Archive for October, 2013

Reality is biting me

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on October 28, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

I am smothering again. Stress, problems, dealing with people (including my own kid) struggling with moods and anxiety and depression…

I have a hair trigger temper these days, which is at odds with how numb I feel. And it’s not a good numb, it’s that “end of the line” numb where you have just had all you can stand of reality and the minutae that comprise life.

Today it’s a desktop computer that keeps crashing. Yet no virus or malware is turning up and if it does i will be shocked considering the wifi card won’t even allow it to access the net 90% of the time.

I need to get a lithium level done tomorrow. I hate going to the hospital to use the lab. Hate it.

My kid won’t stop talking, she absolutely refuses to entertain herself, she has to be glued to me at all times. UNLESS her rude little friends come around then I don’t exist.

The friends have me ready to drink bleach. All summer they would stay for hours. Now they knock on the door, play with her for five minutes then go play with other kids and leave her hanging. It doesn’t stop them from demanding food then leaving or getting a snack then leaving. They do this multiple times a day and it is making me insane. I have started putting the kibosh on play times, but they still come back to the door over and over in spite of being told not to. I hate those kids with a burning passion and it makes me feel shitty to say it but it is what it is. I have tried so hard to be patient and tolerant but at some point you get enough shoe prints on your back you retire as welcome mat.

I keep wondering though what happened. I dealt all summer with more grace than this. But I was manic from the Cymbalta and the mindset difference is astounding. It’s like I spent the entire summer happy drunk and am just now sobering up and seeing things for what they are.

Cripes, I didn’t take my lithium with food and now I have nausea from hell,  Morning sickness nausea has nothing on this shit. Time to go find a cracker or something.

I think I am losing my mind. Honestly. Cracking under the pressure. And it pisses me off. I have done everything I am supposed to do, tried so hard…and still the mental illness wins and reality bites me on the ass.

I no longer enjoy life, at all. I spend more time dreaming of the day when my number is up. That;s sad.

But at least I’m too depressed to do anything about it.

Maybe the new shrink next month will have some ideas. I won’t hold my breath though.


Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on October 21, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

I am feeling a mixed state today. Sluggish but manic thoughts and mental energy. It’s not productive.

It’s confusing to be in two places at once. But then, bipolar itself is the epitome of confusion.

Woke up to my alarm this morning. Shut it off. Overslept, only thing that saved me was a text message waking me.

Went to the shop and got done what was on my list within ninety minutes. That’;s always nice. I am starting to feel edgy there. Ringing phone, customers coming in, and R is so vague with his instructions. It’s anxiety inducing and I cannot leave fast enough. Last year I enjoyed being there. I have no idea what has changed except my mental space.

It is so galling to be doing ok for awhile, then to not being so good. This is the scary part, The prelude to sinking down the rabbit hole. Next step: waking up facedown in trash you haven’t taken out in days because the panic attacks are so brutal. Facedown because your only survival method is to drink yourself into a stupor and pass out wherever.

Been there, done that, did NOT buy the t-shirt.

But now I have no desire to drink. It gives me heartburn and makes me sleepy so what’s the point?

I picked up my scripts today. The doctor increased my lithium to 1200. You’d think 300 mg four times a day, But no. For whatever broken logic I do not get, she prescribed both 300 and 150 mg. ‘Cos I am doing so well now where I have to commend myself for putting on pants, I can totally do math and take two in the morning and one at lunch and one at supper and this dosage at bedtime. Geesh, trying to treat my illness is resembling rocket science.

Frankly, everything is just complicated and hard at this time.

Now that I have bitched and moaned,,,

I will spew some rainbows and sunshine to prove I am not the pessimist overlord,

The Originals- new vampire show. AWESOME.

A warm shirt just out of the dryer- amazing.

Music (especially Love+Lust+Faith+Dreams by 30 Seconds to Mars or anything by 30STM.)- a bandage for my bleeding soul.

Glazed crullers- not big on sweets but these donuts are surely the result of magic

Dr Pepper-nectar of the gods.

Pork chops breaded in Ritz crackers and fried- DELICIOUSLY DECADENT

That’s the good the bad and the fugly for today.


I always preferred to be shaken, not stirred or mixed.



The Living Dead Girl post

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on October 21, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

I’m not a zombie but I feel like I could be one. IF zombies were depressed, listless, paranoid, anxious and irritable.

I’m dead, but alive. Living Dead Girl. It’s not just a cool song by Rob Zombie, who knew.

I have wanted to post all week but always come up with a reason not to. It isn’t lack of emotions or words. It’s laziness that comes with seasonal affect. I mean, the good days are the ones when I manage to get my kid bathed AND myself. It sounds so trivial but at this time in my life and mood cycle, it’s a huge thing.

