Archive for March, 2014

So Broken

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on March 31, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

There is a term for those who are damaged. “Broken toy.” I used to take solace by saying “I am bent, not broken.”

That ship has sailed.

I can’t find joy no matter what I do. Everything irritates me. It’s not even something where a week in Fiji would help. This is all encompassing, unrelenting, and inescapable.

I let my kid have friends over ‘cos it’s been a long winter and she needs to play with other kids. Unfortunately, it was the devil girls and within 5 mins, they made a mess, demanded food, and every ten seconds someone was running to me bickering over something. I sent them outside. I thought I could rake leaves while keeping an eye on them. They dumped water all over the leaves thus making it ten times harder to accomplish anything. Every step I took, they were there.

I gave up and brought my kid inside. My nerves can’t take those two girls even in tiny doses.

I am a failure as a mom, as a human, as…everything.

The only thing I accomplished today was dyeing my hair. I used to be very vain and for the entire top of my head to turn snow white…depression is ugly in every way. I forced myself to do it. Now I have uniformly shiny black hair. So in 3 weeks the white can peek out again.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

I am so tired. So fed up.

So broken.


Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on March 30, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

My mood has been gutter level for three days now. Nothing seems to help. It’s like my joy bone is broken. NOTHING brings even a spark of excitement or desire to my mind. I am going through the motions. I am faking it. Pasting on the happy face. It’s just not working. What really pisses me off is that this is WORSE than I was 2 months. Then I could at least focus on my writing. Now even that seems pointless. Try writing a damn storyline when every single idea and outcome not only fails to motivate or resonate, but it bores you. There is nothing not impacted by my current mind frame.

To top it off, as warned, the Paxil is making me sleepy and I feel half narcoleptic. I know coming off Viibryd will take time, Paxil will take time to kick in, I just didn’t realize it was going to mean landing face down for days on end.

I took my kid to see her grandma today. I had plans to do housework, yard work, write, dye my hair…Instead, I took Paxil, got very cold and curled up under a blanket and went to sleep. Then no sooner than I was asleep, kids came knocking at the door looking for my kid. So I went back to sleep again even though my instinct was to fight the grogginess and get stuff done. My reasoning ended up being, other than folding laundry and raking leaves, there is nothing pressing to be done and 6 straight days with a sick kid left me pretty exhausted…

Sounds valid. Except I can’t stop beating myself up for sleeping for four hours. I thought, well, it will make me have energy tonight and I can fold laundry and stuff then…WRONG. I am fighting to stay awake now. Having had a nap, I can only assume this is med related and if so, Paxil and I are not going to be friends. I can’t stand meds that make me somnolent. Reality sucks but dealing with it while awake is my way of feeling like a tough girl. Sleeping your way through life is soo easy. I don’t want that.

Maybe it will go away after a few more doses.

I need a shower but I dont think it'[s gonna happen. In fact, my eyes are so heavy, I may manage to press the publish key before I fall face down into bed.


The Way I Am

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on March 27, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

I am feeling Eminem today. “I don’t know, it’s just the way I am.” I hate rap, generally but I have always had a soft spot for Eminem. I admire the way he’s so unapologetic even when he’s being an absolute dick. I want to be more like him instead of wallowing in societal programmed guilt for every flaw I have that people choose to take as some personal affront to them.

I am so sick of being surrounded by hypocrites saying I can’t accept them for who they are and I am too negative and critical when it all started with their rejection of me for having a mental illness. Yes, I am moody. No, it is not intentional. I get panicked, I lash out because I feel threatened. I am unstable and I do act rather flaky because I’m so often not in my right mind. And rather than accept me as being ill, I get to listen to how it’s my personality, it’s my outlook on life, it’s my temperament, it’s everything but it actually fucking is.

In Pet Semetary it was “Sometimes, dead is better.” In my life, it’s “sometimes, alone is better.”

I am having a BAD mental day today. The brain zaps from coming off Viibryd have begun and I feel sad and angry and unfocused and frankly, a little schizo. But rather than get an ounce of understanding, I get told I am a disappointment and a flake who lets my problems get the better of me by choice.

In this instance, I wish I could be exactly like Eminem and tell them to suck my dick. Crude and offensive but no less the truth. (I wonder how many readers will run screaming into the night because I said something so disgusting,ha, meet me in real life, that’s EXACTLY how I talk and I don’t apologize because if foul language is my worst sin, I should be so fucking lucky.)

