Archive for May, 2014


Posted in Uncategorized on May 22, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

Since the last few days have been Bex talk…I figure I should link to her blog. It’s polite to make introductions and all. Blah blah blah.

(Insert sarcastic tongue emoti here.)



FIRST TIME EVER…I don’t think that light at the tunnel end is a train!

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on May 22, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

After sweating blood and tears all those weeks in preparation for B day…It came and went without any trauma. I got lost finding the airport, which was pretty much a given for someone who can’t grasp “Maps for Dummies.” I made it out, even drove him with no dash lights and didn’t get a speeding tickets. Thanks so much, R, for promising to check the car out for me and failing me yet again. Ass trash.

But…It all went amazingly well. We seem to click. Actually, we seem to c0mplement each other like yin and yang. I cooked tonight, she did dishes, there was not even a discussion. It just came to be. If only husbands were so competent.

About the only true anxiety I had when I picked her up at airport was getting lost, then asking directions from a barely english speaking gas station clerk who sent me in the opposite direction. It wasn’t being lost, that’s my perpetual state of being. It was that I promised Bex I’d be there and I was terrified of letting her down. Especially after she got detained for over two hours by some asshole border control agents who thought they needed to interrogate her, then call me to make sure our stories gibed, because who but a terrorist would go spend three months with their friend? Thats crazy talk, according the those idiots. IDIOTS, I say. When they called me I basically snapped, “Yes, I am expecting her, have been for 3 months, and you PEOPLE won’t let her in.” Hopefully even a simpleton customs agent can read my total sarcasm and disdain by using “people” instead of MORONS. She was freaking out, I was having sympathy freak outs…Like all this, they let her out of Britain and ass trash US won’t let her in???? While some dude wearing a shirt that said “Bomb America” probably just swept through? Yesss, that short polite little  brit girl on holiday is a threat to national security, DETAIN her.

IDIOTS IDIOTS IDIOTS. For the record, if powers that be read this, I do NOT feel safer because you detained a harmless foreign person but thanks for making Americans look even dumber than we already do. Great job.

Okay. Rant done.

I have been okay for the most part. Last night was tough though because around 7pm my mood went from pretty good to….deflated. Crawl into bed and cry deflated. I told myself  it was so little sleep over three days, basically exhaustion. And I was asleep before 9 pm (Ha! I still made it 90 mins later than Miss Can’t Adapt to The Time Change or car doors being on the proper side of the car! :p)

Woke up with cobweb brain today, took forever it seemed to peel away the layers. It was so bizarre. Even when I first got married to both husbands after living together awhile, I felt so odd sharing living space. It felt crowded and I felt controlled and stifled. And when I’ve shared space with others like family and friends, it’s felt the same way.

Now it doesn’t. Bex and I mesh, and she says she is liking it here. She hasn’t judged me or my crappy home and housekeeping and for that I am grateful. I was WRONG. It is a pleasant change because so many ass trash people have proven me right. It isn’t really awkward, it just feels natural.

Why, I’ve not once (yet) tried to kill her and wear her skin.

In other news, the shrink upped my Paxil and split it into morning and afternoon dose in hopes of combatting the late day mood crashes. Let’s see if it works. Being depressed when you have everything to be happy about is fucking stupid.

And I think…I am gonna return to marinating in my own sweat. Do you think saying gross things like that is why I don’t have men falling over themselves to sweep me off my feet?

Riiiight. I don’t fucking care. That’s MISS  crazy cat lady to them.


Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on May 19, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

After three months and 12 years waiting…Becca arrives tonight. I have sweat blood and tears all this time because I am just that socially awkward and off my nut.

Amazingly…I got it all done. It ain’t perfect but it’s passable and I can live with that.

