Archive for July, 2016

Hormonal Dip

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on July 31, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

Sundays are my “ick” days. I don’t know why, I’ve just always found them rather pointless for non religious people such as myself. THIS particular Sunday I find my mood has dipped and slipped into a rather uncomfortable place. Thanks, monthly hormones, thanks a fucking lot. Cos it’s not enough to be bipolar, nooooo, let’s toss in the shit storm of hormones that make me further question my sanity.

I think it was triggered by the anxiety that presented when the devil girls knocked on the door. Don’t get me wrong, my kid is glued to me 24-7,  she even sleeps in my bed, so any break where she is being a normal kid and playing with friends is welcome for me. Problem is…THESE friends. Already had to chase them out because they ran in and out six times in five minutes and the youngest one was using my mirror to slather on her kiddie warpaint…And I said, “You need to go play outside before I lock the door on you all.” (Am I mean? Sue me.) Her older sister even told her “Morgue said to get outside” and the 8 year old says, “So what?”  Yeah, like it’s not even my fucking home.

So the anxiety of them being about followed by cramps and hormone fluctuations has me in this shit place I don’t much like. Throw in my summer allergies in which every inch of my skin itches for no apparent reason….I am pretty uncomfortable in my own skin, let alone my mind.

Try to distract myself watching my shows. Ha. 42 minute show becomes a 4 hour start and stop task with kids constantly interrupting.

I should go do dishes. I don’t see it happening with the pain in my spine.

I am so sick of the monthly cheese and whine just because my hormones go nuts.  But it’s a factor that shrinks downplay for female bipolar patients. Hormones play a huge rule in your mental state. Bipolar and hormones? It’s a wonder I haven’t killed anyone or simply gone bat shit and gotten locked down. Month after month of this shit.

And from what I have discussed with my doctors…I can’t even look forward to a break via menopause. I can’t take hormone replacement due to blood clot issues, so my crazy is likely to metastasize to Goodyear blimp size even once the monthly thing goes away.

I am so fucking jazzed. NOT.

I keep asking myself, “Could you for the love of fuck say something positive?”

The answer, of course, is , “Could, for the love of fuck, something positive actually happen to me?”

Because I am spinning out under all the upcoming stress. I have one child support check to get my kid her school clothes and supplies. My entire check is gone for rent and a “running six fans 24-7 to make up for not having AC’ power bill…My mom went and got a 2009 car for my nephew to drive once he gets his license so she can’t help with Spook’s school stuff. Dad’s whining how he hasn’t worked and he can’t help…That’s all fine, I will handle it, I know how to squeeze the pennies and get blood from a stone.

It just doesn’t help that her birthday is also the first week of August so in addition to school stuff, I have to find a way to get her a gift or two. Least she’s not demanding a big shindig.

Oh, dear, the kids are having a death match. Refereeing her social life makes me grateful not to have one of my own.

I guess that’s a point to mention to the shrink. Whatever good the Pristiq is doing…I still have less than zero desire to socialize. I mean, NONE. I don’t want to be around people. I like my quiet life of watching my shows and playing my word games. Besides…my so called friends just spend the entire time on their goddamn smart phones so why would I want to hang with them?

I think my purge is complete. Aside from the fact I haven’t slept more than ninety minutes consecutively in months despite getting 5mg melatonin…Maybe the routine of her school with help sort shit out. Or stress me out more since I have to take her and pick her up again this year, all over that tenth of a fucking mile. Least now I know I can hang back by the fence and not have to be engulfed in the massive spewage of bright colors and shrieking voices. My kid can spot me a mile away as I am pretty much the only person in town who wears all black 7 days a week.

I’m only wearing black until they invent a darker color.

Time to hit the Tylenol again, the cramps have resumed crushing my spine.

Oh and another kid is in my yard….

Have I mentioned how much I can’t fucking wait for fall and winter? Maybe the depression gets worse but at least all these heathens stay inside.

To quote my Grumpy Cat July calendar: Don’t worry, be grumpy.

LIVE IT.

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Mental Status

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on July 30, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

I have really grown tired of the usage of the term “mood”.  Bipolar is just a mood disorder. What has you in such a bad mood?

Bipolar is less mood and more a state of mind. Mental status taints everything you do. Bad moods can be shaken off or ridden out. A mental status that revolves around darkness or, worse, nothingness…It’s a prison and you’re locked in, unsure if parole will ever be granted and even if it is, will it matter.

