Archive for April, 2017

Cure For HypoMania: The Weather

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , on April 28, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I have long mocked people, like me, from the midwest who spend way too much time prattling about the stupid weather. In my case with a seasonal affective disorder diagnosis attached to bipolar 2..The weather is actually very relevant from day to day. A month ago right before the first day of spring the weather went super sunny and all toasty warm and I felt CURED OF ALL DEPRESSION.

Ha, what a let down that always is.

Illinois has not gotten the memo yet that it is actually spring and thus it should be NOT in the forties and pouring It’s like Seattle without interesting scenery, though as defeating as being in the place that vomited the grunge music scene onto the world. (Sorry, grunge fans, hate it with the intensity of a thousand burning suns) I don’t think it is just me with askew perceptions due to my desperation to escape the sooo looong winter depression thus I’ve forgotten this is “standard issue spring” for the area. No, I don’t recall it ever being this dismal and cold during late April. EVER.

But, Morgue, your brain is lithium riddled cottage cheese, you can’t remember to wear pants, let alone recall thirty plus spring seasons…

True that but still. It even effects my ability to write, ffs.I am not amused. I am in the dish today babysitting the shop while R is out of town helping his wife do something or other and this gray, cold rain has me ready to gargle razor blades with a Borax chaser. ‘Normal’ people find this weather a downer, so it stands to reason it would hobble someone who pretty lives in a solid depressive state sans 4 or 5 months during warm weather. (If the sun, moon, stars, and pegacorn horns align, that is.)

The prescription, for the seasonal diagnosis, at least, should be RELOCATE TO A PLACE WITH LESS SUCKY SEASONS.

But I am broke and my disability claim was granted in this shithole so I am stuck. That breeds crippling depression, knowing there’s something out there that could help, even if minimally, no big pharma or RX needed and…DENIED.

I think where I have always gone wrong in my thinking is, thinking I will be all cured leaving this stupid place because I just hate the whole area with every fiber of my being. (Honestly, when you’re driving down the street and break your neck to look, not at any men, but at a blood CAR, Camero or not, well, this place makes my brain feel like it is on life support.)

Leaving here won’t cure me. I am still going to be scorched earth hot mess but without all these ties to lousy inconsistent weather, I might have a chance of gaining equilibrium. Doc can pump me full of pharma candy, they can have me talk about my stupid feelings for a thousand years..

Does not change the weather here. No one and nothing can.

So I bob around in the depressive ocean barely keeping my head above water, and I’m too tired to keep going but my stupid mind and body keep working even though I am crying uncle…

Hard to feel anything but misery when that is your norm.

Ask me in 4 days when the forecast says the rain and gloom will be replaced, FOR ONE WHOLE DAY, with warmth and some sunlight. I might feel differently that day. Because my mental state is that tied into the stupid temperature, humidity, sunlight, etc. (And don’t think it doesn’t gall a vampire like me to have to admit sunshine is healthy for me, it really does make my head and eyes hurt but damn if it doesn’t help the mood.)

My only hope is that all of this miserable rain at least nourishes my mammoth rose bush in the yard and Monster (yes, her name is Monster) starts growing pretty for me again.

Pegacorn knows the rain has been nothing but toxic for my mental health and functionality, let there be some good come out of it.

When Mania Mimics Drunkenness

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , on April 27, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

In the categories of’don’t try this at home, kids”, and ‘ill advised’ and ‘are you fucking nuts’…I stopped taking my lithium four days ago. I’m sorry, the nausea was too much and I got to reading my old writing and it was just better than the lithium husk of current days…So I stopped it, just to see if there was a difference in my writing quality. It’s too soon to really say, but at least it hasn’t slowed me down. Fifteen single spaced pages in 3 hours today alone. I will go back on the lithium the instant the roller coaster starts sliding on the rails but for now…Lamictal will suffice.

