Daily Archives: March 14, 2018

Stephen Hawking January 8, 1942-March 13, 2018

He was brilliant, arguably the most intelligent man alive. He was only supposed to live to about 23 years of age, because of being diagnosed with ALS in 1963, yet he lived into his 76th year. And the irony of the man with the most brilliant brain having no control of his body is not lost here. Yet he did not let that defeat him! He lived and breathed and theorized and studied and went on with his life. He studied black holes and his most well known theory was that black holes didn’t swallow up everything, they actually released radiation (!) which is now known as Hawking radiation.

Of course, he was beyond brilliant, he was also personable and funny, making many appearances on shows such as the Big Bang Theory and the Simpsons. He wrote a book called “A Brief History of Time ” which has sold over 10 million copies! He also knew and extolled the power of not giving up, he knew perseverance, he told us not to look at our feet but look at the stars. Here is his direct quote: “Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious. And however difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. It matters that you don’t just give up.”

For more of his brilliant and insightful quotes, see here: https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.theguardian.com/science/2018/mar/14/best-stephen-hawking-quotes-quotations

He was amazing, his brain was beyond brilliant.

What do you say when the most intelligent man on earth, literally the most intelligent man is gone? We were so lucky to have him. We will miss him so very much.

Yo Gabba Gabba, Get Me Off Gabupentin!

Fundraising. Do it for the kitty. Vex says, PWEEEZE?

I started up Effexor again without incident.

I took one dose of Gabupentin and….FUCK THIS SHIT!!! I had a 36 hour headache, could barely stay awake, and honestly wanted to die. I felt that damn bad. I didn’t take a second dose. Honestly, from the research I did, I think new doc started me on wayyyyy to high a dose. Had she bothered to talk to me she would know the ONE caveat I have for all meds is, ‘if it makes me unable to be a competent mom, I ain’t taking it’. 36 hour headache for one dose!!! Who the hell would find that a good thing?

I am so frustrated with everything. I went in for my lithium level today and all the florescent lighting and wide open space had me barely able to stand up straight, lab lady laughed when I almost tipped over. I know she meant no ill will. Were it not me, I would have gotten a chuckle, too, I suppose. Just so maddening when even the simplest things are affected by anxiety and depression!

Twelve years I have had lithium levels done a few timea a year and this is the first time where the instructions I was given verses what was computer generated from new doc were at odds. This is why I want consistency in my psych doctor. Every single one is different and when you’re forced to deal with 7 docs in 8 years…you can’t get your feet under you. One doc says it’s okay to take the whole dose of lithium at night, the new one insists you take two doses a day 12 hours apart. One doc says no food, another says you must take with food.

My psych care is making me more psychotic!!!!

Except I wasn’t at all psychotic until I started getting treated for what I used to think were simple mood swings and some mega personality quirks. And I was happier and had way more self esteem back them. You’d think finding out your condition is legit and not just your own weirdness would make you feel better. NOPE.

I’ve had sucidal ideations since the move. I am ready to give up, many days. The only thing that holds me back is this gorgeous but annoying lil monster.

Don’t wanna donate for me? She has things she needs, too, so maybe do it for her?

I am not feeling too awful today. In fact, having learned what it truly felt like to feel like death courtesy of the yo gabba gabba gabupentin…I’ve had two good days. Not cos anything great happened or my mood was elated. Simply because I didn’t have a skull crushing headache and want to die. I know what new doc said is true, meds work well for maybe six out of ten, and obviously, me and gabba gabba are in the four that don’t work. Just, dear God, how does one pill manage to make someone feel so shitty for 36 hours??? I’ve been on Remeron, Seroquel, Latuda- none were as bad as Yo Gabba Gabba.

Live and learn. I had high hopes on something that would help with my anxiety but being so overly sedated for two days with a pounding headache ain’t my idea of help or improvement.

Don’t like cats or kids? Donate for the sake of cheesy 80’s horror movie icons!

I have started keeping a paper and pen journal and trust me…I’ve already been critiquing myself. “Do you ever not complain?” “Is there never something that doesn’t annoy you?” “What doesn’t make you panic and stress out?” Only with mental health issues would that be a thing. No one would ever ever say, “You can’t talk your blood sugar into being positive and not needing insulin?”

No, not saying it’s the exact same thing. Just saying, physical versus mental, mental health issues are the red headed stepchild everyone wants to beat up.

Final note…Vex’s sister, Hex, wants wet food, so she is asking for you to donate.

Moi, manipulative? Nope. Just working with what seems to appeal.

How can you NOT donate to the mustached monkey????

Playing with MailChimp. Not Writing.

What have I been doing all day? Working hard on my memoir? Fleshing out memories I’ve jotted down on a yellow legal pad and in emails to myself? Editing Chapter One with feedback I’ve been given? Starting my rough draft…

Fear And Self Loathing Not In Las Vegas

STILL trying to make ends meet.

