Archive for December, 2017

The Free Floating Anxiety Chronicles

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , on December 30, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I am not fond of posting multiple times a day but when something has me so out of sorts…it really helps me work through it if I vent so here goes…

R’s appearance, uninvited Wednesday night (to his credit, he did text first for the first time in weeks, but when my lackluster response was met with ‘since you’re so disinterested…and I didn’t reply otherwise, yet he still turned up, no desire to talk or listen to me, yeah, he’s digressed to the elitist narcissist he always was, money changes people.

Since then, I have gone back to high anxiety, paranoia, and a dark cloud of anxiety over my head. It’s impacting my sleep whereas the four days R free days I had, I was starting to feel calmer, more at peace. What this proves to me is that while much of my anxiety is indeed free floating and often without a discernable trigger…this ‘friendship’ has become toxic for me.

He will never cede to this, he will remind me how good I’ve got it, how he fixed the furance, fixed my car, gives me the credit card to put gas in the car…He will flout every kind thing he has done for me in an effort to make me feel guilty and like I am betraying him. I know this because it has happened a few times before. Do his bidding or you are disloyal and a user.

This is the very definition of a toxic relationship. The man calls himself my friend, but didn’t offer me a Christmas ‘bonus’ of $20 bucks so help with my kid’s Christmas. When I even mentioned it, he scoffed indignantly and said, ad nauseum, “I’m buying you a car, what more do you want from me?” Needless to say, this hurt. And after six years trying to atone for how poorly I treated him 20 years ago when being given the wrong diagnosis and meds…It was plain insulting. Cruel, even.

He never asked me if I wanted him to buy me a car. He just deemed mine too old, too ugly, and I AM BUYING YOU A CAR. What no one realizes is if I go for this seemingly ‘good deal’ I will never escape being under his thumb. His acts of kindness are just that, until I displease him, then I get flogged with them and made to feel like an awful ungrateful monster.

This is the epitome of a toxic situation.

I honestly thought with his wife home from her job I’d be free of his visits for the better part of a week. Oh, and before you say, Just tell him no…Yeah, last time I did that, he got huffy then spent the night texting me about needing this part and that part, even though I told him I didn’t feel well and was tapped out. If I don’t perform, be it him not wanting to be alone or jumping thru hoops to do his bidding…He turns on me. In true narcicssist form he cannot see the err of his ways. He never will.

A year or so back he demanded I come into the shop and mostly it was to fetch lunch and keep the phone from bothering him but I was crying and told him, “I have a sick cat at home, she may die and I’d like to be with her.” To which he said, “I should think you’d rather be here than watch that.”

WTF? It wasn’t about my comfort because of course I don’t want to see an animal sick or dying. But it was important to me to be there so the cat didn’t die alone and he just could not relate because his emotional IQ is so low. And yeah, EQ is just as important as IQ. Smart but soulless does not work for me. I should have abandoned ship then and there.

Instead I have let the situation metastasize and now I am at a loss how to bow out gracefully without bringing his wrath down on me. You may wonder why I care, once I am out from under his thumb, I will be free. But R seldom lets it go, he will bully me or simply write me off as if I betrayed him. It’s scary thinking just to save my sanity and lower my anxiety I have to risk blowing up a friendship. But the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s not a friendship, not really. He doesn’t even send a birthday or Christmas text, treats my kid like an annoyance even in her own home. When he got this ‘real’ job and started making good money and now that he knows the shop is merely a side project to line his pockets…Throw in the forcefed political bullshit and it’s become an unbearable situation for me.

The fact that his reappearance, even in a social situation where he didn’t even mention the shop, is setting off alarm bills. He once bailed on me because he felt my mental health issues were dragging him down but he will never accept that the same is now true for me in this situation. So how to be diplomatic, calm, fair, and cause as little turmoil as possible…I tried to tell the psych nurse how it was breaking me down, but she could not have cared less. That leaves me on my own and just handling the whole thing has me panicking.

Top that with inexplicable free floating anxiety…I have to save myself at all costs. If he won’t accept polite, then…burn the bridge. It’s not worth it anymore being treated like the poor relation forced to do his bidding while he lords his well paying job and this magic car promise over my head.

