Daily Archives: August 2, 2017

Interview with HUSTLER!

Well, what did I tell you?  I heard from Hustler.  I have a phone interview on Friday.  It’s just my luck!  I swear . . . if I have to go work at the cock and balls shop, I will.  I need a job, dammit!  I mean, desktop support is desktop support, wherever you go.  Granted, there may be porn video feeds playing here & there, but what’s a little porn?  Morally, I have nothing against porn.  I just hope it wouldn’t be a sexually charged environment.  That’s the question in my mind.  Would it be a bunch of horny inappropriate guys working there?  Or just professionals doing their job?  I guess I can try to work that question into the interview.

So…in other news, I saw the dickhead Dr. Drugs and I won the battle to increase my Wellbutrin from next to nothing to more than nothing.  My mood is still low and I am having suicidal ideation, but that’s not just the antidepressant.  I am deeply depressed about the state of my job hunt and the lack of opportunity my two new certifications are affording me, i.e. no one seems to give a shit that I have these two certifications.  It seems like I’m going to be stuck doing what I’ve always done, which is desktop support, and that makes me very discouraged.  I’m trying to lecture myself, like, it’s a win that someone with my level of Disability can work at all (can I work?), but so far my attitude has not changed.  I am praying to whoever might be out there for willingness.

I just got back from another overnight of camping which was nice.  The mountains give me a nice respite from my fears and stresses.  The letdown when I get home is pretty heavy but it’s still good to get away.  Also, my brother and his wife & three boys are in town (they went camping too) and they are a joy.  Nothing like a three year old sticking his butt out at you and saying “Smell my toots” to lift that mood.  Of course I stuck my butt out at him and said “Smell my toots” which he did and thought that was ridiculously funny.  So now we are the best of friends.  Bonding over farts is such a boy thing.  They are supposed to come by and see the birds so I cleaned up the apartment, that makes things a bit more bearable in the grand scheme of things.  The dust level was at a mach-9 or so, so it’s good to have a reason to clean the dirt from my environment once in a great while.

Well I guess I better get back to the goddamn job search.  One interview won’t really cut it, now will it?  Hope all is well in your world.  Peach out!

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar and Stress, Bipolar and Work, Bipolar Disorder, Mental Illness, Psychology, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Bipolar Disorder, Blogging, Depression, Disability, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader

Savage Wednesday

Why savage? Had a neighbor kid knocking on my door at 7:50 a.m. wanting to play with Spook. That kid was here yesterday at 9:15 a.m. and I thought, are these parents savages, letting these kids run from morning til well after dark? I swear I don’t have a stick in my ass, I am not *that* uptight, proper proper parent. Just…decorum. Surely manners aren’t a thing of the past? Am I really so old I’ve acquired a stick up my ass? Just..MANNERS. You don’t come knocking before ten a.m., you don’t come knocking after dark. Just the other day one of those kids was out at 9:30 at night wanting Spook to play. And of course, with my follower mentality child, she plays the “other kids get to” card constantly and nothing I say to these kids or their parents makes a difference. My idget dad says, “Get out of the trailer park”, as if that solves all. Because only shitty parents and kids live in a trailer park? What are you saying about me and your granddaughter here, daddy dearest? Idget.

I found myself in a slump last night after a day of refererring my kid’s drama with her ‘friends’, always crying about them being rude but going back for more. She complains about being bullied then seeks out the very kids ‘bullying her’. Talk about unclear on a concept. Personally, back when I was actually being bullied and spit on, I went out of my way to avoid those assholes, not seek them out for more abuse. Then again, I was never a follower and I was content to do my own thing alone. My kid…Nope. Last night I just kinda snapped and found myself raising my voice because she simply would not listen, she kept screaming at me for making her come in at 7:45 p.m., then she waited til I was in the shower and demanded to be fed, then I told her to get in the shower cos she was filthy and that instigated another scene (bathing this child has been a fight from the word go)…I realized I’d been 12 hours without a Xanax, that is usually when I start snapping and letting her get to me, so I took my night dose and chilled.

