Archive for April, 2014

Bottle this (mania)

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

I’ve gone manic. The good kind. Productive. Just tearing into stuff I have been putting off because it feels me with dread. I am trying to pace myself so I don’t crash and burn.

I guess the Lithium made a difference in the cycling. I am now all over the map. I am going to see if time changes anything. I love the mania. LOVE it. Except the bad mania which results too often in mornings of “WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO LAST NIGHT????)  Seriously, if mania could be bottled and sold, people would give up coke, heroin, and meth. This shit rocks. It’s dangerous, though. Which is why doctors are reluctant to give bipolars an antidepressant. But if you are bipolar two with more depressions than manic episodes, there’s little choice. You have to risk it or end up in a looney bin, or worse, a suicide statistic.

My mind is spinning. As evidenced by two posts in one day. I know some find that irritating but oh well. I find everything irritating. I vent and I move on. Such is life.

I feel like I could tackle anything right now. But it’s just a short burst of mania that will fizzle out. That’s the bummer. Ignorant people say it’s being pessimistic but if you’ve been through it enough, you know it’s simply the nature of the beast that is bipolar.

Now, back to a rousing round of Kitten Deathmatch. I lied when I said I can’t feel joy. I do feel warm and fuzzy watching these fluffalumps. I am mooshy when it comes to cats.

Sometimes I wish I could feel that for people. But too many knives in the back sever your warm fuzzy feelings for your fellow human. You keep hoping it will be different next time…It never is. I keep trying. They say never give up. They also say idiocy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.

I think…it’s all ass trash.

Life is a catch 22 from hell.

At the moment, though…As mania dwindles down…I’m resigned to taking it one hour at a time. Cyclothymia doesn’t leave much choice.

Triggered

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , on April 29, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

My day started in a good mood. Manic, almost. I went to the shop and of course R and Kenny were in bad moods. Ha! It never fails, even with my beloved Bex, ass trash . And while she gets it, the others around me think I am being a mocking bitch, as if to say, “Look, you’re down and I’m happy about it.” Can’t get it right.

After I came home (I only stayed an hour because that’s as much human contact as I can stomach) I got a knock on the door that sent my anxiety soaring and my OCD into hyperdrive. My place with cited by the code inspector for too many cats and a messy yard. Ass Trash.

I’ve picked it up three times. The kids just bring their trash and leave it in the yard. The cats, well, I have gotten rid of three, ffs, and I put mine inside. I can’t do shit about the ferals. And the maintenance man/devil incarnate said, “Well, I’ve been setting traps and I’ll bring my dog over here to tear ’em to shreds.” IDIOT motherfucker. Hate people like that. You’re fine with a dog, but you have issues with cats? You’re okay with animal cruelty? Waste of oxygen, as far as I am concerned.

So now I am jumpy and paranoid and my brain is obsessing about it non stop. I TRY so fucking hard. I can’t get it right.Reminds me of my old apartment, after my near death from a med interaction and week in the hospital. My idiot landlord said my housekeeping was bad. DUH, I have lower standards than someone who lives on the ritzy side with a fucking maid. He made me get an independent living advisor to keep an eye on the place. She, and her boss, came in over and over and said it looked fine to them. He evicted me.

Can’t get it right.

I try. I fail. I wonder why I bother.

And the kicker is all these people who are so willing to pass judgment refuse to acknowledge my illness is legit and I might occasionally need some help during the depressions so things don’t get out of control. I’m willing to admit I am in over my head sometimes. I even offered my sister money back in August to come help me and she refused. She’s too tired.

Ass Trash

This is the stuff that leads me to despair. I am willing to ask for help, no one is willing to lend it. But they are sooo fast to judge and criticize. Weird thing is, if I purposely walked into a tree chipper, I’d have visible wounds and they’d all clamor to help. But mental illness isn’t real in their world, it’s a character flaw.

Is it any wonder I prefer the company of cats and kids? They don’t judge.

