Daily Archives: January 6, 2018

Homelessness Impending?

It was shaping up to be just another lackluster cold Saturday…then I got my mail.

Slumlord sold the entire trailer park to a management company. Supposedly the rules remain the same and he still manages but now it has become iffy. The lease we had was with HIM. Now at any time they can change whatever rules (no pets, etc) and we have zero recourse but to move. They can decide we have to move and give us a five day eviction notice even though rent is paid for 3 more weeks. (Yeah, it happens,I have been there, rent paid, nowhere to go, five days’ notice.)

For three years my doom and gloom father kept telling me, your landlord has a gambling problem, he’s in debt, you’re gonna end up homeless.

For three years, every few months, I’d be flogged with this, by my dad, and confront the landlord who’d laugh me off and say it was ludicrous that he’d be selling the place.

Just 3 months ago I asked him flat out and he once again laughed and denied it.

I guess during the summer when every resident got a notice from city municipals about the entire trailer park water bills being in 3 month arrears and in danger of being shut off…I should have gotten the hint.

But stupid idget that I am, I guess I stuck my head in the sand and wrongly chose to believe what I was being told by someone who has the morality of an alley cat and even less scruples.

This is not good, at all. Worse, I started to panic and talk to myself when reading the notice and my kid overhead me so now I have transferred, inadvertently, my anxiety about our living situation, onto her.WTF is wrong with me? She’s 8? I should have been able to keep my mouth shut and my demeanor stalwart. Instead…panic happened and now, in addition to me being freaked out…she is, too.

I suck.

But then, I was operating on the whole therapy driven ‘you gotta trust people or you are a paranoid psych case” propoganda. Turns out, I apparently had every reason to doubt and mistrust this landlord.

May have taken 30 years but he finally managed to bankrupt himself, or at least lose enough money on the gambling boats, for it to come to this.

Now my kid is worried what will happen to our cats, will we have to live in a shelter…and before this last week, I would have said, we can always live in grandma’s basement (long as we pay even though most of the people who have stayed there aren’t family and never paid a cent cos hey, my family are assholes)…

But my sister’s brother in law committed suicide in their basement New Year’s Day. They just got the blood cleaned up (guess hanging yourself is messier than fiction portrays.)

I can’t live in a sucide basement. I’m a damned ghoul and even I can’t do that. My sister, way harder emotionally than I am, has already vowed to never set foot down there again after all this…so that would leave me and my daughter to a living room with a single couch, hard floors, and a lack of heat. Worse than we have now. Because they have 5 bedrooms and all of them are filled. My dad lives 8 miles out of town in Bumfuck, with no extra space and even when R and I were speaking…he made it very clear Spook and I were unwelcome.

So am I putting the horse ahead of the cart with my panic disorder or am I just consciously exploring options should this new management company decide to weed us all out? Maybe us, in particular, for too many cats and bug problems, or maybe all of us cos they want to create a more upper crusty place? Am I overreacting, underreacting, being a moron?

The anxiety makes it am impossible thing to discern.

The fact that I recognize this, as well as use words like ‘discern’ tells me that whatever my psych problems…my intelligence is NOT in question.

Unfortunately lots of intelligent well spoken people, even without mental disorders, end up homeless in spite of good intentions and best efforts…

So. Where does that leave my child, me and our furfamily?

I guess we won’t have a clue until the next time I check the mailbox and get a kick to the head.

If my psychiatrist tells me I am being ridiculous, I swear I am going to sue him. I think this is the ideal circumstance for anyone to start feeling a bit panicked.

What sane person with no excess income would find the prospect of being homeless during February not anxiety provoking?

And face it-the new management company actually robs me of the loose prior security I had to fall back on, from a legal standpoint so…I am basically naked in front of the classroom here. If I wasn’t having minor spazouts before getting my mail, I am having major ones now.

And I think it’s justified. I chose to take someone’s word and now…

They have proven my choice to be ignorant.


Penny Positive #45

From An Optimist’s Calendar

Been a while..

No news, as they say, is good news. And in this case, that’s correct.

I’ve been pretty stable all through the Christmas season. Minimal suicidal ideation, a little anxiety, some [bipolar] dissociation, and the usual (relatively) low-level OCD.

That’s how unpredictable mental illness is; a renowned ‘stressful’ time can have little effect, whereas a ‘manageable’ time can see symptoms escalate wildly.

The meds are working, it must be said. Talking therapy would be useful, but that’s not going to happen.

I’ve even been tempted to begin writing again (a 4th P.I. Wall crime novel) but I’m not painting; there has been some collage work and poem-writing however.

Work can be very stressful, especially with us waiting on ESTYN to re-inspect us.

I continue to become physically less fit, and the meds are still making me put on weight. Swings and roundabouts, I guess.


A Hard Day

I hate it that I feel like my pills are making a difference when today I feel like my world is collapsing. No reason for it but I sure feel like it’s been lasting forever. I hate that one day can drag me down so much. I did manage to cook breakfast and I am hoping like hell to have a shower today but I just feel like curling up and crying.  There is only one problem, I haven’t been able to cry over anything in a couple of years it feel like. I could be slightly off, but I don’t know. A good cry would sure make me feel better I’m sure. Time to watch something that usually makes me cry. Maybe some animated Beauty and the Beast or maybe Iron Giant. I don’t know.. Maybe I should just run into the wall a bunch of times.