I mention this because while Pristiq has definitely helped more than prozac did, I am still stuck in this mental state where everything feels like a chore.Everything annoys me. Everything feels exhausting.

While I get out of bed and do what I have to, most days bare minimum still, my mind is still not in a good place. If anything, I’ve accepted that I am on a stationary bicycle and no matter how hard I pedal…I go nowhere, accomplish nothing, don’t even lose weight. I am stuck in psychiatric limbo.

I bully myself a lot. I mean, a lot. Let all of depression’s lies sink in, make me doubt myself, question whether I am just a lazy malingerer. Which opens the door for my critics and all their spewage about how I am lazy, shiftless, making it all up, not trying hard enough.

One of Spook’s devil girls was here the other day and I said something like, “Don’t ask me, I’m not good at that stuff.” And this 8 year old says, “Yeah, you don’t work, you’re not good at anything.”

I let it roll off me (thank you, lithium, for vetoing the urge to smack a brat during shark week). But it infuriated me. I do occasionally still help R at the shop, even if I am unpaid, uncredited, and unappreciated. I TRY to do what I can when I can. Their father sits home and plays video games and can;t even nuke their goddamn ramen noodles for their lunch so they bring it to me.

That’s just fucking infuriating. And ya know, I am getting goddamn sick of society’s “tee hee, kids say the darndest things”. NO. There’s no excuse for any child that age to be that fucking rude. EVER. If my kid said that to someone, I’d ground her for a month. You’re never too young to learn not to be rude and to show some fucking tact.

But then I am the pms-ing bitch beast from Hades right now and ya know what….zero fucks are given.

Life is just on my last nerve. I buried kitten number 5 so Feet’s entire litter died. Shady had one kitten and I have to lock her in a pet taxi for her to feed it, she wants it dead. I can’t even count on my usual joy-kitties-because even that has turned to shit.

This election bullshit has me ready to drink the fucking special Kool-Aid. R and now even my own father are forcefeeding Trump on me and yet the more I read about the republican agenda, the more I want Hillary. Corrupt, sure, liar, duh, she’s a politician. But at least her platform doesn’t center around taking away women’s reproductive rights. (Her stance on it seems to change according to who contributes more money.)

And it’s not simply the pro choice stuff that gets me. I got one email the other day about this republican sponsored law that Trump has ALREADY agreed to sign off on once in office…and it criminalizes adultery, homosexuality, as well as consenting adults having sex outside marriage. CRIMINALIZES who you sleep with.

How am I the only one fucking terrified by this level of intrusion into my personal life? At least the Clintons are openly corrupt whereas the republicans tend to be absolute hypocrites who do all the bad stuff but it’s ok cos they repent in church.

Crazy lady says what?

I gotta stop reading this shit. Nothing I do is gonna have any impact. They want you to think your vote matters but did we not learn anything from Colorado and its superdelegates who swept Hillary in while marching of Bernie’s prone body?

I almost never indulge in politics. The fact this bothers me so much says I am petrified of how things turn out either way.

I have no use for corruption. Yet I also cannot abide the republican and its old boys’ network view of women as lesser beings who shouldn’t be allowed choice over our own bodies. (And who the fuck do they think they are making laws about who any consenting adult can sleep with, married or not????? That’s a moral issue more than a legal one.)

Maybe R is right and I am just a moron.

More accurately…I am afraid of being stripped of even more of my rights, as if the patriot act didn’t do enough…now I gotta worry about a couple of old geezer Republicans dictating whether I can choose to use my uterus or not…It is fucking scary. More people should be scared, even if you are a pro-life. Because once the law makers start peeking into your bedroom, prying into your body and personal choices, we are but a skip away from an all new holocaust.

Don’t think for one moment Trump wouldn’t toss every single mentally ill person under the speeding bus. We don’t contribute and when we do it is not enough so we simply don’t matter.

I want to think I am coming unhinged but I actually feel such clarity on the entire political matter. Both of the candidates are plain bad. We are plain screwed. Question is…Do I want massive wall to keep out foreigners if it means I can’t have a bootie call without facing charges cos some dumbass republican thinks it’s right to criminalize sex…

Hell fucking no. Let in a gazillion foreigners.

