Daily Archives: October 16, 2015

Finally Finished

I finished all my commenting on the discussions on my upcoming class and got in my opinions on the books we had to read for it.  All twelve of them along with the weekly discussion on my   New Media class. Next week I get to talk to the authors of these books and see exactly what they had in mind.  So that will be fun.

I’ve got my clothes ready and only need to pack my necessities on Sunday.  So I feel prepared for the trip.  I have a street address for the place I’m going to so I can enter it into the Magellan GPS I have so that will be a big help. Everything seems to be lining up well for the trip so I am glad of that.

I’m still feeling pretty good with this new medina, Geodon. That’s what counts so I am feeling good about going on the trip and it being smooth sailing.

My oldest called this afternoon with a list of things she wants me to bring up there.  Silly girl. But I’ll pack it all and try to get it to her Sunday night.   I can’t find the pair of shoes she wants; she says she can’t wear the heels I found and needs the others.  She left her room in a mess so it’s hard to find anything.  So I will look for them, but not very hard.

Hope everyone has a good weekend.


Finally Finished

I finished all my commenting on the discussions on my upcoming class and got in my opinions on the books we had to read for it.  All twelve of them along with the weekly discussion on my   New Media class. Next week I get to talk to the authors of these books and see exactly what they had in mind.  So that will be fun.

I’ve got my clothes ready and only need to pack my necessities on Sunday.  So I feel prepared for the trip.  I have a street address for the place I’m going to so I can enter it into the Magellan GPS I have so that will be a big help. Everything seems to be lining up well for the trip so I am glad of that.

I’m still feeling pretty good with this new medina, Geodon. That’s what counts so I am feeling good about going on the trip and it being smooth sailing.

My oldest called this afternoon with a list of things she wants me to bring up there.  Silly girl. But I’ll pack it all and try to get it to her Sunday night.   I can’t find the pair of shoes she wants; she says she can’t wear the heels I found and needs the others.  She left her room in a mess so it’s hard to find anything.  So I will look for them, but not very hard.

Hope everyone has a good weekend.


Hanging On For Dear Life

As I’ve been saying, my overall mood is very stable (or so I thought before my visit with Dr. Awesomesauce the other day), but lately I’ve been waking up in the morning in freak-out mode. I don’t like to talk about it because I have this magical thinking that if I don’t, it will go away and things will be normal again; but this has proven not to be the case.

What’s bothering me? For one thing, Will is not doing well, and I am batshit with the fear of losing him. He is on a new medication that has made him a champion at throwing up, and he has almost as many bad days as good ones now. He is obviously getting tired and I try not to see the changes in him, but it’s hard to remain positive when my clinical knowledge speaks the truth of his decline. I think he’s hanging on for the trip in December, but beyond that…well, I just don’t know.

We’re also having trouble locating his birth certificate so we can get him a passport. We’ve been chasing our tails for months already between the Colorado and California bureaus of vital statistics, because his birth name and his adoptive name are different and not much is known about his original parents. Not only that, all of the interested parties are long dead and can’t help us straighten it all out. We can’t even be sure there are adoption records because his mother gave him to her sister to raise when he was a year old. Now with time running out, we are still without a birth certificate and if we can’t get SOMETHING to prove he was born in the U.S. he won’t be able to get back into the country.

On top of that, my oldest daughter Mandy and her family are moving to Vermont, chasing the snow as it were. Mike is a snowboard instructor and hasn’t been able to make a living the past two winters because there’s been so little snow in our mountains, so now they’re packing up to move almost all the way across the country. It’s not unlike Will and me when we were their age, moving to a place a thousand miles away from everything and everyone we knew to make a fresh start. But I guess I’m being selfish, because as much as I know they have to do this, I sort of hope they hate it there and come back home.

Then, there’s the matter of Dr. A, whose clinic hours are going to be limited to Mondays and Fridays at 11 AM. He’s all but out of there, and he’s planning on leaving—period—next July when the residents he supervises at the hospital graduate. This, of course, makes me heartsick because I can’t imagine having to tell all my troubles to another psychiatrist, assuming I can find one who takes my insurance. He’s keeping only a handful of patients and there’s going to be some jockeying for those few available sessions, but I’m already booked for December after the cruise so I don’t have to worry about that for the time being.

Strangely enough, we have a difference of opinion regarding my mental state. I consider myself to be fully stable, but he says I’m only in partial remission. The anxiety has nothing to do with my bipolar, it’s due to all the crazy stuff going on in my life. What does it take to be in full remission, I wonder? And what does it look like? We didn’t even talk about changing any meds…I’d hoped I could go down a little more on the Geodon and eventually get down to one anti-psychotic, but that’s not going to happen ANYTIME soon. So be it…even if this combination of drugs keeps me only somewhat stable, it’s worth it.

That’s how things are going right now in mi vida loca. But I’m still thankful to be where I am now instead of where I was a year ago; at least I have the ability to hang on, even with the anxiety and fear and waking up in the morning in a cold sweat.

And so it goes.


