Cave Woman Depressive Blues

(Okay, neither here nor there, but a show just had some dickbag saying ‘she had a bipolar personality’…it’s a fucking disorder, you douche!!!!!!!Also, benzodiazapine is not a drug, it is a class of drugs, and it is NOT used for bipolar mood swings, idgets! Do some fucking research if you’re gonna call yourself true crime. Oh, cripes, it doesn’t cause paralysis unless you take an entire bottle of the brand name mega dose bars….)

I digress.

It is 6:18 p.m. My kid and I had a good meal together and are getting along. I got chewed out again by my dad and his woman because my trash was too heavy this week. They told me not to empty the cat boxes outside and since I can’t afford clumping litter, I had to empty the clay stuff twice times four boxes so yeah, it’s heavy. Last week they chewed me out because I didn’t break down my empty food boxes flat to make more room…My God, when you can’t even fill a trash bag properly, they really have gone too far with their constant criticism. If I told them everything about them that pisses me off or irks me or gived me the creeps, they’d tell me to go fuck myself yet they get to verbally berate me on a daily basis….

One more reason to be situationally depressed.

But also NP is taking me down from Wellbutrin 300 to 150 so that’s gonna fuck me up for awhile, and I am in week two of my monthly PMDD, and then there’s that whole minimized feeling the appointment left me with yesterday…I just feel ready for bed. Not tired, just…sick of reality. And this isn’t even the first full day of my kid being home from school for 3 months. I can’t believe how well I felt prior to that appointment. All because they started tag teaming, treating me like I wasn’t there, and talking all these big changes before I am even fully stable for a month or two. And I bet they don’t have the slightest inkling or give a damn the impact they had on me.

I am restless and blank minded. I’ve done a few piddly things around the house and yard today but for the most part I watch TV, I switch to the radio, I pace, I watch the clock. I’ve got to find something to take my mind away from that NP, she is just such a minute part of my life, she does not deserve to have this kind of impact on me. Not when things were looking up. Best I can do is enjoy the next 4 weeks of not seeing her and then endure another appointment and try to convince her NO MORE FUCKING CHANGES for now. Then I meet with benzo nazi in hopes she might be able to educate her underling on the dangers of removing an antidepressant from a patient who is bipolar two with a history of clinical depressions and seasonal affective disorder. It’s ignorant and it is dangerous and it proves she does not know what she is doing.

Times like this I kinda miss R being my enabler with Mangoritas. It’s the only way to get out of my own mind when things get this fucked up inwardly. I didn’t say it was a healthy coping mechanism, just that on occasion, it really does give me the needed break and good night’s sleep I need. Unfortunately, I don’t even have enough money to buy cat food and litter for the next week nor even food so my daughter and I can have a decent meal Memorial day. The car is out of gas so we are stuck here for the next 7 days at least. I feel so trapped. So hopeless. And I know it’s hormonal and situational but that doesn’t make it any easier to survive the days where I feel this way.

I am back in the cave, falling down the rabbit hole, and it all started with my psych care provider.

That woman is toxic for me. When toxic is your only option due to coverage issues, well, what good is having health insurance???? Think I got better care as an indigent uninsured patient in the 90’s. Just bloody sad.

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