Which brings me to…manic episodes. I was sort of low yesterday but today, in spite of a cold cold wet morning dragging me under…I bounced back and the brain went warp speed ahead, Mr. Spock, Sula, and Lt. Uhura. I lurve when I get in the writing zone. Ideas coming at me breakneck speed. Following through with planned errands instead of ducking out. Doing utterly unpleasant things that will likely result in me being blamed when I am not at all to blame, R is just an asshole. (parts order glitch.)

Flip side…I came out of my “anti people” slump and called my mom and apparently she told my sister I am drunk at 4 in the afternoon, based on my rapid speech and using the wrong words and stammering a bit. Hello? Vintage bipolar mania.

Perhaps the upside, in my situation, is I cycle so rapidly, I am rarely manic more than a day, at most, unless hypo manic. Axis 2 bipolar is a spiteful bitch, providing so few manic episodes yet giving months long depressions. Especially when attached to seasonal affective disorder, which is mega sucky when you live in the midwest with the fickle weather changes…

My mom, I have concluded, is as hopeless a cause as is my father and friend R, in grasping that bipolar isn’t the same as lazy or stupid. Even today on the phone, the topic switched to her wanting cremated and my sis insists she be buried…I tossed out my wishes to donate my body to a medical school, better to teach something than be worm few or dust…And I said, “They can study my fucked up brain…” My charming mother tosses out, “Yeah, your sister didn’t get any of that stuff.”

Denial much? Oh, wait, my sister’s three trips to the looney bin were because she was young, she was stressed, she was drunk, she was on meth. She barely raised her own kid til he was 15. She shunned meds and replaced that with drunken bouts where she becomes combative and violent. But hey, she has a job and she keeps excellent house and cooks fabulously. I’m the loser.

Of course, I didn’t say that to psycho hose beast mombie. She has accused me perpetually of envying my sister, like it’s some petty thing. I envied my sister when she was a grand theft auto breaking into bars and stealing booze troubled kid. Only because she was the one person, even if younger than me, defended me against the bullying I suffered at school. She never shunned me or made fun of me and she wasn’t afraid to throw down. I was a mousy bookwork who could throw out sarcastic barbs but didn’t dare throw down physically lest I get expelled or arrested and upset the parental units. I envied my sister for being fearless and brash. For being loyal.

I don’t envy her getting married at 19 to a man who 18 years later still won’t work and spends all time obn X Box and smoking pot. I don’t envy her living with a bunch of other people and having to wait on them hand and foot. I don’t envy her weekends drinking with her odd friends whom I find as interesting as drying paint. Sorry, not rude, just honest.

Point being (I am fairly sure I have a point but the manic brain spins pretty fast)…Once I envied my sister but I don’t now. Mom will never grasp that any more than she will grasp that I didn’t ask for bipolar. Her hypocrisy is a salty drink to swallow as she was once in a locked ward for depression and anxiety, but hey, she came out of it, no meds needed, she just became completely venomous and a shut in. The meds suck but just getting use to being a miserable person is worse.

See the manic shifts in this post alone? You probably think I am drunk. Unless you’ve been through the manic episodes, in which case you might pump your fist in the air and say “I get this sooo much!”

I know it’s the sudden drop in lithium level, mania is the next step. I just need to mythbust whether my current lackluster writing is related to the lithium shutting down any true emotion. Once I determine that, I’ll go back to my puke inducing sane pills. My shrink seems to have zero problems with me tweaking my own meds since he is so busy he can’t see me more often. I don’t advise doing as I do, but…We all walk our own paths, it’s not up to me to tell anyone what to do as it is not up to others to tell me what to do.

As much as bipolar sucks…Even if steeped in denial…You gotta admit…mania is a high money can’t buy. Shame, like drugs and alcohol, it is so destructive. It’s like feeling good just leads to feeling bad. I don’t even know what that is, Universe. Cockweasel world.