Stay the fuck out of my bedroom and OUT of my fucking uterus.

Moi, opinionated? Nah.

I think I am hypersensitive on the mental health front. I watched a series about crimes involving the mentally ill and it…It was a good show (Canadian, of course.) But it drew attention to things that I don’t think we are ever going to be able to tackle. Like a woman who was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and agoraphobia. She hadn’t left the house in months then one night, to go see her niece play in a band, she went to a nightclub. And she was terrified and fainted and of course…some jackass commented, “If she were really sick and agoraphobic, she couldn’t have left the house tonight.”

This is our struggle. Because if we can manage it ONE time, we must be cured and just faking it. No one would ever say the same of a cancer patient who was having a ‘better’ day and ventured out with her family. Nope.

Mental health issues are the bastard child of medicine.

I had another scary realization watching that show, too. The cop was ordered to undergo a psych eval and the doctor who went to court and declared him unfit…Well, he himself was a narcissist nd pathological liar who was pissed at the cop for hanging out with his old gf….

Yet we are beholden to these people. Psych professionals are just as flawed as we are, just as disordered, just as prone to personal bias, lying, misconstruing…

Okay, so it was fiction. I live the non ficti0n version, where even my best friend’s shrink daughter is as fucked up as I am and yet in control of whether people get help they need or are dismissed. I have legit concerns.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I’m gonna go back to binge watching Chicago Fire. I tried two other times to get into it and couldn’t, now I am liking it.

It’s all about mental status. Guess mine is feeling pyro-ey right now.

 

 

fatcat

A cry for help

Posted in Uncategorized on July 26, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

Normal is out there

A dear old friend of mine is in Trouble.  Capital T.

I brought her plight here, to my wonderful followers, because she is also bipolar.

She is about to lose her home.  And, if she loses her home, she will also have to give her kids to her ex-husband, because she won’t have anywhere to live.

See, she was unemployed for almost a year.  Through no fault of her own.  And since then she has only been able to secure work at a temp job.

And even though she’s working, the mortgage company won’t work with her, because they don’t like the type of employment she has.  In my opinion, that is very wrong.

A lot of us understand what it’s like to be talked down to, or outright discriminated against, because we have bipolar.  It’s time to start helping each other.

I know that helping someone else out financially…

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Gun,Knife,Noose

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , , , , on July 24, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

Not yet 10:30 a.m. on a Sunday and already I have fixed my kid pancakes, washed my dishes, started laundry, showered, and put on clothes I didn’t sleep in. Is it wrong to be exhausted already? Fuck a fancy bag, we’re in day 5 of 90 plus temps with 80% humidity. When you don’t have  AC….The heat just sucks the life away, as if I had much to begin with. It also makes me ten times more venomous, I’d give a king cobra a run for its money.

Two weeks without a post…One week I had flubola ’16. I thought I understood the concept of hunger. Until you’ve expelled every last nutrient and can’t even keep a saltine down so you’re weak and woozy…That’s hunger. I don’t do sick with any grace. My kid was sick at the same time so it was a lot of moping, dry toast, and fort blankie for us both. I fed the cats. That’s about all I did. One night I was so sick I laid in a cold shower trying to get my fever to break so I’d stop sweating and shivering. Not fun.

That went away. Enter shark week cramps. The kind that have me fetalized with a hot water bottle. The kind that reek of fucking labor pains.

The heat has killed off our newbie kittens. I did everything I could for them but…Feet’s first litter, first litters often don’t survive. Sick of burying cats.

R and I are having some sort of turmoil, his choice, not mine. He is all team Trump and after meeting the douchebag’s running mate, two steps removed from being a caveman, I said much as I hate Hillary and all her illegal deeds..I may register to vote for the first time in my life just to speak up and out against the republicans.

So of course R called me a moron and says I don’t understand Trump’s politics and I am abetting the Clintons in their criminal deeds…WTF.

This isn’t an election. It’s “how do you wanna die? Gun, knife, noose, you’re dead no matter what.”

I just have this thing for men who think they have the right to weigh in on women’s issues such as abortion. Especially this Pence guy, who’s so anti abortion he doesn’t even bend if the birth will kill the mother. That’s not having a platform, that’s being a fucking idiot.

R said it shouldn’t matter since I don’t plan on having more kids.

