direction. Mayo is ick ick ick. Like optimism. ICK.)
Okay, this has to stop. I had a direction to go with this post and it wasn’t going to long and, damn it, if the incessant spawn yapping hasn’t gotten me all clusterfucked. I bet ahlf the words I wrote were what she was saying and not what I meant to write. Unfortunately, editing is for those who can’t write. I can’t be arsed.
Still pissed off about how I went from doing so well (even got that lawn mowed finally and showered again!) to this “is it bedtime yet” thing. And bitch of it is, night after night, it happens and by bedtime…I’m tapped out but my brain won’t shut up so it takes hours to get to slep and I can’t stay asleep.
Like being bipolar wasn’t enough explanation for my grumpiness, I think I just explained it even more.