Adulting Is Hard Work

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on April 25, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I couldn’t really think up a good title so I just went with my good friend Sass’s term for being a grown up and having to do all those parenty adult things that suck the life out of you :’adulting’.

I did manage to get an extra 20 minutes sleep this morning after waking at 3:30 a.m. I thought for sure I’d come home and sleep once I’d dropped off the spawn at school. But I was in withdrawal and panic mode as I had run out of smokes so I swallowed my pride and offered R a deal of “home cooked meal for smokes”. Shameful but necessary. I ran some errands, including Aldi, which is akin to having my eyeballs scooped out with a melon baller. Just the parking lot alone with cars going willy nilly and backing up and turning in, GAHHHHH.

On top of the dish adulting…I vacuumed most of the house, washed and dried and put away 3 loads of laundry. (only to find later when I heard a scratching noise that Feet had been laying in my drawer and I’d closed her inside the dresser. OOPS. Dumb cat could have meowed or something.) I washed dishes, I cooked a good meal, which my kid wouldn’t eat but I enjoyed it.

Spook was ungrounded today and within an hour, I had to take her new bike and put it in the shed. She was letting her friend ride it and the kid didn’t ask, just took off on it. I was pissed. After the fact I thought, these kids must think I am the grouchiest bitch on Earth. But ya know, you can only be taken advantage of so many times and have your stuff destroyed before you wise up. I did feel bad so I walked down to where they were playing and gave them popsicles.

R asked me to call his eldest daughter tomorrow because the cat she’s had 18 years, even when he and I were together the cat was there, had to be put to sleep and she is taking it hard. Oh, wow, do I know how that feels. I didn’t want to call after 9 cos of her 2 kids but I will make the call tomorrow and pretend I have social skills. It could be the lithium making me feel distanced, IDK. I know how it feels every time I lose a kitty and I am not a monster, I can reach out and show empathy and give condolences. Even if her approach to psychology is the very reason the mentally imbalanced get screwed by professionals.

A bright ray today..A laptop was left at the shop and R gave it to me. My nephew got it up and running (for the price of a pizza, a $400 computer for $14!!!) and I lurve it. It is very thin and it has touch screen, which I hate touch screen tablets and phones but it was a new gimmick. Not that anything is wrong with Mira here (Mira-cle, cos it was a miracle a beloved friend sent it to me so I could keep writing, oh I miss you, H.) The slim computer shall be called Sliver.I am not using it yet because I used a charger thing from another computer and I don’t think the rating is right, it was getting too hot so another thing I will need to buy. Sad when you don’t even know if you can work ten bucks out of your budget. But school pictures, cost of food, gas, blah blah blah…adds up and I usually do without to get it all done. ADULTING SUCKS.

Another bright note…It nearly killed me to not write all day but I had to focus on all I’d neglected. I sat down at 8:30 after I put Spook to bed and by 11:30…I typed 17 pages. Which is good considering I had no idea where the story was going to go from where it left off yesterday. I winged it and now I don’t feel so depressed.

I even worked in a shower and now I am watching Supernatural and a killer clown is loose and I dislike clowns but don’t fear them. Just, Pinhead, Jason, Freddy-no clowns, too icky.

Amazing how I got all this done on so little sleep with so much anxiety and yesterday I was a basketcase due to the same things. Bipolar just keeps on going like that battery bunny from hell.

Speaking of hell…Don’t tell me to go there. I can’t, at least not til Satan has that restraining order lifted.

I LURVE snarky t-shirts.

Back to Dean and Sam then I will attempt sleep. Adulting sucked but I did okay. Which means I will likely have a few not okay days.

The fact this has become the new norm is just suckage.

4:56 a.m.

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , on April 24, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

So of course,a couple of days after telling my shrink I’m sleeping better these days…I wake at 1:30 a.m., then 3:30 a.m. and I’ve been awake since in spite of 0.5 mg xanax. The weather has been shitty and I am freezing, and oh, once I turned off the furnace for the season thinking, oh,’it’s 85 degrees, why do I need to pay for heat? The damned furnace went out again.