Personally, a true friend to me would be someone who while not pleased with my choice to walk away would at least be understanding and supportive.

Sadly that has never been the situation with this person, except when he was the one ditching me for being too erratic and stressful.

Toxicity personified.

Can People With Mental Health Diagnoses Ever Trust Their Own Feelings?

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , on December 29, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Yesterday’s post, I was feeling secure in my realization that Trintellix had caused my disorders to become worse (and this is very common with anti-depressants, especially when on a two med regimine)…Today I am filled with fear and self doubt. As the calendar nears my appointment with Dr. B in two weeks, I find myself riddled with self doubt because the psych nurse seemed to doubt my sincerity, as well as the severity of my disorders, so it has trickled down and made me question myself, my motives, my ability to view things objectively without my sporadic wrong thoughts tainting my perceptions and feelings

It isn’t merely the mental health professionals who constantly make us doubt ourselves, either. We are constantly barraged with relatives and friends and basic acquaintances all too quick to negate their own rude behavior by blaming our hurt feelings or sense of disrespect by blaming our disorders and invalidating whatever emotions we have by saying we’ve distorted it.

So with so much going against us, how can we ever trust our own feelings?

I struggle with this on a daily basis. I am not a weak willed person. My school life was living hell filled with verbal abuse and even physical bullying yet I never backed down to become what they expected me to be. I liked what I liked, popular or not, and I was stubborn to the very end. I never changed who I was at my core, on the outside in my fashion style nor on the inside where I felt bullies were wastes of oxygen and far weaker than I could ever. Over the years, I have held tough to these views against complete adversity. So I am not one easily swayed.

However, when it comes to my thought disorder and anxiety issues…I falter and second guess and doubt myself and wonder if others aren’t right. That no feeling I have is ever legitimae, that the masses are right and I am the one in the wrong because so many people mitigate responsibility for their shitty behavior by placing blame on me for being ‘crazy’. What doesn’t help is the fact that often, my perceptions are amplified and turn out to be wrong or simply less of a problem when my mood cycles rapidly.

When you have a mental health professional who seems skeptical and does nothing to help you when you feel you are in crisis (if you don’t claim suicidal or homicidal ideation, it’s damn near impossible to get into even a day program)…self doubt takes over and because we are programmed from an early age to hold doctors in high regard as if they can never do any wrong…It’s a hellish way to live your life and certainly cause for questioning whether the effort to take the meds and seek the care are worthwhile.

Counseling, what the docs and nurse consider necessary, served only to confuse me more when new counselors decided three sessions in I had a new personality disorder. Which if they are right, I spent 20 years working on fixing traits of my previous diagnosis when all along I was Disorder X so now I have to start all over again…and lather, rinse, repeat, for when the next doc or therapist comes along and decides to slap me with yet another new label. It’s frustrating, maddening, it wreaks havoc on your self esteem and makes it nearly impossible to trust yourself.

What has become my bottom line however is that these professionals spend very little time with me, they don’t care about mitigating circumstances, they don’t care how the merry go round of counselors with all their different biases damage our minds and self esteem even more. They don’t know us. And if they can’t take time to get to know us to make our treatment more effective, then the only thing left to trust, for better or worse, is ourselves. We live with ourselves 24-7, we suffer the endless cycles of being up, being down, being stable.

And what has become clear to me, without the aid of any professional, is that if something is still bothering me a couple of weeks later after multiple mood shifts…then I can pretty much trust that that particular feeling is for real. Otherwise, it would have passed with the mood swings. Learning this is a huge sign of how much I have grown and how much self awareness I have gained.

Maybe many of my behaviors are personalty related. Maybe much of it amounts to bad medication cocktails or endless rapid cycling mixed with long depressive bouts during the winter, Maybe it’sa combination of everything.

I know I cannot keep going through life in perpetual self doubt. There is no way I was stronger as a bullied 14 year old who was powerless to escape the bad situation.

Self doubt is what seeking treatment for my disorders got me. Counseling made me full of self doubt and confused me even more than my disorders. Do I give up on it or do I keep fighting to find my happy medium?