Unfortunately, I am still stressing for I’ve had two attacks of my burning nervous stomach aches in the last 3 days. They started when I was 18 and they get so bad I have to lay on a hard floor and just wait it out. I saw various doctors and went through a series of embarrassing icky tests…And they all concurred there was nothing physically wrong with me. I am neurotic and internalize stress so it affects me physically. How awesome is that? (SARCASM)

What if she hates me? What if we clash? What if she is so grossed out by my low standards of house keeping she flees in the night? What if…It’s not exclusive to her, I am this way with most people. Once bitten, twice shy. I’ve had too many people bail out on me when things got rough in spite of my staunch warnings from word go that I am off kilter and difficult. Frankly, I view it more as a statement about them than me. WUSSIES.

(Ha, spell check doesn’t indicate wussies as a misspelling, what will Webster’s add next?)

Social anxiety aside…The worst part is going to be driving to a large unfamiliar place. I couldn’t find my own ass with a map. I am map stupid. Maps for Dummies would be like reading Proust for me. I printed out my directions, to and from, since I get all turned around. I will double Xanax up. Driving in unfamiliar places freaks me the fuck out. I start panicking in heavy traffic with no clue where I am going, in a car that randomly loses power and all but dies in the road…Panicpalooza. And it’s been that way for a long time. The only reason I managed to drive in California was that it was on a straight stretch I’d walked two dozen times so I knew where I was going.The state capitol is about 40 miles for here and I can find Toys R Us, the Mall, and a head shop selling hippie and stoner gear. Other than that…I don’t go unless I have a ride and my favorite store ever, Big Lots, is there. Panic must be pretty bad to keep a woman from her favorite discount store.

I am babbling.

My TV dinner is done. I should eat because I am feeling a little nauseous. Oh, I keep meaning to mention…Since stopping the lithium after 8 months without a tear even when one of my cats died or vanished…I have squeezed out a few tears in the last few weeks. They may claim it’s not a side effect but that’s all the proof I need. Plus, I no longer feel like I have bugs crawling all over me. Psych meds are wicked vicious with the fucked up side effects and if ain’t listed in the pharma company propaganda, doctors don’t believe you. First time for everything, although I doubt it’s a first. I bet a lot of people get tired of being dismissed by shrinks and just stop mentioning how many weird things they have going on with a certain med.

Tummy ache is dying down. Noms time. Goddamn LOL cats have assimilated me. I can haz cheezburger?

Why, why, why, scumbag brain????

Posted in biolar disorder on May 19, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

8:41 pm. Bex will be here by this time tomorrow night. I don’t have things like I wanted them. I have just shut down.

Scumbag brain is back with its paranoia and anxiety. My kid went to sleep earlier than normal. Ya think, well the kid is tired, she ran around all day yesterday at the downtown festival, the played all day with her friends today. Normal.

Not with me, noooo, that would be logical and logic has no place in nutsky kookooland. I’ve been poking that child with a stick since she was an infant. Not literally, but neurotically checking on her when she is aslee. Feeling under nose to make sure she is breathing. Looking to make sure her chest is moving with each breath. Sometimes finding her skin too cool and going into meltdown panic mode.

As I did tonight. Deviation from the norm. Mommy freak out because the voices in my head that I don’t actually have are telling me something is off. God, I wish I heard voices, then this shit would make sense. What on earth causes this shit to emerge at night yet rarely during the day? And why does it paralyze me to the point where I can’t think straight or focus or work in a logical fashion? I am going to regret it later, so why isn’t fear of that trumping the bucket of crazy I have going on at the moment?

This brings back mega depression. Because not feeling in your right mind is depressing. It’s one thing to be sad or nervous. It’s just freaky when you feel like your “spidey sense” is kicking up dust and all your nerve endings are on red alert like you’re in danger. It’s brought on a stomach ache from hell and all I wanna do is curl up in bed and half ass the shit  I gotta do at the last minute. I’ve been judged my whole life, by family, by friends,by myself. I should be used to it. I always fall short no matter how well I do. 12 years of internet friendship is a long time for it to go to hell because she finds my standards of living disgusting. Yes, I am OCD about it. It’s bitten me on the ass every time I’ve relaxed and assumed people would just accept me for me and be glad I’m not their housekeeper.

