Charisma, Zero

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , , on November 21, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I am watching a documentary on Princess Diana and it occurs to me that as magnetic as her personality was…My own personality…is not. I’m not always in hate with myself, don’t get me wrong. Some of my quirks are delightful and the rest of the world sucks for not recognizing that. I am more than my mental health issues and yet I am supposed to stay on topic so my blog is about something and so there’s really not much chance to show that there’s more to me than depression and anxiety and griping about, well, everything.

I never thought myself anything special, I was, by all acounts, just a normal kid, little more mature for my age than others but…Maybe I had a big town mentality even though trapped in small town America, I never had this sense that I was better than or less than or even something that stood out. That all changed when we moved from one small town to an even tinier town (population 144) and it was all denim and flannel and livestock and having an open mind and liking things as I did like Culture Club and Duran made me an outcast. I loved make up, spray in hair color, wearing tons of jewelry and well, clothes not made of denim or flannel.

That began my loss of innocence as a child, finding out just how cruel people can be to anyone who is different. And the adults around me had the stellar advice to ‘just try to blend in’ but that was directly at odds with me simply being who I am. So began name calling, tormenting, being spit on, singled out, excluded. I was ugly, I was weird, I was a freak, I didn’t belong, they wanted me to go back where I came from and were not shy telling me as much.

So that part of my young life was pretty rough but I stayed true to myself and did what I liked. My dad said ‘you bring it on yourself’ and so be it. Because people just shutting the hell up if they dislike something cos it scares them or it’s different would be ridiculous, I should be the one to change. By then, though, I could have worn clothes out of the popular kids’ closets and it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d been labeled an outcast, weirdo, told that I should do drugs so I’d have a legitimate excuse to be such a weirdo.

All these things they found so weird about me were actually quite popular in larger areas. I was different but not like with six inch high fuschia mohawk and assless chaps. But to them, spray painting your hair hot pink was some mortal sin.It would be many years before I was told that many people simply found me intimidating, and they envied me for having the courage to stand out and be who I was rather than blending in.

I am proud to say even as I face my 46th birthday next year…I am still doing my own thing. Two tone hair color, black rubber jelly bracelets, spiked boots, black leggings, and my staggering smart ass T shirt collection peppered with some vivid images of tigers, dragons, Jason Vorhees, Freddy Kruger…Black eyeliner. I may not have the energy to make myself presentable in this fashion often but that part of me remains, they did not quash my spirit even if they did drive me to quit school because otherwise I was going to get a bleeding ulcer and likely kill myself. They didn’t win because I got a GED and I am still me, through it all, even when my kid points out that I don’t look like the other parents. Oh, sweetie, that was never gonna happen. Jeans and flannel ain’t my jam.

But it was this being singled out and bullied for six years of my life when I was so young that gave me a complex, of sorts. When the docs and therapists would throw their little tests at me and ask if I somehow felt special or different than everyone else, my answer was always yes. Because I was programmed daily for six years that I was different in a bad way, that I was special in a bad way, that I wasn’t like everyone else, in a bad way. And so that lead to one doc concluding that I am schizotypal cos I think I am special and different but…

I’m just me. For better or worse. Mood swings, anxieties, days without bathing, days where I sleep more than I am awake, the days where my only comfort comes from my kid being happy and my cats loving me…This is me. I started posting youtube videos which I’ve avoid 15 plus years lest the ‘you’re a fat ugly bitch’ trolls rain on my parade and blow up my floats, but I’m kind of sick of living like that. I survived being spit on and called a prostitute when I was 15, I think I can handle some net trolls. Then again, one mood swing or panic attack and it could be my undoing.

I wish had this ‘thing’ called charisma so my blog would be more popular, so our fundraiser would be more successful, so people would see that I have a plan for the future to support us and I can totally rock it, gieven seed money to get started. But I don’t have that kind of charisma. I’m weird, but not weird enough. I’m mental but not the entertaining kind of mental. I’m a single mom but I’m not thin and pretty so I can’t raise much money for my kid to get things she needs. Whatever ‘it’ is, I don’t have it. Not sure I ever thought I did, but I figured since so many people went out of their way to torment me on a daily basis for no reason other than they didn’t like my spray in hair color that day, I must be onto something that kept me from fading into the background as zero anti personality girl.