Positive reinforcement can go a long way but when I am not even getting that from the people who are supposed to help me…and I have felt this way for months and months and made every effort to be fair and not overreact simply because psych nurse’s bedside manner doesn’t suit me…

I’ve got no choice but to trust myself. Because I know I am honest, sincere, and dedicated to getting better. I cannot allow some bad experiences defeat me from my goal of emotional balance. I don’t know what the answer is but I’d say started with removing negative anxiety inducing people from my life is a good start. If they don’t give me empathy and the benefit of the doubt…

There is no reason for me to reciprocate. Of this, I am certain.

When Anti Depressants Make Things Worse

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , , , on December 29, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Do NOT try this at home, kids.

Last week I bottomed out and got to thinking…the nurse doc thingie has pretty much written me off cos I had a booze bender the day before an appointment…I told R more than once that I had been slapped with a bad label and it upset me…but he responded with “whatever” and “does this woman know you?”

That was when it hit me. She does NOT know me. I bet she’s spent less than ten minutes over the last six months perusing my file before appointments. She is inexperienced, which in itself is malpractice for someone with my history of med resistant instability…She may well be a perfectly nice person, but she is…lacking in what I need in my treatment.

So R’s question, even if he is an elitist version of satan, got me to thinking. What could make me start behaving in a way contrary to my own nature? What had me so anxious and stressed that I would even need to dull things with alcohol to the extent I was reeking of it the next day? And furthermore, what the hell could make me not be interested in spending time with my child and finding my cats so vile and annoying????

It hit me then that much like a few before it, my anti depressant might be the culprit. It might help me remain upright and semi functional but was it also making me strung out on anxiety?

There was only one way to determine this.

I quit Trintellix cold turkey.

No withdrawal. Within a couple of days (and no doubt, not being at the shop and dealing with R helped) I was feeling less hostile, less anxious, more interested in my kid and cats…

Hell,we even had a GREAT Christmas Eve at my mom’s with zero family drama. Christmas day was spent at home, warm and cozy.

Six days later without Trintellix and I am wanting to play with my kid (long as my attention span allows, anyway), I am more patient with her even when she is acting like a twonk, I find joy in my cats again…

The nurse dog thingie can make all the wrong judgments she wants and blame drinking, or my personality, or whatever…but I honestly put it to the test and I am feeling BETTER WITHOUT TRINTELLIX.

I reiterate, do NOT do this at home. It is ill advised to stop meds without a professional’s consent but since doc nurse thingie put me in suicide bomber mode, the last thing I wanted was to call and try to get her to sign off…When I first started it and called to tell them about agonizing stomach aches, they said keep taking it and get my lithium level checked. Apparently, my misery is not of importance to her and her minions. So I took matters into my own hands.

And had there been a backslide, I’d have gone right back to the nausea stomach inducing lice crawling nasty medication. But the fact that going off of it made me feel less anxious and less hostile…kind of indicates it was the wrong medication. I got so busy focusing on being functional to pleas Satan, er, R, that I failed to notice the abrupt change in my own personality. And the fact not even my so called psych professional noticed kind of speaks volumes. I just didn’t want another med to fail, I wanted this to be ‘the one’ , to be successful, because your psych professionals are a bit like mom and dad, you may have your issues and resentments, but ultimately, you want to please them, even if it’s a fallacy.

I’m sure there will be backlack for my ‘poor’ choice to stop the Trintellix cold turkey, but since I did stop it…I have needed less Xanax, had fewer meltdowns and stress fits, and even though still waking up multiple times a night…I’ve found a reduction in waking with panic attacks. That, for me, is a ringing endorsement for stopping the medication.

Right or wrong…I am already feeling better. And R made an appearance last night which caused my condition to re-emerge, resulting in waking with panic attacks today cos I just can’t handle his oppressiveness anymore…So the nurse doc thingie wasn’t willing to say I needed to rid myself of whatever is causing me to be so nervous and contrary to my own identity…

I did her job for her. I also got my furnace working Saturday night by using Google rather than panicking and calling R. What this tells me is…

I’m a hot mess and my mood’s going to ebb and flow and crash and burn cos of seasonal depression…but I will be damned if nurse doc thingie is going to make me give up on myself. It may be her idea of tough love, but she set me back quite a bit in my trust in my own mental healthcare. I wish I could sue the whole place because she made me feel so hopeless and unworthy.