I suppose shark week and all those rioting hormones explain why I am so uncomfortable (in pain!!!) and moody and probably even why I’m battling the sleep issue. Because it wasn’t aggro enough to spend ninety minutes trying to fall asleep. No, my scumbag brain never thinks it’s enough aggravation for me.

If you want some sunshine spewed…I’ve been writing again, even though I thought for sure last week that the whole socialization thing had wrecked it. 600 pages and counting. (Not that impressive when you consider the 1.5 line spacing.) It’s something and I will take it, though some days it’s like giving a gator a dental cleaning. I have to pull out the creativity while the chaos around me distracts and stresses me out.

The weekend brought to my attention that while I have long blamed those devil neighbor girls for making my life a living hell…I had to face the problem is actually my child. Because she made four new friends with little girls new to the trailer part and she is still driving me nuts running in and out, demanding food for them, and not being where she says she will be. She even let the devil girls mess with her brand new bike she got for Easter (my mom bought it, I don’t have that kind of money or insanity, it’s frickin’ Easter, man.)

I never thought my kid was perfect but I feel bad now for blaming the devil girls entirely. My kid is the problem. She is a follower and she will do anything for these other kids to like her and she doesn’t care how her running in and out and dragging 4 kids inside with her even when told know tears my mental balance to shreds. It’s not that she’s ‘just a little kid’. She knows right from wrong at school. I guess I have just been sleepwalking through life for so long, I didn’t instill enough fear of consequence in her for her to respect me and give a damn that her actions are driving me off the deep end.

She did her best to break me yesterday because I couldn’t find her Saturday where she said she’d be. Then she came out of the woods with this new girl and I made her come in and she was grounded yesterday for both not being where she said she would and also, disobeying me by going in the woods. And to prove what a sheeple my kid is, she is STILL trying to sway me with “Joanna Banana Socks’s parents let her play on the tree chipper!” That follower mentality just infuriates me. But I did not break yesterday, she was in the whole day and I personally turned away 4 different kids. My social butterfly needs some boundaries even if at the end of the day I want to go cry in the closet from the anxiety of her browbeating me all day.

To my credit, I did not cry. Might be the first time in months the raging hormones didn’t send me to tears.

So life is still a bowl full of worm infested rotting cherries and my shrink says I look so much better but…I don’t feel all that better. I get animated talking about being able to write again and suddenly, he thinks I’m on the road to cured.

Have I ever mentioned how over this bipolar thing I am? I want every vestige of it plucked from my brain even if it leaves me a drooling looney tune. Not like I’d notice much difference between this life and lobotomized life.

Did I mention I am also very cranky and spiteful before ten a.m.? I should not be awake at this ungodly hour. My whole day is going to be thrown off by this sleep disturbance which is going to piss me off and I will be exhausted…

That’s all it takes with bipolar. One little breeze of mood shift or heightened anxiety, and the dominoes all start falling. They don’t even fall in an awesome pattern.

Why Twitter Sucks

Posted in social media with tags , , , , , on April 18, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Tonight I watched a movie Cure For Wellness. As disgusting as the notion of an oral speculum to forcefeed eels down one’s gullet into their gut…

The thing I watched on Crack’d today disgusted me far more because It is not fiction.

A “tweet” from our Twitter addicted loudmouth president actually posted about some dude “is wearing eyeliner today.” The dude, A, does not in fact wear eyeliner, and B, the dude sewed Trump University and won 25 millions bucks so…

Is it just me thinking our “president” is as immature as a six year old with the name calling, misinformation, and sheer venom against anyone who has not bowed before his self proclaimed awesomeness? HOW DOES THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES HAVE SPARE TIME TO ISSUE SUCH VAPID ‘tWEETS’??????