I am not in good shape, at all. My scalp is crawling again, itchy and giving the illusion of bugs. Then I get ZAP ZAP ZAP deep in my brain every ten seconds or so, which is uber fun. NOT.

I keep trying to take the high road and remind myself this too shall pass but for the moment, I’m living it and IT SUCKS.

I am broken out in hives, to boot. Started at bedtime last night, just started spontaneous itching and breaking out in red splotches. My kid had a rough night again, so maybe it’s anxiety from worrying about her. Or I am really just this much of a freak.

Freaks need love and acceptance,too.

Ha. More likely to find a damn unicorn.

So maybe my attitude does suck. I wonder if I wasn’t in a depression and withdrawal, sleep deprived and stressed out, if things might seem less grim to my mind.

Oh, but nooo, that’s just logical we can’t have that because it doesn’t allow people room to pass judgment on me. It’s so much easier to believe I am a waste of space than to entertain the notion my illness really does get this bad sometimes and it taints everything.


Well…Plus side, I was watching an episode of Bones and found a song I liked so I bought it from Amazon. That cheered me up for 2.3 seconds. Until I realized downloads used to be 99 cents and now they’re $1.29. Greedmongers can’t figure out why people download illegally. Stop making it so expensive to be legit, damn it. Yeah, I know a buck is cheap, blah blah blah. It’s the principle.

My Paxil should be filled by tomorrow. Maybe that will start a new chapter for me, it could work. I gotta have hope. It’s all I’ve got at this point.

And if anyone says “You have your kid and your health” I am going to have to put a voodoo curse on you. You could have the holy grail and in a depression, it only makes you more depressed because joy eludes.

Anhedonia it is called, the shrink said. Inability to feel joy from anything. I may be the posterchild right now.

****I am pondering sanitizing this post because I know my language is offensive to some but ya know what? If swearing runs off followers, then maybe I don’t want them following me. Because I am a flawed human being who is very emotional and sometimes that emotion comes out as anger and i swear accordingly. Take me as is or leave me.


The Moodpire Diaries

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on March 27, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

It never ceases to amaze me how I loathe all that is mainstream and popular and yet I have a popculture brain. Watching the Vampire Diaries is like my filthy little not so secret. I won’t feel ashamed because I like it but I do feel a little cheesy ‘cos face it, the soap opera-y ness of the show is cheesy. But we all need a little bit of vice,don’t we…

Moodpire. Not that different from a vampire. They see or smell blood and go a little bonkers. My mood shifts, I go a little bonkers. It’s all relative.

Fill in shrink turned out not to be so bad. He was young. And friendly. And he had REALLY white teeth. I think I stunned him when he started to prattle off ideas about anti depressants and I flat out told him I want to give Paxil another whirl. Maybe I am too assertive.  But as much as I can defer to their education and experience I have ZERO qualms giving my two cents worth because it’s MY life. Some might call this overly aggressive or disrespectful. I prefer the term proactive. I have tried every SSRI known to man. But Paxil, that was one I tried back in the 90’s, right after I’d had surgery, and it made me anxious and gave me insomnia from hell so I gave up on it…Now I am thinking maybe the surgery left things out of whack and I didn’t give it a fair try. I’ll give it another whirl.

He agreed then ordered me to get the lithium level done soon because it might be to blame. Fair enough.

Did I mention he had REALLY white teeth? This tooth whitening craze kind of unnerves me, I don’t like talking to people when I can’t focus on anything but their pretty white fangs.

I actually spent time talking to my mom and sister. It was grueling, not because they were evil, but because my brain and the panic were. It just makes everything so difficult when ground control is sending all the wrong messages.

I came home and drank vodka with my beloved wench .

Who passed out on me. My kid zonked out. I am alone now, if you discount the closet full of newborn kittens.

My dad called to inform me I got him in trouble with his woman when I bitched about him bitching at me. She yelled at him for picking on me. HA! She’s not even my blood and she gets what an ass he can be.

R wants me to come in tomorrow. He texted me a couple of times today wanting me to do something for him in spite of me plainly telling him I was booked today. I’m getting puked on by my kid four days running and it’s all about his needs. Classy.

