Archive for December, 2013

Plethora of Suck

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on December 31, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

Spent two days functioning at sub basement level. Meaning, barely. Mood in the gutter, mind cluttered with every negative thought it could dredge up. It amazes me how my mind waits until I am on the precipice of complete breakdown…THEN it decides NOW is the perfect time to reflect on every failed relationship, every failed job, every wrong ever committed. And in an altered state, the damage is immense. I ended up in the fetal position under a blanket two straight nights because I literally couldn’t handle any more consciousness, any more of my own self torture.

Today has been better, though I think mostly due to the fact that if I survive this last day I can kiss the wretched year 2013 goodbye forever. People scoff and ask what I have to complain about, what happened that was so bad, it’s all in your attitude and how you look at it. Okay, well, even at my best I am CERTAIN having my home invaded and my shit stolen is a bad thing. Meds failing is a bad thing. Rampant anxiety and depression are bad things. Bad bad bad all year long for the most part. What happened to be happy about? Oh, right, I am still breathing, let’s have a parade for that miracle.

No one gets it. It’s about mental state because it adds to quality of life or lack thereof. If your mind is encased in darkness, sucking the joy even out of good things no matter how hard you are fighting it, well it tends to taint and color everything. I resent being labeled a pessimist. Because I’ve earned my pessimism by having more bad than good happen. Still, my outlook has been positively great even when waking up to find myself suddenly a single mom- because my mental state was not in this abysmal place. At the same time, I have had times when everything was awesome but the depression drained it all and it was all bad and would forever be bad.

Mental state.

Good riddance to 2013. May 2014 be better. I have no resolutions. I only want meds that work so I can survive. It seems modest yet so impossible a goal.

In my evil moments,I fantasize about mental illness being contagious. So I could just shake someone’s hand and let them take a walk in my world for a day or two. Let them finally see and ‘get it’. It’s mean and yet it’s realistic because until I can find people able to grasp the depth and severity of the illness…I am forever going to be resentful of being dismissed as this jumble of behavioral and personality problems. I have those, no doubt, but everything seems to start and end with the mental stuff I can’t get a grip on. Let my critics walk in my shoes a couple of miles. Maybe I will be more humane and not mock them and push them and make them feel like absolute pieces of shit.

Maybe not.

My mood is not great today. But my head seems clearer, the “you are a loser” thoughts have subsided. The anxiety is a quiet thrum. I have already done the functional facade thing. Get dressed, go out, wash dishes, cook lunch. Hollow little victories but victories just the same. Things others take for granted, things that are like climbing mountains when at war with your own mind, when your mind keeps telling you things are one way when they are another.My contrary mind.

Happy New Year.

I still want a new brain.

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Nails on a chalkboard

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on December 29, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

My kid has been super fussy and argumentative and defiant today. The moment my mood crashed low, she amped it up considerably. She has a gift for doing that.

Now after the 500th tantrum, her voice has become like nails on a chalkboard.

She’s being wretched but I know it’s mostly me. I am nervous and irritable and I feel like the walls are closing in on me and I am smothering. It’s not logical but it is all encompassing. And it’s making me angry rather than adding to the depression.

Once again I had the dishonor of reading a shiny happy people post about about only YOU can control how YOU feel. WHAT THE FUCK? I want to feel normal. I don’t want any of this shit. And I am such a rabid control freak, it’s sure as hell not due to lack of willpower and effort to reel it all in. Nothing like trying to be normal and read someone’s post, which has nothing to do with you personally, and walk away feeling like the world’s biggest loser because you can’t manage something so simple. Taking control of your emotions is easy right?

Not when your brain sends all the wrong messages. All the therapy I’ve had has never managed to teach me to control the bad chemicals because, oh yeah, it’s not possible. Yet because it applies to the masses who don’t have dysfunctional brain chemicals, I end up putting pressure on myself to be what I’m not, bullying myself, and it just makes it all worse.

“You’re just making excuses.”

I hear that in my head. My dad, my mom, my so called friends. The supportive bunch that they are, brimming with empathy and a sympathetic ear.

I am circling the drain. Being reactive and emotional, no doubt. But the mind frame was ripe for it.

