Archive for October, 2019

Something Awesome This Way Comes

Posted in anxiety, depression, S.A.D with tags , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

To be cautiously optimistic…This week has had some awesome surprises. The weather has NOT been one of them. Highs of 37, days of gloom, lots of rain (which ruined the first night of trick or treating for the town kids pretty much) BUT….Monday night, R fixed our hot water heater, all it amounted to was a loose solder joint that I must have bumped with the broom when I was on my mad cleaning binge. Tuesday by noon the repair guy had the furnace up and running. Spook’s metadate finally got approved by insurance. AND I got an emergent appointment with the telepsych and ermagod…HE IS BLOODY FABULOUS. He’s a little older than me, but so laid back and he LISTENS and asks questions and does not just hand down edicts. I GOT MY 1MG XANAX THREE TIMES A DAY BACK! For the first time in 10 months, I am starting to feel calmer and less…whacko. He also started me simultaneously back on Wellbutrin and added Cymbalta and said he’d see me in two weeks. I walked out of that appointment feeling so validated, like a human being, after months of that psych nurse making me feel like I wasn’t even a participant in my own care…

Just…awesome.

Not as awesome is that our microwave is now on its last leg and overheats if used over ten minutes at a time. I gotta unplug it and let it cool off then plug it back in and it will work again. I told my sister no way so many things could go right without something sucky happening. And no, I don’t believe in that self fulfilling prophecy bullshit where negative thoughts causes bad things to happen. I don’t care if you are the king, queen, duke, and duchess of negativity. Thought does not impact the functionality of a microwave. Fact is, it came out of an apartment people bailed out on, owing rent, and the then it was given to us for free, so chances are its issues pre-date us owning and using it. Shit breaks. As long as I can keep coddling it and using it, I am not gonna spaz out too much.

Another sucky thing yesterday was out of the blue, my dad called and told me to follow him to his mechanic out in Bumfucktu (literally, 18 miles out of any town in the country in the middle of bloody nowhere) cos he had to drop it off for an oil change and had no one else to bring him back home. Driving with my father is about as enjoyable as a root canal minus novacaine. The whole way back he kept saying, your car is making this sound…that sounds like (x) is going out on your car…There’s that sound again when you accelerate…GEESH. It’s a $450 car I’ve been driving 18 months, it wasn’t perfect when I got it, won’t be perfect any time soon. It goes from point A to point B pretty reliably so whatever issue it is having isn’t keeping it from working…The man is stress on legs, he isn’t happy if he isn’t bringing someone down with his bad juju. But saying no was not an option as, and he reminded me, he did pay for me to get my oil changed so I was in debt…

We got half an inch of snow overnight and it is below freezing right now so the sidewalks and shit should be nice and slick for the kids running to catch the bus. Snow on Halloween, that is so fucked up. Least last year Mother Nature had the decency to wait for the first week of November before turning fall into stone cold winter.

I woke a little after 5 a.m., to my own chagrin, but I was in bed by 9 last night cos, I didn’t sleep well the night before and the new meds were making me tired. Maybe an early bedtime results in waking up too early. That or I need a higher melatonin dose to keep myself down. My sinus drainage is drowning me at the moment, going back to sleep even for an hour, was not going to happen. I am hoping even though she is only one dose in that Spook does not have a morning meltdown as she has had the last 3 mornings minus her metadate. Yesterday she went bonkers screaming and hitting me and name calling and telling me how I ruin her life. I wrote the teacher an email explaining the new med and also how upset Spook has been with me for ‘making’ her particiate in the extra help group, which she claims the other kids call idiot class. The teacher denies that they do this but I went to school, I remember how mean some were to the kids who got special help and I don’t think ten year old brains really change that much cos, ya know, they are ten and kids are jerks. And teenagers are bloody monsters so my kid is either gonna have to get some armadillo skin or she is gonna get shredded. My rule was always, never give an inch, never let them see you upset, never let them see you cry, when they were bullying me in school. I kept my head up, I battled cruelty with sarcasm, and then if I needed to fall apart, I waited til I was home safely and I plotted their demise in gruesomely creative ways in a journal. And it helped and I never hurt anyone or myself. But once they know they have the power to get you crying and upset…You just can’t let them have that power. Spook needs to learn resilience.

Which does not mean the hurtful things won’t stick and make an impact, it’s just about controlling what you can. You can’t make them not be jerks, but you can choose to save your tears and hurt feelings for later on in private so they don’t get the satisfaction of knowing they have the power to hurt you.

