Daily Archives: September 28, 2016

You Only Need The Light

Monday was my wife’s first day back to work since the birth of my son. So Monday was also my first day driving both kids home from my parent’s house. And for whatever reason, very surprisingly, the drive home was rather emotional for me. Maybe it was the realization that this is the last one. […]


My doctor asks me every time I go how my anxiety has been. I always tell him good because I feel fine And I have never really been able to figure out what anxiety actually is. Well sometime in the last couple weeks it hit me, I think, like a board hit to my head. Those days at work when I actually have to say, ” I need out of here NOW or it isn’t going to be good.” Or when I resort to sitting in my car in our driveway for the 5 minutes of peace I need in my day. Most of the time I really do handle anxiety pretty well. It has been years since I have had a panic attack, and even more years since I had a really bad one. 

But it’s a scary feeling when you can almost feel yourself spinning out of control and you know there is no way to stop it. It just has to work itself out and always gets better with time. For the most part my anxiety is something that am able to deal with. I wonder about what will happen when major events or deaths happen in my life. I hope I can have normal breakdowns and then move on but I have already started preparing myself for the fact that I may have to take stronger meds. At least for a little while. 

I find that when I make sure to take care of myself and not push myself to be too busy I do a lot better. It would be nice to be able to ignore it but usually that just makes things worse. So, I try to deal with things one thing and one day at a time. I am starting to notice the feeling earlier and earlier though. 

I have gotten pretty good at seeing the signs and trying to catch myself if I can so that I don’t end up with a complete meltdown or being extremely hateful to the people around me. My poor family probably suffers the most and in ways I don’t even realize. But I do see it and I do try to get myself out of it. It has led me to see many of the things in my life in a different level. I never meant to be hateful or ugly to people. Apparently that truly is just part of the way my brain works. I know that I hurt people and as I look back I can see how it shouldn’t be that way. I shouldn’t have said and done the things I did. But I also know that in my mind I truly couldn’t see the difference. 

Once again I have been interrupted 10 times. So I will end here and hope to finish this in the near future. I have found if I don’t publish my partial posts I may never actually publish to my page  

Be blessed y’all!! And go VOTE!!

Amazing! My Son Really is a Lawyer!

Doesn’t have the Bar results yet. 

A very happy and amazing moment.😊 My husband called my son, the young, new lawyer, for advice on a complex issue having to do with done business of our biotechnology company. To hear my son give him advice and his opinions to his dad was quite amazing. This son of mine who only graduated in late May, and just found his first job last week, is a bona fide lawyer. He said things like “… the argument pursuant to title 12 of the document…” To my husband and explained the whole issue to him and came up with a way to resolve the issue! I am floored 😀! My son is really a lawyer! He has the language, the ideas, even the brain of a lawyer! Amazing! May he be successful and loved and happy and healthy in this wonderful life he is beginning. 


My grandfather was a barrister and then a Magistrate in India during Queen Victirias reign and he was a great legal mind and had compassion and live for both Muslims and Hindus. He was an extraordinary man and my son may be well channeling him! Life: amazing, unexpected, absolutely sublime and wondrous!

My Bipolar Grab Bag

I keep ahandy list where I write blog ideas as they come to me. I Iog nearly every idea no matter how silly it may sound. Some ideas are ones I like, but when I attempt to write them, I find they just don’t have enough weight for a full blog post. So, today I decided to write some of them…

The post My Bipolar Grab Bag appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.

Chat Room: Feedback Wanted

Okay, so first off…mental status update: I actually stayed up until almost midnight last night. Because the melatonin was taking forever to kick in. Irritating laying there tossing and turning while scumbag brain churns and keeps you awake in spite of using every relaxation technique the counselors ever forcefed. Then when I started to drift off, it felt like falling down a black hole, so I’d jolt awake in terror. Yeah, rough night. Rougher morning inasmuch as I had a bitch of a time dragging my butt out of bed and getting my kid’s lunch ready, making sure she was clothed and delivered to school. This sudden onset of summer to fall transition and the cold is kicking my ass. But I am out of bed and doing fuck all cos well, I did my two days in the dish and I EARNED a lazy respite. Besides, it’s a school improvement day so the spawn will get out two hours earlier than usual. YAY.

Now…This is where I want, NEED, your input, anyone who reads this blog, sporadically or regularly. A few of us Volatile Femmes seem keen on the idea of a chat room for mental health support. And also to blow off steam, be it talking about movies or music or whatnot.