Then came the guilt for raising my voice (yeah, cos that’s absolutely the worst a parent can do) and compounding it was having watched Terminator 2 over the weekend and hearing Linda Hamilton’s character talk about how the Terminator would never shout at her son…Geeze, I’m worse than a killing machine??? That is how scumbag brain operates, though, magnifying every graceless parental moment I have yet giving me zero credit when I get it right. That’s what societal programming does, it makes you feel like shit for mistakes, has zero forgiveness, and gives zero credit.

So…After last night’s slump, I went to bed before ten p.m. and thought between Xanax and melatonin,it’d keep me down. Ha. I woke four times, every time wondering if my money would come through so I could get some smokes. (Yeah, yeah, fucked up priorities, shitty mom) but also nagging was not having a phone. For MY convenience, mind you, not anyone else’s. Having a phone is pretty important when you have a child, especially with school starting. And since Safelink replaced my old phones twice they wouldn’t replace another (only one of those was my fault, my mom broke the other one when I loaned it to her and she jammed the charger in wrong and broke the port) so I had to cough up the money…It weighs heavy. I woke again at six and held my breath while checking my balance on line. And Yay. Money. I was gonna go back to sleep but scumbag brain was having none of it. Woke my kid at six thirty and out we went.

Gas in the car, breakfast for her, smokes for me, and a trip to Hell-Mart. I resentfully bought vaccum belts and bags and the pricey herbal lice treatment because damn it, if she’s gonna be at that pony party this weekend I wanna make sure I have covered all my bases and this stuff kills lice and eggs so all I have to do is comb her out…Then came the pain of a new phone (thirty bucks is hardly an iphone but, still, money I don’t have to spare) and I got her a few birthday thingies she picked out plus two new outfits for school…For once I didn’t have a meltdown at Wal-mart, but at 7 a.m., it’s kind of a ghost town and I like that.

Then we came home and in went lice spray and the laundry mill started again. I need to fix the vacuum and do that, in addition to swatting away the neighbor kids who, even when told by an adult, “she can’t play until this afternoon”, keep coming around…GRR. Stupid people irk me. And I am sorry if that offends, but really. Even children can grasp the word ‘no’ even if they don’t like it. It amazes me how every man I have every been with finds me this terrifying emasculating bitch beast and yet children don’t fear me enough to respect me, at all. I may as well have “welcome mat” printed on my head for all they pay attention to me. Then again, I am terrified to be too stern because then the brawler parents get involved and panic disorder does not allow for confrontation, let alone neighbor wars. Already have two kids banned from playing with Spook and frankly, I’d feel bad but it’s those damn devil girls and them being out of our lives is a relief, not a punishment for me. Not like they treat Spook any better than the others, either, she was always fighting with them, too. Am I awful being relieved they’re banned from playing with my kid?

Maybe I should get a Terminator to be a nanny and referee. If only.

So..laundry Mt Olympus, wait for the phone to charge so I can get it all transferred, do some math to figure out how to pay for everything when the money simply isn’t there, and maybe at some point scumbag brain will chillax and allow me a moment of peace. Hypomanic bouts aren’t always great when the mania is spinning thoughts as opposed to physical energy and getting things done.

Mania is such a misnomer for hypo episodes. More like “mental go round”, cos my mind keeps spinning round and round and I can’t get off the fucking ride.

She’s Home

So the oldest one made it home last night at 7:30 p.m.  We were very surprised she went all day and didn’t break it up, but it was nice to have her finally back. She has all kinds of stories still to tell us, so we will be hearing about this trip for a long time.

I’ve sent off a lot of stuff the past couple of days, some to really high-end magazines.  At least they haven’t cost me anything, so I am saying it’s a no-risk proposition.  We will see what turns out.

My mom and dad are coming down to visit tomorrow. They want to see the oldest one now that she’s back from her trip.   So we will have that going on tomorrow.

I hope my mood lifts some soon.  I’m not fully depressed, just feel like I’m in a holding pattern. Waiting for something.  But I don’t know exactly what that something is.



The Park As Good Medicine – Part 2

Hi, Violet! Hi, Violet’s Mom! One thing about dogs, after seeing them only once or twice, you remember their names. It is almost park etiquette to ask a pet-parent the following questions: What’s his/her name? What breed is he/she? How old … Continue reading