Though I gotta admit there are times I question the validity of my kid’s complaints. The way she has melted down on me and lashed out this week alone, blaming me for every tiny thing, screaming, calling me names, bawling, hitting, dramatizing something as tiny as me not getting the temp of her hot cocoa just right…Part of me thinks maybe she brings some of this ‘bullying’ on herself by acting out so erratically. If a kid playfully elbowing you or closing your locker on you makes you start screeching and ‘having a mental breakdown’, well…Gator skin is needed. I myself wouldn’t mind gator skin and a Teflon coating cos I know I can be too sensitive and sometimes without legit cause. Maybe over time she will learn this, too.

It does not feel like Halloween. I do not have the happy vibes but the snow on the ground and how cold it is have really knocked my internal calendar for a loop. Feels like it should be mid December, not October 31. Pisses me off to be robbed of my Halloween joy. We still did our Medusa twins costume last night and will do it again tonight. (Basically I got rubber snakes at the dollar store and glued them to black shirts and wrapped some around headbands with pipe cleaners so the wire makes them stand upright and look ready to attack.) I don’t want to get out in this nasty stuff and she did go out with her little friend last night and his dad, so maybe she will decide she wants to stay in where it is warm. Or I may text A and see if he will take her again with them, they are going to a safe trick or treat in the town where my dad works. Maybe I can offer up a trade and arrange a playdate for them this weekend so he and his woman can have a break from their kid and spend some time together.

It feels so bloody wonderful to have repaired the damage of my depressive inertia and have the house in good enough order that I am no longer blocking entry to her friends to protect my dirty secret. And I am trying to keep up with it, small consistent efforts, but honestly…housekeeping is never gonna be my strong suit. Others may get shiny happy feelings from cleaning but I do not. There is never gonna be a day when I get giddy, “Oooh, gotta get these dishes done and dust those shelves and scrub the baseboards….” NOPE. Domestic goddess is my sister. I am more, “You dropped your food on the floor? I don’t see cat hair on it, eat it anyway.” And I have an awesome immune system so my way works even if a little gross 😛

I am really nervous about this new shrink and the new med combo. I am thrilled that my Xanax is back at its working dose (and I am free to use the full dose without feeling like a misbehaving child, or not take it all if I don’t need to, I am back in contol) but my luck with medications has been iffy so…what if the old combo does not work? He said he wasn’t convinced I needed antidepressants and I know my jaw must have hit the floor cos I said, “I am depressed, of course I need an antidepressant and monotherapy does not work for me.” If he isn’t familiar with med resistance and gets bored quickly should I not make a miraculously comeback mentally…That is a lot of stress on me.

But at least he is a good guy, even if he’s just a face and voice coming out of a big tv monitor. I think he could have been the Marquis de Sade and as long as he was flexible on benzos I’d call him a step up from that inexperienced narrow minded nurse practitioner. Even he seemed baffled as to why she kept yanking my Zoloft dose when the higher doses were making me feel worse.

Half hour before I have to wake Spook. God, I pray she isn’t spewing pea soup today. Her meltdowns (tantrums, my dad calls them, but I recognize the difference between that and between mental health issue induced meltdowns) really take a lot out of me. It isn’t just her calling me names and hitting me. It’s just feeling so powerless to help her, knowing most likely the problem is a chemical imbalance in her mind. I try to always be aware if she is melting down because she was told no and didn’t get her own way- a tantrum- or if she is on overload from her own emotions and thoughts. Because while the ‘normals’ may not get that there is a distinct difference between a childish tantrum and a mental disorder induced meltdown…I’ve lived it, I’ve been the one accused of tantrums when in fact my mind was in chaos and crisis and what I needed was a chance to calm down, to regain equlibrium, to be understood and shown empathy. Berating the mentally disordered for behaviors we can’t always control entirely is cruel and not the least bit helpful.

Maybe the metadate will at least get her back on track. And the xanax-and tidier house with working heat- is bound to have a positive impact on my mental health even if the meds are a succcess or failure. Things are looking up.

The one thing I cannot change, at all, is this garbage weather that impacts my mental state so much. The idea of 5 to 6 months of this endless gloom and wet and snow, dark at sunrise, dark before 6 p.m….Seasonal depression is a monster and I am fresh out of Zwhackers.

I plan on finishing season 4 and 5 of Z Nation this weekend, INTERNET GOD WILLING, cos our Frontier service was down from 9 p.m. Monday until 5:30 p.m. Tuesday. It is so unreliable they should be giving it away free. NEVER GET FRONTIER INTERNET IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER OPTION. Oh, and never ever move to Armpitopia where there are no other viable options.

