I had an appointment with my therapist, a very rewarding session After that I went to get a birthday gift for a friend. Went everywhere on foot, the fun part of city living. Then I was going to go get Samosas (the best) at Ramsi’s, except I saw a young man, blonde, badly sunburned, he asked me for some money, I had six 20’s and a one dollar bill. So I gave him the one dollar. Then as I was leaving, I said “Get some food with that.” To which he said he’d have to wait to collect some money to get food. So I took him to a chicken place and got him a large Chicken tenders meal. I told him to stay out of the sun and get a job. He said he’s been looking for jobs, unfortunately he’d just gotten out of jail, long story, and someone had stolen his backpack with his ID so he couldn’t apply for jobs. It cost (he told me) $16 to get a new ID and he didn’t have the money. So I gave him a $20 bill and told him to get his ID, made him promise haha. Then I walked to the nearby grocery store and got him a Louisville Cardinal baseball cap so his face wouldn’t get more sunburnt. He asked me how he looked and I told him: real gangsta! We both laughed at that. I again made him promise to get his iD and look for jobs, he assured me he would. He asked me for my phone number so he could prove to me that he’d gotten his ID… and I gave him my cell number. I hope he really does get his ID and goes and gets a job, he was simply too young to sit on benches asking people for money. I’m sending him tons of good wishes as I write this.
I hope he is a starfish who is happy that someone tried to throw him back in the ocean, and I really hope that even as little as I did, it will catapult him into a more functional and happy life.
I’m writing this with one basic goal in mind: balance. There is a lot of negative content on this site. People who don’t know much about psychology, or people that believe in a certain silly level of self-determinism, love to tell me that my negative content is fueling the disease. So while I am feeling […]
I am forcing myself to write this because…Well, I am in that depressive place where I find myself boring and useless and it seems futile to blog…I have to fight the urge to curl up into a ball. It pisses me off this is even an issue, 60mg Prozac should have me damn near manic. I see el shrinko Friday and I dread telling him another med failed to bring me out of my slump. As if it’s my personal failure. Cos I did have a cockweasel shrink once who kept me on Zoloft for months even when I went suicidal and he said “you just don’t want it to work.”
He’s the reason I quit shrinks and meds for almost a year.
Nothing monumental going on. Hotter than Hades last week, this week we’re getting a beautiful respite. I can sit comfortably without the humidity making my skin so moist they stick to the touch pad on this computer. Woo hoo, small victories.
I started this generic Adderall shit Friday. It aspires to be Focalin. As in, fairly useless. First it makes me sleepy, then when I come out of it, sure, my brain has slowed down but I still can’t organize a plan of attack to get functional. Focalin helped so much and frankly, it wasn’t much more in cost than this shit is. Ass trash insurance company.
Saturday I was nauseous for ten hours. I couldn’t say if it was the 94 degree heat or the lithium but I felt like serious shit. (Which was odd, cos I actually felt decent earlier and even invited my mom to hit some yard sales with me. The nausea just came out of nowhere.) Sooo…I did not go to R’s party. I sent him a b-day text, explained the situation (you know, the usual lie, must have been something I ate, cos people can’t bear to hear about your psych meds making you sick…) I hear I missed a hell of a bash. I was honestly relieved. Sitting in 94 degree heat with 40 0ther people really isn’t my thing.
Sunday was…well, frankly, I was hella productive. I don’t know where it came from but I was washing dishes and laundry and picking things up, even vacuumed a bit. Mopped the floor, cleaned cat boxes. I wish I could feel that level, that motivated, ALL the time. I’m not talking about feeling high. I am talking about feeling alive. Doing those small basic things everyone else does but minus the depressive inertia and haze.
My spawn returned from dad and stepmonster’s Saturday. She was home an hour before she was screaming at me and hitting. Because I said no ice cream. Sunday she was even worse, slapped me, then hit my arm, all the while screaming like a banshee. I don’t even remember why. I am sure I did the ultimate evil and said no to her wanting to feed the cats to a tree chipper or something. I grounded her from her friends all day Monday.
We had zero problems that day. Which proves socialization never produces good things.
Obviously, I am jaded and cynical and have always been a loaner so even if I weren’t panicked and depressive, I’d still find socialization a chore. It occurred to me (and I say this with zero pride) that the ONLY time I enjoy being around other people in a social setting is…after a couple of drinks. Then I become interesting and funny and people like me. Sad fucking statement on people. Of course, all my prior love interests/etc loved me when I was manic and sped toward the hills when the flip side hit. Not a shocker.
“Be yourself and people will like you.” Yeah, Mom, thanks for feeding me that bullshit lie. But it’s okay cos I have always been myself and quite frankly…I find the people who take me as I am are the ones I want to know. Everyone else can fuck off.
Today I got a 7 am wake up call (was awake til almost 3). R needed a ride to the shop as his scooter wouldn’t run. I had offered the night before (cos he’s helped me enough when my shit breaks down) so out the door we went. Spook was cold, she was still tired, she was literally channeling satan and screaming. Awesome. We took him to work, came home. She went back to sleep. I wanted to but had to take half a xanax to do it.
Not even 11 a.m. and the devil girls came knocking. Whatever. I took my meds. Battled my lithium nausea. Then R texted again to remind me I didn’t give him his change back last night and it was his lunch money. Blah, another trip into the dish. Crazy glutton for punishment I am…I actually let the devil girls come along. OMG, I don’t know how there aren’t more car wrecks cause by incessant child chatter and shrieking laughter. Made me a nervous wreck.
