Yes. Whensday, as in WHEN on what day is anything going to truly change?
While bipolar is a fluid disorder, always changing in minute ways, the long depressions have this way of making you feel stuck, hopeless, trapped. And I’m not even talking a crippling bedridden depression. Just occupying the same “there is no hope, I am a robot” mindspace for so long makes you wonder WHEN IS THIS GOING TO CHANGE.
Quite simply…it’s not going to change. Because even when it does change and I flip to manic or stable, my baseline for six months of the year is clinical depression. Is it any wonder 30 plus years of this same cycle have landed me at a point where hope seems impossible?
Yet I shamble on like a zombie, always searching for the brains to sustain me even when obviously the world has ended and there are no brains left to eat so I am just biding time til I die.
How’s that for a cheerful note?
Actually, I’ve not been bad the last few days. Not bouncing off walls. Not curled up in bed. Just functioning as needed. I found a new (Canadian) show called Motive to binge on and am already getting nervous as I go through season three. The show hole is coming and I really like this show, damn it. Since my writing isn’t working, I gotta have fiction soup in some form.
I made an EFFORT to write the other night and churned out four pages (which is more like two cos you’re supposed to do 1.5 line spacing so even what I do accomplish is lessened). Four pages from a story I’ve been writing for 7 years now. Brain is too jumbled to keep continuity or even make a decision. I want to revamp it. I don’t know how to or where to start without completely transforming the original idea. And that’s the depressive state talking, cos I’ve been committed for 7 years to the storyline as it is. I think my brain wants to work in some sadness and misery for the characters cos I have a surplus. You get no joy because I don’t remember what that is, damndamndamn.
So yeah, four pages of regurgitated schlock. And I haven’t even gone back to proof it because I am certain it is total shit.
Currently not on speaking terms with dad and stepmonster. For whatever idiotic reason stepmonster told Spook not to mention to me that my sister was at their house (getting paid to clean even though she has three sources of income) and Spook blurted then woke up four times that night, sobbing and freaking out that stepgrandma wasn’t gonna love her anymore because she’d told me what she wasn’t supposed to.
And I already knew cos I called for my sister that day and was told she was cleaning house for dad and them, so I failed to see the big deal.I did find my kid being so upset a big deal so I called to confront stepmonster.
And the bitch hung up on me. Not one word, just click. And I used my most “my kid said you have a pet dragon in your bathtub, how silly is that” non threatening voice.
Real fucking mature for a 40 year old who considers herself so much better than me.
Haven’t heard a word from her or dad since though I talked to my mom last night and apparently, dad told my sister I called to bitch and yell at them for paying her to clean the house.
What the fuck.
It was not my intention to start a war at the holidays but I was within my rights to call the woman on making my child do something that upset her so much. Maybe she hung up before she even heard more than two words because I made it clear, laughing voice and all, I already knew my sis had cleaned the house so why upset my kid so much and make her think you’re not gonna love her anymore…
I fucking hate these people. Family, strangers, serial killers, Bieber fans, I just fucking hate it all.
So I am the bad guy because I spoke up on my kid’s behalf and am being accused of ruining the holidays and “yelling” when I absolutely did not yell. I even waited several hours to call before so I would be calm and not overreactive. But hey, screw that, why own your own fuck up in involving a six year old in keeping secrets that stress her out when you can just claim to everyone the hostile mental girl yelled at you due to sibling rivalry issues. I mean, it was just stepmonster and me on that line, her word trumps mine every time. I’m crazy, after all. (And the weird part was, my gut told me I should record the call “just in case” cos stepmonster’s done this one other time and I convinced myself I was being ridiculous and paranoid, there’s not reason two women in their forties can’t have a calm intelligent discussion.) It was about my kid, ffs. Not my sister, I don’t know why they always play us against each other.
This scenario is more played out than reality tv.
Stupider even is, I’ve not asked them for a damned thing, cos I’ve got Spook’s stuff bought, we have food, bills are paid…I’d have no reason to be hostile about them letting my sister clean their house for money. She cleans better, whatever. It’s such a stupid fucking thing to have started all this. Which I am sure some counselor would point out yes, exactly, so why did you open the can of worms over something stupid.
