Daily Archives: January 12, 2016

The Last Week

WEll, it’s the last week that my oldest will be home from school.  She goeas back this Saturday to spend time with friends before classes start. I know already I will miss her and so am guarding against depression and anxiety from that.  So I’m going to have to be careful

My middle daughter marches in the governor’s inaugural parade today. didn’t go because parking would be horrid.  She wasn’t looking forward to it because the parade is in the capital city which is a bit wild. She said they actually had a contingency for if the crowd got so rowdy they started shooting.  So that was not reassuring.

Anyway. I finally heard from my counselor yesterday.  She has been out of town and will call me this afternoon.  So hopefully we can set up a time to talk.  I hope we cn work out a plan to counter this low mood I’ve been having.


Smirkles and Sporklish

Okay, Sporklish is just me being silly, as in “language of all who love sporks over all untensils.”  The “smirkle” actually came from an episode of Madame Secretary, describing someone who was both smiling and smirking. Meh, good a title as any.

It’s 10:30 a.m. Thus far, I have done battle with satan channeling spawn, gotten her to school, the car has behaved perfectly even if the roads are still slick. I went all the way out to the hospital where I had my blood drawn for all my lithium tests, etc the doctor ordered. I got groceries and put them away. I even called my mom to see how she’s feeling since she was at the hospital the other night.

Now can I go back to sleep?


Spook went bonkers on me this morning. One minute she says she wants to leave early so she can eat breakfast at school, then she’s demanding I feed her as well or otherwise she will starve. But instead of eating cereal as I told her, she decided she wanted to wear the very boots I asked her to wear yesterday and she refused and said they didn’t fit right. Except she could only find one boot. Her fit took off fifteen minutes of time I could have been tending to the iced windows on the car. When I finally forced her to sit down and eat cereal she hit the bowl with her spoon so hard cereal flew everywhere.  I told her she’s grounded for a week, no dvd or TV. At which point she started screaming like a banshee and punching herself in the head.

Yeah, THAT kind of morning.

I was exhausted before getting out the door, thanks to her fit.

And snap of fingers, she apologized for her behavior while making eye contact, got her coat on, and she was laughing by the time I dropped her off. Which was made easier because the car didn’t act up once. I guess if I can keep it running for five minutes and let it warm up for ten, it does okay as long as it’s not single digits. Of course, that costs gas money I don’t have but what can I do?

Every fiber of my being wanted to just come back home. Instead I went to get the lab work done and over with. Except they couldn’t find the lab order and it turned out he put it under my nickname instead of my legal name. I couldn’t find my medicare card. Grrrl.

Got food, came home, put it all away. Ready to occupy fort blankie for eternity.

Last night wasn’t much better. She talked on and on and on. I heard “Mommy” and “Mama” sixty seven times between 2:40 p.m. and  7:30 p.m. Yes, I counted. Because we’re the only ones here, she could just ask a question without addressing me. I mean, sixty seven fucking in less than six hours? Who wouldn’t want to rip out their eyeballs? She had another screaming mimi when I asked her to go watch her show for 15 minutes so I could chill out. Then when I dared to take a shower she was at the door demanding to know what I was doing.

I love my child, but 2 mg of Xanax a day simply isn’t enough to cope properly with Uzi child.

Speaking of meds…Got notified by my script company they’ll no longer be covering focalin or restoril. The part where it says “here’s a list of alternatives on our formulary”…BLANK. What the fuck? If you’re gonna cut coverage over cost, you should be required by law to provide alternatives. Ass trash.

Once she finally went to sleep last night, I took up fort blankie residence. Except my brain wouldn’t stop spinning. By the time I hit my wall and took a double dose of melatonin…I woke up after only sixty five minutes of sleep. Nodded off again. Then at 2 a.m. she comes to my bed with “nightmarrers” and won’t go back to sleep. When she did finally go to sleep toward four a.m. I was so disgusted and distracted knowing I had to brave the hospital for the blood draw…I couldn’t get back to sleep, especially with her knee in my back.

I think my self blame and denial have hit a wall. My family has me so brainwashed that there’s not a problem, it’s just me putting my issues on her and wanting to medicate her…No, there is something off about a child who has such rage she hits herself and can’t sleep more than five hours at a time seven nights a week.

I really was hoping it was just my transference, my weak nerves, my impatience…Because the school has no problems with her, nor do my family.

It’s GOT to be me, right?

I am just so exhausted by it all come evening. Even when the donor first walked out and it was just me, barely medicated, taking care of a 2 year old alone…I wasn’t this beaten down. And it’s not all her, but her behavior that stresses me out, not to mention neither of us getting any quality sleep thus being so tired every morning…It’s a big chunk of my exhaustion.

Goatwhore, flustration be thy name.