It’s been almost 3 weeks since I actually used my laptop to post. I am using the hotspot feature on my phone so every minute ticks by like a cash register reminding me the time I use, the time I lose, and have to pay to replace. Grrr. Like counting every drop of water we use isn’t stressful enough. That bill, before we use a drop of water, is $65 a month. It’s hysterical in a not funny at all way that living in Armpit, USA, actually triples our monthly costs. I never wanted this. I spent nine years living within my means, never going over unless it was unexpected or pet related. Now I am behind before I even start. It’s been over 2 weeks and I still can’t afford the $63 to start trash service. I have two powerbills to pay now, cos I have to cover the old place as well as this new place. Forget internet service. Which is driving me and my kid nuts.

But I am still asking for donations. Like not being successful has ever stopped me in life. And it’s laughable, raising ten bucks in a month. I must be a really awful person if I can’t even motivate people to throw in a fiver for my kid or cats.

While asking for donations…I get a comment commiserating but asking what work I do…And the self loathing and shame kick in and ya know what? That should never happen for someone who has a legitimate disabiility. Society is the one who has deemed mental disabilities less worthy than physical ones. It also perpetuates the myth that you can only be a valid member of society if you have a job.

My goal through the entire last 7 years has been ONE measly year of medication stability so when an employer asks, “are you stable and reliable?” I could say honestly YES. It hasn’t happened and that is to my own chagrin. I have tried, pushed myself, pushed myself harder, dealt with utterly wretched people who gave zero fucks about me or my and my child’s well being…

And it means nothing to the world. I have no job, I don’t matter. And worse, I have the audacity to ask for donations, again, only for people who have jobs or physical ailments.

Maybe having no consistent internet access will be good for me. I have obviously become too invested in what others think of me, others who don’t know me, don’t know how hard I try, and don’t care. But I think I am so invested because more than anything I WANT to work. I want to be able to stand on my own and support my child and my own mind simply won’t cooperate. It hurts. And it’s why I’m not too proud to asking for donations. I tried working, I lasted 4 months with the situation with R, I pushed myself until I melted down and wanted to die. I’m not asking for handouts to buy a big plasma TV. I am asking because I have made every effort to help myself and get better, but right now…I need help. I need help not simply for myself but because I have an 8 year old counting on me and this move doubled our expenses. With child support I can eventually handle the monthly expenses but I need help getting caught up.

We have no closets, so dad bought us wardrobe cabinets. The freezer didn’t work so dad bought us one of those. My car keeled over, so he bought me a 2001 Lumina. I owe the power company $500 between the two residences. I still owe the landlord $325 toward deposit and that is something that could get us thrown out if I don’t come up with. I now use four times as much gas in the car since we have to drive 18 miles just to get ‘to town’ let alone the grocery store.

Hate my whining? You’ll never hate it as much as me.

I was content being trailer park trash because I knew I could afford it and wouldn’t get in over my head or need to beg for help. When the scumlord sold out and it became ‘buy in or get out’, I was thrust into a position I did not choose so again…asking for help ain’t easy but it’s legit. Nothing I did wrong got us here. We simply got screwed over by a very corrupt liar.

And now my new doctor…I truly do feel doomed. I had to have my lithium level done today and the lab couldn’t even decipher if it was supposed to be before my meds or 12 hours after or fasting, and I asked the doc and she said yes to fasting and 12 hours but I don’t think she was listening at all. I think the level will come back wonky and I will have to do it again and it will be because she was too busy complaining about Dr. B leaving them shortstaffed as opposed to treating me.

I keep soul searching for what I did wrong, how I am viewing it wrong but…something is more off about this woman than the doc nurse. Takes some doing. Maybe by expressing how sad I was to see Dr. B go to new doc I sealed my fate. I wonder if I had castigated him for his abrupt departure if new doc would have given me more time and listened.

We can delude ourselves all we want with the whole professional detachment thing. Shrinks are still humans, still have feelings and biases and sometimes, they just don’t like the patient or take time to even try. And I don’t give a damn if my cashier at the gas station likes me or not but then, that cashier isn’t going to be the one handling my disability claim thus necessitating some sort of knowledge and bond.

New doc is just…not connecting. Maybe if she’d spent the 30 minutes with me instead of 7 minutes cos she was running behind schedule…

But the ending of that story is always the same. I have mental issues, I am in the wrong, the professionals are always right and the truth, which lies somewhere in between, is irrelevant.

Click that picture if you can help us. Please.

So I Didn’t Win

I did not win out over my anxiety and suicidal thinking so I wound up back in the hospital Tuesday night in the ER,  I had finally gotten an appointment with my doctor n Wednesday but could not wait that long to see him.  So I went in and got admitted to the intermediate ward.  I’ll write more about it in the days to come as I’m able to process more about it–I’m still adjusting to getting back home and getting my bearings. Just wanted to let everyone know where I had been all this time.