All in all, though…my bills are all paid, we can take hot baths, we have heat, we have meds…Having gone without hot water or heat or our proper meds, this is a huge positive for us.

Tomorrow I will start melting down because I have NO idea how I am gonna buy my kid’s Christmas without child support. I literally have $45 left from my check after paying rent, heat/electric, net/phone, water, insurance, then I gotta buy meds, cat supplies, toilet paper, etc…There just isn’t a spare cent. My dad is already on me to get a job but until I can look someone in the eye and vow that I am stable and reliable long term…I don’t know what it is I could do for extra money unless I could work from home somehow. I rock at word processing, buying things at the lowest possible price, reviewing pop culture media, and writing loooong topic bouncing blog posts on mental health and pop culture…Other than that, I’m not good at much and with the upcoming hormonal dysphoria on the horizon…I can’t commit to my current ‘bathing every other day’ standard.

Guess my kid will just have to get her grandma and aunt to spend all their money on her Christmas and I will somehow find her a few dollar store things. She ends up bored with it or breaking it by day two, so I am okay with them spending lots of money on her presents. I told her until she stops destroying everything she doesn’t deserve expensive stuff. We are talking about a kid who got a tablet last December and it was broken by May-her 4th tablet, so eletronics and Spook don’t mix. She got a new dvd player in April and it’s already broken. My mom spent $250 on that monstrous dollhouse and Spook barely played it six months before getting bored and never playing with it again. I know my kid, and she’d be a little disappointed but likely just as happy if I got her $20 in slime. All it boils down to is my mom and my sister’s mentality of who spends the most loves her the most and they are the fun good people she likes best.

I’d prefer my kid love and respect me than like me. I can be her friend when she’s an adult. Right now, I am her mom and that means sometimes, I gotta be the bummer ‘I don’t have the money for this or this or this’ adult and it breaks her heart and there are tears but…We always have heat, shelter, and food so let my mom and sis be happy fun ball money spenders out to win the popularity contest. I am busy trying to be a fit parent and keep my kid’s needs met in the long term, not just for one evening joyful gift unwrapping. I can live with not being happy fun ball.

Bottom line is, my kid’s tempestuous and while me not buying her whatever pricey gadget she may want may make her cry and hate me for awhile…in the end, she comes out of it and after spending time at Grandma’s where they seldom have enough food…she is thrilled to come home to me, knowing our cabinets are full and so her belly will be, too.

Okay, I did not mean to write a novel. But here it is. Boil it down to-things are looking up. I am wary, of course, that something bad may be coming but…for now, something awesome this comes. We will gladly take it.

Gloom Mongering

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , on October 28, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Yesterday it was sunny and 67. Today it is 37 and gloomy. Fall in the midwest, bloody brilliant. I did not sleep well. Was up long before the alarm, to my chagrin. The child support that came in was 1/3 of the usual amount so I guess the donor quit or got fired or some shit, sounds like a final partial paycheck payment to me. I overestimated and gave him six months at this job but it’s only been 5. I guess I should not make assumptions but the last couple of times we went to that store he wasn’t working, and he always was before, so it pans out. I don’t know what the man’s problem is, when he was with us, all he wanted was his godawaful gas station job but now, he can’t commit to anything but fucking up or flaking out. Was about this time last year he got fired and stopped paying. I loathe making it about the money but when it’s the only contribution being made in Spook’s existence, it becomes pretty crucial. Now how am I gonna buy her Christmas? Or get her a dress and shoes for the dance this weekend? Bloody hell, what came in today will barely fill the car’s gas tank. I guess I should have been saving but oh wait, you can’t save when every cent is accounted for just for monthly bills and food. Oh, well, this is life, it sucks like a Hoover, get over it.

My kid woke up channeling six kinds of satan. She refused to take off the sweatshirt she was wearing for 2 solid days, started screaming and kicking and calling me dumb. I didn’t back down, though. Gave her a swat or two on the butt for kicking me and handed her a different sweatshirt. She kept screaming but relented on that issue. It took me a half hour to get her to calm down and stop acting out but by the time the bus was coming, I had her laughing. It’s a gift I have, recognizing these dark moods she has and using warped humor to lure her out of it. Doesn’t work every time but I try. I know she hates school and she is especially pissed because the teacher is getting her into the extra help group, which she calls ‘idiot class’ cos the kids make fun of those who have to go to it, but…I told her if she’d raised her hand and asked for extra help before devolving into Ds and Fs, she wouldn’t be going to the special class. I am honestly at my breaking point with her, nothing pleases her, nothing is ever her fault, and she simply refuses to put forth the effort while bawling how she’s a victim.