For weeks we have been living out of laundry baskets of clean but unfolded clothes. Nothing like 7:40 am and you can’t find underwear but you know they are there under sixteen other items of clothing and your kid is screeching and the clock is ticking and this needs to be done and you have to leave NOW..

Cripes. I finally bit the bullet and folded six baskets today, Funny thing is I now have six more to fold because my stepmom gave us some bedding I had to wash. It never ends.

The anxiety and paranoia have been insane. I swear I have bugs crawling on my skin. I can’t see them but I feel them and I itch. I have even used rubbing alcohol on my skin thinking maybe they are invisible bugs and I can burn them off. And I am aware that I sound crazy, I told the shrink all of this. She luckily yanked the Lexapro but I’m not feeling less crazier, tho the anxiety the last few days has been toned from ten to 5. I am going to increase lithium, but that can’t happen for awhile cos I have no money to buy it.

And next month I get to see a new shrink.

Meanwhile I am still pretty sure I have bugs crawling all over me half the time and it seems to be a common side effect with two of the meds I am on.

In other news, I have withdrawn so far from any kind of outer life people have gotten rather irritated with me and made claims that I think I am too good to hang out with them. Hey you want to hang out with a chick convinced bugs are crawling on her when no bugs are there???Let’s hang out and braid each other’s hair WHILE I SCREAM ABOUT THE BUGS EATING ME ALIVE. Geesh. I am trying to shelter people from my current bucket of crazy but even that bites me on the ass.

I have been writing my vampire novel for the last month. Obsessively, insanely, driven like a woman possessed writing. Nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter no one will ever read it because I like it that way., I write for me. And I am still writing, even if this last stretch I had to force it hard to keep from blocking. It is so easy to give in to writer’s block and say, i’m out of material, let me get back to doing absolutely nothing,

The downside to being so consumed by my own creativity is that it makes me see how bland and pointless my own life actually is. Because no matter how hard I try to suck it up and get over it, every single time I am thwarted because mental illness rears its ugly fucking head, I mean, seriously, does anyone really think I would choose and relish being in a place where I feel bugs crawling on me? This current state serves me in no way. But it is the hand I have been dealt and I am playing it, albeit listlessly and with a bit of an attitude.

On the plus side, the lithium is REALLY doing its numbing thing. I have made jokes about emotional novacaine but lithium is it. Someone said something to me the other day that a couple of months ago would have set off my anger and tearducts. But I felt NOTHING, not good, not bad. Just…nothing.

It isn’t so much a lack of affect, I still have feelings. But I am no longer a prisoner to them, They don’t seem to alter every six seconds. I am finally finding some sort of emotional stability.

To make up for that plus, though, I have hella anxiety and depression.


Sorry, tension breaker, had to be done,

Sorry, Breakfast club reference.

Pop culture is my number one coping mechanism. If sarcasm and humor can’t solve it then it can’t be solved, right?

I don’t know.

I can hear the clock ticking. Which is funny because it’s digital. Actually I meant metaphorically. Back to school for my kid tomorrow, which puts me on her time, doiing her bidding. The return of my anxiety and inability to truly breathe., I try not to look at it that way, but it is what it is.

What can I say? Right now.,.I am sanity challenged.


Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on October 17, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

“Crawling in my skin these wounds they will not heal”- Linkin Park

It seems to fit right now.

I feel like I have bugs crawling on my skin, This is apparently common with Lexapro (generic version). But I am on so many pills, who even knows. I see the shrink in the morning, my last appt before being faced with a new one. I’m just gonna tell her that my anxiety has worsened, my skin is crawling, and it all happened around the time i started the lexapro. I’m not having too much trouble with lamictal or lithium and i have never had a problem with xanax…

That leaves,,,Lexapro. I dread telling her. She already thinks I’m so anti depressant junkie, If she simply wants to increase the dosage, I think I am gonna opt out. If this crawling thing doesnt go away, I will stand corrected. I didn’t have this shit with Cymbalta, Stands to reason it’s the new med in the mix.

Seasonal affect is kicking my ass. I can barely drag my ass out of bed each morning, hitting snooze until I literally have to throw clothes on me and the kid, shove pancakes at her, and get in the car. By 7 pm, my mood is so low I just want to go to bed, I am fighting it, and my kid who never sleeps is helping. But I am exhausted in every way,

The anxiety and panic have become unbearable.My kid is relentless. She bosses me around, manipulates me, has constant demands. Nothing I do is good enough. I buy her things, she destroys them. I ask for five minutes of space, within sixty seconds she’s hungry or thirsty even when she has a snack and drink already. I keep thinking maybe i don’t pay her enough attention so I got a coloring book and crayons today and tried to do that with her. She sat and broke all the crayons, peeled off the paper and threw it on the floor, then complained over every thing I tried to color in, Nothing is ever good enough, nothing is ever right.