There was a time I wanted to be famous and popular. I got a brief taste of that at JobCorps for the six weeks I stayed there and ya know what?Being popular sucked, it’s like I had guys who liked me, but then all the girls saw me as this homewrecking threat (I was 17,ffs) and I was glad to just get back to doing my own thing and not be in demand or a target. And now that’s how I want my life to be. I want my voice to be heard (in written word, of course,as I am a writer) but I’m okay with 5 or 10 people who think I’m cool. I don’t need adored by hundreds. I’m not good with crowds.

Still…I wish I had a little more of this special’it’ charisma when it came to stuff like dating or trying to find work. Alas, one of the toughest things one has to ever do is accepting who they are.

I’m not charismatic, I am not popular, and frankly…I don’t give a fuck if you like the way I color my hair, paint my face, or what clothes I wear. There’s so much more to me than that and those who bother to find that out are the ones worth my while.

The rest is just flotsam and jetson in the day and age where anyone can be an internet sensation.

I’ll happily hang on to the few connections I’ve made on line through this blog and maybe get lucky enough to hit it off with a couple more people who like me just the way I am.

I guess that’s my charisma. Knowing what counts more to me is quality over quantity. Five good friends beats the hell out of a million followers who don’t care if you live or die as long as you’re entertaining them.

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Out Of Gas

Posted in depression with tags , , , , on November 20, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I’m not sure I even have fumes left to run on.I got about two hours of sleep, then woke at 1 a.m. so I could spend 3 hours horking up sinus drainage. It took more melatonin and diphenhydrmaine to get back to sleep, where I dreamt and don’t remember dreaming but I remember waking with an unsettled feeling so…it wasn’t pleasant. The sinus pressure has me ready to chop off my own head. The PMDD cramps are shooting right through to my spine. Not helping my S.A.D is that it’s a very cold, very gray day. I suppose the fact it’s dry as opposed to raining or snowing is a plus. I’m too damn tired and drain-y and crampy to feel much gratitude.

I got gutsy and called my dad asking to borrow $5 for gas cos I need to get to town twice for the holiday shindig. He’s sick as hell himself with this cold bullshit and he hasn’t been working, so of course the answer was no, you caught us at a bad time. Funny, they can give my sister $50 to clean their house (stepmom’s not working atm, either) but they can’t loan me a fiver to put gas in my car. Do they think I’m proud of having to ask for even minute help? I said, never mind, I’ll figure it out, and proceeded to empty 3/4 gallon of gas into my car’s tank that was left in the shed from mowing season. Not sure it will get me the 50 miles I need to get to town and back twice, but I have no other ideas. I’ve pawned off my most my dvds (fifty cents each, was hardly worth it) and the guy offered me $75 for ALL my electronics cos they’re all so old and it’s not worth packing it all into town for that. Seriously, $75 for a laptop, desktop, two lcd tvs and a tablet? Well, come to think of it, the only thing there that cost me more than $110 was the tablet and my mom bought it for me, so yeah, my crap is well, pretty crappy when even not pawn worthy.

My kid went to bed at 6 p.m. last night, she is so worn out from the cold and all the coughing. Poor thing, I’ve medicated her much as I can and myself, I am all but hooked up to an IV of various antihistamines in hopes of drying up the sinus drainage and relieving some of the pressure in my head. It’s days like this where everything just hurts and I realize, hokey or not, ‘as long as you have your health’, that actually is something. I don’t do sick with grace. It just pisses me off to be sick. My brain, fine, fucker hasn’t worked right since birth. My body, though, I’ve always had a killer immune system and very little illness. Now it’s sinuses and colds and cramps and my spine feels like the ovary oompa loompas are chewing their way through…

I am dreading Thanksgiving. Gah, every damn year it’s the same thing, mom and sis spend $500 for one bloody meal, it takes forever to cook then clean up, and we’re all full after the first plate anyway so we have to wait for seconds or desserts…Then we’ll talk about how much they spent and all the work they did and for what, and HELLO, I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR YEARS!!! Even back when my grandma did it, I never quite grasped going this far out for a single bloody meal. Don’t get me started on what a let down Christmas is…I wish I was feeling festive, I wish I could just embrace the love of family, but frankly…Not feeling it. In the least. I fact, I’m already plotting ways to escape after only an hour or two of attendance but since I have the beloved granddaughter,I’m probably gonna be stuck there far longer than I want to be. And it’s not just family bullshit or hellidays. This is the seasonal depression, it makes me not want to be around others lest I poison them with a disorder I can’t control and sure as hell don’t want.

