Daily Archives: June 3, 2012

Sleepy Sunday

Sat 6/2/12 2:43 pm

I am watching the Def Leppard story for a second time. It’s R’s disc. I wish I could figure out how to turn on the closed captioning since I can’t understand every third word of the British accents. (sorry Bex!) Stupid overly complicated digital LCD TV.
Ya know, I think the guy they cast to play Steve Clark is cuter than Steve Clark was. Not to be disrespectful of the dead. Just saying.

Spook and I hit a couple of yard sales  before it started raining.
My energy was just crap, so we came home, then went back out again to run some errands. Had to make a special trip to Mom’s to get her toy puppy.

Waiting to hear from Dad to see if they want to keep Spook tonight.

On the phone with Betty.

6/3/12 10:23 AM

Got distracted when I was writing last night. Had about six different mood swings in a six hour span, just said fuck the whole blogging bit. Hard to do when your mind is a congested traffic jam of emotions brought on by erratic mood shifts you can’t begin to explain. I did, later on after a two hour nap, get up and do some housework and write some on my vampire novel. Right now it’s just fucking around, laying a story line down, but after four years…it’s something.

At this moment, I am  at mom’s doing laundry. Spook spent the night at Dad’s, they took her to some small town carnival shindig. I think it’s funny she kept them up til eleven last night (these are people who usually go to bed before 10 pm.) Maybe they can understand why I am perpetually exhausted. The child is a battery bunny.

Counting down til Tuesday when the net will be turned back on.  I am excited.
I am also scared. I’ve taken a step forward, broken out of my anxiety induced holding pattern, and now so many things could go wrong…
But I am trying to keep an upbeat attitude.

Didn;t find shit at yard sales this weekend. Sometimes it’s like that, especially if I get all hyper and think I am going to find treasure. That;s usually when the fates give a demonic childlish laugh and say DENIED.

I don’t have much else to say, and I’m not sure if it;s because I have an Elavil hangover making me uber sleepy or if I just don;t feel comfy enough to write when I am out of my safe zone. Whatever. Soon, you will all be regaled regularly with my tales of bitching and moaning and cheese and whine. Yay for you.
Or my sympathies.
Either way…
I am vapor.

mentally hypomanic following meltdown

Fri June 1,2012 2:14 a.m.

I am burning some Big Bang Theory episodes to disc. Feeling a little hypomanic, but then, today is kind of a potentially fun filled day.
One, pay day.
Two, bonus day at the shop.
Three, I may be getting my net turned back on.
Four, it is also yard sale today and who knows what treasures await me.

I’m so hopped up, yet frozen (literally and metaphorically, it is fucking cold out!) that I can just sit here and chain smoke and stare off into space. The energy level in my mind is pure hypomania though.

Earlier, I came close to having a rage induced stress break down.

Those kids were bugging me again. They gave me two bucks for a baby swing, which it took me fifteen minutes to dig out of the shed…then they came back ten minutes later, interrupting our supper, and said they already had a swing and wanted a walker. Only it wasn’t a walker they wanted at all,it was an exersaucer. I drug it out. An hour later, an irate woman shows up at my door with the exersaucer, grousing that they stole her money and she didn’t want the damn thing. I was in no mood to bicker, just gave her the money back. Two whole dollars, really, she was freaking about two dollars?
Then Spook saw the exersaucer and wanted to play in it, never mind she outgrew it over a year and a half ago. That started a forty minute tantrum on her part and I just started melting down. Add the kittens climbing all over me unrelentingly and I was a basketcase. I was so mad at those damn kids for harassing me for six solid days, for  bugging me and then getting the pissy woman at my door…I just really wanted to get out the shovel.

It passed, eventually, but I had to put myself in a time out for ten minutes because I couldn’t handle my own surplus of negative emotion as well as Spook’s tantrum. It just felt like the ropes were snapping and I was honestly scared of what would be left of my sanity, if anything, once they all broke. I was just wired on fury and yet nearly in tears from stress and anxiety. I do not like feeling emotions that strongly. Unfortunately, it seems par for the course with this disorder.

Anyway…I’ve already decided if those kids bother me again, I am not going to be nice. I won’t be rude, but I will be firm and not encourage them. This is bullshit, turning my own home into a damn prison for me where I feel the need to hide from knocks on the door. Bad enough the knocks cause panic attacks, I don’t need their crap too.