Another irritation…Now that I am on the mood upswing, suddenly R wants me around the shop. Cos Kenny is working and he has no company, and my current mood amuses him. Yet during my darkest hour…He didn’t want anything to do with me. Kinda like when we lived together.I’m good as long as I’m not sick, then it’s time to shun me.

I sometimes wish I could sue them all for the emotional trauma they inflict. They’re clueless as to the damage they do. Intentional or not. I mean, how the fuck do you think you get damaged and have personality disorders and unsavory traits? Usually because something has happened often enough to brainwash or traumatize you. Or people ostracize and fail you over and over again. THEY do the damage and I am the one stuck with all the dysfunctional labels and it’s me who has to clean up THEIR mess.

I am not absolving my own faults. But I sure as hell didn’t give myself an inferiority complex or fear of people. That would be nine years of being called names, spit  on, and bullied for no reason other than I didn’t fit the redneck mold. You move on, but you never get over it. I am the posterchild for “bullying is not “kids will be kids”. It is NOT harmless.

Nor is being rejected for having an illness.

Ass  trash.

****Did I link to you enough, Rebecca? :p

Upswing

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on April 29, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

My mood went into the gutter last night. Like in bed at 7:30 pm gutter. Then my mind began to race. So I took a double dose of Xanax. And zonked. Only to wake at 4 a.m. and be  totally coherent and unable to get back to sleep. I finally fell back to sleep..Ten minutes before the alarm went off. Needless to say, I hit snooze until my kid pretty much missed the bus. OOPSY.

My mood lifted though and I accomplished several things today, things that I had been dreading for months and I just tore in today and got it done. I do things strangely, I guess, but I have to work in my own way. Which is little increments otherwise I get overwhelmed. It may sound nutsy kookoo but it’s what works for me.

Returned some calls that I had been putting off because, uh, I began to panic when I picked up the phone. No idea why, they’re friends I talk to all the time. I just get weird like that.

Other than that…Uneventful day. It’s good when a mood goes on the upswing after crashing *that* low. I was in “death is better than life” territory. Which still freaks me out no matter how many times I am in that space or how many times I survive it. I worry about the one time it completely brainwashes me. I fear that more than actual death. The brain can be pretty convincing when sending out faulty information. Kinda like Windows Vista. Unreliable.

I’m off the lithium and the nausea is totally gone. BUT my kid said she didn’t like me earlier and I was totally numb. At one time that would have truly hurt me and put me into tears. Now she might as well be telling me about the weather. Is it apathy or just growing a thicker skin? Because if this is what I have become, emotionless except for anger, then I am screwed. I’ve become the very thing I hate. I can’t stand people who bury emotion like it’;s some dirty little secret and I especially despise people who simply don’t have the capacity for emotion.

Yet here I am, chiseled in stone emotionally. After a week, it stands to reason the lithium should mostly be waning. Yet I am still…like this. Disconcerting, to say the least.

I mean, one of my cats found a new home, and it’s a good home, but back in the day saying bye to a cat made me bawl my eyes out. Today, numbness.

I wouldn’t mind if my toes were numb because Voodoo is chewing on them and kittens have really sharp fangs.

Blindsided

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

Today started with motivation and energy.

Then I picked my kid up and my energy reserve and motivation have dwindled to nothing. Because she never lets up. She needs constant attention and has to feel every spare moment with yapping. While this may be normal for children her age, I’ve had other parents tell me she takes it to a psychotic extreme. It is not me being too irritable or intolerant. I’m just out of spoons. Which is why I get so down every single night. With no energy or motivation, it makes sense you feel ready for bed.

This isn’t just an energy decrease like when hypomania ends. This is a complete mood deflation. First one in days. I think maybe this is things leveling out without the lithium on board. It’s maddening because I told my dad this morning I was feeling like a million bucks.

Now I feel like a tarnished penny that was left on the railroad tracks.

