Kiss My Crass

My mind seems okay thus far this morning.
My body, on the other hand, is in pain.
Like I have a couple of Oompa Loompa’s with pliers squeezing my ovaries at random intervals.

Oh, god, gross, a woman discussing her lady bits and that nasty girl business, how crass!

Perhaps that is the thing about society that pisses me off most. We want to think of things in pretty terms and completely forget that life, humans, bodily functions- there’s nothing polite or delicate about it. Saying “passed gas” might sound better than the term “farted” but it’s still just one more icky bodily function we all are subject to.

So yeah, I am in shark week pain and it’s not appropriate subject matter, yada yada.
It’s reality.
And it’s why I’ve spent the last ten days crying at the drop of a hat, being pissed off and hurt over everything.
That on top of my mental issues, well, aren’t I the winner winner of a chicken dinner.
Of course, the chicken was left out on the counter for days and is festering with salmonella and maggots…
Oh, wow, I paint pretty pictures. I rock that way.

But as with everything, even in ugliness, there’s beauty and humor and irritation.
Like my kid waking me at 5 a.m. ready to go for her Sunday School dress rehearsal when they lady isn’t picking her up until 10:45.
Was it too much to hope for a nocturnal batchild?
She has taken to calling me her “best bro”.
Sometimes, when I am laying down with cramps, she gently rubs my tummy and sings “Soft Kitty.” (Thank you, Big Bang Theory.)

Life is such a mixed bag and because my own mind is such a roller coaster, I think I have trouble keeping up with the never ending changes and cycles outside my own mind.
It doesn’t help when your brain sends wacko messages so you’re never sure if you’re handling something logically or being nutsy kookoo.
That uncertainty bipolar provides makes you question yourself constantly.
I saw a psychologist (and I have very little use for the anti med set) because my disability review required it…I was terrified, knowing how most psychologists view psychiatry as a pseudo science. But when I explained how life is just so fragile with the cycles and such, he said, “So for everything to work out, it takes the sun, moon, and stars to align.”
And I was floored, because that’s exactly what it’s like.
Your anxiety dies down, your moods start cycling. Your moods stabilize, a depression kicks you in the face.
You win the lottery, then someone hacks your account and steals it all.
There’s no consistency but inconsistency so an alignment of, sun, moon, and stars really is what it takes for life with bipolar two to work well.
Needless to say, perfect alignment in the universe of this disorder rarely happens.

So while I loathe the term “Unstable” as it makes me sound one step from grabbing a meat cleaver and going batshit slice and dice on a bunch of nuns…
It’s my hideous reality.
I resent being judged for it.
I didn’t ask for this.

But then you get to reading comments and message boards and some people really truly do not believe psychiatric disorders are real. They think they are behavioral, all pills are evil and an excuse for being weak.
How do you combat this having an impact on you and making you doubt yourself?
Especially when you see some people who really aren’t chemically imbalanced, just too immature and laden with denial to admit their personality really is the problem.
Self awareness makes you ask the question of yourself: “Is that me? Is it all some excuse I’ve made up to avoid reality with pills and self justifications?”

The bottom line for me is, NONE of the meds I take get me “high”. Happy pills are a fallacy. It takes weeks for some of these meds to kick in and make a dent.You don’t simply pop a Prozac or Lithium and wham life is suddenly easier and happiness is instantaneous.
The fact people can be so ignorant as to view it that way is offensive to me.
While I do have a plethora of personality issues, they would not have been corrected by medication to the degree the symptoms of bipolar have.
If I were simply a person who likes to throw things and scream at others, pills wouldn’t change that aspect of my personality.
Bipolar is not who I am, no one will convince me otherwise with their “pills are evil” propaganda.

Just hit me how all over the place this post is. I should be embarrassed by my inability to stay on topic.
Fuck it.
This is me.
And it’s irritating and offensive…
Kiss my disorganized mood swinging topic jumping crass.

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One Response to “Kiss My Crass”

  1. Lol. Awesome rant. And those mofo oompalumpas can just take their pliers and fuck right off. Bastards.

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