Daily Archives: August 1, 2016
I feel so weak. My soul is being drained from my body. I haven’t been motivated to blog or read people’s. I’m so melancholy. I feel awful. I just want to die. I want it over. I’m so tired of fighting. I haven’t read anyone’s submissions for the contest. I’ll get to them soon. Sorry.… More A Dark Cloud Is Closing In
My parents came down to visit today. It has not gone well. I get along fine with my parents, but I understand them. My dad thinks my oldest daughter is too loud and opinionated, They both like my middle daughter, but she had things she had to do today and so could not sit around and talk. My youngest child spent her time entertaining my even younger niece, who came down with them. We met my husband for lunch, and my dad and my husband don’t get along well either. And my mom has a habit of picking away at things–the tea was too sweet at the restaurant, my kitchen walls were green instead of yellow, etc.
So it is been a bit of a difficult day. I have a class conference at 1:30 p.m., my oldest goes to work at 2 and my middle one goes to band practice at 3 p.m. So we were all busy this afternoon except my youngest, who went with my parents to one of the museums in town. Anyway.
School is winding down for me–I have one more paper to do by Friday and I have lined out what I plan to do with it–I just need to write it all out.
Let me see if I can get into my conference. Hope everyone has a great rest of the week.
So I fucked up again. Big shock. But the fact is, my swiss cheese brain (thank you, meds) does not retain information, especially dates and numbers. It does, however, cling to routine. So when the doctor’s office went and changed EVERYTHING abruptly due to staff problems…My brain just sort of got stuck in the routine loop where I assumed I had an appointment set up.
Nope. I called to check the date and was informed you failed to make another appointment and we can’t get you in until the tenth. Lovely. I pointedly told the girl, I have one pill left. Cold turkey from anti depressants, not cool. She put me on hold and came back with, “All I can do for you otherwise is a 3:20 tomorrow afternoon.” SOLD.
It just irks me that they went and changed everything, right down to scheduling your appointment on the way out, so I get mixed up and blamed like I did something wrong. I screwed up because their system is messed up. Just like my last appointment, I told the doc, I’ve lived in this town over 20 years but on my way there, one street was closed off for railroad work. That one little deviation caused me to get lost going to his office. I don’t mean lost as in I had no idea where I was, I mean, lost as in, the route I normally take was blocked and I couldn’t get my brain wrapped around a rerouting.
So if I can get lost in a town where I’ve lived 20 years due to my brain dysfunction…Not getting an appointment set up with their new system is not a far stretch. Now I feel like a moron.
I am so sick of hearing celebs with bipolar spew about “normal life” being possible. Sure. If you are bipolar one and can manage on a mood stabilizer alone…Life will probably be pretty good for you.
If you are bipolar 2, with a multitude of other diagnoses, the likelihood of life ever sorting out for long is slim.
Bottom line is, my brain does not receive correct information, nor does it process information correctly. The tiniest thing makes me come unhinged from a “2 plus 2” standpoint. But because I am fairly intelligent, my brain dysfunction is discounted. I don’t think the shrink even believes me, and I blame cognitive behavior therapy for that. We get brainwashed into thinking we can retrain our brains to do anything, tolerate anything, overcome anything…Therefore, someone like me with numeric dyslexia and an inability to orient to my surroundings when a deviation is introduced…Well, obviously I am just not trying hard enough to cognitively retrain my brain.
Thinking of it makes my brain turn to puree.
So I fucked up again and I feel stupid but what am I gonna do…I’ll go to my appointment and I will tell the doctor about not sleeping for more than an hour and a half consecutively. I will tell him how my anxiety is becoming borderline agoraphobia. How I think the anti depressant is helping but isn’t “there” yet.
Will he listen kindly and be empathetic like last time? Or will he be rushed and irked and make me feel shitty?
That lottery is almost as fun as the lithium nausea lottery.