My anxiety and irritability are through the roof. I’m not interested in anything. Not writing or music or watching shows. I feel restless and I just want it to be morning again because that seems to be my golden hours. Which is bizarre since my brain doesn’t work til afternoon. Guess my body is on a different clock.

It gets so old. Same thing every day. Rinse, lather, repeat.

Every time I think things are looking up and am cocky enough to utter it aloud…Bipolar punches me in the face.

I try to punch back but I apparently hit like a girl.

Cycle of Suckage

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

Earlier, I was half manic, full of energy and motivation. Now my kid is at my mom’s and I don’t want to do a thing even though I know I HAVE to tackle my spare room and it’s hoarder stash. The mood crashes are random, inexplicable, and they piss me off.

Add to it my mother’s criticisms (“You know they can take your kid away if they see that room all cluttered.) Then after ninety minute (“Don’t you have that room done yet? You should be done by now.”) Geesh. The woman chips at your self esteem like a chisel to stone.

The counselor says I am too concerned with pleasing my mother. No, that would be impossible because NOTHING makes her happy and what does make her happy won’t in an hour or two. Pleasing her is impossible and has never been my concern. More to the point, and dad and my sister will back me on this, I just want to keep the peace to avoid her taking a chunk out of my ass with her pit viper verbal attacks.

THAT is where my parenting trouble begins. I don’t want to be my mom, always griping and running my kid down. So when I correct her I feel overly critical and I back down.

Ha! I figured out my own primary issue without needing a counselor’s help.

Now if they could just be wrong enough to point me in the right direction of how to cope with this cycle of suckage..I’d be good.

The Beauty of Hypomania

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

It was bound to happen. Coming off Lithium, increasing Paxil…Mania. Not the bad kind that’s out of control, though. The GOOD kind where your productivity shoots through the roof, your focus is dead on, your motivation is high. I LOVE hypomania.

I had a GOOD day. It happens once in a blue moon. Braved the grocery store. Did dishes. Cleaned catbox. Folded laundry. Cleaned out the car. Picked up the yard. Cooked my supper ten minutes ago. (No one mentions in parenting class that sometimes kids keep you so busy you don’t get supper til 9 p.m.) Yard full of kids of course but they didn’t overstay so that was good. One of them bit my kid, though. Who turned around and bit the kitten cos “the friends in my head told me to.”

Why am I the only one she shows the satan spawn side to? Everyone else thinks she has a halo and wings. Biting kittens is not angelic in my book.

I am IN LOVE with the kittens, Voodoo and JuJu. They are sooo adorable. Month ago, all I saw was more responsibility hanging around my neck. Now I can feel the happiness of just watching Kitten Deathmatch. It’s beautiful.

I no longer feel like I have bugs crawling on me. Thank you, lithium.Also, fuck you very much.

I am sure the hypomanic burst will be gone by tomorrow. That’s why I am considered cyclothymic or bipolar 3 if you want to go there.  The criterion for bipolar says you have to be manic or depressed for so many days in a row. I have months of depression, but the manic episodes, good and bad, are sporadic at best. My mood goes up and down by the hour. No rhyme or reason. No triggers. Just runs in brief cycles. So when I say it will end, I am not being pessimistic. I’ve just lived it so long I know how the cycles run.

My dad, who seems to be obsessed with The Donor, told me today, “**** should have known what you were like, he lived with you before you ever had a kid or got married. I’ve lived with you, no offense, but you’re difficult to live with.”

My jaw is still agape.

Now because he’s wrong. I AM difficult to live with. I consider cohabitation oppressive and it robs me of autonomy. What got me bent was…The man worked 6 days a week right up til I moved out. WTF does he know about living with me? I’m not exaggerating. He was never there. So him voicing that particular opinion is kind of like men judging the legality of abortion. Until you’ve been there, shut the hell up.

