Daily Archives: December 25, 2014

how to waste your time and mind

The mad have become sadder, and however important the tale they have to tell, they soon cease trying. The tail and the tale get curled within them like an embryo.
Jane Gardam

Extreme trigger warnings for sappy music. If that offends you, here’s Gay Pirates (Cosmo Jarvis). Post starts off morose, gets better later.

raindrops keep fallin’ on my head (bj thomas) (no-one cares who sang it, it’s from butch cassidy & the sundance kid)

Greetings & Flatulations:

How are you? Up to shit. Not in a terminal cancer way, or anything like it, but bad nonetheless. And I have this weird rash.
Are you ok? No. Not even remotely. I don’t actually remember the last time I felt ok, let alone have any faith in experiencing it in future.
You’re ok, aren’t you? No … no I’m really not. I love it that you care enough to want me to be ok, but I honestly don’t know how to get there.
How are you? [Ridiculously long silence]

It wasn’t a trick question, you know … I know, I know, I’m so sorry, I truly am. I didn’t realise I’d said any of that aloud.

top of the world – the carpenters

How are you? I don’t know.
How are you? Fine, you?

You are not special. You’re not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club (16secs)
Fight Club in 15 minutes


somethin’ stupid – robbie williams & nicole kidman (orig frank sinatra snr)

As clusterfucked as my mind may be, I don’t spend my entire life morbing. This blog is where I empty my head of misery when I need it. And obviously then I nip off to whip up a blancmange and run up some curtains. (I’ve never even met a blancmange and I don’t run unless there are wolves chasing me.)

good morning starshine – hair OST

I’m tired of sappy music now, but playing it made me lol a bit. Need a change of pace?

easy like sunday morning – faith no more
things have changed – bob dylan
wall of death – r.e.m. (orig richard & linda thompson)
something in the way – nirvana (unplugged)

What I read about when I’m not reading about bipolar:

(article) 10 songs inspired by river phoenix (rest in piece, beautiful boy)
general 2015 wiki – colour me stoopid, but I had no idea there were so many completely different calendars.
people looking at art – photographic series (if the format had been square, you’d think ‘amateur instagram’ – as is too often the case, this is ‘art’ that relies heavily on its own artist statement and interpretation).
sims 4 – how evil can you be? I don’t play sims, I’ve never managed for longer than 10mins actually, but people doing experiments and writing about the game fascinate me. Things like the homeless sims family in sims 3. Quite tricky to find stuff that is safely between cruel and boring though. Oh humanity.

When did you last read a poem that you didn’t write yourself? It’s time. From the man who wrote this:

The past is too tight. The Academy and Pushkin are less intelligible than hieroglyphics.
Throw Pushkin, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, etc., etc. overboard from the Ship of Modernity.

To his own beloved self, the author dedicates these lines
Vladimir Mayakovsky

Some words.
Heavy as a blow.
“Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s- to God what is God’s.”
And one
such as I,
where shall I squeeze in?
Where is my den?

If only I were
as the great Pacific –
I’d stand up on the waves’ tiptoes
and caress the moon with my tides.
Where am I to find a beloved
equal to myself?
Such a woman has no place in the tiny heavens!

If only I were poor!
As a billionaire!
What’s money to the soul?
There’s an insatiable thief in mine.
All the gold in California couldn’t feed
the unbridled horde of my desires.

If I could only be as tongue-tied
as Dante
or Petrarch!
Turn my soul’s fire on one woman!
Make it smolder out in verse!
My words
and my love-
are a triumphal arch:
the beloveds of all ages
would pass through it gloriously,
without a trace.

If only I were
as thunder-
I would whimper
and, trembling, embrace earth’s decrepit cloister.
If I outroar in an enormous voice
with all the power of thunder-
comets will wring their burning hands,
and fling themselves down in despair.

I would crack open nights with my eye’s ray,
if only I were
dim as the sun!
I so need
to slake with my shining
the sunken bosom of the earth!

I will pass by,
dragging my giant-love.
In what
feverish night,
by what Goliaths was I conceived-
so big
and so useless?



This is ME.

Minus the alcohol because yeah, I’m broke. Hellidays. No wonder the suicide rate goes up every year at this time. Family or no family, it’s just a really depressing time of year for some of us. Less loneliness and more about stress and the futility of it all.
Oh, yes, I am my bright ray of sunshine self today.
Black sunshine. With stabby sharp spokes.

In all fairness, I have much to be grateful for. It wasn’t a bad Christmas. We had good good, there were gifts, no family drama.
But like last year on Christmas Eve, I got my drama, anxiety, and frustration in one fell swoop. Car trouble. Simple four mile trip to take my mom out for a sonogram. Bam. Started goes out. Cold rainy day. I wore my thinnest clothes, no gloves or hat. And had to call my dad for help, which is as much fun as a root canal stone cold unmedicated.
This on top of my mom telling me she has to have a biopsy because there is concern about the lump.
Merry fuckin’ Christmas. Five hours freezing in a parking lot getting snarked at by my dad sweating getting everything done in time for the shindig.
My dad was rocking the asshole thing more than usual.
At one point, stepmonster screamed at him, ‘Would you get off her ass, you’re like a diaper!”
Good to have an ally. I mean, she was the one on the cold wet ground banging her knuckles working on the car not bitching a bit…and he was being a douche.
Family. One of those loaded words that can be good or bad.

