Archive for June, 2014

Missing…My motivation

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

I got up and dressed today. Was going to go to the shop, Bex agreed to babysit for an hour or so. Except she didn’t get up til nearly 1pm (fuck you seroquel) and by then…the heat and all the kids running in and out had me losing motivation. I was determined…and then…I just can’t make myself to do it. In fact, the thought of going outside my door sends me into an inexplicable panic.

The professionals like to spew about triggers and patterns and there HAS to be one, you’re just not seeing it.

There truly is no rhyme or reason to my mood swings, my anxiety, my paranoia. It sweeps in from nowhere for no reason and I try to do battle but nine times out of ten, I fail. I feel these emotions down to my bone even as I try to talk myself out of them with self bullying. Get up and just do it, you loser! Get over it, you’re being a wuss! Don’t be a child, grow up and grow a pair!

I am so sick of this rinse, lather, repeat cycle. So sick of not being able to make sense of it all. I can’t fix it if it doesn’t follow some logic that I can view as dysfunctional and try to correct.

This is where my confusion becomes all encompassing. Am I bipolar or do I just have a bad personality and weak character? They send so many mixed messages. One will say it’s the bipolar or anxiety. One will say it’s my personality and I am not pushing myself hard enough. If it’s both, how do I distinguish between disorder and dysfunction?

Personally, I’m not convinced I have a personality to be disordered. I am my illness. It doesn’t define me as a person, but it taints my every thought and action every minute of the day. If I’m not in my right mind, how can I determine what’s wrong with it?

Clusterfucked.

And I melting in the humidity, my clothes sticking to me, making me even grumpier.

I was fine earlier.

Nothing happened.

Now I am in the abyss.

What. The. Fuck.

Nobody gets out alive anyway

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on June 28, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

Yep. That’s the mental space I am in now. I sit and ponder the sheer enormity of the world and how every tiny cog in the machine has to operate in precise concert for everything to keep going as it is meant to…And I lose all hope that change is even within the realm of possibility. If it takes that much to keep it all afloat, how will anything ever be different?

Some would argue that this is a pessimistic attitude. Maybe they would be right.

Maybe I am right.

I mean, nobody gets out of life alive, anyway. So where is the point in living to die? Why strive for better when it’s all you can do to stay afloat? Fact is, you can cure cancer and AIDS, haveĀ  a gazillion dollars, everything-and at the end of your tour of duty, you go out with a toe tag same as the lowliest cretin on Earth.

Pointless.

I’m not saying I wave the white flag.

Just saying this is one of those days where my mind has wandered into territory it’s apparently too overwhelmed by. If there is no hope to get out of life alive, why am I fighting so hard to survive? What’s an extra 30,40 years with a multitude of mental illnesses dragging you down repeatedly? What’s the purpose of a life with no support system, no empathy, and no one who has the compassion to understand or care. They just want to judge you harshly.

That’s been my experience. I wish it’d been different. I’d love to spew sunshine and rainbows, I really would.

It’s a choice, they say. I call it denial. Life is both beautiful and ugly and in between are the shades of gray. You can enjoy the ride but it doesn’t mean you don’t have your days where the ugly has overshadowed the beautiful and the gray…

Mood disorders are like being under the influence. They taint your every thought, action, reaction, opinion…And a day or week later, the haze lifts and you’re like a totally different person. The thought of 40 more years of this shit doesn’t really fill me with enthusiasm. Yet the thought of not being here for my kid doesn’t sit well, either.

This s a shade of gray, I guess.

To quote a line from a Wednesday 13 song: “Pull the wings off a fly, watch it suffer and die…And I’ll never get out of this life alive..Drenched in blood with no alibi.”

Nobody gets out alive. Nobody. So you take your good, your bad, and your shades of gray and you just try to muddle through.

Even on days when you’re fucked up brain is trying to convince you there is no point and even if there were, you’re useless and don’t serve a purpose so why bother anymore.

Actually…

those are the days when you have to fight even harder to remember…It’s ugly out there but there are some amazing, beautiful things, too. It’s something to hold onto.