Fuck. This is not the mind frame I wanna be in. Earlier, I was so excited, so ecstatic. Now…I am dejected. It has nothing to do with Becca’s visit though. This is me, at war, with my own scumbag brain. I just wish I could get my shit together or go stark raving mad and live out my days in a straight jacket on a lock down ward. This middle of the road shit where everyone assumes you’re physically able therefore nothing is wrong with you sucks. There is something wrong with me. This is not normal thought. And while there’s always been a smidge of it there…

It was never this bad or like this before I had my kid. It’s like something in that process scrambled the eggs that act as a brain some more and now I’ve got a whole new element to my Disneyland of mental disorders. And I can’t even say I hear voices because I don’t. I’m too sane to be crazy, too crazy to be sane.

It’s absolute ass trash.

I’m sorry if everything sucks when you get here, Becca. I tried so hard but Brian won again.

Night Is The Enemy

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on May 18, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

That is a fucked up statement for me for I have been nocturnal since I was a child. But as last night proved, towards evening my mind starts going to the dark place and this has been going on for months. The Paxil is doing something because most mornings and afternoons the mood stays up and the mood shifts aren’t so bad. Come 5 pm the descent begins and it doesn’t stop until I am drowning in the abyss of depression, paranoia, and anxiety.

Sooo. Wednesday, shrink day. Dual anti depressant suggestion. It’s the ONLY thing we haven’t tried. I am willing to risk a manic streak if it gets me out of this hole I keep falling into. I want my nights back, dammit. Once the spawn is bedded, night is MY TIME. I am sick of being chased into my bedroom, the safe place, because my mind is going wonky.

Tomorrow is B Day. Because Becca will be arriving. I am excited. The anxiety is there but lesser. I’ve had people visit and run off before. It didn’t kill me. And that’s the worst case scenario aside from her killing me and wearing my skin. (inside joke.) I’m not ready. I have sooo much to do still. I am working in spurts but it seems insurmountable. I am gonna pick and choose what is important, what is crucial, and what is fuckitol material. I’ve forewarned even if she thinks I am exaggerating my crap housekeeping.

I am so not prepared, I haven’t even gotten a map to the airport. And my dad, ever so helpful ‘cos he’s a truck driver, and pretty much knows how to get to Atlantis, starts rattling off route and exit numbers. My brain forgot them ten seconds later, of course, cos it’s special that way.

To top it all off, I think our cat Nightshade is about to pop. She’s loving on Bella’s kittens whereas she was hissing at them. She’s climbed into a box to make a nest. Geesh. Two kittens from Bella, two from Willow, and now Nightshade. She had six last time. None survived cos she refused to feed them. I think it’s cos the kids kept handling them. I am making sure that doesn’t happen now until it’s time. I have no idea what to do with them all. I am like a kitten hoarder. They are so cute and bring me some much happiness, I want them around. They’re walking anti depressants. I’ll figure it out, I always do.

I am definitely back on my game, at least during the day. The newish neighbors kept me awake til 4 am fighting last weekend. So this morning at 9 am I gave my kid a bunch of metal pan lids and set her outside where she performed a concert using them as symbols I am back in troll mode and it’s fun-neh. There’s still some of me in here, under the layers of ass trash mental bullshit. It just vanishing at evening, apparently. Maybe one anti dep in morning, one at night? I’m at wit’s end, gotta try something. Same old ain’t doing shit.

Now…back to wandering about doing this here and that there and hoping eventually I make headroom. If not, Becca is small, I will stick her in this big cardboard box….

It has wifi, btw, Bex.

From 60 to Zero in ten seconds flat

Posted in biolar disorder on May 18, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

Well, not ten seconds flat. It’s been progressive.

But after a day of an up mood and uber productivity on every front…The dark place is calling. That shadow of mental wonkiness where my ear itches and I know people are talking bad about me. My nose itches and it has to be something bad coming my way Superstitions become reality in the dark recesses of an unwell mind. Anxiety swells up, consumes, devours. It feasts upon every nerve ending, causing the paranoia to wash over the like ocean waves hitting a beach.