I still haven’t done fuck all around the house, I’m just worn out between cramps and sinus pain and not sleeping well. I fed the cats, does that count as my big accomplishment for the day? I’m still a little bruised from my call with dad. I mean, I know things aren’t great for them, but I literally would repay them the $5 when my check comes on the first, it wouldn’t actually break them. They always have a few hundred in the bank as a cushion so a five dollar ask didn’t seem like a drama creator for me but…it was and now my self esteem is in the gutter. Your family should make you feel better about yourself but mine…never worked that way. They may mean well but their bedside manner’s part of why spending time with them is more endurance test than pleasure even outside of the depressions.

I thought I’d go to town today for supplies to make noodles but honestly…it’s going to be 15 degrees warmer tomorrow so I will likely just wait. This whole gas tank situation has me nervous but unfortunately the repair on that is going to be around $300 so I’m gonna have to just keep writing mileage on my post it notes and trying to track mileage and gas use that way. If it weren’t for that one thing, this car would be ideal. For someone with numerical dyslexia and an anxiety disorder…guessing games aren’t fun, just stressful. And the interstate between Armpit and Bumfuck isn’t the place to be playing ‘do I have enough gas to get there and back’ in 28 degree weather.

Damn. NOw I feel shitty for putting dad on the spot and asking for that $5. I budgeted my money to the cent, but when the oil had to be changed in the car, it added an extra 40 miles on the tank to get to the mechanic so that’s why I’m coming up short for fuel. At worst, I’d have thought they’d have asked what I needed in town and offered to grab it for me…arghhhh. Not even 10 a.m. and I feel the need for a Xanax. But ya know, even when my dad isn’t under the weather, he’s still got a prick-ish bedside manner. I ask my mom for $5, she’ll say, “Oh, I would if I had it, but I don’t.” My dad…has to turn it into a guilt trip on the non blessed hellride, like you’re asking for an organ transplant. So I don’t tell them when I need things then they say stupid shit like, “Well, why didn’t you tell us you needed that?”

GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Me, in pain, with rioting hormones, my kid home for 4 days, and the family get together.

It’s gonna be a bumpy ride. I wanna be sedated.

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Mundane Monday Vlog

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , , on November 20, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I want to keep this blog based on written word rather than video but today kind of sucked and it’s taken 8 plus hours to upload a 25 minute vid clip to youtube (fuck you, ALLEGEDLY high speed internet costing me $80 a month) (and that’s after a 2 hour total reformat of my FUBAR Android) so…I’m just gonna post the video. My kid went to bed before 6 p.m., she is so exhausted from the cold and cough and I am pms-ing and dreading the family get together Thursday so…I’m gonna go on a melatonin vacation as soon as the vid finishes uploading. Honestly, I finally, after 3 tries, managed to watch Dxter thru season 8, final season, and um, yeah, didn’t like the ending but I finish it at last…I’m caught up on most my on line shows which has reduced me to garbage on the free digital antenna like Little House On The Prairie (acck, tho my kid could learn a few lessons on how to be less spoiled from that show), then an old Three’s Company (mindless funny) and now M*A*S*H. And I watch it by choice but mostly I remember it as a ‘booorring’ show my dad watched when I was a kid and we had one TV so I endured it…Now that I am OLD(er)…I appreciate the show for what it is.

I’d like to send a thank you to one of my followers who was so very decent and kind as to send us cat food and litter that will tide our cats over til my check comes. I’m never sure about proper netiquette and whether to link to someone’s blog or if they want to remain anon, so if she reads this…let me know. I have no problem linking to you, you have been so very kind to our furry friends. Merci!!!!

