Category Archives: Read Along

The Magic of “I’m Disappointed” Part Deux

   You must listen to this entire song. I bet you’ll be very disappointed with me afterwards! 😉 I might wear a version of the lead singer’s outfit for my 1st book talk – what do you think?  First, here’s some essential 1970s rock education since most of you are way younger than I am. The song … Continue reading The Magic of “I’m Disappointed” Part Deux

Take Your Meds Like Clockwork…Or Not

It’s nearly 2 p.m. and I have yet to take a single medication. I know I am supposed to take them all in in a timely fashion every single day, spacing them out, blah blah blah…But honestly…Between the lithium and Trintellix side effects…I am in no hurry to take them even over time with or without food because yesterday…I waited, I had food, I took the meds…and wound up nauseous, my stomach ached, and my head hurt with sleepiness. (Humiliating to have to lay down in front of your child because your meds make you feel like you have the flu for an hour or two at random intervals.)

The psych professionals don’t take the meds so their only knowledge is from books and such so they can so easily say, “It’s normal, it’s no big deal, suck it up.”

The first week or two of Trintellex with it’s stomach agony and toilet ‘runs’ side effects…when it stopped, I was very open minded to sucking it up. THEN the nastiness returned and actually got worse. I cannot fathom any medical professional telling a patient to be okay with being in pain, being tied to the toilet, and feeling so sleepy you feel you need a babysitter for your child because you are so med-induced groggy.

NONE of them listen, even the best ones. Of course not, they don’t have to live with it every single day of their lives only to find their moods still swing randomly or their depression keeps tugging them under or their anxiety makes them want to drink a gallon of alcohol to dull the sensory overload. They. Don’t. Care.

We are supposed to take the meds, no questions asked, no protests, no ‘whining’, and we are apparently supposed to say thank you for the pain, embarrassment, and misery.

THAT is what makes me view psych meds the same way the TSA would view anyone of any ethnicity with a bomb-like item on their person. Potentially explosive and lethal. Mild grogginess, mild nausea, interrupted sleep, too much sleep…I can hang. But fetal position stomach agony, dating the toilet stomach issues, the constant near puking state-NONE of that is acceptable to me unless the medication has me dancing in the streets and listening to happy pop music and buying everything in bright neon colors out of joy.

For whatever depression ‘relief’ (what an oxymoron!) I may be feeling…The medication side effects are still kicking my ass, making me wary, fearful, and causing me to procrastinate taking the…medicinal toxins. I really despise the anti medication faction that comes with mental health care because most* of my meds don’t cause such misery…But in isolated cases, it’s relevant. More perturbing is the fact that it’s no longer a daily thing, it doesn’t matter if I take them with food or no food…The meds randomly mix up and cause me grief. Actually, grief makes it sound trivial. The word MISERY is more accurate.

Honestly, I am raising a child with no empathy or conscience, she appreciates nothing, she lies about everything, she takes and takes and rarely gives and even when I am bent over the toilet throwing up because the meds make me so ill, she’s making it all about her and how I am neglecting her needs…

The last bloody thing I need are meds that make me *that* damned ill with side effects. It’s not being non compliant, it’;s non being a quitter, it’s not being difficult. It’s me saying, I have way too much on my plate. It may be a fraction of what *others* deal with but with all my diagnoses…This is like trying to have a juggling contest with an octopus. I’m never gonna win cos 8 tentacles trumps two arms.

I’m not a wimp who can’t handle side effects.

I am, however, someone with multiple diagnoses thus multiple medications, all of which cause some side effect(s) and when they all combine, randomly…

The *cure* is *killing* me. At random intervals. WHO would rush to take the pills that causes this?

More meds and some Med

The past three weeks have been dedicated to getting used to an increased dose of quetiapine (now up to 600mg daily) and the introduction of valproate (500mg as Epilim Chrono). The fluoxetine has stayed the same at 20mg; psychiatrist wanted to double that dose to 40mg but I tried that once before and it triggered hypomania.

So far the valproate doesn’t seem to have kicked-in. Psych says this can take 2-4 weeks and couple of 6-8 weeks before noticing any change in mood. The valproate / increased quetiapine together have had a very sedating effect and at the moment this would seem to be the only side effect so far.