She is wrong.

I am going to make it out of this hole someday and I will do it without R and in spite of my noobie psych nurse who made me feel about as shitty as anyone ever has. My mistakes may be called out and I will own them, but that gives her no right to question my sincerity. If she knew me at all, like Dr. B, did, she would have recognized I’d done a 180 against my own values and identity.

She’s not gonna defeat me, nor is R. I am taking back my life and I will handle the fall out. I am tired of being enslaved to someone’s bias, to someone’s financial manipulations (fuck you, keep the car, I’ll drive my bucket of bolts).


That may be the sanest thought I have had in months.

Negative Effects Of Anxiety Overload

Posted in bipolar depression with tags , , , , on December 23, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

My dad brought by my gift, a gift card for Wal-Mart and my kid was having a fit because not one family memeber even thought to take her out to choose a gift for me…so even though the car is nearing E we drove the ten miles there and back.

The place was packed, of course. I was on red alert and trying to keep an eye on my kid all the while dodging elbow to elbow shoppers and hey, my stepmom and my dad were shopping there and even amidst that huge store and chaos…I ran into stepmom. Luckily I was getting new high top tennis shoes, something they’d approve of. And it’s sad that at 44, with a GIFT card, I still have to concern myself with buying practical stuff lest they jump my ass. And they do jump me and my sister, constantly, for buying soda, for smokes, for spending too much on gas to run around town…It’s ludicrous and yet…I did get some frivoulous stuff when I was sure she was on the other side of the store.

And that was when we hit a snag but I didn’t realize it til later. I was so rattled, so nervous, and my kid couldn’t decide on a gift for me yet she kept meandering off and pointing out all the stuff I SHOULD spend my Christmas money on to buy her (as if a $200 dollhouse mom got her and a fucking tablet I got her aren’t enough!!!) I know she is just a kid and kids do that but she takes it to an extreme. My parents used to give us a five dollar bill to buy them each a gift and I never once considered spending it on myself. Instead, I relished the joy of surprising them with something I had chosen. My kid…is different.

Anyway… I bought what I thought was a luxury eyeliner for ten bloody bucks…survived the trip out of the massive chaos of traffic, terrified and almost getting hit due to my own distraction…got home, turns out it was a waste of ten bucks cos it’s eye brow liner. Had I not been so panicked and distracted, I would have seen that. But I just wanted to get in and get out, I was desperate and terrified.

And that’s where the anxiety is the hitch in my personal and my old work life.

I get too panicked and scattered, I make stupid mistakes, and usually to my own detriment. Because in the middle of chaos, I can’t gather the racing thoughts and all the panic sensors going off. Even the doctors admit the physical symptoms of panic attacks mimick a heart attack and while it won’t kill me…if I can’t focus and gather my thoughts and pay attention…What good am I as an employee or even in a relationship?

I am distracted because the anxiety is too much, I cash a fifty and give them sixty in change by accident cos my brain says, no they gave you a hundred dollar bill. (true story and that was my mistake and I paid for it, literally and figuratively.)

In a relationship, I am exposed to too much chaos, I spend the night turning into a sweaty mess and throwing up in the bathroom.

And this was 20 years ago.

Since I had Spook, it’s gotten so much worse, like a cancer metastasizing and devouring my nervous system. I carry on about it because IT IS A BIG DEAL. And I fear it’s gonna result in a car wreck because I can’t keep my scattered brain focused. (Does not help with a kid in the back talking non stop.) I already had humper incident a couple years back because I was stressed by traffic and hit the gas too much instead of braking. Luckily no damage or injury occured but I was hesitant to drive for awhile after that.