I am squishy wet sand.

I still have so much to do before Monday. But I  have hit my wall. This is where I stop pushing myself and seek out refuge from reality and my illness. It bothers me that it creeps up like this. That I can be doing sixty miles an hour then wham, loss of power, down to zero. Useless. A therapist would say “Fight it, don’t let it beat you.”

I say, sometimes surrender and retreat are the only courses of action that will have any impact. It’s not giving up. It’s stopping to regroup. I had a good run. 13 plus hours not living in the scary place. Sometimes you learn to take the small victories instead of obsessing about why you didn’t have a big one.

At least I retreat knowing as much as is left..I still accomplished a lot. And I will accomplish the rest. Some stuff may slide but I am too the point where I can’t stress about it anymore.  Social stuff is so goddamn hard. It’s much simpler to live up to my own crappy standards. People say they don’t expect more out of you yet every time I let down my guard and accept that…Some snotball comes along to prove me right. I am told I am the only one obsessing on it but after R’s wife and daughter declaring my house unfit for their precious little L…I have become excessively paranoid and resentful. The teacher from school has been here and she didn’t file any reports about unfit conditions. Which means it has to be passable.

What irks me most is there are way better things to judge me on that my crappy housekeeping. I smoke too much, I like vodka too much, I swear too much, I am sarcastic and mouthy, I am moody, I am impatient, I am high strung, I have too many cats, I am a hoarder…Yet it always seems to come back to my dusty chaos. Yes, I am a broken record. Yes, it is annoying. Yes, I should be smacked upside the head with a pancake.

I have NO idea.

Nustsy kookoo time is back.

The Idiot Queen

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on May 17, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

In two days my best friend from jolly ole’ England arrives. Aside from having a room and a bed for her, I have done fuck all. The room is still cluttered, dusty, in disarray. I have done stuff, like clean out the closet, but…When in doubt, wait it out. If the mood isn’t there, it’s just not.

And this last week, when the weather went from warm and sunny to six days of cold and rain…My depression reemerged with a vengeance. I was a walking zombie of insecurity and neurosis. I couldn’t manage the daily, let alone think of this other stuff.

Today is warm and sunny and I can feel myself making a comeback. I WILL get this shit done. Hell, I feel like I can leave my safe spot and maybe nothing bad will happen.

It’s so weird how this mood thing works. People think it’s a joke and some personality flaw. It’s just so all consuming, though. It really isn’t a choice. If you feel it, you feel it.

I’m not feeling it yet but I have put myself against the clock which means I don’t have the luxury of avoidance now. Now unless I want my beloved Bex to run screaming into the night. Which I am not convinced she won’t do anyway, but that’s my neurotic thing at play.

At the moment, I am in “deer in headlights” mode. Meaning I know I should move but I am going to wait until the car clips me first. Call it motivation by necessity. I get paralyzed this way often.

My biggest problem these days is that my brain is a big scrambled egg. I’ve noticed from my writing that regardless of how well I know the outline, the history, the intention of the storyline, I weave all over the place like a train with no steering. That’s the attention deficit. It’s run riot since I went off the focalin and things have never gotten better. It’s hard to pick a task and stick to it when there are a hundred of them battling for precedence and your mind can’t form any semblance of order. It really is like looking for a needle in a haystack of needles. I need to A, B, C…And my brain starts with Z, then goes to K, then to A, B,C…And I end up accomplishing little to completion but a ton of stuff is half assed done. Frustrating. I wish my brain would work in some sort of logical order. It just doesn’t. I try but it’s a runaway train.

So…I am the idiot queen because I have literally waited until the last fucking moment to do any of this shit and now my brain is refusing to cooperated by placing a logical order on what must be done and what I can let slip. And because I can’t make heads or tails mentally,I am stunned motionless. Idiot queen.

But Bex has known me for 12 years now, I doubt my status as leader of all things idiot is gonna shock her. Hopefully she will love me in spite of it. If not, I will just keep her very drunk for three months so she thinks she likes me. :p