Maybe because I know what it’s like to be a little kid and have an adult put you in the middle of keeping their secrets. Like my mom always having me hide the bills from my dad so he wouldn’t see their debt or overdrawn statements. Then he’d find them and yell at me for not telling him, when mom was yelling at me to make sure he didn’t find out. Oh, no no no, motherfuckers. You will NOT do to my child what was done to me. Nope. I don’t care if they ever speak to me again. For once, my mom actually sided with me, even while making it clear she wasn’t siding so much with me, but with Spook cos it was really fucking immature for stepmonster to hang up on me rather than confront the issue and explain herself.
I am so disgusted with dad and stepmonster right now…Maybe the old me would have gotten insecure and wondered if I went “bipolar nasty” and should apologize or whatever…This incarnation of me…Uh huh. I used a lighthearted tone, careful wording…It would have set that bitch off no matter how I’d have said it cos she can’t handle being critiqued, only dishing it out. So no this time, I’m not backing down to keep peace. Involving my child that way was plain wrong and those rednecks can go to hell. My mental health is better the less they are in my orbit, anyway.
This was proven positive when they brought my kid home Sunday night and my dad started in on me about getting that damned car out of my mom’s name and how am I gonna get insurance and then telling me my kid needs to go their armpit area school cos this one doesn’t credit her with being so smart and she loves my brother and she didn’t want to come back and she needs a yard to play in and…I’d had such a nice relaxing day, felt good about myself, calm…And then five mins in their presence and I wanted to spit barbwire imploding bullets into their skulls.
Guess even if the bipolar behaves and the anxiety is manageable, the fates dictate there must always be some thorn in my paw.
I think, to an extent, I have figured out a major issue with my meds. I was taking most of them at once and apparently, mixing 120 Cymbalta with 10m Focalin…equals mega anxiety. That was not my goal. I just lose track of everything so easily and if I take them at different times I forget one or the other so my levels are never right…It’s become very stressful. I think it’s time to talk to the doc about a more simplified med regime. I can’t be all wired with anxiety and paranoia and if the meds are causing it…Let’s fix it. Taking them separately has been helpful the last couple of days but I cannot see myself taking ten different doses at ten different times every single day when it’s all I can do to remember to brush my kid’s hair every morning. I need more calm, more stable.
Especially with my going to court next month for child support, I have got to at least give some semblance of being calm and competent and not bursting into tears or anger which no doubt the donor will try to engineer. (We are talking about a man who, after I told him my biggest fear was getting Alzheimer’s like my grandma, would hide things from me and say he had no idea where they were…then he’d tell me and laugh about it, like it was funny and I was nuts to get upset…Yeah, he’s that fucking evil.)
Sorry this post is all over the place, might have taken the Cymbalta too soon after the Focalin and gotten a hypo brain rush. Just..grrr.
I was okay for a couple of days. I may even be okay today since I get to stay home and not have too much dish exposure. One good thing did come out of this week, though. R and I had some harsh words the other night. And he started to stomp out and I told him, you wanted me to be honest. And so there was nastiness then there was…truce. For however long it lasts. But yeah, he stayed with his wife for 14 years, knowing she hit the kids, but to this day he carries on about how she abused them. Well, if he’d left she couldn’t have, so yeah, he’s to blame, as well. I stand by that belief cos my grandmother let my grandpa beat my dad senseless as a child when it was her job to protect him. She put a spouse first and I find it despicable. Period. (This all stemmed from him wanting to call the ex wife and scream at her cos she insulted one of the girls’ religious views and I told him the girls would not want him to do that…And as it happened, he talked to them and all three, plus Mrs. R agreed with me…Let it alone. You can’t reason with evil.)
But hey…truce is a truce, even if it’s only for a few days. I can roll with that. “Agree to disagree, but I understand your view” is a wonderful way to bury hatchets. Too bad most of humanity (see stepmonster) are too immature to view it that way.
I should be doing housework. I haven’t even put a tree up for my kid. (Ha, and I am wearing my Grinch shirt today.) But I ran, ran, ran in the dish yesterday so today is my recovery day.
Final note…If you recall the post where I mentioned speaking to a neighbor cos he had that Siamese cat following him…Well….
I fed it. It came inside. Now it won’t leave. He is fine with it. So meet our newest family member.
This is Smeagol.
(She looks kinda Golem-y with the big blue eyes and scrawny body, ya know.)