Daily Archives: April 3, 2018

The Situation Isn’t Getting Any Better

Thinking it may be time to make the dreaded call: another med combo failure. Dr. H agreed with me that my negative side effects from gabapentin were likely masking any positive effects from 3 weeks on Effexor so last week she said give it a week, then call her nurse and report. It is with great chagrin and disgust that I must report…I feel as lousy now as I did 4 months ago. So…zero progress with Effexor after 4 weeks and a dose increase. This does not bode well. I am disappointed, to say the least. And I am having a really difficult time with the basic task of making phone calls. My anxiety is so enormous, just dialing a number is daunting, let alone actually interacting with other humans and assorted necessary nastiness. Case in point…

State insurance went the HMO route but because of the move, I failed to change any plan info and haven’t receieved any forwarded mail so as it stands…I have no idea if whoever the state lumped me with will cover my shrink as a secondary. I made the necessary hellish calls, wasting a good two hours of phone talk time, only to be told my account ‘has a hold on it’ but they couldn’t tell me why and referred me to another number where I was #94 in the que. Yep, I couldn’t afford to waste time cos prepaid means you pay for your phone talk time and I can’t afford $15 just waiting two more hours…So let the chips fall where they may. I am such a beaten down pup at this point…meh.

The weather has been hellish and YES, as much as people loathe using a mental health diagnosis to label weather…BIPOLAR. It’s spring already and we got 3 inches of snow for bloody Easter. And lots of gloom and rain. NOT helping lift my seasonal depression issues. And you know for all my griping about lack of understanding and empathy for depression itself…I find, even with my new shrink, that season-relate depression is as illegitimate as a child born out of wedlock 60 years ago. Do the professionals really think this is how I choose to feel simply because the weather is icky? Hell no! This is an oppressive blanket quashing all positive sentiment even on things I love. That is clinical depression, not some “I’m uncomfortable because it’s snowy and cold” affectation. Depression is depression when it goes on long term. Inability to ever feel true joy or contenment even with that which previously consoled you in worse personal circumstances…DEPRESSION, BITCHES.

I’ve done a lot of soul searching on that topic. Determining what is situational depression versus clinical. Because, hell, yeah, I have lots of things dragging me under right now. I don’t like the town where we live and maybe if I didn’t literally live three blocks from my dad’s house, maybe just maybe, I’d hate it less. But it is what it is and I feel self conscious, uncomfortable, watched, and judged. I keep trying to tell myself it’s all in my head, I am being ludicrous…then my stepmom informs me she had a chat with the post office clerk about why I’m getting two different power bills to the same address. Seriously, wtf, postal clerk? Ever heard of being professional and not gossiping? And duh, I have an old power bill from our former address (paid) and a new one for this place (also paid) but still…it’s no one else’s fucking business. That is a ridiculous invasion of privacy. Not to mention stepmonster asking how much is your water bill, why didn’t you get yours the same day as me (she has a p.o. box, I get mine delivered at home, day delivery discrepancy, again NOT her damn business.) I just mumble and say I dunno cos I am all about not making things worse with some absurd family war. Still…SMALL TOWNS SUCK.

To digress. I have looked back on many periods of my life: up, down, gutter, manic, stranded in Bumfuck, living in town, with a partner, without one, with my kid, without one…And this isn’t mere situational depression and anxiety. This is a condition essentially allowed to fester and metastasize because their nurse doc is color-by-numbers noob and their lack of staff put me on hold for months…I can remember being a 14 year old stranded in pop 144 Flannelville, bullied within an inch of my life, unable to go anywhere since the nearest town was 7 miles away and I couldn’t drive, had no money of my own…And I had very up periods when by all accounts, I should have felt doomed and low.