Needless to say…all got done. No more drama. Car running again. Happy toy laden child. I even got some goodies. Which is mind blowing because my mom spends all the money on my sister’s bum friends and one meal and never listens to what I want.
Miracles do happen.

Unfortunately…it left me tapped out. Like being overdrawn on a bank account. I’ve got no balance. I am actually in the negatives. I went to sleep early. I eventually snapped awake long enough at 5 a.m. to play Lazy Santa. (recycled giftbags as opposed to wrapping it all.) By the time she got up and was running riot on her loot…I could barely lift my head off the pillow. And my sister got me this super soft (if obnoxiously bright pink leopard print blanket) that I didn’t want to leave. But I was awake, just unnmoving. “Oh, look what Santa brought you, how cool is that..Here, bring it to mom, I’ll rip it open…”

Tapped. Out.

The house is disgusting. Though the biggest issue is three vacuums, all with busted belts, so vacuuming hasn’t happened in two weeks and cat hair and tinsel are everywhere. The rest, I don’t care about. The floor…is actually disturbing me.
My horrorscope said it’s a day for rest and play, not work.
I don’t have the energy to do either. Thus far I’ve spent the morning watching crime documentaries, noshing on leftovers, and trying to get some motivation to function minimally. Shower, cat boxes, take out all the wrapping and packaging.
It’s not happening.
And I doubt the world will implode if I procrastinate further and just have a vegetable day.
On the plus side, I have a break as dad took my kid down to his family faction. I don’t attend anymore. Grandma has Alzheimers, my uncle’s new wife is an elitist snob, his autistic son gets violent…Two hours down there and I’d be home drinking bleach. And to my chagrin, it’s less about that whole mess than it is returning to the scene of the crime. That place where I grew up and went to school and was terrorized so mercilessly. I’m no longer the scared girl they terrorized, we’ve all grown up, moved on.
It’s an imprint on my psyche and soul, though, and given the chance to opt out…I take it. Just thinking about it is literally making me break out in itchy hives.
I’ve often wondered why post traumatic stress syndrome is relegate exclusively for war and sexual abuse survivors. Pain is pain, and being scarred by that pain is the same.
That whole period of my life where I was ostracized, tormented, and made to believe I am ugly, weird, and unworthy of drawing breath…
That was traumatic. The fact thinking about it can make me break out in hives is proof.
Does it make me weak?
I don’t think so. I survived it, I moved on.
But much like a leg injury that heals and yet still aches during certain seasons…Psychological pain isn’t any different.

Moving on…

I’m so worn down I haven’t even had the strength to open up my gifts. You open the fifteenth gift for a kid, you don’t want to face more packaging.
And I know I sound like a whiner.
But this is where my biggest struggles have always been. I can function semi normally when forced to…But the very things that energize others, socializing, activities, etc…Those are the things that deplete me and leave me needing recharged.
The battery’s drained, it’s gonna take some time to charge back up.

For now…I will just be grateful the stress is over, all worked out well, and 2015 is around the corner. Anything is possible. My mom’s biopsy may turn out to be nothing. Getting my home back all to myself (and my kid and cats) will be freeing. Saying goodbye to people I’ve outgrown for whatever reason, moving on with what I know is right for me without regard to social pressures to do the opposite…
Clean slate. Scary but also, a welcome change.
It’s been a tough year.

Not without highlights but tough nonetheless.

I am proud of myself. I do have my grinch on literally, my grinch t-shirt, and I feel a little surly…But in light of all that was handed to me at a time when I am usually falling apart…I could have disintegrated.
I didn’t.
I have persevered.
So in true Morgueticia fashion, I bid you…

Scary Cryptmas to all, and to all a good fright.

Christmas Day

Christmas Stocking and Contents

So here I am on Christmas Day, at a loss for words. Recently I’ve been posting simple holiday sentiments on graphic images and content I’ve copied and pasted from year-end emails sent to me from NAMI and NIMH, or – in the case of To Conform or Not to Conform – content I wrote and posted earlier. Not much to share in terms of original content. Hopefully, I’ll come up with some original content soon, and I’ll repost some worthwhile old stuff.

Somewhat overwhelmed and physically exhausted. We’ve fought a stomach bug for far too long. Just as you think you are better, it comes back and hits you down. In any case, Santa stuffed the adults’ stockings with some yummy gourmet goodies that he must have purchased from Cost Plus World Market. I’ve already eaten my chocolate bar from the stocking. Doesn’t matter how sick I feel, I’ll inhale chocolate, even as I grow sicker and sicker as I consume it. Yes, I’m a chocoholic.