And now…I think I will try to soothe the savage beast that is my mind by curling up under some warm covers until it is time to face my day and see if it turns out to be fun or if everything turns to shit and I feel worse than I did to begin with. It could go either way. Probably the only reason I bothered gnawing through the straight jacket straps every day.

the panic room

Fri 6/1/12 10:38 pm

I have cobwebs on my brain but I slept my requisite two hours and now I am awake, feeling on the verge of hypomania, whether it be creative hypomania or house keeping hypomania or just a teaser…I am not sure.
What I am sure of is that I am bloody sick of having a kitten hanging from me at all times. These are some wussy pussies, ffs, they may as well be an appendage. My shoulders bear witness to the fact that they climb me like a great Sequoia tree and have yet to learn the art of claw retraction.
They’re just so damned cute and sweet or otherwise I’d eat them with fava beans and  a nice chianti.

Paid rent today. The landlord seemed pissed that the redneck’s still haven’t taken the fence down in spite of him telling them five times (or so he says.) He says they go to court on Wednesday over the eviction but if they choose to pay up, they can stay. IT IS NEVER ENOUGH TO RAIN ON MY PARADE, SOMEONE ALWAYS HAS TO BLOW UP THE FLOATS, TOO!
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I want those losers gone. And that stupid dog. Which wouldn’t be a stupid dog if it didn’t make so much noise. I can’t abide noisy dogs, never could.  I also loathe the fact that I can’t even go turn on the light in my laundry room and that stupid dog is growling and barking its head off and straining its chain trying to get at me through my back door because I dare to conduct my business in my own home near domain.
Goes to show the landlord doesn’t give a fuck as long as he gets his money.

Went to a couple of yard sales before going to the shop. Not much going on there but I was invited in. Apparently, R and Kenny consider me one of their gang of three, a family of sorts, us against the world. Kinda the way I wanted it to be with Lump and I, a united front against the suck-a-thon called this cess pool world.
Tis nice to be part of something.
Though do I want to belong to something that will have me as part of it?

I am getting the internet turned back on Tuesday. Waiting to see if my sister could get it done today brought epic bouts of panic that made my left arm go numb and my heart feel like it was going to punch its way out of my chest. I dry swallowed a xanax, it was so bad. I wasn’t that nervous when I had my psych eval. Probably because convincing someone I am mentally wonky is a cakewalk, I am mentally wonky, but convincing the cable company to give her that cheapie deal I don’t qualify for was not a given.
It’s a one year price for a two year contract but considering what I have spent on cell phone time, it will be well worth it and R said he will try to make sure he can keep me busy enough to keep it paid.
Yes, I am one of those pathetic people whose life exists in their computer. And ya know what? I don’t care. I am interacting with society when I must and when I feel up to it, but if the internet is my social life…so what. Not hurting anyone. I just miss my mental health support system.

That was such a vicious panic attack, I can’t even remember when I had one that scary. Yeah, yeah, I know, no one has ever died from a panic attack, you won’t go crazy, blah blah yada yada. It was almost like having a bloody heart attack. Those pains in my left hand and arm freaked me the fuck out.
Of course, I ended up feeling like a huge freak. I’m 39 years old, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t I “outgrown” the bloody panic atacks? What is wrong with me? If this is a learned behavior, as the professionals claim, why can’t I unlearn it? Do they think I enjoy feeling that way and choose to perpetuate it?
I think it should be legal and moral to feed someone a pill to induce panic attacks of that magnitude if they scoff.
It is NOT a good time.
And I don’t care if I won’t die, in that moment, it feels like I am going to die, and it’s perfectly normal to fear that if it feels like your heart is about to make a break for it and escape your own chest cavity.

The rest of the day passed without incident.
Picked my kid up. We ordered pizza. We played. We both went to bed. She still sleeps while I write this.
I’m hopped up on the potential of yard saling in the morning. You never know what treasures you will find, and I get very excited. It’s a disappointment on the days when you find nothing or just junky stuff, but when you get that deal on exactly what you were wanting or find something unique…THAT is a high for me I can’t describe. Like a drug, very much so.
Of course, my driving panic is getting to the point where basic trips out into the petri dish scare me on a whole new level. People just don’t pay attention and I wonder if most of them got their licenses out of a box of Cracker Jacks after having Stevie Wonder as an instructor. I was sitting in a turn lane today, and two lanes of traffic were rushing by me, and they were just mere inches from my car, and I began to panic to the extent the walls were closing in on me. I felt so exposed, like a target, and I could not wait to complete the turn and get back to the shop, parked, and out of that melee.
This is about par for the course, start getting the depression in check and the mood swings lessened, and now my panic attacks are starting to worsen.
Ain’t life grand.