I am going through the motions. Appearing functional. Forcing smiles and laughs.

But my mind is a mine field of detonating thoughts and emotions and moods and it feels like living hell.

The nails on the chalkboard are starting up again. It’s too bad I quit drinking. It was always so helpful with the anxiety. Now…only sleep quells it.

My mind, the traitor

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on December 29, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

The roller coaster ride continues. Yesterday I was less low and super functional, at least toward house work. By mid afternoon, spontaneous panic attacks set in. No trigger. Mood went lower. Motivation vanished. Paranoia commenced. Anxiety ran rampant.

I’d had an okay day. Not great but I at least felt like I was accomplishing something and no longer wished for death. (It was almost 60 degrees out yesterday and I keep thinking if that’s what sparked the functional spurt, maybe it’s nothing to do with lack of sunlight, maybe a lack of warmth feeds my seasonal depression.)

To go from that functional to the gutter, hyperventilating every ten minutes for no good reason…It’s galling. It’s offensive. It’s angering.

My own mind, and its fucked up chemicals, is a traitor. It gives me brief glimpse of normalcy, lulls me into a false sense of security, then it changes the damned game on me when I least expect it. Words cannot convey how much I hate it.

I want a new brain.

 

Pointless

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

Survived the hellidays. The price of half ass functionality and survival has been three days in the mood gutter. Low. Down. Sad. Slightly paranoid. Lazy. Irritable.

Suckage.

I’m in a dark place. Not the dark where you want to die. Dark where you’re miserable because the depression is so bad, you don’t see the point in life. It’s all pointless. It all sucks. No one and nothing is a comfort. There’s no hope, no ray of light, no point.

Pointless.

What more is there to say from this mindspace?

A glimpse of clarity

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on December 24, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

After 5 days in the gutter…I was high functioning today. Clear headed, motivated, determined. Hypo manic. It almost felt like waking up from a sleeping pill and having the fog clear.

Clarity is beautiful. No paranoia, anxiety manageable, mood level (if a little low.)

I got my kid’s gifts bought and wrapped.Did hausfrau work. Spent the evening watching Snapped with my beloved Bex. PRAISE THE SQUID.

Long story.

It’s just…weird. My mind is clear and quiet right now. It is all so random, unpredictable, without rhyme or reason. I wish I could maintain this state all the time.

It doesn’t work that way.

The helliday is upon me. That’s gonna be a bitch. The aftermath will be worse.

For this moment..I am just gonna relish the calm and let the storm come when it may.

The Blessed Hellride

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on December 23, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

Another day of mental suckage.

My kingdom to just wake up and not think, “Damn, I didn’t die in my sleep again.”

It sounds trivial. It is not trivial. To always feel like there’s an anchor around your neck , tugging you under the surface of the water, never able to get enough air, always afloat yet yearning for land.

Hellride.

Anxiety and stimuli overload. On the phone, computer froze up, cat climbing my shoulders and my kid in my face demanding I get off the phone and talking the whole time so I can’t hear what my dad is saying…My brain nearly imploded. I am super sensitive to stimulation and so many things going on at once is hard for me to juggle.

Forced myself to scrape off ice and snow and go out.

My mood just stayed low. Even when my kid went to bed and I had quiet and was able to write…It just never improved. Five days in a row. Paranoia has returned with a vengeance. I swear things are moving when they are not. Feel like bugs are crawling on me but I can’t see anything. I feel like I am losing my mind. I am so disjointed and lifeless and in a total downward spiral. I tried to tell the shrink and she just says to push myself. It’s so offensive and frustrating to be asking for help…and get a brick wall of optimism and denial.

Right now, I feel a little hypomanic, my legs are shaking and I am fidgety. An hour ago I was sleepy and lethargic. I have done nothing to trigger any of  it. Nothing, not food, not caffeine, nothing. Nothing catastrophic or euphoric happened around me. It’s so damned random. No rhyme or reason.

Hellride.

One day I am content even though depressed. One day I am despondent and hopeless. But never am I really up or happy. And I am very disappointed because last time on Cymbalta I excelled. It was amazing, even if it made me manic and I spent way too much money and got way too happy. This time…less than nothing. And I am not prepared to give up yet because I know all too well with the seasonal depression and holidays it may not even be Cymbalta’s failure, it may just be up an opponent no med can beat.