Be honest. TALK TO ME, my Morgueticians. Would anyone else be interested in a safe place to simply type and hang out even if we’re having a quiet time and say little?

I know chat rooms are so yesterday and everyone’s all obsessed with Fuckfacebook and Twitter and such BUT…Some of us have the attention span of gnats at times and other times, we are chatterbugs. Some of us can’t handle an open phone line or never ending text alerts due to noise sensitivity.

A safe space, a quiet space where we can’t even hear each other type…I find this appealing. It would NOT be standard issue “we’re not professionals but you can talk to us only about mental stuff” chat. It would be invite only (you’d submit your email addy for an invite and you can create a throwaway if you don’t want to use your real email) so we could control the trolls, so to speak. Word of mouth from all of us could increase interest and invites. We could have our own community, not just on wordpress, but in a safe space.

I’m no expert on starting these things. I’m an idea person. Occasionally my gnat attention span can follow through. I just know how useful chat was in the past for me during rough patches, or even manic patches or stable patches. I was even a moderator of one chat room for several years. (How I loved using my hammer to kick out the trolls!)

I want eclectic. I want empathy, kindness. I want humor when we have it.

I would also love to name the room in honor of our recently departed friend, Blahpolar. Her blog featured a “freshly depressed” graphic and I think that would be an AWESOME name for a chat room. In her honor, but also in honor of wordpress offering a way for us all to come together via blogs. It’s not promoting depression, but instead offering a tongue in cheek way of viewing this crap.

So…Show of hands. Or comments since I can’t see your hands. Would anyone else be interested in this sort of thing? Even if you just click like or peruse…FEEDBACK, PLEASE.

Because it’s not just for you as an individual. There are times you will encounter someone who pulls you  back from the brink.

Other times…YOU will pull someone else back from that bring. And let me tell you…THAT is an amazing feeling, helping someone who might otherwise have been lost to the symptoms of whatever mental ailment haunts them. It works both ways. It helps us, it helps others, and in doing so…we might even feel a release of a good brain chemicals without taking a single pill.

So what do you say, people? Repost this, share it, let me hear what the tribe thinks. This room would be all inclusive of all mental illnesses. No one excluded, not a coffee clatch of bipolar only.

Just…The tribe and new members to the tribe. Surviving. Together.

Now comment, yay, nay, fuck you Morgue…Or I’m gonna have to roast a pegacorn on a spit.

Do it to save the pegacorn, PLEASE. They are, after all, an endangered mythical species.

Happy Anniversary to KittOMalley.com

I’ve been blogging for three years! Yay! Hope to do more writing. Hands full this week caring for my son.  He’s going through a rough patch. His migraine medication (anti-seizure medication topiramate aka Topamax) interferes with his memory and cognition…


img_0249Just tired, exhausted. My son has the flu and i’ve been staying with him, maybe I am also coming down with it.

Some stories keep coming to my mind, the story of a friend who followed her husband to Europe, and then had to move back with her children under bad circumstances, involving the betrayal of his marriage vows. But she persevered and is now living with her young children, on her own terms.

Another friend, whose husband, under the effect of substances, becomes abusive, becomes a monster. She is trying to help him get clean and reclaim himself and their life together. She has children as well, and they have suffered because of the effects of substance abuse. I can only wish them well, and send them all my support and love.

Another friend, she has been rejected by her partner. Her partner has disappeared into a cocoon of silence and she doesn’t even know what the problem is. She talked to me and we had a guessing marathon based on past events. But guessing marathons are about as useful as melted ice when you’d like a cool drink.

All of these friends of mine, and mostly all of us, would benefit so much from communication. What if in the case of my first friend, her husband had said he wanted to get a divorce and not dragged her to Europe, uprooting her life? Things would have been so much better for her and her children.

In the case of my second friend, communication during the early phases of substance abuse may have helped them nip the problem in the bud. This is a tough one, because people don’t admit they have a substance abuse problem to themselves, let alone anyone else.

My third friend is agonizing over what is wrong, she can make guesses, but she doesn’t know why her partner has left her. Not knowing is much worse than being able to say why. If he would tell her what is wrong, perhaps they would have a chance at correcting it. But he says nothing, refuses to communicate with her.

These stories of my three good friends, these strong, amazing women, who have gone through so much in their lives, they still continue to battle for themselves, their children and even their partners if they would let them.

Life can be very difficult at times. What do you do? Give up? Fight? Persevere? Try. We try.