Now…I think I am going to sit and chain smoke and stare into space in the hopes of something creative or motivating hitting me. God knows I have no shortage of housework I could be doing.
Though what I really want to be doing is writing, but that can’t be forced, it just has to flow.

And for anything to flow, I am going to need to remove this lump called Azazel from my shoulder.

I don’t wanna be today

Thurs 5/31/12 3:55 pm

We went from ninety five in the shade to sixty and cold rain.
My bones ache from the cold dampness.
I am sitting here, a kitten on each shoulder, and my feet are numb.

I did a good one today. I brought the shop phone home in my pocket. I stuck it in my sweater pocket when we went back to smoke…then I just left with it. Had to call R, and Kenny came and got it. He also brought me cigarette rolling supplies, a fountain drink, and a 2 liter of Dr Pepper. Said they were “taking care of me”, although R says it was mostly Kenny.

Nonetheless, I still feel like a giant dumbduck.

Yesterday, I borrowed Kenny’s lighter and brought it home with me.

I worry that they are starting to notice that I am slipping.

I wonder if it’s the erratic sleep patterns.

I wonder if it’s a side effect of the meds.

I wonder if I am just finally cracking and losing my mind.

Dreary day. I didn’t want to be sitting at home, I didn’t want to be at the shop. I just really wanted to not be.
I dunno why.
Some days are like that.

Spook is napping, she was crankmaster 2012.
I am trying to just unwind and gather my thoughts.
Hard to do when these kittens won’t let me move an inch without being attached to me. I guess it is what I wanted, although not to this extreme. These are serious mama’s babies, to a disturbing degree.

I feel like such an idiot. I should not be making all these dumb mistakes. Geesh. I could hear R’s annoyance on  the phone. (Or am I imagining it? I never know.)

I should be napping.
I need the rest.
I need alone time, too.
Juggle, juggle.
I can’t juggle.
I am trying.
I am failing in some respects.
I am slipping. And I am afraid.
And I wish the counselor would listen to me and not just assume I am being a pessimist. This is serious, I know the signs too well…The cycle has started its next phase.

I just…
don’t wanna

an unquiet mind

5/31/12 Thurs 12:15 a.m.

My mind is most certainly not quiet tonight.
Round and round the rusty squeaking hamster wheel goes.
Thoughts bounce around the walls of my mind like a vigorous game of old fashioned pin ball, ding, ding, ding, ding ding ding ding ding.
No points being racked up here, just more confusion and questions.

I have a purring kitten on my shoulder. Azazel clings to me more than my kid, and frankly, he is driving me insane. I can’t do anything because he is just always on me. For someone who values their personal space as I do, it can be quite maddening. But I have to remind myself I also don’t like when cats are too distant and relegate me to little more than the food dish filler and cat box cleaner.
Maybe nothing will ever make me happy.
Though, as I have reiterated for anyone who will listen, I quit aiming for happy years ago, I’d be elated with a happy medium.

I am very worried about this whole slipping thing, as far as helping out at the shop goes. This is how it started at every job I ever held. I was a superstar for several months, then the manic tendancies would begin to impact my focus, then my attention span would die off, then I’d be back into SAD…Over and over. I try to break the cycle but can’t seem to, and frankly, if I truly have this chemical imbalance then it’s not a cycle I can break or else I wouldn’t need the stupid fucking meds. All this behavior modification bullshit grates on my last nerve. There’s a big difference between choosing to smoke a cigarette and having your life be a roller coaster ride on the mood twister because something in your brain is fucked up.
Modify this, bitches.

My attitude also slips, when my functionality slips. I get panicky, and then I fear confrontation about all my little screw ups that add up over time, and I get defensive and then I just start throwing out the whole “fuck you, fuck off and die” vibe. Because after so many years and so many rinse, lather, repeat cycles, I am exhausted and sick of explaining myself because no one ever sees it as an explanation, it’s just me making excuses for poor behavior. Which is a crock of shit. I own my mistakes. I live them down every single day of my life. But like diabetes, my mood swings are not some behavioral choice where I just decide I want to switch gears a dozen times an hour.