How insurance can be allowed to refuse coverage of an ADD medicine that could help me focus and avoid being overtaken by the churning thoughts and anxiety is beyond me. And the way things are going with Trumpcare trying to obliterate Obamacare (which, also is not perfect, even if it benefits you, it’s got its issues,too) but I get a feeling very soon even my anti depressants will be denied unless they fall into certain categories, like ‘costs the insurance company over ten bucks’.

It’s criminal is what it is, denying coverage of a med that could benefit me so much. I mentioned it to the nurse doc and she just scoffed, “They only pay if you’re in school or working” then she pointed out that it’s the anxiety doing it, thus I don’t really need Focalin, I’m just confusing the lack of focus due to being anxious. I am surprised she hasn’t questioned my status as a human being, she seems to disbelieve every other thing out of my mouth.

I am just so frustrated and flustered…And depressed that I wasted ten bucks of my Christmas money on a product I will never use as I already have caterpillar eyebrows. If I had just been calm and focused…

But it’s my mistake and I get to live with it and that has been so much of my life story. Not every bad choice is because of my mental disorders, but many of them really are a direct result of those and it’s cruel that even my mental health professionals seem so dismissive of that fact.

Psychological Dry Socket

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , on December 23, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

For those lucky enough to have never had dry socket from dental work…it’s excrutiating. Just look up the definition and you will cringe. Try living through it. Dry socket is one of the many reasons I was glad my own lousy dna resulted in dentures at age 27. (Trust me, when told it’s yank ’em and wear fake ones or die of systemic blood poisoning in extreme agony…vanity loses to survival instinct.)

For Christmas, I want the ability to STAY ON TOPIC! Oh, and a decent night’s sleep uninterrupted and my kid not to wake me at 6 a.m. again.

I have reached the point where I have dry socket of my central nervous system. I may not be in physical agony but all this faking my way through the shop, through R, through the family drama, my kid’s never ending ailments, demands, and tantrums…the hellidays…

The root is exposed and throbbing and I am two steps from a complete breakdown, just like when I had dental dry socket and was forced to wait two days to get into the doctor. I cried for two days, over the counter stuff did nothing, and by the time I got in to the dentist, I was bawling and begging for him to

I have new clarity now but it doesn’t make it any easier. I know I have to get away from that shop and from R. It’s toxic, even if deep down he is a good guy and I don’t want to hurt him (as if you can really hurt a narcissist) but more than that, I don’t want to deal with his tantrum.

The best way is a clean break but he will never allow it. He will text and call and guilt me even if I do work up the nerve to abandon ship. He will come to my door. He will remind me of every kind act he has ever done for me or my family. If I don’t cave, it will turn into how I’d have gone under without all his help and I am ungrateful and lazy. Been there, done that.

If this were a real job situation and I handed in a resignation letter, there would be zero backlash. The law doesn’t allow it. Maybe a petty boss would tank any references, but they wouldn’t yell at me, guilt trip me, or tell me I am nothing without them carrying me.

It’s my self esteem and sanity versus an egomaniac with no respect for my feelings and while doc nurse seemed so unconcerned..

I can’t handle the toxicity. I can’t be rid of my family, kid, or cats that add to my stress. What does that leave that I can do away with to help my sanity?

Walk away.

He’s told me many times he doesn’t expect much from me, it’s easy smoke money, it’s ass work (eww, sounds like porn, but alas, it means sit on your ass all day)…Well, then he should have no problem replacing me. Good luck finding someone willing to let you beat them down daily for 6 years for smoke money. I was making amends for all my unmedicated years of bipolar I subjected him to because guilt is not something you get rid of easily. Especially when constantly reminded how you did this and you did that and…

Come to think of it, I don’t believe any amends I make will matter unless I do his bidding. How could a psych professional not hear all of this and think, hey, this guy sounds like a trigger, perhaps she needs help bowing out of this unhealthy situation gracefully with a note…

I am so disgusted with her right now I wish she’d get fired or I could sue her. But I know that’s the pms (yeah, ten days of menstrual dysphoria is way more than pms) and after the holidays and that, I will not feel so hateful. Just relieved if I never have to see her again. Unless Dr. B happens to believe her over me, in which case, they should just put me in the hospital for the rest of my life because I can’t keep trying this hard to no avail.