‘She doesn’t do this with anyone but me.

They say, “You let her get away with it.”

I grounded her all weekend because she threw a toy at a wall outlet the other day and blew half the circuits in the place, I tell her no. I use a firm voice. I take things away and have her earn them back with good behavior, I make her stand against the wall, I HAVE TRIED EVERYTHING. She is making me insane and feeling so disrespected and inferior is making me think maybe I just can’t handle the mom gig. Even as I write she is in her room bawling because she had a nightmare. This has become nightly for three weeks now and she will keep up the screams and tears until I let her come to my bed. Some nights I am so tired I let her. But it occurs to me that the doctor told me to let her cry when she was a baby…Maybe I need to do that now.

I don’t know what’s right anymore, my thinking is so distorted.

I need to call the landlord and get an electrician in here because I have no power in my bedroom, half the outlets in the other rooms don’t work. But my stupid brain is telling me to put it off, because I am in no mental space to allow my home to be invaded and be judged  by someone. I also fear when they go to work on it, the bugs will just explode from the walls. I spray and spray and they just keep appearing.

I want to fucking scream.

I am surrounded by my dad, questioning whether I paid my car insurance, like I’m a sixteen year old, Then berating me for not having the power issue fixed, I try to explain but a man who doesnt believe in mental illness can’t fucking grasp it,

I am overbooking myself because I can’t remember making appts on certain dates I have one at 9:20 in the morning, then at 10, then I have to pick my kid up at 11. And I can’t understand what I was thinking to schedule it that way.

I’m crumbling.

I have no one to ask for help. Or support. The money situation is devouring me stressing me ti every last penny. I don’t understand how I could go from managing so well to…this. Maybe I fucked up going off Cymbalta. But mania isn’;t any better.

I have been bowing out on social stuff making up lies and excuse because no one wants the truth, I am losing my mind, sorry I can’t hang out right now but I am pretty sure you are judging me and out to get me, Talk to me around springtime. Cripes.

The toughest thing is that I am an independent person. So to feel like I am going to lose it if I don’t get some help soon makes it all worse,

Now…my kid is still caterwalling and I am going to go try to comfort her. I cannot keep giving into her, though. She has become an emotional terrorist. I am not liking her much these days. It’s sad because she is so cute and funny and smart…And I love her so.

But the way she treats me makes it hard to not feel like utter shit.

I am giving my all here and all she does is remind me it’s not enough. I should be stronger than this, but I’m not, not right now.

I am anxious about my appts tomorrow. I will not sleep well. Which is a given because this child is not going to give up, she is relentless. And I am just weak at the moment.

She’s slept in my bed 8 out of 12 nights, where do I draw the line without becoming monster mom? God, I have no idea.

It’s like everything has fallen on top of me and I am being told to claw my way out of the rubble but I need a hand and no one will do anything but watch as I struggle in a futile effort.

Geesh, I sound dramatic even to me.

But mental illness can be pretty dramatic when it saps your will to live like it is doing to me.




Psychologically naked

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , on October 10, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

You know how they always talk about having the dream where you go out in public naked? I’ve never had it myself but it is constantly referenced on TV.

It’s how I felt today when I went to my kid’s parent teacher conference, except it was my psyche that was naked.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so weak. I was putting on the face, but my brain was this inner dialogue of paranoid thoughts and this feeling like my skin was crawling off my bones. I couldn’t wait for it to be over because I thought for sure she would notice my skin creeping its way off my bones and call the men in white coats to take me away.

I know I sound batshit crazy. The anxiety gets this bad sometimes, I start having illogical irrational paranoid thoughts. A mental illness gift I inherited after my daughter’s birth. Apparently I wasn’t crazy enough before, I needed another bucket of crazy in the mix.

I hemmed and hawed on whether to go get some groceries while she was still at my mom’s. I didn’t want to. I had to. I forced myself to. And it was awful because again, I felt psychologically naked, like every eye was on me and people were staring and they could see my skin crawling off my bones. I was on the edge of panic the whole time, my brain repeating the mantra you can go home soon, you can go home soon, you can go home soon. This has become commonplace for my trips out. And it freaks me the fuck out because I havent been this bad since before the Donor left.

So much for Lexapro helping anxiety a damn bit for me.

I told R my kid is out of school for the next 5 days so my time being his shop wench is limited. He knows I don’t like leaving her with my mom. He whined because he was going to have to write up ONE ticket himself, I’m not needed, he’s just a baby.

