Daily Archives: July 2, 2013

An insignificant blip on the radar of life

I am neither high nor low today. I wouldn’t even say I am in between.

I am. I exist. There’s no joy, no hope, no purpose. I’m here.

An insignificant blip on the radar screen of life.

Sounds melancholy, eh?

One of the “perks” to my hormonal issues. For a few days a month in addition to pain, moodiness, tears, anger, and such, I also get to feel borderline suicidal about how pointless my existence is and how worthless I am. I am grateful it passes and I know it will pass, so I don’t buy into the distorted thought party line.

R didn’t even call me today. Kind of a relief. Of course, he will say it’s because he knew I didn’t feel good. Which has happened every month for 30 years and yet never once before has he said to stay home or actually told me to leave early. No. The truth he will never admit is that he had Kenny there yesterday and today so there was no need for my gloom and doom to be there. If that sounds paranoid or self pitying, I can assure you it’s not. It’s just a theme in my life. People LOVE me when I am happy fun ball. Manic is even better.

But as a real person, with real problems, and unstable emotions…I’m America’s least wanted.

And it’s fine. I hadn’t planned on going in today, anyway. I’ve spent the day home with my kid, nursing cramps and a blah mood and some free floating anxiety I can’t explain. Maybe it’s from all the “I am so worthless” thoughts. I’m not even bothering trying to counter them with positive things about myself. There is no point until the hormones die down. All I can do is ride it out.

Now my mood IS dropping. But at least my kid is fed and bathed before 6 pm. I’ve done minimal house work, but frankly, if they want to arrest me as unfit for not folding laundry, they can go for it. I could do with three squares a day. (Joke.) Seriously, though. We all have our comfort of what level of ‘untidiness’ we can live with. Clothes that are unfolded but clean I can live with. I just can’t seem to push myself to do it right now.

I look forward to bed.

Speaking of which..I’d just taken 25 mg Trazadone last night to help me sleep through the backache and cramps, so I was awake but kind of fading…And there was a knock at 11pm. I almost had a panic attack at the sight of a uniform cop. He asked me if I’d heard or seen anything because a place nearby was burglarized. I told him aside from screaming kids and fireworks I had not heard a thing.

And weirder still is, it gave me panic issues but I still went down for the count quick, and I didn’t even remember the cop’s visit until like 3 om today. It was almost like blackout. One more reason I rarely take the Trazadone.

And as for Seroquel, I am just now starting to NOT walk into walls so no more of that shit. I tell this doctor I have to be lucid and functional for my kid, and still, she gives me this shit that makes me anything but lucid and functional then wonders why I don’t want to take the stuff she prescribes.

Maybe life would be easier if I were in some sort of stupor and just slept all the time.

But I have been there, done that, and I want more now. I want more than that for my kid.

Even if awake mommy isn’t much fun half the time because she’s so low.

Now…off to fret about this incoming low mood, because it could mean the Cymbalta is not working.

If there is nothing to freak out about…

Scumbag brain will CREATE something.


depression comix #134 (tw: suicide)

Reblogged from depression comix (wp):

Yup, I've seen it too--a severely depressed person suddenly brightens up, because they know how to fix it for good, and a weight is lifted from their shoulders.

Old Friends

Over the years I’ve been guilty of one serious flaw regarding friends – I throw them away.  In my life I’ve lived in over a dozen cities in seven states and in each and every one of them I made wonderful friends who I thought would be with me for the rest of my life.  I’m sad to say that is not true.  I’m not good of keeping them once I move on.  I don’t stay in touch.  There have been a few times that I would call now and again, but each time I’d call there was less to say and longer uncomfortable silence.

It’s not something I dwell on, typically, but yesterday I was feeling a little nostalgic.  I randomly picked names of old friends and searched to see if they were on Facebook.  I found many of them.  I would look at the pictures they’d posted.  I’d see pictures of their children who I never met.  I’d see them with other long time friends that I thought I’d keep in touch with forever.  Group photos of outings where I should be in the picture, but was never asked to come along.  It’s not their fault I wasn’t asked.  It was the fault of the numerous times I’d been asked to join them on excursions and I always turned them down.  Turn them down enough and eventually they stop asking.

There are many reasons why I didn’t stay in touch, one of them is lack of money.  I’ve always been terrible with money.  It never mattered how much I made, it was never enough.  I have always lived paycheck to paycheck and it scares me that it’s possible that I always will.  Living on the west coast and traveling to see friends on the east coast is too costly for me.  Today I can’t travel because of my daughter.  She lives in the Midwest and every dollar I spend on vacations is one dollar less I have to see her.  I struggle each year to visit her more often.

Another reason I’ve lost touch is due to my alcoholism.  When I was in the worst and final stages I didn’t care about anyone.  I did happen to go back east during that time  because my father was dying.  I went to one of my old friends homes and asked if I could borrow money.  I hadn’t seen or talked with him in years and when I finally do show up I ask for money.  I can’t remember how much.  It was either $200 or $2000.  I was a blubbering mess because I had a relationship that ended very badly – violent, actually.  In addition I had not had any drugs or alcohol in awhile and my brain was having a hard time dealing with reality.  Fortunately I was not given the loan.

Now I’ll play psychologist.  Another reason I’ve lost touch with others is due to emotional reasons.  It’s easier for me to forget and move on, than to deal with the pain of the loss.  Now, I have no idea if this is true or not, but there has to be some other reason and that’s the best I can come up with.  It makes me feel both sad and guilty to have pushed my old friends away.  My pdoc keeps telling me that I need to move on from the old Bradley.  Old Bradley was undiagnosed with bipolar and did things that only old Bradley would do .  New Bradley is being treated and would not do the many things that Old Bradley did.  I don’t know if that is true.  I hope it is.  I have too many good friends today that I’d hate to lose touch when the time comes to move again.


There comes a time in just about everyone’s life, and yea I mean everyone, where we have had enough.  Enough being mistreated, abused, enough conceding our worth, of being asked […]