 

The longest day

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on June 28, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

Today qualifies for that title. It’s been neverending. The uzi child got me up before 8. She started out on semi auto. Then she went to fill automatic and I am still digging verbal bullets out.

Spent the entire day waiting for my dad and his clan to deliver the bunk bed they bought her. Tick tock. Edge of anxiety. Their schedule is always more important than anything we have going on, including a heart transplant.

They brought the bed, which was so big it had to be disassembled to be fit in her room. Now she barely has room for a dresser. Geesh. Not to be ungrateful, but think before you do. I was thinking, oh cool, it’s gonna be one of those small bunks my sister and I had. WRONG. This thing is so big and clunky it would survive a termite infestation.

My mood held steady all day even if my nerves didn’t.

Finally, wine time came. We went to R’s house and drank with his wife. It wasn’t bad. Until his psychologist daughter showed up and started diagnosing her friends, him, everyone basically. I don’t dispute his diagnosis as it was made almost 20 years ago and fits. But the way that woman has to have the last word on everything, the way she has to diagnose everything and declare everything “behavioral”, including bipolar…pisses me the fuck off. Just because our upbringing made us defective doesn’t lessen the mental disorder that amounts to wonky brain chemicals.

Which is the problem with psychology versus psychiatry. One specialty thinks it’s all behavioral and needs therapy, while the other thinks it’s just chemical imbalance and needs medication.

Meanwhile those of us who suffer from mental illness are left confused and clueless.

Now we are home. Bex made awesome omelets. The uzi finally emptied her clip and went to sleep.

I can’t decide if I want to go to sleep or shower then go to sleep. It was a long day that seemed to never end. Now that I have all this electrical wiring problem and can’t sleep in my own room because there’s no power…I’m at a loss. The wiring is even screwed up in the living room so we can’t listen to the stereo or watch tv.

And I am in paranoid zone where I’d rather gargle bleach than allow anyone into my inner sanctum lest they judge me and set off a whole mental downward spiral.

I’m leaning towards sleep.

As soon as I smoke the rest of this cigarette.

Everyday, I wake up thinking, today will be better.

It rarely is.

Where is my reward in hoping for the best when all that ever comes to fruition is ass trash negative?

I am flawed, I am mental, and I am dysfunctional. But I don’t know the sanest most well adjusted person could convince themselves all is hunky dory when in fact, everything is just a cycle of up, down, good, bad, even worse, and worse still.

Guess I am just deficient in my denial skills.

The sound of silence

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

Day two, my mind has been quiet. It’s nice. It’s a little frustrating because it;s been a little too quiet. As in lack of creative juices flowing.

If only my outside world were so quiet…

The uzi child has been channeling satan all day. Loud, defiant, aggressive. It’s exhausting. August will be bittersweet. I don’t want Becca to go back to the UK but I can’t wait for my kid to start kindergarten. I am hoping a more structured environment with a static full day schedule might calm her down.

I was productive yesterday and today. Yesterday was hausfrau duty. Today was yard work. I don’t feel any great sense of accomplishment though. So much in life is such a rinse, lather, repeat cycle. Neverending. I don’t find that a negative attitude. It’s just realistic.

My mood was okay.

Twelve hours of taking Uzi fire seems to have worn Bex and both down and our moods have crashed. I suppose this is what the professionals would call a trigger. Yeah, it’s a trigger for my anxiety disorder which stresses me out and makes me depressed. I don’t expect a perfect child…Just less…demonic.

But tomorrow’s a new day. It could be good.

And to quote the movie “Wayne’s World”…monkeys might fly out of my butt.

A quiet-ish mind

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

Alas…my mind is quiet. REALLY. Maybe I am just tired but for once…the cyclone of thoughts is absent. I feel accomplished, calm, and content. It happens rarely but it’s happening now. I like it. DO WANT.

It could change on a dime but for now…I’m going with it. Quiet is good in a mind that is so often unquiet.

Okay, shameless self and friend promotion.

The blog of Bex.