It’s windy out, I can hear it whistling outside the window. creepy. Pop culture freak girl me wishes it was an omen for ghosts or demons. SOMETHING INTERESTING. Because mundane, while good for holding panic attacks at bay, is really fucking boring.

I must sound mad as a hatter.

I don’t care.

To quote Bobby from Supernatural: “Shut up, you Idget.”


Feeling Megadeth-y

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on March 26, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

Yeah, Megadeth’s song  “Angry Again” was written for the way I felt upon waking today. Oh, it’s subsiding now that I have plied myself with a double dose of Xanax but I’m still pissed off about every tiny thing. Like having to take xanax at all, let alone doubling up.Why do I have to deal with a plethora of displaced emotions? Whose Cheerios did I pee in? Suckage.

Last night was awful. I don’t even know what to call the episodes other than “sleep paralysis.” I laid awake an hour and then from nowhere I’d be like awake…then suddenly, I’d be asleep but aware and I wouldn’t be able to move a muscle and panic would set in which would bring on smothering sensations. I’d manage to claw my way out, sweating and panting…And WAM. It’d happen again. I counted TEN times it happened. Once, I was in some unfamiliar (but posh house I wouldn’t mind living in) and the front door was wide open and all I could think was, my kid, gotta get to my kid..But I was paralyzed and I couldn’t move and I was fighting with everything I had and soooo terrified and it was so vivid and real…

I resisted medicating though, just kept fighting my way out of it and trying to calm down. I was honestly so terrified, I came close to waking my kid and putting her in bed with me because mommy was that scared. It’s been a long time since the sleep paralysis thing happened. It was awful.

Today the anxiety is in full swing. My skin feels like its crawling.I am sweating buckets in spite of being cold. Spook is home again but she’s going to my mom’s so I can see a man about some anti crazy pills. But I’m so angry and confrontational I’;m half afraid he’s going to say something to set me off and watch me burn bridges like the emotional arsonist I am. Shit.

I’m wondering if all this is tied in to going off Viibryd. I can’t see how one missed dose could do all of this, though. Not to mention they are 40 mg tabs so it’s not like weaning off is going to be all that easy without chopping them up and hoping the dosing is correct. I’d rather rip the band aid off.

I forgot I was supposed to have my lithium levels done today. Fasting test. Genius that I am took my dose last night then…ate. I can’t get i right, I just fuck up everything I touch. I have no focus, no clarity.

My give-a-damn is busted.

My mind is just overactive with thought, my central nervous system firing wily nily. I don'[t feel well. I feel paranoid and suspicious and actually…scared. Fight or flight response is in the wings and it wants to send me into the stratosphere.

Maybe I need to listen to some Megadeth or Black Label Society. Aggressive angry music cheers me up.

Tonight, though. I drink. Screw this good girl thing. It’s been six solid days of stress and mood anarchy. Bottoms fucking up.

I’ll berate my own poor coping mechanisms later.

Disturbed As Fuck

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on March 26, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

I’ve done shit today but some dishes, take out trash, and deal with technical problems on multiple computers. Everything I touch has been shit. I hate everything. HATE IT. I am so fucking hostile and angry I can barely stand it. This is what demonic possession must be like.

My scalp is crawling with anxiety, which is making me pissed off.

I am watching a show and it keeps fucking buffering every ten seconds, and that is pissing me off.

I am worried about what to do with the cats and my dad called to bitch at me and tell me to rake up the leaves, my yard looks like shit. Which is the one thing the landlord hasn’t mentioned because it’s still cold and we just had snow so I think he GETS that it’s not yard cleaning weather just yet.

Not to mention I’ve been cleaning up puke for three motherfucking days so excuse me if leaves in the yard are low on my priority list.

Tomorrow, I get to see the ass trash fill in shrink who may be a good guy or a complete douche and most likely he will say, stay on your current meds until you see your regular doctor…NEWSFLASH. I didn’t take the Viibryd today and I’m not taking any more of that shit. I’m semi suicidal and homicidal which I wasn’t prior to being on it so I’m gonna make an educated guess even though I lack all the fancy letters after my name…it’s making me worse.

That is pissing me off. Positive thinking can bite me,too. I got out of bed the other day thinking all was normal and since then, it has been one chunk after another reality has been biting off my ass. That too is pissing me off.

To keep it simple everything is pissing me off.