Maybe not. But I have a daughter and her right to choose is very much a matter to me. Not to mention, my maternal grandmother was 49 when she had my mom so there’s no saying I won’t find myself in an ooops situation where a doc advises termination due to birth defects from my age or taking my meds…

It matters. And I have zero use for a grown man who can’t agree to disagree. This isn’t junior high where I have to agree with the cool kids to stay relevant.

Bet I opened some cans of worms there, politics and abortion are no no topics. Which I don’t get but I think it’s because there are more R’s out there than there are mes, who is fine agreeing to disagree.

I think the Prisiq is helping. Not a big huge difference but compared to the Prozac…I think it’s got me on the rise. I want to try the 100mg bump next time I see the doc.

Spook was supposed to go stay at my dad’s this week for vacation bible school. She begged me not to make her cos she doesn’t want to be gone for a week. I informed my dad and like a little kid he said, “Fine you guys stay in X-town and I’ll stay in C-town!” Not very mature for a man pushing 70. She’s barely 7, of course she doesn’t want to be gone for seven days. So he’s pissed at me now, like I put her up to it when in fact…a week sans devil girls knocking on my door sounded pretty fucking sweet.

R is going to AA now. But still drinking. 3 24 ounce cans every single night. All the while preaching about how he hasn’t hit rock bottom like “those” people at the meeting, he doesn’t really have a problem. I wonder how those people who busted ass to get sober feel about his bullshit presence. He’s doing it to get the wife and kids off his back. But he still doesn’t think he has a problem, at all. I’ve been avoiding him when possible. I won’t feed his denial and I don’t like his arrogance. Silence is not a skill I have when calling people on their shit.

As for me…It’s too fucking hot to drink. I can’t even keep my bills paid because the post office delivers the child support whenever they feel like it so you can’t plan on anything. I am as disgruntled as ever but I maintain it’s justified.

Now…to do something different…a joke.

A middle school principal was getting complaints from her janitor about the sixth grade girls’ bathroom mirrors. The girls were trying lipstick and leaving a lip print, dozens of them, every day, and he was sick of cleaning it up. So the principal assembled the tweens in the bathroom with the janitor and said, “I want you girls to know how hard it is for him to clean off your lipstick.”

The janitor takes a squeegee, dips it in a  toilet, and wipes the mirror clean.

The girls never left a lip print again.

Things My Psychiatrist Taught Me

Posted in bipolar depression with tags , , , , , , , on July 8, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

I could have a much needed vent about how irritated I am by the whiplash weather changes, by the incessant brats my kid calls friends eating me out of house and home, how my kid has Swimmer’s Ear and one would think she is dying…I could do all that and more. Instead…I am going to share some wisdom that was recently bestowed on me by my shrink.

Yeah, I was blown away, both by the fact he had something to say that made sense and also, that my dumb ass never put two and two together before.

First off, he suggested I try some magnet therapy thing, sort of like ECT very lite. Except it requires six weeks of trips sixty miles out of town five days a week and that’s only IF I qualify for it and if insurance covers it. I balked. I can’t get the fuckers to spring for ADD meds that work, I can’t imagine what hoops of flame would be involved getting this magnetic therapy (about thirty grand, he told me, most insurance now will cover it…eventually.)

So I asked about Rexulti. He said No. I asked why, since many are having good results with it acting quickly. He explained that he is very reluctant to prescribe any med that has not been on the market for at least ONE year, allowing for more accurate reports of side effects. Rexulti is basically a molecule shaken, not stirred, from being Abilify. Seriously. The patent on Abilify ran out, so the pharma company moved ONE MOLECULE in the formula, thus making it AN ALL NEW DRUG!!!! That they can charge hundreds of dollars for til the patent on it runs out, and turn around and repeat this again, and again.

Basically, people…We are never getting truly new meds. We are being handed variations on the past drugs that worked then quit, or failed or had too many side effects. Look it up yourself, these itty bitty molecular changes made to pre-existing drugs thus making them all new meds. There’s nothing new here at all. Just…”revamped”.

Disheartening as that is…He asked what has worked for me other than Prozac and Cymbalta and I said Effexor. Venlafaxavine.

I asked about Pristiq.Not tried that one.