It’s been a real pain trying to get the prescription sorted with GP and pharmacy; the former seems to find it impossible to write a simple repeat prescription and the latter seem inept at getting a stock of quetiapine. Though I’ve noticed the past month that several people on Twitter have also reported problems of pharmacies getting stocks of it.

The school year has now ended and in the end I managed to have only 4 days off sick. I was aiming at having 0 days this academic year, after the several months I had off last year. I see these 4 days as failure, though no-one appears to agree with me.

I’m going away on holiday to the Med; I’ve worked bloody hard for it.


I Want This Job

Well I had the written assessment for the bleh temporary Desktop Support job yesterday and the person who would be the boss was administering it.  She seemed very cool and laid back and I got the feeling that I would like very much to work for her.  I feel like this would be the best situation for me if I have to get a job right now, it would be something I could do while I continue to look for a security position.  It would be a good situation to ease me back into full-time work after so much time not working (except for my cushy part-time stuff).  They are flexible about whether you take a lunch hour or not and I think they would let me go see the doctor without any b.s. which would really reduce my stress level.  So I am willing the phone to ring with good news.  Say your prayers for me or send me good juju or whatever you’re able to do please!!  Thank you!!

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar and Work, Bipolar Disorder Tagged: Bipolar, Bipolar Disorder, Blogging, Hope, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader

Camp Over

I pick up my youngest one in a little while and get to hear about all she did at camp.  But I plan to spend some more time socializing before I pick her up so I’m having coffee with Jo this morning.  I think we’ll have a good time.

I’m not sure what we’re going to do the rest of the day–I imagine she’ll be tired and want to rest but I know she’ll be hungry so I may take her to get Mexican.  I haven’t decided yet.  But I’m looking forward to having her home.

Kind of been a long week and I haven’t really done much to show for it.  I feel like I’m in a holding pattern waiting for all the paperwork to be processed for what all I have going on .  I’ve been doing my part putting myself out there for the universe so now I feel like it’s time for God to move.  But we will see.

Hope everyone has a good weekend.




The Chicken Or The Egg?

Of all the things I’ve ever lost, I miss my mind the most.

Seriously. My short-term memory is virtually non-existent nowadays, and it’s supremely frustrating. I can quote you the lyrics from a song that came out in 1975, but I can’t remember what I ate for lunch this afternoon…or even if I ate lunch at all. I’ve had memory issues since I was in my early 40s, but I blamed them on perimenopause then; now I realize that they were probably due to bipolar. At any rate, STM loss is a pain in the ass and I hate it.

A couple of years ago, I asked Dr. Awesomesauce if I might be developing dementia. I had trouble with word-finding, and sometimes would even forget what I was saying in mid-sentence. He was certain it wasn’t dementia, but possibly a combination of meds and brain damage from repeated bipolar episodes. Lamictal is notorious for this, and I take a crapload of it; I’ve also had many, many episodes of mania and depression throughout the course of my life. I still worry about early-onset Alzheimer’s, and I should get a second opinion from Dr. Goodenough, but I do wonder…which came first, the brain changes or the forgetfulness? And what, if anything, do meds have to do with it?

I mean, this is embarrassing. I’m apt to tell the same story to the same person at least twice; I try to read books but can’t remember the first part of a chapter by the time I get to the end of it; I can’t memorize phone numbers. This is one of the main reasons why I’m on disability, and why I lost my last job working with the state: I had to memorize large amounts of material, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even learn the stupid computer program I was supposed to use. And while I’m confessing, here’s this: on my blog posts, I always have to scroll back up to see what I’ve written lest I repeat myself. Pathetic.

It’s becoming harder to cover my faux pas. Or maybe I just think it is because I notice it and I’m self-conscious about it. My son Ethan thinks it’s funny: “Mom, you’ve said that three times in the past two days. You sound like a broken record!” (Yes, he does know what a record is. That’s what happens when a kid grows up with older parents.) I also miss some things and have to be reminded several times. However, the fact that he doesn’t seem to be concerned about it makes me feel slightly better; he works with elderly patients and knows what dementia looks like.

