Daily Archives: June 20, 2013

Cardiology Encounter

In an hour, I will gather up my things and take a 30-minute walk to the cardiologist’s office for my …

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Nothing to see here, just another hypomanic episode

I spent the evening playing mindless Neopets games. I am not a gamer and there is no insane enthusiasm to the games I play, like when people get so wrapped up in the Wii they hurl the controller into the TV screen., (And FYI, replacement screens for plasma and lcd televisions cost more than the TV did in the first place, so for the love of all that is holy, use a wrist strap with the wii and don’t get mad and throw shoes and remotes at the tv. Or is that just a small town midwest thing?)


Not a gamer, and also not a kid, but Neopet games have entertained me for over 8 years, it’s just keeping my brain busy so I don’t obsess over all the tiny things that make me lose my mind. Plus, Spook likes to sit beside me and watch and learn what all the neopets are called. She wants her own “pitchitter”, which for some reason is what she calls computers. (At first I thought she was saying pinch hitter, and considering the well known drug habits of the people living in my mom’s house, it didn’t seem far fetched, but I am pretty sure this is just a 3 year old making up terminology.) But yeah, word games, color games, a game capturing spiders in webs….Mentally engrossing so the rapid fire thoughts in my head are crowded aside for a bit.

Got her to bed at 10:30. (Maybe I am too lenient, but she did take a nap at mom’s, and I know how much I HATE being forced into bed before my mind is ready to shut down.) I took a much needed shower. Was going to eat, decided I’m not all that hungry and it’s too much trouble to nuke a TV dinner. Yes, I am lazy. When I finished up my game time for the night, I was sooo sleepy and worn out and my eyes were overly tired and I thought it would be nice to shower and lay down, watch some Forensic Files, drift off to sleep.

WRONG, says scumbag brain. “You forgot to take your meds at 6pm, and your Xanax level is too low, so I am going to give you heart palpitations, spinning ocd thoughts, and an all over restlessness that makes you feel like you can’t sit still.”


Especially since I went to the shop today and while I tried to explain myself to R and asked him if he would be amenable to me coming in 3 days a week, and of course, he could call me with part numbers and I can search and order from home. His response, while agreeable, was lackluster and I could just feel my stomach knotting up. I think it would be easier pulling teeth from an alligator than trying to get this man to communicate even on a rudimentary level. It never ceases to amaze me how he has time to spout off on pretty much every line from every show and movie he has ever watched, and lapse into “This reminds me way back when…” stories…But I want five minutes of his time to explain myself and clarify things, and wow, no time, must launch right back into telling his stories, quotes, and busted shit. Hard not to get an inferiority complex when you realize how inconsequential you are to someone.

BUT…I bite my tongue. Because my sarcastic barbs are taken seriously as “digs” when in fact they are in the spirit of the “burns” off That 70′s Show. So now I bite my tongue, and bite it some more, and fight against every fiber of my being in an effort not to offend him. It’s horrible to have conscience, but having too much of one is no better. I am surrounded by people who hurt me, anger me, make me feel shitty, and still, I am the one hearing about my faults and making an effort to quash them.

Yeah, I am the devil.

Uneventful day. His kids “kidnapped” him and took him to lunch, he turns 50 next week. I got a Jim Beam bourbon burger from Hardees. Those things are utopia for my taste buds nomnomnom. Kenny came in later in the day and of course, I wanted to bolt, but again, busy thinking about how that will make others feel. I mean, I’d totally wear a shirt that says “I love to say fuck” and not give a damn who it offends. I have no problem standing up for my own beliefs and principles.

But when it comes to something like angering people or hurting their feelings, well, that’s something I can something about, when there is seemingly so little in my life I can get a grip on. I am trying to be more understanding, more patient, less mouthy, less sarcastic, less annoying, more positive…

And I will soon fade away and there will be nothing left of me. Hopefully, I can find a happy medium. I know I have flaws. I just always believed I had enough good stuff to make it worthwhile to put up with the vortex of sucky things. Over and over, my fellow humans prove me wrong.

Least my mood stayed somewhat stable.

I was home an hour before he called, prattling on about what he wants done tomorrow. I could have done it today had he not been so busy on his damn iphone. I spend soo much time waiting for him to get me the information I need to order parts. It’s not a priority for him because ya know, he’s the important person and I am a minion with all the time in the world to wait, and I can always come back the next day because I have no life.

I sound bitter. It sounds sarcastic in my head. Maybe I’ll get it right someday.

Now…It’s after 2 am and I want to sleep, need to sleep, yet my brain is on hyperdrive. I could do this,I should do that, this needs to be done…I took a second Xanax, hopefully soon it will slow my brain down. The doctor doesn’t believe me when I tell her it actually does slow my brain down so that I am lucid and not overwhelmed. Because ya know, not indivualism allowed in psychiatry, the nuts all fall off the same tree and this should be treated with a template of what works for the masses.

How is it I set out to write a short post and it never ends up being short???? WTF is wrong with me?

Well, my mind is spinning right now, filling me full of energy and thoughts and ideas and I suppose purging it from my head onto this page is a sort of therapy.

I need to get back on the right page, in my life, with my mental states. I spend wayyyy too much time ranting about  R and while he is a huge source of my stress, sometimes I think I am scapegoating him. I honestly don’t know why, I don’t want to do that or be like that. Just sometimes, especially if it’s someone I spend a lot of time with, my nerves just give out and my emotions begin to overwhelm and I guess vilifying the source of the stress is a coping mechanism. Of course, it’s not like he doesn’t deserve a bit of my wrath, considering how far out of his way he goes to make me aware of my spot on the food chain. Or is that a rationalization?

I need to sort it out with sunshine spewer. I have an appt but I have no idea when.

Now. My anxiety is mounting because I am using the laptop on battery power and the battery is down to 83 percent. LOTS of time left, right? Tell it to scumbag brain, who panics over the stupidest things. It’s best to drain the battery then charge it. But practicality and intelligence take a backseat to my panic and neuroses. Besides, last time I ran it on battery and forgot about it, and the damn thing died and refused to boot up properly. THAT panic attack will not be allowed to happen again, even if my power cord and electrical outlet put me in technological bondage for life.

I am insane.

No, if I were, none of this shit would make me feel bad. I am erratic. Most people would be with a damn tornado, hurricane, typhoon, earthquake, and volcano erupting inside them constantly at random times. I used to think I was a force of nature.

With all those bad weather conditions in my brain, maybe I just nature’s bitch.


Back to the attempt at sleep thing. The clock is ticking closer to having to be awake again, and it drives me bonkers when I can’t get to sleep and the clock is just creeping closer to the zero hour. I may Trazadone myself. Hate to, but desperation makes you do stupid shit.

Why couldn’t this be one of the useful hypomanic moods where I actually got stuff accomplished instead of it all swirling in my head telling me I should do but giving me will to do it.

Bipolar disorder is surely the creation of the devil.

One day I am gonna stab that fucker with his own pitchfork.