Guess what? Pristiq is Effexor, shaken, not stirred. Seriously. Desvenlafaxine. THREE fucking letters changed, new brand name, one molecule different formula and voila! BILK THE CRAZY PEOPLE FOR ALL THE CASH AND HOPE THEY HAVE TO OFFER!

Sadly enough…I said I’d roll the dice with Pristiq as it is generic now thus likely covered by my crap insurance. (One week on 50 mg, no side effects other than very bizarre dreams.) I have not ruled out the magnet therapy thing, but it’s gonna have to be closer than sixty miles away. That’s three hundred miles a week driving, plus cost of gas. It’s not that I’m unwilling to roll the dice on it. It’s just financially impossible.

BUT for once…in like…ever..I came out of a doctor appointment feeling not just validated, but educated and informed.

I expressed my frustration at all the med failures and how people view me as malingering yet there are so very many of us out there in this same boat…

To my shock, he said he would never spend a half hour talking to me if he thought for one minute I was malingering.

He went on to toss out some pretty astounding numbers at me.

Estimated 30 million people depressed/bipolar/etc thus taking psych meds.

Even by pharma’s own stats, 10 million of those are medication resistant.

YES, TEN MILLION OF US.

I have only ever had one other psych doc make me feel like I’m not some loser. He actually took the time to inform me, educate me, hear me. SEE that this is soul devouring, being on this medi go round.

Now that I know basically no medication is really new these days…They just change a tiny thing to a preexisting med, enough to get a patent as “new”, and maybe just maybe we are all building up a tolerance to this regurgitated shit. There’s nothing new going on, just a chair or side table being rearranged, so to speak.

I, ever the cynic, assumed all doctors were in bed with big pharma due to the samples passed out and alleged kickbacks received for pushing certain medications over others.

My doctor said he had samples of Rexulti I could have IF I wanted to take the chance. He just made it abundantly clear that he personally is not comfortable giving out a drug that’s not been on the market for one year, minimum.

Why?

Mind you, he didn’t sign a blood oath or provide certified documentation, but he explained all the phases of developing new drugs (not just for psych, but all drugs) and how while it may take years to get to human trials…Generally, they are only given to a thousand people, data is compiled, and FDA gives approval to go to market. With little more than the limited reports of side effects from their animal studies and human trials to back up what is being handed out to people blindly. At this point, he does not know enough of about Rexulti side effects and long term use to prescribe it to ANY patient.

He explained to me that back when Viagra came out (yeah, we all know what that one’s for and usually not for psych issues) they had studied its effects so limitedly…It wasn’t until years later when male users developed life threatening heart problems did it become clear Viagra was the culprit.

Now that’s gotta give food for thought, right? No way to know if any med will turn out “bad” or have poor outcome but with the drive through FDA process of current days…It’s amazing there aren’t more lawsuits. Test a thousand people, write down their results, and unleash it on 30 million mentally wonky people?

Are we really the ones who are mentally wonky?

I am loathe to add to the “big pharma is evil” movement because face it, we need medications. For every condition, we need medication. This cannot be circumvented.

It still does make you think, wonder, fear, and perhaps…Want to do some of your own research on this whole matter. Inform yourself. Educate yourself. Do NOT assume “FDA approved” means you won’t sprout horns and start lactating Dr. Pepper.

I have been unfair to my psych in past posts and for that I am sorry. He actually does care. He does know his stuff. He took the time to educate me.

Just wanted to toss out that food for thought for y’all.

 

Happy July Sporkth

Posted in bipolar depression with tags , , , on July 5, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

It would be arrogant for me to assume only U.S. readers glimpse this blog. Thus I will not be exclusionary by doing the American “4th of July” thing.

However…July SPORKTH is a  holiday we all can celebrate. Cos sporks are awesome, duh!

I am soooo  opposed to banal, meaningless “160 character Twatter” posts. Cos ya know, that’s what Twitter is for. If you have less than X amount of letters…It’s  not a blog post. It’s a Tweet, a status update. It’s not worth its own post, no matter how  much self touting filler is within.

Hate me? Why? Is it because I am mean?  Or because there is a grain of truth here?

YOU twitter bloggers are why I feel entitled to write this utterly pointless post.

That, and…SPORKS ARE FUCKING AWESOME AND SHOULD HAVE THEIR OWN HOLIDAY!

Leave all hate mail @ idon’twannabepopularanyway.com