I guess this rant is the result of being wakened 4 times this week at 6 a.m. by my child who insists on zonking out at 7 p.m. Even children don’t require 11 hours of sleep, their body is at some point going to decide it’s rested…But I wasn’t and I couldn’t get back to sleep because of the anxiety and racing thoughts…Now I have 3 hours before I have to meet a lady at the shop so she can drop off a TV (I am doing it for the customer, NOT for R), then I have to go to the snotty grocery store, with kid in tow, to get my chicken noodle stuff to bring to Xmas Eve tomorrow night, then at some point dad is stopping by to give me my gift cards because I told him I wanted to spend more on my kid (who does NOT deserve it for being so awful this week) but now I can’t because I have no sitter unless I want to ruin her surprise and she sees her dollhouse assembled at mom’s.

Would it hurt for something to go right on occasion?

Oh, and I had an epiphany with hard evidence during the night…The reason I prefer alcohol to fall asleep is I don’t even need to take a pill, it just eases me to sleep. I take the meds they prescribe, come midnight I’m so groggy I almost think I’m in the bathroom, then realize I’m about to wet the bed so I have to stumble in there, and then I wobble and bump into walls…A couple of drinks just mellows, it doesn’t have me walking into walls and tripping and too lethargic to go pee or get up with my kid. So…what sane person would choose disorienting pills over a better way? Not saying it’s healthier, but for my situation…it’s certainly better.

And FYI, doc nurse’s anti histamine Vistaril that is supposed to help me sleep….doesn’t do that and it did not help with the stress induced hives that started covering me last night. What a wonder drug!

Plus side, we put up our tree last night. Though the white had yellowed so I took a can of dark green spray paint and now our tree is green. (Yep, I really did that.) We decorated it together and it looks cute. Oh and after she zonked, I finally took a shower for the first time since Sunday or Monday. Yay me! God, during these deep depressions and the central nervous system dry socket, showering is an insurmountable mountain to climb…

Now I am awake, it’s barely light out, and I am dreading the long day ahead. My kid has been downright awful to me this last week and now I’ve got a week and a half of her being home. I think this is where I hit my wall. I am taking her to that godawful counseling center and saying WE need help. I need to learn how to handle a kid who is set off by the word no, and she needs to learn how to not go psychotic when told no.

I don’t see their cognitive therapy being of much help to either of us, personally, but hey, it’s therapy, at least I am following nursey’s advice. When it bites me on the ass and makes me more confused, as it always does, maybe I can find some shyster lawyer to sue them. At some point, you gotta start listening to your patients when they tell you something does more harm than good and sometimes, something does more good than harm.

If I can just survive til Tuesday…the hellidays are the bane of my existence. If I survive that…And sever ties with the shop…

Maybe I stand a chance of not ending up in a locked ward.

Then again, with my current regime, I might well have to be out in the street naked flinging poo before she thinks I need serious help.


FFS, anxiety

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , on December 22, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I woke 20 minutes ago at 4 a.m. in a dead panic. Guess why? If you answered “R”, ding ding ding, you win….well, nothing but you apparently pay attention to my ranting.

He showed up unannounced to look at the dryer last night cos Kenny was griping about me running up the shop power bill. I was not amused as I have not been amused for months by his unannounced visits, I was finally getting my kid to settle down after yet another day of being a mouthy brat. His appearance sent her into another hyper mode and she just yapped and yapped, which sets him off and he isn’t as tolerant as I am, which says a lot about him…So he starts muttering and snapping at her to shut up.

The stress of him showing up and interacting with my child is bad enough.

THEN he starts in on how he can’t wait to watch all the democrats go down and Trump has done so much good for this country and I just sipped my mangorita (hells yeah, the man brings them, I am drinking them or otherwise I will Z Whack him with a fucking hammer, kiss my ass, nurse doc!!!!) and tried to not engage the topic. My darling child starts in on my hot button issues like the Trump administration taking away servers’ tips and net neutrality. She’s 8, she doesn’t care about politics but oh she does care about stirring the pot. There I am trying not to get the whole thing started because I’ve waved the white flag,I don’t want to discuss politics with someone who can’t even agree to disagree.