Filed under: Family, Health, Mental Health, NAMI, NIMH, Writing Tagged: Christmas, Christmas Day, holiday sentiments

Joy to the World


Filed under: About God Tagged: Joy, Seasons Greetings

Forget the three wise men: here’s to my three wise women……

It’s Christmas eve. I’m sitting alone in my sitting room, staring at the fire as it crackles and flames up the chimney. A lot of the work for tomorrow is now done; I’ve cooked and then baked the ham and … Continue reading

Bipolar Memes

Too many of the bipolar memes you get if you search, are thoughtlessly offensive. I thought I’d give polar bears some time off and make some new ones. Help yourself if you like any of them. Bipolar memes should be made by bipolar people.


















Merry Christmas!

nativityHere it is a few hours from Christmas and you might think “What the heck is she doing writing a blog entry?” But I just felt like it. I think of you guys a lot and try to see my world through yours. So before the chaos of tomorrow leaps into focus, I wanted to share what I’ve been up to.

This morning, Christmas Eve, I woke and felt like giving up. I had set a goal of making chili and cornbread for our Christmas Eve supper, so I needed to get it going. I told my husband I needed some moral support. He went with me down in the kitchen and hung around while I cooked. I got it done.

We were picking up some pies from a local restaurant for Christmas dinner so we decided we may as well have lunch there. We invited my bipolar friend to join us. Two of the kids went along. Of course, this meant a shower for me. And it was cold. Not the water, but the bathroom. We live in a very hot climate and for some reason our bed and bath is always cold. In the summer this is an incredible blessing, but in the winter it’s a freeze-a-thon. So I hopped in and out as fast as I could. I put on a little make up and actually looked pretty decent.

Then the bad part started. We went to see my mom. She is in hospice and has dementia and is generally a pain in the ass. (She’s a whole other entry.) I plop down by her in her bed and hand her her Christmas presents. She says “thanks” and then proceeds to ask my husband where I am.

My mom’s been in hospice two years. She has lung cancer, but shows no signs of decline. The only thing that gets her is pneumonia. When she catches that, things look pretty grim. But she always bounces back. I know I will go to hell for saying this, but she has outstayed her welcome.

So we do a couple more errands and get back to the house. I take my two Klonopin as prescribed at noon. I, of course, get zonked out and fall asleep. So I woke briefly and told everyone to eat without me and I would make it up for church.

So I sleep for a couple of hours and get up for church. I love my church. It is little…only about 150-200 members. And it is a beautiful building. Inside the sanctuary tonight were twinkling wreaths, poinsettia wreaths, plenty of poinsettia plants, a huge gold tree, lit greenery along the rails, and a gorgeous large advent wreath. Coming into the church, they had the luminarias all set up. It was pretty special. And I had my “three little atheists” along.

My kids were raised in the church but it wasn’t forced down their throats. But as they got into high school, it was a big battle to get them to go. Then I dropped out for years because of my bipolar. So my kids all decided they were all kinds of various religions…anything but Christians. But I do get them to church twice a year: Christmas Eve and Easter. They were pretty cute sitting in the pews. Singing along with the familiar Christmas hymns. Reading the prayers. Taking communion! And lighting the candles at the end while we all sang “Silent Night”. My youngest made a few faces, but he did a good job. He played with his candle just like a toddler even though he is twenty years old.

Well, we made it home from church after stopping at a neighborhood close by to see some ridiculous light displays. (I’m not a big light display person. I don’t like inflatable stuff.) I put the chili away. We got the presents out from the guest room closet where they had all been hidden and put them around the tree. It looks nice.

Okay, so here is a weird thing. My husband collects rocks as sort of a light hobby. So I get a text from a friend saying “Does your husband have any extra amethysts?” It turned out she needs one for her grandson as a present. Mind you, this is Christmas Eve. So she is coming over tomorrow to pick it up. Strange, huh?

I’m planning on sleeping in tomorrow. Then just sitting in my pajamas while everyone opens gifts. This will include lots of coffee. After the clean up (and the amethyst pick up) I’ll start setting the table. All I am doing is heating ham and peas. And maybe rolls. The rest is store bought or being brought. I’ve done my duty this year as cook.

I’ve got a couple more entries in mind coming up. One is on my brother who just got out of prison. That could be a ten parter, but I’ll get it down to one. I also want to do something where I sum up my year and talk about goals for next year. I just HAVE to get off of the couch and live more in recovery this year.

I hope you enjoy my little picture of the nativity up above. If you are a believer, it is quite a story. There’s no way I would have quietly given birth in a manger. I would have been screaming for my epidural.

I know Christmas is lonely for some of you because you are alone and for others because you are not understood. I hope the time passes in a peaceful way and you can get back to a good life and if you are struggling, to a life in a stage of recovery.



Peace to All

Peace to All

Filed under: About God Tagged: peace, Peace to All, Seasons Greetings