It doesn’t matter how old I get or how many hellidays I survive…I always end up feeling disoriented. Holidays throw a wrench into the normal suckage workings and then I get confused as to what day of the week it is. Today feels more like a Monday than a Saturday and I am confused as what to do with myself. What do I normally do on Saturday? Oh, right, not much unless it’s yard sale season.  It’s a little like waking up from a Trazadone coma. Yet I won’t take that shit anymore.

Yesterday was utterly boring yet peaceful and that was needed. I finally showered, Spook got to test out her bath paints.(She only had one warbling fit the entire day, but it was disturbing when she started bashing her head against the wall.) We ate leftover chicken and noodles (I siphoned some from the family batch cos we never get any, they go so fast.) Mom and dad both called to do the polite “merry christmas” thing. Otherwise…Absolute blissful mommy-and-spook time. It just felt so…boooring. I mean, she had all that new loot to entertain her. With my mental state as of late, I could win the lottery and buy an old school Pac Man arcade game and still be disinterested and meh. Because what I really want is a quiet brain with some semblance of organized thought and that cannot be purchased.

Mostly I binged on Scrubs (enjoyable but certainly didn’t “cheer” me up) and fretted about my shrink appointment on Thursday. I always get nervous right before an appointment and especially with this doctor and his “you’ve tried everything” attitude. Like I am unaware of that factoid. Like I don’t live and breathe and die a little with each med failure. So round and round my brain  went all evening trying to rehearse an assertive  but polite argument in favor of going back on Lithium. (Hell hath frozen over indeed.) Geesh, I miss the days with Dr. M who never made me nervous or feel like a failure. That’s fucking sad. ONE decent psychiatrist in 23 years of treatment, out of TEN doctors. And sadder still is how common this is with a mental health diagnosis.

Not sure what is on the agenda today. The child is on rapid fire mode, Uzi style,  and already the noise has me ready to chew my arm off. I should totally clean but I am thinking  maybe another day of holiday recovery is required. THIS. This is why I am such a loner, such a homebody. Because existing in the dish, at the fast pace that is normal to others, basically melts me down and it takes so much time to bounce back. It’s like having elective surgery you’ll need six months to recover from even though the condition isn’t going to kill you. Can you just live with it or do you really want to spend six months recovering from what isn’t necessity? I don’t know how better to explain it. Maybe my family is right and I am just anti social.

Though their usage of the term is very different from the clinical diagnosis. Lots of people are very social but cannot abide by social customs of morality and manners. Just because one favors time alone does not make them anti social. I’m fairly sure getting fired from a job and signing your final paycheck “fuck you” is anti social behavior even if you have six friends over every night.(My brother in law.) Maybe I spend too much time alone but the cost of socializing just makes it not worthwhile when I am not in a stable place.


Now I am gonna go insert bbq skewers into my ears so I don’t have to listen to the Chipmunks sing “Bad Day” for the thousandth time.



11 Responses to “Disoriented”

  1. Bad day was awful before the chipmunks touched it. They can only make it worse. May all your hellidays be relatively blissful and spook-y. 🙂 Sorry about the chipmunks though. I confess I heard the Wham version of Last Christmas and unlike OH-NO’s version I always turn off as a reflex action, it was like a trainwreck -I froze and for some reason I can’t explain, I had to listen to the whole thing. Even Mariah’s voice couldn’t even save “Christmas, Don’t Be Late” OR “Last Christmas.”

  2. Ugh, I have an appointment with my Pdoc Monday. Am NOT looking forward to it (n I like mine too!) This ‘life’ thing is an over rated bullshit lie!

  3. Dude it’s this grim gray rainy weather. What, do we suddenly live in the Pacific Northwest? Rather bracing ice, bright white snow, and blue skies than this endless drear.

    • Yep, it’s like Seattle weather but I don’t even get to gripe about being disgusted by grunge music. I’m stuck in Elsaland, kill me now if you have an ounce of empathy.

      On Sat, Dec 26, 2015 at 2:55 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • I won’t kill you, but if you bring me your severed head, I’ll toss it in the freezer and give it a few gentle stabs.

      • Merci, you have revived my faith in mankind with your use of the terms “gentle stabs”.

        Very kind, Sir.

        On Sat, Dec 26, 2015 at 2:59 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


  4. I feel the same way about certain places and/or engagements. Both nights 24 and 25 I went upstairs early and crashed solid. I usually take forever to fall asleep. I couldn’t do anything. I just climbed into bed and went right to sleep. Tension does it to me.

  5. Wow i really relate to this post. I’m a bit dissociated now i Relate that much. Have a day.

  6. I have the same problems with going out in public. It’s exhausting to be nice when I’m not feeling nice, or when I’m feeling anxious. But, I don’t have a child to take care of and that has to add a huge pile of difficulty to the situation.

    It helps me to write down what my talking points are for the shrink. That way I don’t miss anything and it allows my brain to stop running it around and around and around. Sometimes it doesn’t help, but when it does it’s great.

    Big hugs Morgue. Someone needs to win the lottery so we can build a self contained compound for the tribe. Shrink will come to see us, not the other way around. Groceries delivered. Everyone with their own house to hide in and a big communal area for socializing if we feel like it. *sigh*

    • I take a list of key issues to my appointments. He doesn’t even look at it or let me address much of it. I am only allotted that fifteen minutes so I guess it makes sense he’s hurried to get me in and out. Still for a hundred fifty bucks per med check I should think I’d be entitled to have my list read. Geesh.

      • I love that we’re supposed to address all of our issues in 15 minutes every couple of months. It’s completely ridiculous. What a racket for those shrinks.

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