Just got worse from there. He bitched about my laundry room being so dirty and told me to play Twister trying to get stuff out from behind the dryer while he took it apart. Um…It’s been there 7 years and brute as I am, I can’t move a fucking dryer by myself and never saw the need just to pick up some lint balls, a few stray socks and some curtain rods that fell behind there. Oddly, all the voltages checked out and he put it together, fiddled a bit and it was putting out heat.

Then he left and I went to put a load in and…no heat. And I sent a catty text which he never replied to but I am fed up with him making cunt-y (yeah, I said it!) remarks about how I probably just didn’t have it on heat setting. For fuck’s sake, you arrogant elitist prick, I’ve been using a dryer since I was 12, I think I can read hot and cold and definitely discern the difference when my clothes have been drying an hour and there’s no heat in the drum or vent!!!!

Then came him starting in about the cars, which is what he always does to divert my anger. OOoh, something shiny I am going to pay for, look here, don’t mind what a jackass I am…And I just played along, because I hate confrontation and especially at the holidays and I know he isn’t a bad guy deep deep deep down (like maybe in his bone marrow) but since he got a ‘real’ job and doesn’t have money problems anymore…he’s become insufferable in every way, just like he was in the 90’s. Only less fun.

And he’s totally forgotten or is in denial about me taking two weeks off with my kid.

I will wait til Christmas day, Ninja to the shop and return the key with a note, nicely worded or not depends on if the pms and depression and anxiety level up…But I have to be done with this daily torment. It’s got to go. And I now see why I aggravated my counselors, because I do have to drive a topic into the ground before making a decision. In all honesty, without the stupid mood stabilizers and therapy shoved down my throat, I would go with my heart and gut right off instead of questioning my own motives and feelings for months and years.

In that way the psych pros totally ruined me.

I can only be better of the people around me are willing to be better and that ain’t happening. They just keep devolving.

So maybe in spite of the mood stabilizers keeping me full of self doubt about my motives…I need to say fuck off to this whole situation, if only to keep myself from the psych ward. This waking in a dead panic has been going on for months now and while psych nurse wasn’t concerned…I am concerned. This is no way to live and certainly no way to heal and get back on my feet.

Now…I have 4 more hours I can sleep but even with a Xanax…the panic has subsided but the spinning thoughts have not so most likely I won’t fall back to sleep until ten minutes before the alarm goes off. And I am dragging my wet laundry to the shop and drying it and they can both kiss my ass. I have to take my kid with me as school is out so it’s gonna be a miserably long 4 hours but once I do this…we’re squared. And getting out from under his thumb is as crucial as taking my next breath.

What kind of psych professional doesn’t say, “This relationship is really detrimental to your well being, maybe you need to step away for awhile?”

I don’t want to be petty and nasty and say doc nurse sucks at her job…but….her bedside manner is very lacking. And I hope it doesn’t result in me having a mega meltdown and having to go into the hospital. Because with my luck, as she is my psych provider of record til I get back into D. B, so they’d have her come see me and…I’d be looking to jump out of the first window.

I wish I were joking.

Some of the worst stressors for mental health patients are the “kind, well intentioned” people.

#Not Everything Is My Fault Just Because I Have A Thought Disorder

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , , , on December 21, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Okay, so yeah, I am totally making fun of Twitter with the hashtag symbol because I think it’s asinine but til the season to be catty…

I am at the end of my rope with the sleep disturbance, R, my kid, and today I came to the shop with some bedding to dry and Kenny started in on when is he going to fix your dryer, this is costing money on the power bill…

Cripes, cut me a break here, flying spaghetti monster, God, Budha, whatever deity is pulling the strings of suckage.

It took forever for the melatonin to kick in last night. When it did, it was after 9:30. And bam, I was awake at 10:18 and while checking the time on my phone, I saw I had missed a call at 9:49 from his highness. Four years of being told not to call after nine p.m. as it impacts the effectiveness of my sleep pills and he still disregards it, ffs. That got the anxiety and agitation flowing. I woke again after midnight, after one, then around four, and on the one day my kid could have slept in an extra 15 minutes because it’s pajama day at school so there was no fashion crisis to battle…she wakes at 6 then wants to cuddle in my bed which entails her yapping, squirming, kicking, and basically not cuddling, just irking me. So the sleep experience was shoddy, as usual.