God, last time I was this violently angry I was pregnant.Since that requires human contact though it’s not the explanation this time. This is all me and my fucking depression that has become a goddamn psychosis.


My kingdom for some fucking alcohol. That’d get me piped down fast. No cure, but calmer would be better.

Least my kid is asleep for this portion of the day. She kept fish sticks down tonight and her fever is gone so I am hoping she will feel school ready come morning. Though will I feel like bothering getting her to the bus…It all feels like trudging uphill in molasses with giant shards of glass protruding.

I just want to be in a different mental space, ffs. I can’t cope when I am feeling like a big green rage monster. And why am I feeling like a big green rage monster?

WHY is the sixty four thousand dollar question. Why am I stuck dealing with any of this. To be denied simple sanity seems a pretty crappy hand to be dealt. But I am supposed to put on a smile and pretend to like it and be a good little girl because life is hard and no whining allow.

Fuck that.

I’m hosting whine-a-palooza. Bring on the glow sticks.

Kill me now. Please.



Hell Day

Posted in depression with tags , , on March 25, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

I took my sick kid to the dr today. She was screaming in pain so she wouldn’t let me bathe her or brush her hair and while I’m okay with that since I barely care sick or not about my own hair and stuff…You get to this posh office with all these parents who are so together and their kids look like shiny new cars all polished and pristine…I felt like a shit mom and I was good and pissed off and ready to snap. YOU spend the night with a kid spewing from both ends and see how well rested and organized you are.

Oh, wait, some of them probably did spend the night like that and still managed to do better than I can at my best.

She has a dual ear infection again. The nurse told me it was bacteria trapped from her not blowing her nose properly. THEN in comes the uppity doctor who says it’s all cigarette smoke, that’s the only cause of ear infections. Even if you smoke outdoors,it’s still on your clothes and breath so you get it on your kid and make them sick. Odd how my mother smoked around us and we didn’t get ear infections. They change it to something new every decade or so. Except smoking’s been blamed for everything for 20 years now and it’s gotten old. I wonder what the cause is for kids who don’t have bad parents who smoke. Maybe mom uses PineSol and the fumes are bad for kids….


My kid then  made this miraculous recovery. “I want ice cream.” “Take me to see Grandma.” “Give me this.” “Go here.” She’;s a dictator and I tell her no but she still pulls that shit. And it makes me feel like a fucking prisoner. I feel held captive by my controlling 4 year old (On the next Maury!)

Got her home and she tried eating…And became Linda Blair, minus pea soup. Can’t even keep water down. And I am trying to be empathetic because I feel (or would if lithium let me) empathetic…

THEN the landlord’s wife, who hasn’t shone her face here in FIVE years, suddenly has taken an interest in the property and put on this polite “Oh, look at the pretty kitties” speech before telling me to have my cats hauled off and stop feeding any that hang around. Five years I’ve been here, not a word said, and now this woman parades in and makes edicts. Most of them are feral, the shelter won’t find them homes, they’ll be put down so don’t stand there and pretend you care, bitch. I hate when people butt in and disrupt my status quo. Some of those cats were here when I moved in, for fuck’s sake. She even suggested I put the ones that are mine back indoors, because re-potty training them is so easy. Never mind them destroying the inside, let’s not have them outside. It looks tacky. FUCK OFF AND DIE.

I was already down and my angry paranoia on overdrive, but the day has just chipped away at every vestige of sanity I have. I am more depressed now than I was six months so fuck you Viibryd, and how well I handle the ups and downs and stressors depends on my mental state. So…

I’m flying apart and mental shrapnel is everywhere. Plus the anger, it’s overpowering, I just hate everything violently.

I am supposed to register her for kindergarten tomorrow.I can’t send her to school spewing. I can’;t get anyone to come watch her cos they don’t want to risk catching the flu. So tomorrow is fucked before it’s even here, my hands are bloody well tied.

My writing has been shit. I can’t look at my cats without blinding rage because they make me think of that woman. I can’t enjoy a smoke because the doctor’;s in my head telling me I am a bad mother and enjoying that cigarette is going to make koala embryos sick, too. Okay, my brain is overloaded and being stupid but still.,…

this day has been shit.Hopefully my kid feels better by Wednesday because I don’t think mommy skipping the shrink appt is a good idea. I think I need it desperately.