12:38 am is not the time to be pondering this shit. I should be asleep. I was asleep. Until I wasn’t. I’m not exactly rushing to take an Elavil, not after yesterday’s hangover that lasted four hours of the morning to the point where I felt I needed a nap.
That sucks.
Doctors will never get it. Those who wish to be bombed out on sleep meds are different from those of us who just want to sleep normally then begin to function normally instead of waiting several hours for the haze to clear.

I will talk to her next week about these little slippage signs. They worry me. I really don’t like failing people, and all these little screw ups at the shop are making me feel like I am failing R. Not to mention, it makes me look like the same old flake I was all those years ago when I have tried so hard to become a different, better person, in spite of my illness.
I hope it’s a case of me judging myself too harshly.
I pray it’s not me starting to come unglued because I can’t take the pressure.
Most of all, I pray whatever noise this laptop is making and why the keys are sticking isn’t something fatal. I really like this laptop, even if I do have three other computers to fall back on.

more pondering of the noisy mind.
Damn it to hell.


Wed 5/30/12 5:14 pm

I am slipping. I can feel it, I see the signs, and I am terrified.

My counselor thinks I spend too much time focusing on the “what if” and “when” of my illness.

I have been caught off guard so many times, I can’t afford not to be hyper aware of the signs of slippage.

Every time, and I do mean every single time to date, I think I am doing great, getting better, I begin to decline in little ways, at first, then in bigger ways, until everything is a giant clusterfuck and I am face first on the floor going, WTF!

I don’t go looking for negative things.
At the same time, I am beyond the point of denial as far as my bipolar goes.
It’s a vicious neverending cycle and it is rinse, lather, repeat. So if you miss the signs that you are unraveling, it’s your own idiocy.
I am not an idiot.

I am becoming increasingly restless when doing things, like being at the shop. When I am there, all I can do is think about going home, to my safe zone, because feeling like a target out in the open is too much for me to handle psychologically. I am interacting, and at times, it feels authentic. Most times, it feels like fraud, because I’m not “cured” or “all better” and I am NOTHING like those around me. I’m not special, but I am differently abled, as much as I loathe the whole political correctness bandwagon.

I got a call today about an application I put in for a car rental agency work-at-home job. That would suit me so beautifully. I rushed to use R’s computer to take the test…only to end up feeling like a big lying fraudulent jackass because some of those questions you simply can’t answer honestly, mentally ill or not. No, I don’t really care what people think of me, because then I’d never be me, I’d always be pleasing the various opinions of others to make them happy.
You can’t well say that on this sort of thing or it makes you look rebellious and attitude driven.
It asked questions about whether you are in different moods at different points in the day.
DUH. For me, that’s a no brainer. I am, after all, cyclothmic. My mood just changed in the time it took to type this sentence.
It’s not like I asked for this.
I did the best I could (until the math word problems, oooh, I suck at math) but I just felt so…dishonest. Because with my paranoia, sometimes I do believe everyone is out to get me, I believe it with every fibre of my being. Then the mood shifts and I know I was being illogical. So how do I answer these questions in an honest fashion when honesty changes according to my mood cycle?
And if they can build wheel chair ramps to accomodate people in wheelchairs, why can’t they adjust these tests and such for people with mental disabilities?
I’ve never asked the world to treat me special because of my issues, but they are what they are and taking them  into consideration isn’t that far fetched. I mean, if the military can dictate a less rigorous requirement for women versus men because our chests give us less upper body strength, then how is it any different for a person with a mental disability to need a different system than one made for the masses without such an issue?
Have I ceased to make sense?

I get sooo far off track, it’s like being lost in the woods.

I think I fucked up at the shop. I’m not sure, but he called me looking for a post it that had his outcall addy on it, and I told him it had to be on the desk somewhere, but no I am thinking maybe I threw it away. And he was already pissed. Geesh. I knew it was starting to go downhill when I stopped enjoying being there and started obsessing mentally with being home in my safe space. Distraction tends to make you screw up. I am distracted, to say the least.
I hate this shit!

Not to mention the sucky factor of everything else, ie, my kid punching me in the face (I kid you not) when we were leaving Mom;s today.

I try so hard.
I fail so badly.
And Nightshade is crawling all over me nose butting me.

I am slipping.
It is what it is.


I am high as a kite, and I never want to come down!!!