Aside from not being able to afford trash service (again, tripled monthly costs really cut into a disability check) or internet…we have a different home, in better shape, with different (better) furniture, we got a washer and dryer as Easter gifts (except dad’s gift means I have to use my car and gas at 6 in the morning to run their errands, but oh well)…we have a different, better car. We have food, our cats, we’re getting free tv stations cos of those free digital antennas I got at the shop…In so many ways aside from locale, we have it 100 times better here. Ya know, in quality of our home, possessions, transportation. Maybe oweing my dad’s faction brings me down but it never used to bother me so I have to wonder if the depression is making me hyper aware that I am in debt as opposed to other times when I calmly accepted I owed them and it would take time to get square.

This depression is clinical, no matter how many situational things may impact it. Fact is, I look forward to sleep. That’s about it.

And the other night sleep even became a living hell because for the first time in ages..I had the sleep paralysis dream I’ve had since I was a child. As a kid, it was this unable to move terror where I saw the mustached butcher at the grocery store in my aunt’s sewing room and he wanted to hurt me. Now, I don’t see him, but I do get that ‘nodded off but not quite dead to the word, terrified, let me wake up, omg, I can’t move” nightmare thing. I am literally paralyzed. It was awful and terrifying and horrific and I was up at 5 a.m. Easter Sunday cos I couldn’t bear nodding back off to ‘that’ state.

Right now, Spook is playdating with dad’s faction. They didn’t ask me, just told her they were ‘kidnapping’ her for the evening. I love being treated like I don’t exist and she isn’t my kid. Love it. NOT. Ass trash.

I keep going but I am pushing that boulder uphill again and the thought of calling the doctor’s office to admit to another med failure is as horrific as sleep paralysis nightmares.

I just want to feel better, to want to wake up, live life to the best of my ability, and go to bed at night not hating myself for hating being alive.

I don’t know that that made any sense but I swear it did in my own mind.

Yeah, yeah, I should sue my brain for non support.

Brought Tears to My Eyes

https://nypost.com/2018/04/03/stephen-hawkings-final-gift-was-an-easter-feast-for-the-homeless/

This has erased the last doubt in my mind over the question,

“Was Stephen Hawking really a mensch?”

Read it and tell me.

Bob’s Sick

Bob woke up sick this morning–throwing up at about a quarter of six.  So that has put a damper on the day.  I am still going to Psycamore but Candy and Christy may not come if he doesn’t feel better soon.

Getting up early has had one benefit–I have almost caught up all my schoolwork!  I still need to do the reading and the response but I finished the workshop responses both early this morning so that is a load off of my mind. I posted my exercise in the thread for that and hopefully will get some comments on it.  I’m not holding out much hope for that, but maybe I will get lucky and someone will find something useful to say to fix it.  I’m not satisfied with it but I don’t know what to do as yet.

Talked last night over Facebook to a guy I know who has started counseling for his troubles.  It always amazes and saddens me hwo awful people can be to each other, particularly in a family unit. i hope I was able to help him by listening.

This is Finals Dinner week for my oldest.  She is responsible for cooking lamb for it and helping with everything else. I just pray that she does well and does not get too stressed out about it.  I can’t imagine doing a nine-course meal with 20 other people and knowing my final grade depended on all of them doing what they said they would.  So I have no idea how to empathize except to pray that she makes it without losing her temper or having a panic attack.

Hope everyone has a good start to their week!

Countdown to Muskogee. . . 17

As a liberal Northerner, I have some preconceived beliefs about the South.  When I started looking at them, I realized I needed to bring all of the ugliness into the Light if I was to be happy there.  It was uncomfortable work.  I know enough about belief and selective perception that this work will be ongoing—to be mindful of looking for evidence that supports what I already believe and ignoring evidence to the contrary.  I want to be open to the beauty, the charm, the kindness and good manners of Oklahoma.  I want to love it there.

So, the Work begins.

Formatting My First Book

Been busy formatting my first book for publication. Problem is that while formatting it for Kindle ebook publication, I made changes. I can’t resist editing… So, my Scrivener project is different than my Word manuscript which is now different than…