At the risk of putting my insignificant self on some government watch list for not thinking Trump’s butt spews sunshine and rainbows…Even in my psychologically melee, I still manage to work up rage towards a powerful being who is so goddamn petty. My closest friend calls me ignorant for not bowing down to Mr. Trump.

I am far from ignorant. I have wanted nothing more than for President TRump to prove me wrong in my assessment of him as an egomaniacal arrogant blowhard. I WANT YOU TO PROVE M,E WRONG, SIR!!!

But daily I am assaulted by his infantile activities, his narrow misogynist views…And as open minded and forgiving as I want to be…

I find him vile. Never before has a PRESIDENT OF OUR AMAZING COUNTRY used social media to insult how others look, to disparage those who sued him for wrong doing and won, never ever has a president been allowed to behave so irresponsibly, so amorally, so DISGUSTING.

You ‘normal’ fucks wonder why big pharma is making a gazillion bucks and the shrinks all have foreign vistas…It ain’t just our brain chemicals misfiring.

We have SOULS. We do not dish out insults about one’s appearance or pull sour grapes when someone calls on us our shitty behavior and wins a court case. We do not take to Twitter time after time just to prove how almighty important we are because as God intended…we are humble enough to know that no matter how intelligent, creative, business savvy or wealthy we might become…

It does NOT EVER entitle us to judge others as lesser beings because of their gender, sexual orientation, political association, socio economic niche…

The “imbalanced” know people are to be judged on their merits and their wrong doing. If a court decides you are wrong and awards 25 million…NUT UP AND TAKE IT LIKE A MAN INSTEAD OF ATTACKING SOMEONE’S APPEARANCE. If someone offends you…stick to the issue and elaborate, name calling things like “fat” and “pig” make you beneath the presidency. Hell, my 7 year old knows better and she doesn’t even Tweet or have her finger on the nuke button.

And don’t get me started on the impeachable offense of how Mr President Trump’s hotels rake in money from foreign dignataries which could well influence his political decisions EVEN IF the party line is that he signed it all over to family members.


How is that not putrid and offensive? He’s not allowed to use his own vast wealthy but why should taxpayers pay for him to play while important programs are cut and his republican army starts repealing basic human rights for anyone not born with a penis?

My friend R says I don’t see the big picture.

Do I think it’s awesome so many American manufacturer have opted to stay in the states instead of hightailing for cheaper labor and parts places?>I am in favor of more jobs, more American made products. Hail to Trump for that much.

At the same time…Many employers are not using social media such as Facebook and Twitter to cope out potential employees who apply. They can use your drunken beach pix from ’02 to deem you unhireable. They can take one sentence uttered in 2008 and call you an undesirable.


I am not longer feeling pride in being American. It seems like it is being run by a male Kardashian and if that makes me a bitch for saying so…so be it. Pardon me if my functioning brain finds it offensive that the president has time to Tweet but can’t follow through on half the promises/lies he used to get elected. But then, we didn’t elect him by popular vote, did we. THe powers that be used their “my electoral college thing counts more than your citizen vote”.

So anyway…sorry for a political tired, it is a can of worms I’d rather not open but…Jeebus, seeing those Tweets from THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES insulting someone ON THEIR LOOKS just set me off.

High school never ends, no matter how rich and successful and powerful you get. It makes my soul cry tears of blood, to be honest.

Do Not Ever Think A Mental Health Disorder Diagnosis Makes You Crazy

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , , , on April 15, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I’ve been brewing and stewing this post for a loooong time but a tv show episode just kind of nudged me to bring it to fruition.

NONE of us like labels, NONE of us want to be called disordered, dysfunctional, imbalanced, ie; crazy.

Fact is..mental illness (whether you like the term or not, it is what it is) does not care who you are. It does not care how smart, educated, or socially economically privileged you are. The brightest minds can fall victim to personality disorders, mood disorders, thought disorders. If you think no genetic link or an abundance of smarts and education and productivity protect you…

You are wrong.