Is this what I do? Have I taught her this shit?

I like to vent and I don’t always see my own hypocrisy but I damn well try. Try to do better, be better. And while I strongly believe mitigating circumstances do impact our choices and behaviors, I don’t believe I have been shirking my own responsibility. I turned the house into a biohazard eviction worthy hot mess with my depessive inertia but I owned it and I fixed it. So…can I really blame myself for kid’s shortcomings?

Which my dad is all over me about. He called yesterday and ordered me to order her to get dressed and they were going to give her a ride to church. I’d already asked her the night before if she wanted to go and she said no and since they didn’t bring her home til 11 p.m., I wasn’t going to force her to go. He made a big deal out of how I am ‘letting’ her behave badly but I simply don’t see it that way. There are times she will, when the mood clears, come around and take responsibility for her actions. But she is also ten and entering a whole new phase with puberty and such, plus the wrongly medicated ADHD, and his hard line tough love ‘be a dick’ method does not work for me or for her. I pissed him off but oh well, it’s MY kid. And now that she has admitted she mostly went to church because they ‘gave her stuff’ and ‘the god talk is boring’…I kind of admire her for owning up to not going for the right reasons and not wanting to continue to do so. And I don’t know why it’s any of my dad’s business. They think because we live in ‘their’ town suddenly our lives are their concern and they are not. That sense of autonomy and not being on ‘their territory’ are what I miss most about living in town. They taint everything they touch. Stepmonster sent Spook home in tears because my kid said something was ugly and this grown woman said, “Your face is ugly, too.” WTF? It boggles the mind how immature these allegedly grown-and in my dad’s case, elderly, people are on an emotional level. You can hold jobs, go to school, pay your bills, own your property, and have cash in the bank but none of it amounts to being emotionally healthy.

I won’t say I am the poster child for being mentally healthy but compared to what I have been over the last six months…I feel pretty damn clear and level at the moment. I mean, the depression and anxiety are there, but I am not spinning out or feeling confused or in any particular turmoil on an emotional level. I don’t know why nothing makes me feel less sad or nervous, but I don’t feel particularly victimized. They push therapy like it’s a cure all but truth is, you can only go in week after week and rehash the same mental health disorder symptoms-which are not cured by therapy- before it becomes as depressing as your depression. Therapy is for triggers, for situational issues, for long buried traumas…and at this time…aside from my mood issues and money problems, I am not feeling tortured or fragile.

That is subject to change, of course, as bipolar is a never ending roller coaster ride. Mood stabilizers help a lot but with rapid cycling, nothing stays static for too long. And the doctors here SUCK at dealing with rapid cycling, they don’t know what to do with it. So much easier for them to say it’s a personality flaw like borderline.

Which I am coming to think is a catch all they use for people who have had bumpy lives and gotten their emotions jumbled one too many times so when we can’t play it out like ‘normals’, well, it’s because we are flawed and can’t regulate emotion. Which, correct me if I am wrong, is kind of the definition of all bipolar disorder diagnoses, inability to regulate emotions due to the fact that our chemicals are imbalanced????

Okay, so I have some emotional stuff going on, but nothing that’s got me gnawing on my fingernails or clawing my own skin.

This week, I just want my kid to get her working meds approved and get the damn furnace working. That’s all I need to go right to feel like we got a win or two.

Though with this topsy turvy weather pattern that has started, with sunshine tomorrow, then gloom and rain on Wednesday, my moods aren’t like to level out any time soon. Damn seasonal affective disorder. I wish my mood could be tied to something more static, because midwest weather is the very definition of bipolar. And if likening bipolar disorder to the weather offends anyone, oh well. I call it like I see it. One day sunny and warm, one day cold and wet, up down all around…BIPOLAR AF.

Spaztactic

Posted in anxiety with tags , , , , , on October 26, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I am having an adverse reaction to my kid being gone. I had NO idea when I let her go with my dad’s crew they’d still have her at 9:30 p.m. and not one word on what is going on. Have they decided to keep her for the night? Are they waiting for the rain to die down before returning her? (as if it has let up an iota in 15 hours.) And it’d be so easy to call and ask what the deal is but…then they’d know exactly how neurotic and kidcentric I am and it’s embarrassing. She’s ten now, not a toddler, and it’s not like I haven’t spent time without her…But this low dose Xanax is doing fuck all for my general anxiety, let alone the panic attacks, and this…is triggering major anxiety attacks and panic attacks. I have been pacing the floor to the front door for hours, waiting for the sound of the door or a car. I NEED my kid home where she belongs. Actually, I NEED an answer, yay or nay, as to whether they are bringing her home or keeping her, THEN I would be much better. And I could so easily make that call…But I am stubborn and it feels like I’ve been come too dependent on my kid, she is entitled to space and independence and freedom from my neuroses so…

I pace and panic and feel freaked out and spaztic.