My ADD random blog of idiotic musings

And remember…

If you want the voices in your head gone…Announce that you’re going to start charging rent. Those mooches won’t pay for anything and will move out immediately.

 

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paranoid much? again

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , on June 25, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

They’ve been doing work on the trailer next door for three weeks. They asked to tap into my power and I said sure.

Now they’re using a weed whacker and mower on my yard, which the landlord does tack on to the rent. I just mowed two days ago and my kid and I were going to go pick weeds tonight when it cools off.

If it wasn’t good enough, I should have been told. I have no intention of submitting to an extra charge as far as the yard work goes. I’m paying the power bill for power they used. I was not informed there was a problem with my yard or given a chance to rectify it. When the office girl was here three weeks ago delivering a memo, she told me my yard was fine and they had no problem with me.

My anxiety, and irritation, are skyrocketing. I could see it as an act of kindness except the management here doesn’t do shit to be nice. The handymen are jerks.

And all this “fixing up” and tending to the lawns they’re doing…gives credence to what my dad said about their unpaid taxes and how they’re probably going to sell the place. They’ve NEVER willingly fixed anything in the 5 years I’ve been here. Hell, the old handyman started drinking at 7 am and everything he did was in a drunken haze and fucked up. Now suddenly appearance is important, blah blah blah.

Something is up. I am betting it has something to do with the landlord’s snooty wife. She probably considers me too low brow and wants me out no matter how she has to drive me to move.

Yeah, the paranoia is in hyperdrive.

It’s like a runaway train I can’t put the brakes on. Logic matters not. My skin is crawling with anxiety and panic bubbles beneath the surface. I can’t move, I don’t have fifty cents saved up. If they sell this place…I’m screwed. The office girl laughed when I asked about the possibility but I don’t act on the assumption that people, especially well off people, are going to tell the truth. Like it or not, people can be deceptive and conniving. If their lips are moving, they’re usually lying. Even if’s just socially acceptable polite lip service on how the meal was good or your outfit looks nice.

I finally get the mood leveled out and now this shit has to barge in and fuck it all up. Ass trash. Massive ass trash. M-ass trash.

Why won’t my brain just COMPLY?

Reboot successful

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , on June 23, 2014 by morgueticiaatoms

After yesterday’s abrupt crash and burn mood swing…And it hung on for a good 8 hours…I finally slithered off to bed for a much needed brain reboot.

Happy to say, it seems to have worked.

I had to spend the first hour awake battling the cobweb brain but now…I am feeling pretty good. I’ve done a few housework-y things and feel like today might not be an exercise in futility.

The Uzi is, of course, rapid firing out of the gate but what’s new about that.

I am supposed to make a ten minute appearance at the shop to rectify my mistake of not ordering the right parts. Yippee fucking skippy.

I am in no hurry. I need a shower. I suppose the spawn needs one, too. I will throw her in with me, but that itself with be a battle. She hates showers. Then I will have to dig from the mt vesuvius of clean laundry to find something to wear. Oh, joy.

Still…I feel pretty good.

Next post…I am going to go through the basics of cyclothymic disorder. I am beginning to think El Quacko of 4 years ago nailed that one and the other shrinks have opted to overlook it or just stick with whatever diagnosis was in my chart. Cyclothymia seems to mimick borderline and bipolar so it’s not exactly an easy diagnosis to make. I may have to forgive and let go of my grudges.

Grudgingly.

Small victories. I’m out of the abyss today. It may stick, it may not. I will enjoy the time I have and deal with come what may.

Besides. This is just commonplace when a med is increased. First week or so, your moods bobblehead as things get leveled out. It’s irritating but a necessary evil.

Though I’d much prefer if psych meds worked like Tylenol. You have a headache, you take a pill, headache goes away.

Yes, please. One pill to cure all that which ails me mentally.

That’d be fucking sweet.

I’m sure it will happen right after I find that mythical magical unicorn.

And in my current frame of mind, in spite of realistic notions…it seems possible. At least optimism seems possible.

Hypomania sweet hypomania.