Blah-tulism poisoning

Much is made out of the extremes of bipolar. Missing from that spotlight are the “meh” days, the days where you don’t feel much of anything. You’re here, you’re out of bed, you’re shambling along zombie style…

I’m calling it blah-tulism poisoning because everything reeks of BLAH.

So far this week I have allowed housework to snowball even trying to tackle bits and pieces here and there. Keeping up with a cat that leaks poop with every step is a bitch and they don’t make fricking cat diapers (if they do, I can’t find or afford them.) My kid begs me daily not to put him outside, my sister keeps promising she’ll take him to the vent since she gave us a sickly cat…Meanwhile, I’m down with blah-tulism and struggling with the normal banalities of housework plus cleaning up after this cat. I feel for him, I really do. It’s just overwhelming. Spook wants to have another fundraiser for Orchid and with the holidays coming and me not doing social media…I’m not sure anyone would even take notice, let alone donate. Maybe I’ll put up a page just to make her feel better, IDK. After six weeks I figured my sister would have done kept her word about the vet but obviously payments on a 4K tv for her gamer husband is far more important. Meanwhile if I cut back any further on my “luxuries” Spook and I will be using corncobs for toilet paper. (No idea if that is actually a thing, just know my father has always joked about it, to the point of one year giving me corn cobs as an xmas gift. WTF.)

I spent two days of my life working on a Netbook. R’s idea of “throwing me a bone” to earn money. Well, let’s see…It is in French, it’s windows 8, and I speak neither. So after all those hours of my life, everything being pristine, and the problem still existing, I was ready to bang my head against a wall. I need gas in the car, smokes to avoid clawing off my own skin, paper towels to keep cleaning up after Orchid…And all my time wasted for no profit because I couldn’t figure it out. Except I did. Someone had gotten inside of it before bringing it to his shop and the wifi adapter card itself was damaged. Nothing to do but use an external. Goddamn it. That man just sets me up to fail, I swear. One thing about it- it secured my absolute hatred of Windows 8 for life. That’s not easier, it’s convoluted and a  pain in the ass.

So he told me to bring it back today, give the french haitian client a call, explain it needs an external wifi, which I happened to have one, they can have it for thirty bucks or let us keep the computer. Problem is, this man speaks french and uh, I don’t. So without the Limitless pill to teach me that region of french in the next hour or so…It’s gonna be like trying to explain table manners to a squid. Grrrr. It’s not racist to be frustrated when you can’t communicate due to language barriers. Personally, I would not go to someone else’s country and expect them to learn my language to accommodate me, so how can others come to the states and demand it of us? Hell, maybe I am a racist, I dunno. The political correctness thing has become one of those things that needs to be killed with fire. It protects pretty much every ethnicity and quirky personality and disability except for those who have weight issues or mental illness. Kill.It.With.Fire.

Another downer was, my kid brought home the ADHD paperwork the teacher filled out…And while she does seem to have focus related issues, I think she falls within the normal range too much for them to deem it a problem. Add to it…she tells the school she is lonely, sad, and feels unloved and unwanted. Which I have relayed to every person in our lives and they agree she’s doing it to either manipulate, other kids make her feel bad, or…that chemical imbalance genetic link. Sighhh. I was so hoping it would just be attention deficit. I don’t want my kid to suffer this blah-tulism poisoning. Though having seen a couple of shows in the last week in which bipolar people were discouraged from having kids to avoid “passing it on”…Fuck you. By the time we’re all subjected to full DNA mapping, no one will be considered fit to procreate due to some genetic anomaly that could be passed on.

She is having a sleepover with my mom tonight. That will give me a break. Provided Mrs R doesn’t want me to come visit. I always feel like I can’t decline (especially after declining once already this week.) But ya know, single mom and all, alone time is rare and precious and it’s not personal. Maybe they have big family plans this weekend, IDK. Of course, what do I have to look forward to for my alone time except all this fucking housework or avoiding all the housework and feeling shitty for it yet being crippled by blah-tulism.

My ever epic father felt compelled to inform me this week that The Donor has a new gf. Guess him and the one he left me for didn’t work out long term. His new one has a kid older than Spook and he takes them out for dinner and stuff. Yay. Cos my deadbeat dad rage issues aren’t inflated enough, tell me more about what a waste of oxygen my kid’s sperm donor is. THEN my idiot dad asks where I am on getting those legal courthouse documents so I can submit the support papers. Hmm, I need about fifty bucks worth of papers, so…You wanna pay for it, go for it, otherwise, get off my dick. Knowing the donor, no sooner than it all goes through, he’ll quit his job or leave the state.

I don’t wanna go be around R. He didn’t even apologize for being so rude to me. He bitched the other day that I never answered his calls and he’d called several times..My phone rang once. Yet I’ve sent him multiple texts and he never answers…Accept the things I cannot change, blah blah blah, but it’s given me a sense of entitlement to be who I truly am. A moody mean spirited sarcastic bitch. Let’s see how long I am tolerated and accepted for who I am.

Blah-tulism.

Guess it could always be worse. I could be staying at Hotel Cortez from American Horror Story. They don’t have wifi.

I shrieked in horror before there was a single murder.


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