As if the situation with our broken furnace isn’t enough. We found out it needs a new motherboard which has to come from Iowa because the furnace is so old and they were damn lucky to find even one available at all, and I guess the landlord is balking at the expense but his son told me he’d cover it all nonetheless. Which gave me a bolt of panic because, yeah, I sorta read the lease and it seemed pretty standard that the landlord/property owner is responsible for repairs on the home and its fixtures…If I had to come up with several hundred to get the furnace going, we’d have no choice but to move. But as his son said, it may have been our cats that took out $40 worth of ductwork, but it was years of basement humidity that trashed the furnace’s motherboard and that is not on us. I just…We’ve been here 18 months and this is the first repair we have ever asked for so the landlord balking at the expense baffles me. I’ve shelled out close to nine grand to live here these 18 months, if that isn’t work a working furnace maybe it’s time for him to sell off his properties and get out of the business period.

Anyway, the board won’t be in til Monday or Tuesday so til then, we are on space heaters and layered clothing. I really don’t want to tell him about the broken water heater. I KNEW I shouldn’t have tried cleaning the damn thing with all that loose willy nilly wiring. But that is a future problem. When I was 11, we rented a house and the hot water heater went out and the landlord wouldn’t pay to fix it and my parents did not have the money so for six months,our baths consisted of boiling large pans of water on the stove then mixing in cold in the tub to bathe. Pain in the ass but it didn’t kill us then and it isn’t killing us now. I managed a bath last night, after making a meatloaf. Then I hit my wall around 10 p.m.

I hit that wall around 7 tonight when I got hit with waves of nausea, cold chills, and just a feeling of sleepy exhaustion. Thankfully it passed but it has me wary that I may have the flu or something. I took no meds, drank no booze, so it was just so random and baffling to suddenly feel so sickly. Glad it passed.

Okay, it’s 9:40. Maybe she is still at the church shindig. I miss her. Her battery bunny motion and yapping make me nervous as hell but her not being here makes me more nervous. And really, I am ready for bed. The chills have passed to hot flashes so it’s less wanting to be unconscious and more just feeling exhausted. Chasing these kittens all day has exhausted me, crazy as it sounds.

Did I mention I want my kid home? Or at least an inkling of what the fuck is going on? And I definitely need a break from these kittens gnawing on me or the electric cords. This has been a very long, pointless day. I usually love the sound of rain but tonight it is irritating me. 15 fucking hours, going on 16, of nothing but rain hitting the AC unit, drip drip drip drip tick tick tick…

I hate being so high strung. I wish I could shut the anxiety down. Cut it off at the knees. Mercy it with a fucking Z Whacker.

Yeah, the Z Nation references are probably going to continue a little longer til I finish the final season.

It is the one thing making me feel some joy, though after 8 episodes today, I did have to stop watching it because, shocker…IT WAS MAKING ME NERVOUS.

I just gotta laugh at myself or I will cry at my own ludicrousness. Ludicrous as it all may be, this is how I feel and it is very real.

Rain Drain And Mercy Proofed

Posted in anxiety, depression, S.A.D, seasonal depression, Seasonal Sffective Disorder with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 26, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I have sufferedfrom (and make no mistake, it is suffering) seasonal affective disorder since I was an adolescent. It comes every year like clockwork around the end of September/start of October, though there have been a few times it did not start until Novemner if the weather was stretching summer like weather longer. Every psych professional I have ever seen about this seasonal depression boils it down to the same (bogus) assertion that it is caused only by the shortened daylight hours and can only be cured with light therapy and exercise. I bought into their garbage therapy and bought the pricey lights that mimick sunlight and it doesn’t do a damn thing. Because I believe seasonal affective disorder (S.A.D) is hardwired into your brain chemistry and body chemistry so even if you rev up your metabolism and fake yourself out with false light…what it boils down to is the inablity to ever get warm and this immovable ‘veil’ that covers your mind for six months until the season shifts from fall and winter to spring and summer. That is how it is for me, anyway.