Tough One

Spent the morning in a state of nauseous inertia. I ate and still, felt nauseous. Guess what? Pristiq can cause nausea. So while I lost 90% of that on the extended release lithium, then phased off the lithium…I have a new med to make me queasy. YAY. Note sarcasm. I hadn’t planned on going out, but R started blowing up my phone and guilting me so I took my nausea to his doorstep, so to speak. Not that he notices or cares, it’s all about him and his precious parts and errands. Though for a couple of hours of braving nerve wracking traffic and drive thru lines…he bought me a phone card so I’d have talk time. Serves him right, considering he’s the one always wasting what little talk time I can even afford.

The anxiety was just crippling today, especially out in the dish. I had a mega panic attack in traffic and kept repeating “you are fine, you are fine, you are fine” but I was freaking out. My brain isn’t cooperating with me and I get terrified my foot will hit the brake instead of the gas or vice versa. Or that I will miss seeing an oncoming car at intersections. I can handle side streets with minimal panic but in traffic…NOPE. Coming undone.

When I was finally able to pick up my kid and come home to safe space…BAM. Seven kids in my yard, shrieking and bickering. Bloody hell! But since we had to leave in an hour and a half, I let them be. And took a Xanax.

The eye doctor appointment weirded me out a little. My God, they took weight, blood pressure, height, they were so thorough I half expected them to ask for a urine sample. Just for a pair of fucking glasses. THEN the tech, optician, and eye doctor all piled into a room for this one machine we were told was optional because insurance doesn’t cover it unless *something* is found on the other exams…There I was, a nervous wreck that they saw something fatal in my kid’s eyes or my eyes, and panic was rising, and I asked what was going on and told them I was starting to panic. They explained the light bulb went out on the same machine in another room and they had no spare so they only had that one to use. They still didn’t explain why Spook and I suddenly qualified for this special test…UGH.

As it happens…her eye is still turning inward and tracking wrong so…my 7  year old is getting bifocals. Poor kid. I got them two years ago and kept running the car up on curbs cos the line was so distracting and I switched back to my old single vision glasses.

Of course, I didn’t mention that to the eye doc. He gave me the option of going single vision and delaying bifocals a couple of years and let me tell you…I jumped on that leg and humped it. Maybe bifocals wouldn’t be so bad if they’re no line, but of course, our insurance doesn’t pay for that. Also, I don’t think that last doctor got the line in the right place. Driving on curbs is not my idea of improvement in vision after wearing them for two months.

Spook picked out blue frames. I chose rose gold. Yes, SASS. Morgue is getting pink-ish glasses. I liked the lens shape.

No sooner than we got home, it was getting dark out. The devil girls knocked wanting her to play. Then as I tried to get her into the shower, R called and said he needed a jump for his car. So off we went to do that.

I’m tapped out. I managed a shower after two days, woo hoo! I could probably go a week without showering but by day two, the hair NEEDS washed desperately. EWW. How messed up is that?

I am hoping tomorrow I can just vegetate once the spawn is at school. Hope R doesn’t need anything. Because I NEED to recover. Today was rough.

I don’t think it’s because “Xanax isn’t the one” for me. It’s always been the one for me. It mostly controls the panic attacks (the mega embarrassing big ones, anyway). But at this lower dose, it’s just not handling the generalized anxiety brought on my the shit storm of my life. I tried Ativan, Buspar, Seroquel (yes, for anxiety, that doctor was a fucking moron), Clownapin, er, Klonopin…NONE of them did a damned thing. So I don’t believe I need a new anti anxiety med. I just need to return to my former higher dose that actually worked well. Unfortunately, the new psych regime frowns upon highering Xanax doses in this establishment. (Sorry, channeling the e-trade baby there.)

When I finally see the doc, I am bringing it up. Of all that they have tried in my years there, NONE of them ever put me back at the most therapeutic dose of Xanax, the dose that got me through many years of crippling panic and anxiety fairly well. Worth a shot. IF he’s in the mood to listen the day I see him.

And that concludes my rant. I’m gonna watch another episode of Perception and go to Fort Blankie.

I am waving the white flag on this day.


Not sure where it comes from but it is certainly here. I guess I’m only allowed an OK day once in a while. Today I’ve cried over the world, the loss of my dog Ren and a few music videos that show what a sad state the world is in. I’m so sad about everything.

I suppose I should be glad that I just am feeling.

I gotta admit though I am looking forward to getting my weed back. I believe it’s been over a month or close to a month now. I’m going to be very high the day I get my weed. Very high.