I’m ready for bed. PMDD doesn’t just give you pms on steroids, it pretty much makes your entire body ache and feel bruised. I am not opposed to rest. I just hope Spook feels better come morning, hate seeing her feeling so rough. She’s in good company as pretty much every member of the family has had it-and still is battling it. I’ve medicated her much as is safe, though, this ain’t bacterial. Viral stuff you gotta tough out and my kid isn’t good at that. She wants to fuss, whine, complain, manipulate, and fuss some more and drag you down with her. She’s like a 50 year old man in a 9 year old girl’s body 😛 (Oh, don’t get your boxers in a bunch, it’s funny.)

I swiped this pic from another blogger who is set to private so I won’t share the link unless she tells me it’s cool. I’ve got several adult coloring books but since I can’t afford good crayons or markers, just more stress, not less. Funny cartoon, tho.

FUNDRAISER OPENING PAGE UPDATED
Needing moeny for gas to get to town and back for multiple appointments isn’t exactly trying to score a fancy gaming system. Need, not greedy, and I really need money for gas to get my kid in for her yearly eye,dental, and well kid check up. So if nothing else,a gas station gift card would be awesome. I know, no dignity in having a hand out, but if you read the updated page, you’ll see I actually have a ‘future’ plan in place, I just need a little seed money, and to get through the holidays with the heat still on and my kid clothed appropriatly for the weather.


And check out the channel and subscribe, too.

Why do I bother with optimism…

Posted in depression, seasonal affect disorder with tags , , , , on November 18, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

So Spook and I went to town today, trading a chicken for a ham, basically. Meaning I gave my sister $35 ham for our family Thanksgiving (plus I am making $15 in chicken noodles) and she gave me cat litter and food for a week. It’s a foreign concept to people now, taking things out in trade like that,but from what I can gather, for hundreds of years, people have used the barter system to get what they need by giving what they have to spare. I’ve no problem with it. Maybe if it I were a monster I’d just put all the cats out in the cold and let them starve so I could save some dollars and stress but…my conscience would make that worse rather than better. I mean, I’m the sap who makes warm gravy to put on the cheapo cat food so they find it more appealing.

I got a text first thing from Sexting Pervert, whom I have not heard from in 2 months after he sent dick pics and I just put him on ignore. I was filled with disgust knowing I would need to go to the store where he was obviously working, since the text came in before 7 a.m. and anyone who knows fuck all about me knows…Saturday is my ONLY day to sleep after 7 a.m. But I went there and got to hear him brag again about his 2013 Mustang he went broke buying and he offered to take me for a ride any time…then I said, “Don’t send me naked pics,I don’t like that shit.” And he was like, “Well, can you send me some of you, that’s hot!” IN FRONT OF MY KID, he said this, thankully she lives only on her own planet and pays little mind to grown ups. (Seriously, if I ever get cut up after a klutzy lawn mower incident, Spook will let me bleed out before she thinks to check me for signs of life.) Anyway, she told me he obviously liked me so I asked, should I give him a chance and she said yes.

Silly old me skipped banter and innuendo and plainly texted back to him, “If you’re just looking to get laid, that is not me,I am gonna save us both some time by putting it out there.” He thanked me for my honesty and I’ve not heard a word since. I thought, ya know, since he’s been hitting on me for 2 years that it might be something more mature than a pervy hook up but at least I know now…I was right, he only wanted one thing and by telling him he wasn’t gonna get it from me…Problem solved. Worst of humanity confirmed. Kind of disappointed, I’d kind of hoped he truly found me intriguing but meh, whatever. I’m about to turn 46, all this high school hook up sexting bullshit simply isn’t for me. Sadly, others consider me prudish. Hmmph, those fucks have zero idea how much money I spent on garter belts, thigh highs, and crotchless panties in the 90’s with my first husband…I’m slutty as I wanna be if there’s trust and substance involved.

Spook and I had our movie night and watched ‘Stan Helsing’. It was hilarious, though much humor was lost on her as I’ve never let her watch movies like Jeepers Creepers. I mean, my mom let me watch rated R horror movies when I was 7 but I wasn’t prone to nightmares like Spook is. My sister let her watch the new movie “It” and she was having nightmares for 3 weeks after. I thought parodies of horror movies would be less tramatic for her, she’s watched “Vampires Suck” and “Shriek if you know what I did last Friday the 13th” numerous times…I think the “YMCA” tune with the words “it’s fun to kill S-T-A-N” is gonna stick to me for awhile. It was just fricking funny.