Fact is, cruelly so, most of us with a chink in our mental health armor, are actually intelligent, creative, strong, stubborn, and not at all malleable.

So do NOT ever be like the mindless masses and assume mental illness/disorder is a synonym for “crazy”.

Our thoughts fire randomly. Perhaps we don’t make sense at times. Maybe our logic is askew and we make poor choices. Maybe we fail those who count on us and it is unintentional and after the fact, we loathe ourselves.

It is NOT the same as being a sociopath or psychopath. Most with a legit diganosis still feel guilt, we have a conscience, we hate ourselves and regret our behavior even when it is spilled milk. THAT is what separates us from those who are chemically balanced yet socially bankrupt. We actually do feel bad when our behavior is detrimental to ourselves and hurts others.

So…No matter your failures or shortcomings…You are not crazy.

Thinking that is just ignorant social programming and ignorance may be bliss for the sheeple…

But most of us have had enough counseling to know ignorance isn’t blissful and denial isn’t a good coping mechanism.

It’s okay to feel bad for poor behavior, to feel guilty for those you feel you have wronged because your neurons were misfiring…

It does not make us “crazy”. Nor does it make is beyond help, or beyond redemption. Like any physical illness, mental health issues should have some leeway. I’ve long said no one would expect you to place first in a long distances marathon with a broken leg…

So why are we held to the same standards as people without a brain chemistry issue working against us?

Maybe we all feel crazy at one time or another, or hell, in my case, at many times.

I never stop feeling bad for it. I may let myself move on, but it is never without a great weight over my head for I feel terrible when I hurt people, intentional or not.

We are not crazy, nor evil, nor beyond help.

The only ones advocating for us are ourselves and the mental health community who knows how we feel.

Never fall prey to a cruel society who lacks the intelligence to ever truly know what mental illness is like.

Be strong, be a survivor, kick ass when you can, retreat when you must…BUT DO NOT EVER ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE GUILTED INTO FEELING THE WAY THE IGNORANT SHEEPLE THINK YOU SHOULD FEEL.

We are stronger than that. We tangle daily with our own minds and still, we are not out killing people like the so called “sane”.

Rather than self hatred and exile…maybe we all deserve a spork of fortitude.

No. Not maybe.

We all DEFINITELY deserve a spork of fortitude.

Short Circuit

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , on April 14, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Not sure why but today was a bitch. Been a long time since the anxiety disorder ran riot and panxiety grabbed me in is jaws and shook me about like a rag doll.

All morning and all day, I felt this foreboding. Something bad coming, bad juju. Enter panic and paranoia. It had my stomach torn up. I blew off a prior commitment because my brain had me convinced leaving the house would bring something bad about.

I took a Xanax, to no true avail. I’ve been short, testy with everyone, and raised my voice too many times to count or justify. Explain, sure. When your brain is sending you misinformation and making you feel fragile enough to shatter in a thousand pieces…it is easy to spaz out and lose your cool.

Not my finest hour, today. Not a good start going into 4 days of my kid being home and all the Easter rigamarole. I am TRYING but this ninja anxiety and its throwing stars of panic attacks is just brutal.

Point for me recognizing my feelings were a distortion. Point against me, I handled it as ass trashy as possible. (Though when I got out of the shower and one of Spook’s friends decided to barge in the door while I had no pants on…)Yeah, I had every right to go off on that, you do NOT enter without knocking, ESPECIALLY when someone is telling you NO, do NOT come in. Fucking sad I gotta keep the place on max security prison lockdown to combat kids who just barge on the damned door.

All around a very bad mental health day.

I hope I feel more solid tomorrow so I can get my Easter shopping done while Spook is at mom’s. Hope, hope, hope, so hope.

Really hate anxiety disorder even more than my plethora of other dysfunctions. Anxiety is crippling and it sparks fight or flight response. I don’t like it. I’d about undergo an exorcism just to get rid of it.

Though that too would give me an anxiety attack so…fuck a duck in a bucket.