I hate the depression so much it just sucks the life out of me. If it wasn’t for my promise to Dani I don’t think that I would be even posting my blog.



Trust The Process

I am sitting in front of my therapy light, looking out the window at the somewhat gloomy day and wondering how I’m going to get through this winter, this jobless spell, this life in general.  This may be the depression talking, but I seem to have the same struggles over & over.  Maybe that’s the human condition.  Dammit I would like to rise above certain things for once and for all.  Maybe that’s just not possible with Bipolar Disorder.  Maybe I have to be patient with myself and not judge my struggles.

I called this post “Trust The Process” because I know there are things I need to do when I am depressed.  Sitting in front of this therapy light is one of them.  Getting exercise is another.  Making connections with people who care about me is essential, no matter how bad I want to isolate myself.  Making appointments with my doctor and my therapist are an absolute requirement.  Staying off drugs (pot) and alcohol is essential.  This is the process.  I don’t have to love it.  I just have to do it.

Now that I’ve written it down for all to see, I’m accountable to more than just me.  I’m accountable to you.  Expect to see more posts from me with reports of positive action.

Please share with me your thoughts, coping skills, and news of your life.  Thank you for being a part of my life!!!  Peaches!

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar and Seasonal Affective Disorder, Bipolar Coping, Bipolar Depressed, Bipolar Disorder, Mental Illness, Psychology, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Blogging, Depression, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader, SAD

Depression: When Functionality Feels Like You’ve Won The Lottery

Yesterday I was vegetative and accomplished little. After 2 weeks of my kid’s constant neediness and demands that I be her entertainment director…I needed to be selfish and zone out and just recharge.

Today, I was iffy, because I went to wash my laundry, and shocker…the washer is failing same as the dryer. I can use it, but it will only rinse and spin 5 or 6 items of clothing at the same time which takes longer and more water (thank god the landlord pays the water bill) but it also means more work for me, and more added to the power bill. I was feeling so weak and defeated, I didn’t think I’d accomplish a thing.

To my surprise, I finally got the car warmed up, the windshields cleaned, and set out into the dish. I returned my kid’s library books, spent 45 minutes at the laundromat drying 2 loads of laundry and the heavy sweatshires were still damp even after $2.oo worth of quarters…But the place wasn’t packed so my anxiety was lesser. Kenny said something a few weeks ago about using a different place further away cos it ‘would be cleaner’ but this midtown place…okay, not spotless, the walls a little shabby, no changemaker (gotta use the liquor store next door), no attendant…I looked down and saw the bent and rusting heat grate yet the dryers were all digital and new-ish…so I felt at home and less concerned about the floors being a little messy from people tracking in snow and mud. No wifi, boo hoo. I went old school and read a Patricia Cornwell novel til my stuff was dry.

Then I ran a couple more errands, including finally braving Aldi for groceries, then I went home…and it wasn’t even 11:30 a.m. I vacuumed, swept, did dishes, and even managed the first shower in 4 days. (WTF kind of psych nurse doc thingie doesn’t find days without showering a big symptom of depression???) I felt like I had accomplished a lot, and it felt good. Yeah, doing what others consider basic…it’s like winning the lottery for me. It’s rare. I need more zone out vegetative days than I have functional days so the good days….I celebrate. But if vegetating every so often helps me recharge and regain strength….I’d call it necessary and smart.

As for last night’s tirade against the melatonin failing to put me to sleep for 3 hours and the racing thoughts…It was a bitch. I tried to lay down at 9 p.m to give the melatonin time to kick in and let myself work out my racing thoughts. It did not go well.It was maddening and frustrating and has become so common place that…well, if I consider it normal, I guess that makes me a freak. Less than normal…it’s just become a facet of my life.

For today…even though my demanding child did wear me down (she got 3 A pluses on her report card, tell me that child isn’t smart and thriving even if she’s in a low income single parent income!!!!) She had a mega tantrum before school so I told her the consequence was me not playing together with her dollhouse. This is the only thing I know that actually seems to ‘discipline’ her. Yet for hours she kept trying to bargain and say she’d do anything and I stuck to my guns. We had pizza, we watched 3 sitcoms together, we had snuggle buggle time and chatted…I am not keeping my kid from loving parental interacting but when she unapologetically has daily tantrums… it seems taking away the one thing that seems to mean most to her is the ultimate consequence. Wrong or right…I think she needs the boundaries etched in stone, not drawn in chalk that can be washed away when either of us have a tearduct episode.

Which for me has become quite common, in light of what my sister’s faction is going through with K’s suicide, and also, TV shows that cause my tearducts to bleed tears that feel like knives…That tells me I am indeed depressed because normally, my tearducts seem broken due to mood stabilizers. But random crying jags…Wanting to go to sleep early and not wanting to wake up even from bad dreams, then not wanting to get up with my kid come morning…this is full on seasonal affective disorder. It is serious, it is debilitating, and my psych pros don’t care. Which means I have to care. I will not be the next murder by depression. Oh, yeah, call it suicide, but truth is…depression is what kills most people who do self destruct. People want to deny it but it is the truth.

Grrr….for the thousandth time…my kingdom for the ability to stay on topic. I know I am ranty and all over the place but at least I am honest about being a hot mess.

For today…I got stuff done. Once it hits the predicted minus 3 degrees tonight and I wake u 4 times so cold I go make sure the furnace is still running thus sparking anxiety and disrupting my sleep even more….A functional day does indeed seem like winning the lottery.