But since she woke me up, my brain started rioting again, stressing over R and this shop and oh, the hellidays. My sister and stepmonster had a public incident at Wal-Mart that involved kicking each other-all because dad and stepmonster got a Christmas card from one of my sister’s friends they don’t like and they were mad my sis gave out their address. WTF? This friend has been to their house multiple times, and all she did was mail a card, why is that kicking in public worthy? Of course, later the stepmonster called to apologize to my sister for being an ass but still…It does not bode well for the hellidays at mom’s house with dad’s faction and sis’s friends’ faction all present.

Already dreading it because this monstrosity of a dollhouse mom got my kid is like 4 feet tall and taking days and two people to assemble and we’re not even sure how to haul the damn thing home outside of dad bringing a truck into town and they bring the SUV for Christmas so my kid will have a toy at grandma’s she can’t get home til after Christmas…and Spook has already been on the warpath because I told her Santa couldn’t afford any Pokemon stuff cos she wanted a tablet and those cost a lot of money….so she had a melt down and started screaming and bawling about how I probably got her dollar store junk that breaks so easy and she hates me and I am the worse mom ever….last night’s battle was over her wearing her ‘favorite’ pajama shirt to school when it has stains on it. I finally relented because I wasn’t going to get peace otherwise and maybe that is my downfall, but I also told her when the kids tease her and the school turns me in for not providing my kid with unstained clothing, I hope she enjoys reaping what she has sewn. I may suck at folding and putting away laundry, but that child NEVER goes without clean, unstained clothes.

That’s pretty much been my entire week, her tantrums, R’s lack of respect, now Kenny making me feel shitty for using a dryer that isn’t his, isn’t on his property, and won’t affect the amount he pays to live here, anyway, because I already told R about not raising his rent simply because he doesn’t have time to fix my dryer. He was supposed to do it last weekend but oh, stuff came up. Yet the other night he was off to fix a neighbor’s washer cos wifey asked him to. I’VE BEEN WAITING SIX WEEKS FOR MY DRYER TO GET FIXED!!!! If this doesn’t help with my decision whether to burn this bridge to the ground, nothing will. I am at the bottom of the food chain and no amount of hoops I jump through will change this. He is who he is and frankly, it’s oppressive and dragging me down.

I have to break up with his shop and since I know that displeasing him comes with backlash, it will mean the end of the friendship, thus I’ll be breaking up with Mrs. R, too, and I really, really like her. But..I can’t live 7 days a week waking with panic attacks because this man is running himself into the ground and expects me to go along with him. It’s unhealthy. I’d be better off waiting tables or washing dishes. Then I’d know the boss would respect me enough not to call after 9 p.m. and oh, I’d be making minimum wage instead of waiting for this elusive promise of a car which isn’t even necessarily the car I want.

Sounds so simple.

Doing it gracefully….not so simple. Last time I told him I wasn’t up to doing his shop bidding he went off, told me he was carrying me, and that I needed to stand on my own two feet. We didn’t speak for 5 months.

I hate burning bridges but some people leave you no choice. I will attempt to do it in a semi professional manner with a resignation letter utizling positive words and emphasizing no ill will. What he does after that is out of my hands.

Now…to work up the nerve to do it. Man, one thing the counselors could have taught me was how to handle confrontation gracefully. I suck at that.

But then, when everything always ends up being blamed on you and your wrong perceptions, every single time….You start viewing it mathmatically. If you have a problem with 99% of the people you encounter the only common denominator is you, so you must be the only problem. YOU suck.

Except sometimes…it’s not me. And sometimes, it’s a little me and a lot of others. I have no problem owning my faults but when I am trying to be honorable, respectful, and honest and it bites me on the ass because someone else has a personality disorder…

Hard to have faith in the goodness of people when they keep proving you wrong.