THEN they stopped by and my dad asked if I wanted to come over tomorrow. And my douchebag brother says, “She can’t, she doesn’t have any money.” Pure smarm.

While true, I am broke, that arrogance really got my panties in a bunch. He’s 19, still lives at home, and mows lawns to earn a hundred bucks a month. I have a partial income, a ton of bills, and a kid to take care of. Again, if you ain’t been there, STFU!!!!

My family makes me nuts. I wish I could see like twice a year. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Plus it would cut down on the assault to my confidence. I’m 41,ffs, I don’t know why it bugs. I mean, I don’t lose sleep over it but it sticks in my paw like a thorn and it makes me resentful and avoidant.

Bygones.

All in all…A pretty decent day. I feel like I have my mental health back. It’s shaky, but I figure people live in California with earthquakes as a constant threat, I can work with this mental state. Until it cycles to a different space.

Then I may wind up in a clocktower with a rifle. Or in a looney bin begging for shock therapy.

You never know with me. I’m quirky that way.

Lithium no more

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on April 24, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

Miracle of miracles, the shrink heard me out and agreed I can quit taking the lithium. The Paxil is being increased and hopefully the Lamictal will stabilize the moods. She claims Paxil will help with the uber anxiety but it’s been a month and I’ve not noticed any lessening. If anything my anxiety has skyrocketed, which is always does during warm months when people are out and about. People make me nervous. Kids make me more nervous when they come in swarms.

My kid did not go to school today. I took her to the doctor. She has a dual ear infection. Again. This time, the doctor says it’s due to allergies. Now my kid has to take daily meds for that. Because I don’t have enough trouble keeping track of my own meds. Though I have vicious allergies myself so she inherited my junk dna.

Mom babysat while I went to the doctor. She informed me I need to get my shit together, make more money, and move because this is no life for my kid. It irked me because it’s not like her and dad did much better for us growing up. Hell, they moved us ten times in the same town before I was ten because they kept running out of money and needed a cheaper place. The house they finally bought was roach infested with bare plywood floors that caved in when you walked. Funny how she forgets that stuff. Given trailer park life isn’t optimal but I’m not the one who has  a problem with it. Seems to be everyone else who can’t deal with my address not being fancy enough. I figure we have what we need, we don’t do without food or power or clean clothes. Plus this place allows pets and that counts for me. So my mom needs to piss off.

Of course dad says the same thing and is turning the screws for me to move to his tiny hick town because it’s “better for kids.” Whatever. A resentful mom who hates where she lives would not be good for a kid. I know because I had one. When he moved us to that armpit of 144 people, my mom was so unhappy she became a miserable nasty bitch. Doing what is best for someone else to your own detriment just breeds resentment. Anyone who thinks that’s better for my kid is an idiot.

The counselor says my problem with my kid, aside from mom undermining me, is lack of confidence. Ha ha ha. Well you spend ten of your most formative years being insulted daily, it doth tend to give one an inferiority complex. Plus she’s my first and only kid and I am terrified of screwing her up. I don’t care if I make her mad. She doesn’t like the word no. Well, if it’s between her liking me or getting electrocuted from sticking a form in a socket…I welcome the hate. I think my big thing is…my mental issues taint everything including discipline. I worry that inconsistency, no matter how unintentional, is going to mess her up in the head.It does lend to insecurity. If confidence were something easily attainable, none of us would be going to therapy, we’d be out at Wal-mart buying kegs of self esteem. Duh.

R wants me to come to the shop tomorrow. I already feel like I can’t breathe. So oppressive. But my car is running like shit and he’s the mechanic so I will suck it up. Funny how it ran fine for four months until I started going around him again. Maybe he’s a car hex.

Or I bought a lemon is more likely. Which he recommended.

That’s what going out into the petri dish gets me. Crashed into and forced to buy a piece of crap I was told was in perfect working order by a so called friend.

I prefer my kittens, Juju and Voodoo. They can’t lie.