I hate other drivers. On the way home yesterday I took a side street and this other car was coming toward on the other side of the road. I was in the ditch, driving this big ass tank while they have a Tonka truck, and instead of them moving over for me… I had to eek by them with maybe an inch and a half between them and a parked car. I didn’t breathe the entire ten seconds it took to pass, so terrified of hitting something and messing up mom’s insurance. Of course, Spook just kept yapping the whole time and…wow.  I just hate leaving my bubble, the dish is vile.

Deon, win that lottery and share so I can afford a driver during my worst anxiety, please. Because road rage is gonna be the death of me at some point and I might even play bumper car with some dish dwellers.

Oh, out of curiosity…is anyone else taking Melatonin for sleep? If so, does it give you really fucked up dreams?

Because that double dose last night had me dreaming that I was hanging with Sam and Dean from Supernatural but I was out grocery shopping and then half my finger got cut off and I went to the hospital but they tried to lock me up on a psych hold and Dean cut the doctor to help me escape…

Seriously, if this is what all sleeping aids do…I am doomed to never sleep peacefully again.

If I am hanging out with Sam and Dean, I’m taking that Impala for a spin. If I can’t dream about  the good stuff…get out.


Treatments for Bipolar Disorder Infographic

treatments 2


What is existence if not the absorption of and reaction to the data that the universe presents. (Elementary) Dunno if it’s purely my own perception, but I’ve been feeling quieter and quieter lately. Most of the time I think it’s the clozapine. I’m on 150mg in the morning and 200mg at night; this is the … Continue reading catchup

The First Time I Tried to Change the World

Of all the things I loved about David Bowie, this is my favorite—as Nikola Tesla in The Prestige.  A visionary, an obsessive, a genius.  May his energy travel the stars.

Pressing the Reset Button

A post-shift sky: January, 2016

The comparative clarity of a  post-shift sky: January, 2016

Warnings: Malcolm Tucker has entered the room … oh, & a sweary song about a dinosaur

The reset button is the neutron-flow polar opposite of the big red button which must never be pushed. It’s the one which, in my opinion, is pressed by sleep, and dreaming. The button which keeps us ticking over: which restores us to – in my case, comparative – sanity.

But sleep doesn’t always come easily: not to those with busy minds, or, as in my case, spocked up schedules thanks to working some day, and some night, shifts.

I am a social soul, but sometimes, I need my own space. Especially after a run of night shifts, or when everything gets too much, for whatever reason. In other words, when that button needs resetting.

Here’s a few things which help me reset:

  1. Listening to music via earphones. When I first drafted this, it was Monday 11 January, and we’re all saying hi to David Bowie.
  2. Writing, including but not only blogging.
  3. Mashing tea. Not just dipping a sad tea bag into any old cup, but making a proper Northern ceremony out of it, with a favourite teapot, spoon, mug, and leaves.

    Teapot selfie, Beverley: Sept 2015

    Teapot selfie, Beverley: Sept 2015

  4. Add some biscuits, or toast. If toast, then the toast rack is a must.
  5. I feel odd saying this, but here goes, and deep breath (no, not that Deep Breath): housework. Specifically, washing up, laundry, taking out the rubbish, and/or sorting out the recycling. But never dusting. Dusting is for people who iron.
  6. Sometimes, but by no means always, cooking. As I draft this, I’m eating home made sag paneer. Stinky food rules okay! (Unless you’re standing less than a foot away from me.)
  7. Nature, birds, bird food, feeding of. The local birds are in favour of this form of reset. Making myself a curry, not so much.

    A reasonably chuffed looking blackbird: Doncaster, June 2015

    A reasonably chuffed looking blackbird: Doncaster, June 2015

  8. Sorting through paperwork. An excellent button resetter, at times. Other times, I can’t be arsked.
  9. Not surprisingly, looking at clips of the Good Doctor and friends on YouTube.
  10. Or Malcolm Tucker, who has an uncanny resemblence to the Doctor.
  11. Or Frasier. Or Black Books.
  12. Reading, though mainly as a way of trying to get to sleep following night shift(s).
  13. Mindless conversation with cats, the rat, the birds, and/or myself.
  14. Looking stuff up on Wikipedia. Sad, I know.
  15. Or the Guardian.
  16. Or lurking on The Straight Dope. I haven’t joined, I’m far too tight for that.
  17. Writing lists. I generally find them several months later, with some items still undone.
A beautiful city: Durham, 2015

A beautiful city: Durham, 2015


Greetings and salutations, o best beloved and beleaguered bipolar tribe; now stand still while I dump some links all over you. Parental advisory for foul language later in the post. […]

Together Again

Mom and Dad Together AgainFinally, my parents are back together again since my mother had an acute front left lobe stroke in mid-November. We’ve taken my father to visit my mother in stroke rehab, but tonight they sleep together.  No longer is my father in memory care in one facility and my mother in stroke rehab in another.

Filed under: Dementia, Family, Marriage Tagged: board and care, love, memory care, stroke rehab