Speaking of…Sad as this is…My kid is now trained to hand me the trash can when she sees me take my lithium and start getting woozy. How’s that for conversation for a seven year old. “My mom throws up sometimes because her medicine makes her sick. I have to give her the trash can.”
I don’t know how to shield her from the reality of my illness. The meds work, damn they work, but the lithium is just unpredictable and harsh.
Guess puking beats being in jail cos I went off on some manic tirade and beat someone’s head in with a tire iron.
They just gotta make everything fun illegal.
Bring on the zombies, I am sharpening my Z Whacker points.
Unless my brain misfires and I start attacking the non zombies. Damn swiss cheese brain.
Mood I had a wonderful week again. I could be wrong, but I think it’s been two months now that I’ve had no manic or depressive incidents. I had an appointment with my pdoc on Friday and he was excited that I’ve been doing so well. However, when I told him that there was a […]
Working in a health facility I so often witness how badly the people working there treat or rather approach people who have mental disorders. “Ignore that man. He’s a ‘psy’ patient. […]
Today we spent the afternoons at my mother in laws so that we could celebrate my nephews birthday. It was alright. Things felt different with my sis-in-law. I wonder if that will change once things are reintroduced or if I am just being hyper sensitive. I mean it could honestly be either.
It was a nice afternoon though sitting out by the lake and catching more pokemon. Can seriously do that just about anywhere.
Had some food and played cards with my little nephew. Got me out of the house anyhow.
Really, Morgue? Two posts in one day and neither say a damned thing?
I decided to shine a little light on my tiny successes, since I am such a drama llama at spotlighting every tiny failure.
Thursday I folded TEN baskets of laundry and put it all away. First time in months the sofa has not been buried under clean laundry.
Yesterday I baked cupcakes.
Today, in spite of my anxiety due to the noisy kids, I did dishes and fixed hamburger helper for supper.
I guess it’s these little things that tell me the Pristiq is doing something. Because for a very long time I couldn’t cook more than a meal a week and here I’ve been cooking nightly. Laundry caught up? Yeah, right…Yet it is. Me, bake? Never. Yet I did.
I am super frustrated that I still can’t enjoy music because it almost instantly sends me into panic meltdown. I am pissy that I have no desire to be around other people. (Normals get so bent when you turn down outings more than once.)
I WANT desperately to enjoy music again, to want to socialize, to have a clear enough mind to get back to my writing…
But I remain stuck in limbo, tortured for the most part, to the extent that the little victories seem irrelevant. Logically, I know they are very relevant. Depression brain and panic disorder…don’t give a damn.
Just to show I am still me with my “there’s optimism,it’s just ten thousand feet under the pessimism”…
Cute kitty pic. This is the only kitten Shade had that survived. It’s a battle keeping her in a pet carrier and forcing her to feed him. His name is Pudding. (From a scene on an episode of Supernatural, inside joke always makes me smile.)
And because while my sense of humor is on life support sometimes…this joke made me laugh out loud, no emoji, no typing. I laughed out loud and my kid asked me what was wrong.
A man escapes from a prison where he’s been locked up for 15 years. He breaks into a house to look for money and guns. Inside, he finds a young couple in bed. He orders the guy out of bed and ties him to a chair. While tying the home-owner’s wife to the bed, the convict gets on top of her, kisses her neck, then gets up and goes into the bathroom.
While he’s in there, the husband whispers over to his wife: ‘Listen, this guy is an escaped convict. Look at his clothes! He’s probably spent a lot of time in jail and hasn’t seen a woman in years. I saw how he kissed your neck. If he wants sex, don’t resist, don’t complain…do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is obviously very dangerous. If he gets angry, he’ll kill us both.. Be strong, honey. I love you!’
His wife responds: ‘He wasn’t kissing my neck – he was whispering in my ear. He told me that he’s gay, thinks you’re cute, and asked if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom.
‘Be strong. I love you, too!’