Today wasn’t great, but I wasn’t preoccupied with ‘this is futile’ thoughts so I will call it a win. I got dressed, we went to town, we bought supplies then we watched a movie together…During which she admitted, “I know I said I didn’t want the Magic Tracks thing for Christmas, cos I was afraid what people would say about me getting a ‘boy toy’ but I really do want one.” And I was like YOU GO GIRL! I’m not hung up on gender stereoptypes and have never intentionally pushed it on her. One year, I even bought her a tool kit cos she liked pretending to use a hammer and ‘fix’ things. (And I’ve been known to ask for staple guns, screwdriver sets, and other ‘boy toys’ for Xmas- this year I want a cheapo cordless drill, but oh, well, now I need windshield wipers, bloody hell.) I am definitely not happy fun ball mom cos of the depression but I am making the effort to try. TRY. I mean, with depression, happy fun ball is kind of reserved for when you’re manic cos the mood stabilizers aren’t working properly. Mostly I want to sleep and just not participate in what shit the country has become but in spite of my disabilities, my small income, my inability so focus…

I’ve not walked out on my kid. I may let her down because I can’t give her $30 for the school book fair so she has to endure her friends taunting her with how much they could buy…But shitty as things get for me, I’ve never abandoned her to spare myself. I’ve been here since before day one, when she was living rent free in my utuerus…I am not a perfect mom. But I am a GOOD mom. And I am a present mom, even if I can’t afford for her to participate in all the extra curriculars, She’s only 9 so ‘stuff’ and ‘popularity’ are what matter most to her but in the big picture…She’s fed, clothed, has heat, running water, pets, a tablet (even if it dies after 15 minutes), a TV and VCR, a portable dvd player, that fancy ass dollhouse grandma got her…It’s not like she’s truly deprived or neglected. But having been that age I do remember how important those small things like book orders and book fairs and after school activities mean. Good news is…it sucks, but it’s not fatal.

So, the blog have youtube channel now. Only 3 videos posted so far but please check them out. The one about X-mas, Spook said, “I feel like we’re manipulating people” and I asked her to tell me what manipulate means. She said, “Well, making them want to watch our video.” Hmm…Not sure posting a link and leaving everyone with free will to click and watch it or not but…there was no intent to manipulate or be phony. I kind of thought seeing how we interact together, unscripted, would be more honest than any blog post I can write. Seeing is believing, right?

So check out our channel, give horror movie parodies a chance, and don’t forget to worship at the altar of Spork tomorrow. Yes, that’s a thing in my world. Sue me.

What’s New And Stuff

Posted in depression with tags , , , on November 17, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Okay, so not much new but I do have a dedicated youtube channel to upload my prattling mental health videos to. Check Morgueticiaatoms out. I couldn’t seem to keep them under 18 minutes so I get it if no one can be bothered. I just know after 7 years on this blog, I’ve shown a few pics but never really put myself out there and allowed people to see me as I am and then judge whether I’m a whack a doodle in a good or bad way. So if ya get to feeling it, check out the two videos I’ve posted and cut me some slack as I am new to video uploading so it’s all probably FUBAR. Work in progress.

Today has been…Meh. Windshield wiper broke off the car due to the snow and ice, as if I can afford to replace that right now. PMS is kicking up. I’ve loaded up on anti histamines and the last of the melatonin in hopes of getting a little solid sleep. Being reduced to taking Seroquel, and had negatively it impacted my functionality simply isn’t going to work for me. I tried eating a corndog earlier. Dropped the plate, ketchup on the floor and the cat burgled my food. I nuked a frozen meatloaf someone gave me but it made me gag, it just tasted so bad to me so the cats got a treat there…I know I should put something on my stomach but I can’t be arsed.

Remember that we are reaching out during this tough holiday season for a little hand up with expenses since child support has not been forthcoming for months. There is no obligation to donate, but should you watch the videos and decide to show a random act of kindness in the form of a donation or e gift card or whatever…Much obliged.