I strongly believe that meds have a lot to do with it, even though it feels like a cop-out. I’ve been maxed out on Lamictal since my hospitalization in November 2014, and the doctors warned me that this would probably happen. That too is somewhat reassuring, but it doesn’t make life easier. I also seem to fall a lot; I’ve had two of them in the past two weeks and four in the past year. It’s like I forget to lift one foot high up enough and trip over myself. They also told me that lack of coordination and poor balance are other side effects of large doses. But what can I do? I obviously need the medication…

Anyway, that’s my complaint of the day. I’ll scroll back up to see if this post makes sense, and then tonight I’ll crush it on Jeopardy! because I can remember all sorts of trivia as long as it happened in the past. Haha!

Losing My Cool

Yeah, I am losing my cool and only a fraction has to do with the 93 degree heat which isn’t much helped by a single window AC. I am at my wits’ end with my kid and all her friend drama and noise. She can’t play with more than one or two kids at a time so any time 5 or 6 kids are playing, inevitably there are fights and my kid bawling. The latest drama involved one of the older girls saying she is going to kick MY ‘big fat butt’ then a father getting involved and yelling at my kid because she dared protest his snowflakes throwing trash in our yard.

Now my sister tells me mom wants to gift Spook with a tablet as a birthday gift. AFTER SHE BROKE MY TABLET. What does that teach the child? That everything is disposable,you don’t have to be careful or take care of things, and you can always get another. And I told my sister that much, which I am sure has steam coming out of my mom’s ears. Whatever. I’ve come to terms with the fact my mother is never going to change and she will do whatever she wants, no matter what I say, and she’ll do it to spite me. She thinks I am too strict a parent and can’t wait to usurp me at every turn. I’ve actually found a bit of peace because mom can buy her the tablet but I get to dictate what it can be used for, when, and for how long. Crazy grandma may think she’s usurping me,but it’s actually giving me the upper hand. When the kid misbehaves, mommy repos the tablet.

I must sound like an ogre. Too bad. The child has zero empathy, refuses any responsibility, and if I don’t start driving it into her skull now, she is going to be a terrifying monster by the time she is 13. I’m not here to be her friend or be liked, my job is keep her fed, clothed, healthy, educated and to teach her right from wrong. If my family isn’t on board, they will be seeing less and less of her. MY child, MY call.

Anyway, I just needed to vent. My last post was a pretty upbeat one but nature of cyclothymia-esque bipolar is pretty much neverending ups and downs. And day three in the extreme heat with my kid and her friends driving my central nervous system to overload…Yeah, it’s not puppies and rainbow territory. I can tell myself “I am happy, I am calm, I am healthy” a zillion times but what I WANT to be and what I actually am are two different things. Positive attitude is an excellent coping tool until you use it as a form of denial thus invalidating your right to feel depressed or pissed off or whatever emotion at the time prevails. So be positive, but don’t be an ostrich. Sand tastes awful, anyway.

I did my high-ish functioning yesterday by going to the shop to tear apart and destroy 2 junked LCD tv’s for R. I did owe him money and honestly, taking a hammer and smashing things and stomping on them..Cathartic, therapeutic, and no criminal charges. But as usual, by hour three, my nerves were deep fried and I could not wait to get home to my safe little hovel. Plus side, while we were there, Spook didn’t spew pea soup and she was moderately helpful when I asked her to throw some screws or whatever into the trash.

Most likely it’s the excessive heat and not the Trintellix actually working (made my stomach upset this morning, but it didn’t yesterday, kinda random) but…I am no longer buried in my safe bedroom crypt all day and night. I am in the living room where the air conditioner is, for all the good it does. Living in a tin box in high temps and high humidity with minimal air is pretty miserable all around and Mr. Forecastperson says we have 4 more days of this misery. Yay. NOT. But now I am in the living room, watching shows on the TV via computer vga hook up and also using my second non smashed screen laptop when I want to write or whatever. I’ve emerged from my coffin, as Spook calls my bedroom. Sorry but bright light disorients me so I do try to keep my rooms dark or dark-ish. Whatever tiny comforts can be found have to be embraced.