It is so much better than the horrible depression that I was experiencing……I am so full of life & energy that it seems surreal. I am getting up with the Sun everyday[I usually do, but now I seem to spring out of bed!] and stretching, then doing my workout, then doing my everyday stuff, like getting our Son ready & then walking him to School…..then when I get back I do other assorted chores when Aurea isn’t here, and then I swim, and do aquatic exercises, and then I float on my back when I am tired, and I meditate like that, in the pool. It is so peaceful, I just close my eyes, and feel the warm Sun on my face & body, and the silence because my ears are submerged. It is almost impossible to Not meditate when like that, peacefully floating around, it’s almost like flying, in a way. I know that probably doesn’t make much sense, but it’s how I feel.

I am still on Meds,  Just Mood Stabilizer and the occasional Valium. I am on a lower doses than I was when I was feeling Depressed, and I am not taking Zyprexa, but I was when I was down, because I was having horrible mixed episodes, and my train of thought was going down the wrong track, I wanted to hurt myself, and that is never a good train to take. So, just a week of Zyprexa and an increase in Mood Stabilizer and I seemed to calm down……then 3 days ago, I woke up and was like “WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!” I sprung up out of bed and just felt something had changed, and it was for the better. I was just feeling really happy, laughing at little silly things and just feeling full of Joy. I wonder if I am going to feel Euphoria……usually for me a high starts with Euphoria, but sometimes I feel up for a week and then I get the Euphoria, which is so indescribable……mere words do not do it justice…….it is a feeling like no other! I feel like I am walking several feet off of the ground, and everything is so bright, and I glow with happiness [or so I have been told].

I have been getting out a bit more, and I want to go to the City sometime this week and do some shopping!!! I will just have a set amount of money, my Husband will give me a wad of cash [Mad Money!!!LOL] and that is all I can spend, so there will be no trouble. I have been taking care with my appearance, I am dressing up and wearing makeup and parfum everyday after working out & swimming…..I will shower and then take the time to try and make myself feel as beautiful on the outside as I feel on the inside, and I must say that it is wonderful. Here in CR it is more old-fashioned as far as Manners go…..Men hold doors open for you, they take your bags when you get into a Taxi, then hold the door open for you, and when you get to your destination, they open the door for you & help you out of  the Taxi, and help you with your bags. A friend of ours here, who happens to be a Man, said that there is just something about me that makes people want to do things for me. I take that as a compliment. Maybe it is because I am polite and smiling when I go out? Or maybe because I am dressed up ? Or maybe they can just feel the happy energy come off of me? Whatever it is, I don’t care because…..


Working on that brain chemistry

Yesterday, for the first time in nearly a year, I went for a run. A very slow one, because the last thing I want to do is to mess up some ligament or joint immediately, giving myself yet another convenient excuse to stop exercising again for months. 

Well, it was wonderful. There really is no other sport which gives me this feeling of deep cerebral relaxation like the slow, rhythmic falling of my feet on the road. I tend to forget it after some time, but as soon as I try it out, it comes back. I really hope I´ll be able to run again at least twice a week now, I am sure this will go a long way towards mental and physical balance.

In other news, I am sleeping quite well, without any kind of medication. Not more than 6 hours a night, but that is enough, really. Physical exercise (walking, cycling and work in my field, other than the running) nearly every day is sure helping a lot for that. 

 As for the emotions, I continue having these moments where tears are threatening to break out in the most inconvenient moments (and for really weird reasons too) but usually taking a deep breath everything goes back to normal. Same as for short feelings of anger, also readily calmed down with regular, deep breathing. The secret lies just in REMEMBERING these deep breaths 😀

I feel generally motivated and full of purpose, but not manic, at least not perceptibly. I do worry a bit more about stuff than while on medication, but on the positive side, I am also more inclined to DO something about the things I am worried about. Not enough, but something. Little steps.  

And I have been writing REGULARLY on that crime novel. Not enormous amounts, but steadily something every day. Way to go 🙂

Neurotically Yours…

This weekend, I want to write some letters. I like writing letters; it is an art I hope never fully dies. However, my poor little brain refuses to until I have the ‘right’ notepad. Which means that unless I remember to filch one from my in-law’s house tonight (they wont’ mind – there are others), I won’t be doing any letters this weekend. So here’s hoping that I remember, ’cause yanno… it would be nice to do something slightly more productive than non-stop Simming. And really, that’s all I want to do. I’ll go drag myself through a bath because my hair demands it, but otherwise… Sim foreeeever. I couldn’t tell you if it’s a slump back towards depression (’cause I’m enjoying myself), but there is definitely more flashes of annoyance and lack of focus. So Iunno… I’ll go clean up, and resume what I enjoy for now. It’s what weekends are for anyways, right?