And stay tuned to that channel on youtube for more videos where I will eventually make sense and stay on topic and win your hearts with my babble babble bitch bitch. (If anyone draws the line between the artist and song that line is from gets a spork of awesomeness.)

Niters.

Avalanche

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , on November 15, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Ok, so it was more like 3 inches of snow, but it was enough that I got a 5 a.m. call saying school was canceled. I was a bit relieved because I’d been anxious for hours, looking out to see if it had started to snow yet. I was still wide awake 4 hours after I took the dreaded Seroquel and I could take it no more so I addded 75 mg Benadryl and eventually, nodded off. Only to wake at 2 a.m. and feel head achey and hungover yet I could not get back to sleep. I halved one of the few melatonin left and tossed and turned some more. I had just nodded off again when I got the call canceling school. Once that was resolved, I took another 25mg Seroquel (bottle says 1-2 tablets as needed so no overdosage), thinking I could sleep til 9 or 10 at least. Only to be wakened again at 7 a.m. by my dad wanting to know if there was school, which is kind of stupid since they don’t have small kids and it has no impact on them, but I then again, it’s long been a way midwesterners check road conditions. If school gets cancelled, it isn’t good. Pfft, I went back to sleep again…

Spook woke me after 9 and asked if it was time for school. I told her school was off, go play in the snow, I’d be up in a few…She woke me again at 10 to let me know I needed to get up and she’d already had a chat with our neighbor about how I was still in bed and I better not sleep til noon…I told her to make herself some hot cocoa and a cinnamon roll and I’d be up shortly…And I had every intention of getting up, I had no desire to sleep til noon. And yet..That’s what happened. She finally came in to berate me that it was noon and I HAD to get up. And thus begins another day of self loathing, and why? Because I can’t sleep and the meds they give me to help fix this fuck me up this much.

So I got up with a throbbing headache and felt dazed and confused (Seroquel has always made me feel out there, like I missed a day or something, off the planet) and while she continued to berate and nag me, I realized she’d been up the entire time without even watering or feeding the cats so I had to do that while trying to swim into consciousness. She was more self sufficient as a 4 year old than she is now and is grosses me out, honestly. I already have a 23 year old brother who operates at emotional level of 10 and most of it is learned because dad and stepmonster decided he was a simpleton and they’ve kept him that way. I want my child to blossum, to become independent, to become self sufficient and help out more because honestly, at her age I was ten times more mentally mature and responsible so maybe I am too tough on her for that reason but…At the same time I don’t think it’s cool that she stressed me out less when she was only 2 and totally dependent on me for pretty much everything.

I am coming out of the haze, but my sinuses are still fucked up so the pain remains in that area and my body feels achey and bruised, which means I apparently got too much sleep even if it was in 90 minute increments. I guess I’d be better off if I could just 4 solid hours. Idk. I just know I’ve been a single mom for 7 years and no matter how many depressive cycles, I’ve never felt like such an utter failure as a mother as I do when I take Seroquel and I can’t fight its sedating properties or pry myself out of its grip. I think I’d feel less guilty if I was hungover from a booze binge, because then I’d have brought it on myself by choosing to drink. To feel this shitty by simply taking a prescribed medication-one,mind you, that millions of other people take daily without incident, this is unfuckingcool. My disorders may interfere with me being a happy fun ball mom but it’s never kept me from getting up to feed my kid. The ‘treatments’ for the disorders do though.

I just want a new bottle of melatonin, I can’t handle the Seroquel hangovers on a daily basis. As I recall it was that and the oversleeping that made me go off the crap in the first place. While I would love to stay asleep as much as possible cos even my nightmares are more positive than my reality, I cannot be on a med that even low dose makes me unable to be a parent. That to me makes perfect sense yet to the medical professionals it is considered non compliance. Because hey why should you expect to remain lucid on meds, you should absolutely need a babysitter on call for when rendered useless.