Now I am going to stop because I am afraid my sweaty legs are going to damage the computer and frankly, I can’t stand anything on me in this heat. Spook came home in 95 degree heat and even then, I put her in her bouncer and adored her that way. Can’t stand extra touching when it’s so hot and humid indoors I have cat hair clinging to every inch of bare skin.

You’re welcome for that mental picture.

Baby Pierre Leaves The Nest!


Sweet Baby Pierre was the first baby to leave the nest.  In typical Bipolar On Fire fashion, I missed it because I was perusing my phone 😉  All of a sudden, I looked up, and there was a lovely white bird in the cage!!  PIERRE!!  He stayed in the cage for about ten minutes, but Peaches and Herb’s constant bickering (what the HELL, P&H??) must have scared him because he returned to the nest and there he stays.  Peaches and Herb need to work on their relationship, there has been a lot of squawking and chasing each other around the cage.  It doesn’t make for a very restful home environment.  I would separate them, but I need both of those fuckers to feed the babies.

Today I have a written assessment for a goddamn temporary desktop support job.  I guess there are so many qualified candidates, they need to weed them out with a written test before they decide who to interview.  Needless to say, the job search is going shitty.  I have not gotten one bite on a security job that I’ve applied for.  My attitude is shit.  I woke up this morning worrying about jobs.  What a terrible way to wake up.  Today is day 22 without my friend Mary Jane and man do I miss it!!!  It really cuts the stress.  Life without substances is quite the bitchass bitch, I say!

Yesterday as Mom & Dad’s maid I made Swedish Meatballs over mashed potatoes and it was so good, I am including a link to the recipe here!  Holy hell is it good.  Quite a lot of work but soooooo worth it.  Mom & Dad are really going to suffer without their maid once I get a full-time job, I’m worried about that.  I don’t mean to be Negative Nellie and go on and on, but sorry I guess that’s where I’m at.

Hope you all are having a good week, if you’re not join the club and tell me about it!  I will support you!!!  I’m sure my shit ain’t the stinkiest.  Peaches, BPOF!

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar and Anxiety, Bipolar and Stress, Bipolar and Work, Bipolar Crazy Bird Lady, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Pothead, Mental Illness, Psychology, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Blogging, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader

Senator’s Office

So I did call my senator’s local office yesterday and got my request in with them that they do what they can to expedite my claim for my kids’ benefits.  I had to fill out a release form giving them permission to get information about my case, so that was fun.  I got the release, filled it out, and had Bob fax it back, then they couldn’t read all of my writing.  So they called me to check on all the numbers.  So we got that straightened out.  Hopefully they will be able to move this along a little faster than it would have taken otherwise.

I ate with my friend KT yesterday at a really good Chinese place.  SHe and I were both wearing yellow so that was funny.  Things are going well for her–her daughter has an internship with UMC coming up and will be at home then going off to graduate school somewhere (she hasn’t decided).  But we had a good visit during her lunch hour.

I was talking to my buddy Mike in Wisconsin and sent him my poem I wrote about the ballplayer traded for catfish, and he told me that ever since I had shown him a poem I had done for class back when we were both at State twenty years ago, he had thought I was a great poet first and then a very good everything-else.  He said he loved all my writing, but that my poetry was especially good.  I’ve never thought that way.  Maybe I should take poetry again and see how I do.  I’ll have to think about that.


Now I’m Really Mad

at Social Security.  I found my original application and saw where they took down the names of my kids.  The guy I called Monday tried to tell me that I never told them I had children.  I’m going to get my senator’s office involved to see if we can expedite this a little bit.  I want it taken care of as soon as possible.

Not much else going on around here.  I’m just trying to stay busy and not worry about my writing right now.  I’m not sure what’s wrong but I’m not interested in trying to work on my thesis or on anything to get ready for my fiction class.  I wrote one small bit for  a  contest and I like it.  But I’m worried that all I can do are small bits.  I don’t know what the problem is.

But I am staying with the blogging so that will be good.  What I’m really struggling with is the scope of my thesis. Do I want to confine it to just before I was diagnosed to present?  Or do I want to include the episodes in my early life as well?  I feel like they are important but don’t know how to cover it in depth.  But I have time to figure it out.