This is not to say that I entirely discount the impact sunlight has on mental health issues and mood. Just today alone, without the previous two days of cool gloom, is enough to make me miss the retina scorching skin torching sunshine I usually admire from indoors but avoid much contact with. It was raining when I woke at 7 a.m. and is still raining at 7 p.m., not one single break in sight. No sun. No warmth. I am already craving tomorrow’s forecast, which while not warm, is alleged to be sunny. That will warm the house significantly and it will lift my mood out of the gutter.

It just angers me that they oversimplify what I endure by chalking it up to nothing more than some missing daylight hours. It’s more than that. That is significant but my seasonal can carry over into spring if the weather is still cold or excessively damp and rainy. This rain, with the cold, does me in. Warm rain does not impact me as much. But we are on day 3 without sunshine, and 12 hours of solid rain…My mood has been looking up at the belly of a snake today, it’s so low. And much of that is tied to not having working heat and being cold, but also not even being able to step off the porch because it is so rainy and cold. I feel tied down, locked up, locked inside. That bums me out. And since I am now waking at 7 a.m. and it’s dark outside, I am going to likely feel this overwhelming lowness for the next five months. So sunshine plays a part but it’s not the entire disorder and being told that it is by so called professionals has lead me to believe they don’t know a damn thing about it other than ‘it’s the winter blues’. I wish it were that simple.

I pulled off a mom win and got my kid a ride to town with my dad and his crew so she might try to use her Pumpkin festival ticket but with the rain and cold, not sure if she got to or not. She went with and got out of the house, at least, and is at a church function right now. That’s 8 kid free hours I have had. Unfortunately, with three active kittens loose who like to mess with electrical cords, I can’t say I’ve had much mental or physical rest.

I settled into season 3 of Z Nation, where an episode resonated with me. The evil guy secured metal helmet thingies to the attack zombies barring the necessary kill shot thus “mercy proofing” them and…I kind of feel that way with my mental issues. I can’t even be put out of my misery. And it isn’t some dramatic boo hoo self pity thing. It’s just this feeling of not being able to escape feeling like shit.

I feel so good about all I have accomplished but other than regaining control of my home’s chaos and making it ‘worthy’ of others’ approval…what did I accomplish? Nothing is different inside my head. I still want to be asleep ALL the time. I still feel like I am crawling out of my skin with anxiety over every sound, call, knock. I did all this stuff to regain control of my life but frankly…it’s an illusion. I never did get a follow up call from my psych center since THEIR telepsych service failed. How is that remotely fair to me? How is it meeting any bare necessity standard of care? I don’t think this place is ever gonna have their shit together again. Last time it was remotely adequate was circa 2015. But that awesome doctor left necessitating telepsych cos they can’t keep shrinks and their standards for psych nurse’s is laughable. If I don’t have any hope for my standard of care and things aren’t magically fixed by having a clean house…what hope is there, period? Mercy proofed. No mercy. Just misery.

Think I’d prefer to battle the zombies. Might be hope for a better outcome with them. Least I’d have the satisfaction of killing off some bad guys instead of always feeling like I am at their mercy. And a psych center this inept and uncaring…Yeah, I’d have much better luck and hope for a positive resolution with zombies.

That could be the weather laden depression talking but at the moment…it is how I am feeling. I worked my ass off and now my home is tidy enough to pass muster with the masses but…it changed nothing inside my sick mind. So maybe feeling out of control worsened things, but being more in control didn’t really lessen things, either. I guess my unmedicated mind got this inkling that if I just stayed off the antidepressants and detoxed from them and got shit done, well, then I’d miraculously become bipolar one and only need Lamictal and feel all better.

Delusions of grandeur. Lovely symptom of bipolar, getting it in your mind that “maybe just maybe this time” will be the magic time you won’t need more meds instead of less. I wanted to be okay, I really did. But I am not. The only improvement is that off the Zoloft, I have no thoughts of self harm. But I also have no hope or energy or even give a damn so wtf…

I curse myself every day for not having just become a drunken pothead as opposed to this neverending and seemingly pointless effort at getting proper psych treatment.

To be honest, I am irked with the current state of how being a pot user is socially acceptable and somehow cool or kosher as opposed to being a drinker or cigarette smoker. If being stoned is my only option, I’m gonna have to stay miserable and retain my brain cells. Pot makes most people, me included, lose IQ points by the dozen. While politically that may be smiled upon these days…

God, it just makes me more depressed. I don’t want to have to become an imbecile to get through life or to be considered cool.