I know I am negative nelly these days and I don’t like it, either, but the one thing I swore I’d never do in this blog is put up a front. This is me in my true ugly depressive form.The ‘how can anyone have this much bad luck,for real’ chick. 2018 has been a non blessed hellride with no signs of looking up. It boggles me that six weeks ago, I was actually in a decent place. Not perfect, but not a medded out zombie, not a ‘not bathed in over a week’ lump. The depressions that come with season change are like ninjas attacking from all angles. The only up side is that my anxiety is lower so I don’t need as much Xanax. Again, one of those catch 22 treatment things. If you take the full allowed dose per day, you’re abusing it or using it as a crutch. If you don’t take max dose, then you’re hindering your own improvement…

Something’s got to give, soon. The house smells like a big litter box because I’ve scooped as much as I can but I was lead to believe I’d be getting money for babysitting except their job fell through so mine did, too. We’re all in suckageville, I guess. I don’t feel rested, at all, if anything, I feel more tired than I did when I woke at 2 a.m. So if sleep isn’t the answer, trying your best gets you nowhere, and praying to every deity available for some clarity as to how to help yourself fails…

The old me would me have probably obliterated reality with any pills inducing sleep because, well, I could and had no reason not to. Now I have a kid counting on me and even if she’s being a butt munch, I owe it to her not to fall to pieces or become an overly medicated drumpf. I’m going to keep hanging in there, and do some more praying. There’s got to be a way to survive this outside of hospitalization.

No obligation, but if you can donate…we appreciate every cent more than you will ever know.

Going Toe To Toe Against My Depression

Posted in depression with tags , , , , on November 15, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I think tonight I can go to bed with a little less self loathing as I forced myself to accomplish a few odd tasks today. With cramps and an aching back and draining sinuses, as well as mental symptoms, it was more stop and start than any great accomplishments but still…I did dishes, I vacuumed a bit, left my bedroom and spent an hour sitting in the living room, ‘pushing’ myself out of my comfort zone. I went toe to toe with the depression and I only have a few bruised piggies. Why today was different than yesterday is beyond me. Some sort of stars aligning thing.

I didn’t do as much as I wanted.

Our microwave quit-right after I got rid of the old one that actually still worked but my dad was on me about not needing to hold onto the old one….GRRRR.

My kid constantly complains of not feeling well and I honestly think living in Armpit and going to the area school are stressing her out to the point of sickness. I suppose this is my karma for blaming my parents for ruining my life when they moved us when I was 10 thus beginning my rural life where I was shunned and outcast.I hated them for it. Now…I get it. Financially there were no other options. Guess even as a grown up you don’t quite grasp your own childhood bad memories until you’ve had to live in the position of the parent ‘failing’ the kid by not having enough money to be choosy on where to live. I’m starting to adapt here, but without child support, I can’t keep the rent and lights and water on let alone pay for car insurance, internet, gas, pet food…Too poor to move, too poor to stay.

Catch 22 seems to be a theme in my life.

I am experimenting with my medications. No, not like inhaling prozac through a crazy straw, but taking the anti depressants toward 5 p.m. when my moods seem to crash the worst. It’s only been two days so I can’t speak to it helping much other than to wind me up which was why taking them in the morning was helpful. I am almost out of melatonin so I took a 25 mg Seroquel, gonna see how long it takes to kick in and how long it keeps me down. Forecast is calling for 2-4 inches of snow over the next 36 hours so seroquel hangover in the morning seems a bad idea yet…Idk. Trial and error. Figure out what works best and how and when and…

Man…These starving kids, Wounded Warriors, pets needing adopted, sick kids on TV commercials are making me feel lower than pond scum for asking others to help my child and me. But there’s always going to be someone more worthy out there and just talking to my family or kid means I live with little self esteem anyway, so…

Fa la la la la please help us stay afloat with donation or a share on social media or if it makes you feel better, I’ll give you our address and you can send stuff direct so you know we’re not up to anything nefarious. And by ‘send stuff’ I mean household supplies, melatonin, cat supplies, things we have to have because there is no toilet paper fairy…I’ll take the fundraiser down the minute the donor starts paying again. IF that ever happens.

For this moment…I feel a modicum of peace and clarity but alas have hit my depressive wall. I need to reboot my brain with some mindless TV and hopefully sleep of some quality and quantity.

I’m not much of a bragger but after so many days of depression having me pinned to the ground with a boot on my neck…the fact we went toe to toe today and I’m not begging to be hospitalized…

I’ll take those little ones any day because for me, they are HUGE WINS.