Now it is 1 am. My kid not having school has freed me from my mental prison of being in bed by midnight on school nights. I don’t know why it is, it has always been like this for me. I can’t breathe if I “have” to get up. I will feel pressured to get to bed, no matter if I am tired or doing something I enjoy or something necessary. The scumbag brain gets all stressed out and insistent that I MUST GO TO BED RIGHT NOW SO I CAN GET UP.

It’s not about sleep, though.

I will probably stay up until 4 am tonight (I am writing and when I am writing, sleep is an annoyance) but I wil wake up with my kid and take care of her and go through the whole day, no nap.

How is that even possible? It’s not logical. And the only differing factor is that I DON;T HAVE TO GET UP FOR ANY REASON OTHER THAN TO GET UP WITH MY KID.

It’s a lack of pressure thing. I don’t like being tied to someone else’s schedule because I never know what my mental state is going to be. It’;s like living with a pillow over your face.

I am a puzzle even to myself.

Now…back to writing about vampires. So the mental health professionals can label me schizotypal. Because liking vampires is totally the same thing as believing in them.

Are there enough asylums, considering all the Twilght and True Blood fans?

(P.S,  Forgive the typos, I am using a netbook and my fat fingers are at war with the tiny keyboard. Also, I am too lazy to fix them because it would involve using the touchpad and I am too uncoordinated to use it properly, My bad.)

Sinking, drowning

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , on October 9, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

It has not been a good day. It’s funny because people always ask, “Why, what happened?”

With mental illness, NOTHING has to happen. Your brain chemicals decide to go wonky and it;s off to the races.

The seasonal affect depression is like a pillow being pressed down over my face.

The anxiety and panic attacks are crippling me.

I am slipping.

I forgot an appointment yesterday for the counselor. You’;d think with mental health professionals they would understand this sort of thing. Instead I am viewed as flaky and unreliable.

I forgot for the first time in 2 years to take my trash to the curb.

I forgot I have a parent teacher thing tomorrow.

My mind is just in a dark place today, watching as I come undone all over again.

My dad called me twice to tell me about jobs in the paper. The people around me really are clueless. I’m falling apart but by all means, let me take on more stress and lie to employers by assuring them I am stable and reliable.

Because what I want to be, what I wish I could be, is not the same as what is. I started crumbling back in August and it has not gotten any better.

But I get treated to news stories about the large percentage of people on disability being frauds, and R standing there agreeing, oblivious he’s insulting me when he says people on disability are lazy cheats of the system.

I never wanted disability. The bottom line that swayed me though was after that reaction to Nardil  nearly killed me and left me with a more scrambled brain…I dont lack desire to be independent, I lack the stability to do it with any consistency.

Not that a monthly income makes me any less mental.

To be surrounded by people telling you something is wrong with you, then sticking their heads in the sand rather than validating you have a condition, rather than just a bad personality…

I really dislike people sometimes.

And today I dislike everything and everyone.

I feel the walls closing in on me. I feel the cold knot of fear in my gut, fear that I am a week away from wearing a tinfoil hat.

Sinking. Drowning. Going under.

Pressure cooked…and baked…and boiled…

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , on October 8, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

It got cold overnight. I went to bed early, but still…Fell in love with the snooze button cos it was too cold to get up. Woke at 8:05, went into full panic mode. Got my kid to school with 0  mins to spare. Panic attack first thing in the morning never bodes well.

Also it means the abrupt change from 90 degrees on Friday to mid forties has my seasonal affect disorder kicking into overdrive.

Morning was uneventful. Picked my kid up. Decided it was time to finally buy food. Went to a different grocery store than usual, the one that is closer but has such long lines I loathe the place. Figured lunch time would be slower. I was wrong.

My kid was bouncing off the walls disregarding everything I said.

This irritating neighbor lady who’s always hitting me up for rides hit me up for a ride, which made me feel rushed to buy my stuff since she was done and waiting.

It just got to be too much. I panicked. It was all I could do to get out with my stuff paid for and my kid in tow. I didn’t even return the cart to the corral and I know that makes me evil but I…couldn’t do it. And I couldn’t make room for the neighbor and her stuff and she seemed to think I was obligated to do so, which caused me more anxiety and my kid was just being a buttmunch and…

I don’t know how I avoided a screaming mimi.

Then  had a quiet afternoon. Until school got out. Then it became crazy again with the demon girls.

Then the kids took off to play elsewhere and hurt my kid’s feelings.

Days like this are just too much. I want a warm shower, clean jammies, and about eight hours in the dark zonked out. I have had a headache all day and Tylenol’s barely making a dent. ENOUGH.

This too shall pass.

God, I hate cliches even when they are true.

Because until it DOES pass I feel like my brain is clawing its way out of my skull.