Fuck it, I stopped making sense even to myself three paragraphs ago. Rain drain, gah.

Frayed, Splayed, And Played Out

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , on October 25, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

It has been a stressful week. Think today is the first day I’ve truly had a moment to breathe because I have nowhere to go or be. Wednesday I put 90 miles on the car running to one small town for my oil change, then an abrupt trip to town for my kid to see her shrink because she is not doing well on Focalin..Then two pharmacies to find Metadate in stock only to find out insurance flat out denied the claim, period. Then had to stop by the landlord’s to get him to come see about the heat.To his credit, he was here not a half hour later and he made 4 trips but could not get it figured out so he called in a professional heating guy (Young inexperienced kid). Apparently our furnace has multiple issues in addition to its mainboard being dead and fried so we have to wait today for his boss to show up (they really don’t teach these noobs much beyond how to swap out an old board with a new one, it’s sad). My dad loaned us a couple of heaters which are helping keep us thawed but by Halloween night it’s gonna drop to 28 and snow so…we have GOT to get some bloody heat. But first the furnace is gonna need a new brain, er mainboard, and we have cracked wiring and crumbling vents so…it’s turned into a big mess, and having all these people coming in and out of my safe space has me feeling like I’ve been stripped down and splayed out..Bad for my nerves but at least I’ve gotten to the point of necessity where not even my neuroses is holding me back from dealing with the suckingness of reality.

Yesterday was a bucket of suck. I showed up for my first appointment with the new telepsych and…their stupid computers would not connect. So I had to reschedule and the soonest they can do is a month from now. I tried to impress on them that I NEED medicated properly since the Zoloft was such a fail but I didn’t even get a call back about it. Then we had to go to Podunk for parent teacher conferences where, not for the first time, I hear a teacher inform me that my child talks like ‘a 35 year old woman’. I apparently use the psycho babble a lot more than I realize and so my 10 year old writes about having mental breakdowns when the other kids stress her out. Gotta admit, that doesn’t make me feel like a great mom but there was no intent. This is me, this is how I talk. It seems much of Spook’s issues do stem from her disordered thinking, which apparently was not so bad when she was on Metadate. Supposedly the doctor’s nurse was still in talks with insurance about switching her back but…ARGH, NOTHING has gone right this week.

Spook won a free pass to some Pumpkin festival in town tomorrow for perfect attendance and I had to be the vile ogre to inform her…there isn’t enough gas left in the car for a trip to town and back and I won’t have a cent until Monday or Tuesday. She had a mega meltdown but I have cashed in coins, pawned all my dvds, I have NO options left. And it’s not like she isn’t going to get to do fun stuff, my brother is taking her to the local church’s weinie roast/Halloween thing Saturday night but I do understand that she ‘won’ this pumpkin festival thing, I just don’t know what to do about it. I guess times like this it would be handly to be more social and maybe have a friend or two who might loan me five bucks for gas money but…Honestly, small as my world is with just the kid, cats, and house…I am still frayed to the ends and overwhelmed. I can’t do social, I don’t have anything left to give anyone else.

And that leads to being played out. The seasonal affective has come in to play big time with the 20 degree overnight temp drop and three days straight of gray gloom. Even my Halloween solar lights are feeling it, they were flickering last night because there’s been no sun to charge them up. Toss in never being quite warm enough because we have no furnace (and I start freaking out that somehow it will be held against me as a parent, even though her room is quite toasty with that heater)…I have pushed myself as far as I can go and now I am just done. Stalled out. I’ve got nothing left. I am running on empty. Every night I hit 8:30 and even if I am not preoccupied with being too cold…I’m just tapped out mentally and all I want is sleep.

I had a ‘are you fucking serious’ eye roll moment at my non appointment yesterday when the nurse was checking me in. She’s been dealing with me every month for a year now and…she asked, “Do you have depression?” HELLO???? I am bipolar two, of course I have fucking depression, plus the seasonal affective. These people are so inept it’s pathetic but they are so nice and it’s obvious they’re just doing the best they can with what they have. But seriously, when my primary complaint every month is depression and you’re the one entering it into the file every month, but you still ask if I have depression? Is it a HIPPA violation to reread the file to check what you typed into it? It’s just bloody sad. And it was sad when I talked to Spook’s psych because she acted like she did not believe me when I told her Spook was not responding well at all to Focalin as oppposed to metadate. I KNOW that she SHOULD respond well to what is a better medicine, but she simply does not. I did well on Focalin, I expected it would work with her, too, genetically, but it simply does not. Why would I stress my kid and myself out more by saying it doesn’t work? Even the teacher says Spook is like a totally different kid than when she started the school year and the only difference is…she was on metadate then, and Focalin now. Why is it so hard for these local yokel shrinks/nurses to comprehend the trial and error science of psych meds? Just because it should work, and has worked in a hundred other patients, does not mean it will work on patient 101. So frustrating.

