My Little Maniac

Oh, I do remember how much I loved dressing up as a kid. At age 5, I had Wonderwoman Underoos and jumped off the top of my dad’s pick up because I KNEW I could fly.

My daughter…well, I can’t decide if she was channeling Olivia Newton John’s “Physical” today or if it was more like the tune “Maniac” from “Flashdance.” (FYI, her “legwarmers” are actually a pair of my slouch socks stretched to her knees.)

06-16-15_161The REAL moment of pride came when I asked her if she had to pee because she was holding herself and squirming and she said, “No, my friends are mean to me so I am gonna scare them off with my crotch.”

I have NO idea. I swear I am not teaching her this stuff.

She’s been at a steady 7 on the volume dial today. Fits, attitude, whining. I’ve only channeled Satan once. Which is not to say that her thieving little thug friends who pop over 3 minutes, get her outside, then hit her and run off (taking handfuls of our stuff from the yard with them) didn’t have me ready to choke a bitch. I had to take a 0.5 Xanax just to keep from spewing pea soup and my head rotating 180. Then she announced someone outside wanted to talk to me and my panic kicked in cos I hate surprise visits. It was Nancy, wanting help with her computer. Yada yada. Spook told me I was mean because I wouldn’t drop everything to go fix what her internet guy fucked up today. Fine, I’m evil. I also don’t let my friends punch me, cry about it, then keep playing with them only to be hit again. Evil is better than welcome mat.

I had a near death experience earlier. I went to take a sip of tea, had a humidity induced coughing fit, and literally could not catch my breath. I was choking and the panic swept in and I kept coughing and sputtering and all I could think is, I didn’t teach Spook to use the phone to call people because I was afraid she’d prank 911 and now I am gonna die and…You know the drill. It took me twenty minutes to fully come out of the choking/gagging spiel. Freaked out is an understatement.

After giving myself permission to do fuck all…I’ve actually gotten some stuff done today. Did dishes, washed more clothes, even bedding. Haven’t folded anything. Cleaned a cat box, Spook wants to do the other two but is busy pouting atm. I am not sure what this current fit de jour is. I’m to the point I don’t really care. She’s been testy and disagreeable from word go and fighting her is pointless. But I haven’t let her tromp over me, I’ve been sending her to her room and not letting her come out until she tells me what she did wrong to get sent to her room and making her apologize. I may be edgy and a step from covering my ears from the assault of the noise but I am not taking her crap.

I also did something different today and it could just be placebo effect, but splitting the Cymbalta into a morning dose, then an afternoon dose, seemed to ward off the hypomanic jolt and is keeping me from bottoming out mood wise. (Oops, just channeled Satan because she asked me the same thing SIX times and I answered her every time and she kept asking, what the fuck???). Spook and I are fed and bathed. I don’t feel so bad. I even teared up earlier (over an ep of Grey’s Anatomy, I am pathetic) but still…Three or four tears is better than nothing. And this is AFTER reintroducing the Trileptal. Which I only did as a sort of reboot just so when I see the doctor I can say with a straight face whether it’s helping, hurting, or doing nothing. I am NOTHING if not attempting to be fair and give things a fair try. (Yeah, the Latuda proved how well that works out for me, but I am TRYING.)

If I start tanking again, then I’ll know it’s the Trileptal. If not, then it could have simply been too many med changes at once. I know, I shouldn’t mess with the formula, blah blah, but I swear by occasional med reboots. The doctors see no need for it but then again, it’s not their bodies the shit’s infecting. It’s not that I think I am superior. It’s just that I’ve been taking meds longer than most of my doctors have even been out of school. I know ME. And besides. Nothing I do can fuck me up worse than most of their “cures”. Point is, I am back on “his” cocktail, even if I tweaked the Cymbalta into two doses, which was how every other shrink before him was doing it anyway and it never made me manic. His way does.

I think I may be starting to feel things again. Not just the fiction induced tear up. But when I look at Absinthe and Brimstone and goo goo gah gah over the cute little kitties…I actually feel a little warmth inside. It’s a start.

Two less sucky days in a row. It’s miraculous. It’s also precarious. Ya know, the blind squirrel occasionally gets the acorn. I hope it sticks. I am prepared for if it doesn’t. I’m not going to fall victim to a brief “spike” and let hypomania convince me I’m better. The crash always comes after starting new meds and to accept that initial high is fooling myself. I’m realistic that way.

Now…A metaled-the-fuck-up version of Michael Sembello’s “Maniac” from Flashdance, courtesy of Erock and Pellek. In honor of Spook, my little maniac ❤



9 Responses to “My Little Maniac”

  1. “Imma scare em with my crotch!” I love it! OMG hahaha! Hoping tomorrow’s 3 for 3 mood wise! 🙂 don’t use the word ‘maniac’! The asshat that for worked up about *LATUDA* might be lurking ~ Bwahahaha! 🙂

  2. ZOMG BWAHAHAHA…Just you two’s comments…MANIAC MANIAC LET’S GET PHYSICAL! Using her Wonderwoman Lasso to take trolls down.

  3. My Cymbalta is a gelcap and can’t be cut. How are you splitting yours?

  4. Look at that sassy girl wanting to scare them with her crotch. Spook is precious.

    • Tessa, my Cymbalta is the generic duloxetine, and he prescribes 30 mg twice a day so I just take one a.m. then one p.m.

      And thank you, Zoe. I’ll be contacting you to make the “super crotch” cape and costume for Spook. 😉

      On Wed, Jun 17, 2015 at 3:45 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • Oh ok I was wondering how you split them. I take a 60mg and a 30mg, but she is going to write me a script for 90 mg so I turn pay for 2 of them. I had 2 different drs prescribing it. First dr won’t go past the 60 for the Fibro and 90 makes it an anti-depressant. I use Duloxetine as well. Can’t afford the Cymbalta and insurance company wouldn’t allow it anyhow. They are very strict.

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