Am I even making sense? I have no idea. I’m going crazy, obviously. Maybe I was crazy all along.

Abysmal

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on December 22, 2013 by morgueticiaatoms

I’ve been in the  barely functional grips of the depressive abyss for four days now. Everything is a bloody uphill battle. The anxiety and paranoia have chipped in to make it suck even more. It’s bad when I can’t even work up a good rant for this blog. I just feel like it’s all pointless, hopeless. And I know it’s the depression but it doesn’t change a thing.

I saw the shrink the other day. I had hope for this new one. I was wrong. She upped my Cymbalta (which for some reason isn’t do anything and yet last time it did wonders) and told me no matter how depressed I am I have to push myself and be high functioning. I’m sitting there telling her I’m pretty certain there’s no reason to live…And she says to push myself. Not helpful. If anything it was counterproductive. I ended up feeling like more of a loser because I AM pushing myself and it’s not doing any good.

Part of me thinks pushing myself is what landed me here. I didn’t take a breath after the donor left, I just focused on doing whatever had to be done for my kid, focused on doing what others expected me to do. I didn’t grieve the loss of my marriage. I didn’t come to terms with my illness. I went on auto pilot and spent 2 years pushing myself. And I pushed until I started to crumble and I pushed more and more…Until the illness pushed back and I shut down. Then a so called friend tried to drag me out of the abyss by telling me to push myself…and i tried to please them…and I went further down the rabbit hole.

Pushing myself has not proven healthy or successful.

My kid is testing my patience to a degree that makes me scared. She hits me and screams at me and gets in my face. She tried to stab me with an ink pen. I honestly fear her at times. She displays the hyper aggressive behavior I’ve seen in boys diagnosed with ADHD. I dont want to slap labels on her at four, but I am in over my head here as far as her behavior goes. It is ONLY for me. This is some sort of issue she has with me and for the life of me I don’t know what it is. I’ve done nothing but damn near kill myself trying to be a good mom and take care of her. I gotta be a really horrid person for my kid to hate me this much.

Then I remember she has my genetics and wonder if she’s bipolar junior. And then I get a glimpse at what it must be like for people in a relationship with me. I love you, I hate you, don’t leave me, get the fuck away from me..Up and down and all around. But if it were some sort of imbalance or disorder, it would happen with others. She reserves this side of herself for me and me alone. It wears me down. I have no recourse. I do every single thing suggested, what others do..To no avail. But she’s glued to me from morning to night, she seems to love me, I make her laugh…Its baffling. I am leaning toward counseling, thinking maybe this is related to her father walking out so abruptly and his continued absence.

I just feel like I am drowning. Drowning in responsibility, in emotion, in frustration, anxiety, mood swings, everything. The hellidays do not make it any better. It is going to be a slim Christmas. I am buying for no one but my kid and I haven’t bought a thing yet. Not a thing. I can’t handle the crowded stores. I am gonna do it, but it…It’s gonna be an ordeal.

I didn’t even get dressed today. We had an ice storm and I wasn’t going anywhere so I saw no point. And having been told to push myself, as if what I had accomplished in spite of my depression didnt count, has made me less inclined to fight the depression.

I hate being in the abyss, but it truly is a state of mind. People think moods are just these simple things to snap out of. Buy some pretty shoes, eat some ice cream, all better. It’s not that easy. This is like some drug induced state. It will lift when it lifts and not one second sooner no matter how hard you push or how many shoes you buy. It’s hard. It’s maddening. It’s also lonely to be surrounded by people who just don’t care because they lack the intelligence to get it.

For the first time ever my dad mentioned his grandma who died in an asylum. He asked if I thought maybe it was her genes that made my brother ADHD and my cousin autistic. DUH. He completely blew off the possibility anything is wrong with me. Sure, I’m on disability because all is hunky fuckin dory.

GRRRR.

I think being intelligent and having a mental illness is a curse. People mistake mental illness as being some sort of intelligence deficit. Therefore if you’re smart you can’t be ill. Ass trash.

Low. Low. Low.