I stopped by the library cos they ordered Hemlock Grove for me. I thought the kids could just sit and look at books downstairs while I went up to circulation. Instead they start running around playing hide and seek and screeching (in all fairness, that life size statue of Ronald McDonald would make me scream too, clowns are eeeeeevil.) All these other children were there for reading hour and various other activities, younger than these 3, and they were calm and quiet. I got stuck with banshees. Never again.
Since then…Just watching Wayward Pines. I tried to get into it last year but it wasn’t happening. Now I am sucked in but I find it far creepier than any horror movie. Unsettling. Train wreck I can’t look away from.
We were under a 2 day boil order due to some malfunction with the public water tank. I didn’t find this out until after I’d had 4 glasses of water yesterday (definitely explains why I got sick later in the day). It’s lifted now but damn, even McDonald’s was closed down. Makes you realize how important water is.
I am pondering making a meat loaf. I am looking forward to her going to church tonight, I treasure that hour. Tomorrow night she is staying with my mother, that way I don’t have to get a sitter Friday while I see el shrinko. I’ll pick her up after my appt.
I want my zest for life back. I am trying so damned hard and my brain just won’t cooperate. It just can’t seem to stomach life anymore. The inertia…Some days, self berating and repeating, “get off your ass and just do it” works. Most days…it does not. Just suspended animation here. I go through the motions, enjoy very little. I’ve wondered if maybe the donor was right and I’m just incapable of being happy.
I don’t buy that.
In other news…R got an interview today at the (superstorenamegoeshere) which is where donor douche works. Don’t know if he got hired but he said they want him to work weekends and as that’s the only time Mrs R is home…I’m not thinking it’s gonna go well.
Okay. I’m glad I got it all out of my brain before it started leaking out of my ears. Anyone who survived reading this to the end…I will spare you a Z-whacking even if you go full zombie.
Here’s a video I found and normally Collegehumor is hilarious, but this…is very realistic. Except in my case it isn’t just social anxiety, it’s constant anxiety.
Originally posted on Dream Big, Dream Often: ? As most of you know I live each day of my life with multiple sclerosis. My type of MS is secondary progressive which means that I have symptoms present daily with no…
It seems that I have had a string of not-so-great days. It is odd, because my stress should actually be decreasing, instead of skyrocketing. I now have hot water, a working septic, and central air conditioning…which I hadn’t had for about a month. Those little “daily tasks” which were made so difficult by lack of those things, have been made much easier, but my mood has begun to plummet into darkish places, and I’m running in place, trying to stop that downward trend.
In other news that should be reducing my stress level, QoB has decided to stay put right where she’s at, no moving hours away, and one would think THAT would make me feel better. It doesn’t. To further decrease my stress level, we don’t have to move into a rental, but she is finding a house that we can afford to buy and I have great credit, such to the point that I can get a mortgage in my name. Her goal is for us to save money from the point we are paying out right now, in the new place, and still own. So, it sounds perfect, does it not? It sounds like all of my really big, fat, ugly stress problems should be gone, doesn’t it?
I know. Shit. That’s just not the case. If anything, my anxiety is more pronounced, and I hate to say this, but my mood is going downhill. Towards depressed, with increasing agitation and annoyance and irritation and flustery-blustery-yuck. I don’t want to see anyone, talk to anyone, deal with anyone. I am able to handle LarBear and the dogs, and that’s about it, other than brief interludes here and there.
I have no desire to do anything for the 4th of July, and if I were going to be frank about it, I’d say that, really, actually, I can’t stand the 4th of July. Everyone drinking, small fires and explosions everywhere, I hate being outside in the dark, heck, I don’t like being away from home when it is dark outside. I am afraid of the dark, at 34 years old. The whole holiday seems entirely too much about alcohol and blowing things up and eating picnic food. No, thanks. I am officially done pretending that I like anything about the 4th of July celebrations. I don’t even want a freaking sparkler or those poppers that you throw on the ground.
In trying to pinpoint where this increase in depressive symptoms, anxiety, and irritability comes from, I have made little progress. I talked about it with my therapist today, and we think it could just be a cute little bipolar cycle. Ya know, bipolar, making it’s rounds, duck-duck-duck-GOOSE! The fact that changes are ahead doesn’t help, but at least they are more manageable changes than what they were going to be. I mean, yes, LB and I will be moving, but the circumstances are better. Other than that, much else stays the same.
So, like I said at the beginning, a few bad days does not make a bad life, and a few bad days doesn’t even make a bad episode. I’m a few days away from this being an actual episode, and maybe I can calm it with enough DBT and Klonopin and ice cream, that it keeps from becoming an actual episode. I certainly hope so. I think, what is most disappointing to me, is that I almost had myself convinced that I had this disease whupped, as in, permanently, as in recovery = permanence.
I will keep choosing, every minute if necessary, to not have this rule my life:
Awhile back I asked for suggestions for humor blogs, but didn’t get much of a response. I’m hoping to get better feedback this time around because I’m open to blogs that have a broader appeal. What Types of Blogs am I Looking For? What kind am I looking for? Mental health, bipolar specific, humor, funny, […]
Originally posted on Our Lived Experience: ECT 4 – while I was in the gurney waiting to be wheeled to theatre, a patient slapped my face (not very hard). I said to a nurse, “I don’t know why she did that.” The nurse said, “even she doesn’t know why.” In theatre, I overheard Shrink Two…
I finally made it to my shrink appt, woot! She is taking me completely off the wellbutrin and then we are also going to remove the Pristiq after. So another 6 weeks before that one goes.
That’s all I managed to accomplish, though she gave me another .5 mgs of xanax to take a day. 3 over the course of the day as opposed to the two I have in the morning the the .5 I have in the afternoon. We are trying to find a rhythm.
Overall it’s been a pretty good day. Oh I also ate breakfast at the restaurant. So big day for my social anxiety fears.