More frustrating is that I let all of this pile up in my mind, waiting for the ‘right time’ to string it all together here and now I am so chaotic, I can’t get it out fast enough or in a coherent manner and that is pissing me off and robbing me of the relief I usually get from venting this way.

So I’m just gonna say…I got the place into good enough shape that no one who has entered it and has the authority to evict me-has said a word about bad smells or anything not looking tidy enough…I had six months in a depression to get things in order and it didn’t happen. I let it go until the last minute and in under 9 days, I managed to undo six months of depressive inertia and biohazard status. I pulled it off. ME. There may be hope yet. For now, I’d settle for enough warmth to feel my fingers again and not need to cover my nose under a blanket. But nothing is perfect and at least I am on the right track at last.

Say a prayer to the furnace gods for me that we can get this sorted. I feel lousy that it could cost the landlord thousands to get it working but ya know, he let this place sit empty for a year with food rotting in the kitchen, and he never did a bit of maintenance on the furnace after we moved in, so it’s kind of his own neglect that lead us here. No way have we lived here long enough or used the heat enough to have caused the rot and decay going on down in that basement. But that’s me, I feel guilty for things even when it’s nothing to do with me. I have too much conscience these days, likely a desperate overcompensation for the years of being manic and having little self awareness or conscience.

I can’t seem to do anything outside of extremes, I think bipolar is hardwired into my DNA.

I need to find my gloves, my fingers are really cold. I could go in the other room near the heater but that is out of my safe space and I am saving that for when the repair guy and landlord and his daughter invade. Got nothing against them, them have been very decent and all, but my disorder addled mind sees it as an invasion….No idea where I was going with this line of thought except…I am off my fricking rocker.

Point Broken

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , on October 21, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

4 screeching climbing messing kittens, one tired fussbudgety 10 year old who waited til bedtime to spring her report card of D’s and F’s on me, and 5 phone calls in one day from my dad…stick a fork in me, I am DONE. Broken. I have got to put the brakes on the world and stop it now. Get off the ride. My anxiety has not been this out of control in days. Nor my mood in such a dark, hopeless place.

So I guess I went hypomanic after stopping the antidepressants all together and that was a fine 6 or 7 days but back to reality…I am in a deep depression with crippling anxiety and I am NOT coping as well as it may appear to others. I am ready to retire to Fort Blankie in the fetal position except the kittens are still screeching from their safe place I put them at night and the sickly one is just getting more sickly and no vet will take him til I get my check next week so what the fuck am I supposed to do…

I am livid that I have been so out of it my kid has been reduced to bringing home an F in reading. How does anyone get an F in reading if they don’t have a learning disorder? She managed a D in math but failed reading straight out? WTF? I tried to be the disappointed calm mommy instead of enraged hulk mom. But an F in reading, seriously????My God, that is such an affront to everything I stand for. Reading and writing are the ONLY things I am any good at (when not ending a sentence witha preposition, ha ha ha),I thought I’d passed this fluency onto her. Every year prior she never got lower than a C on reading. I am shocked the teacher didn’t alert me sooner that she was struggling this much. We will have much to dicuss during our vast 15 minute conference I have to travel to Podunk to attend Thursday.

It’s not like I hadn’t emailed the teacher to explain why Spook was struggling so hard due to her ADHD medication and the crap ass Meridian insurance not paying for the med that actually works….I guess I’ve just been in a depression and on bad meds for so many straight months, I lost…well, my mind, and took my eye off the parenting ball towards her grades. I assumed by fifth grade she could be trusted to tell me if she had homework, if she needed help, etc. I was apparently wrong. I’ve fallen prey to lazy parenting, allowing a tablet to be her babysitter and companion, while I just try to survive my own garbage. It’s never been this bad before, ever. Her grades or my letting her slip so low. Though I had no clue she was doing that poorly outside of struggling with math. God, I feel like the shittiest parent ever. But some of it falls on Spook for not asking for more help or trying harder, and also, the teacher could have given me a heads up long before report cards so we could have worked together to bring the F up. Spook has never had F’s prior to moving to this fucking backwoods Armpitopia and some of it, I think is her social isolation. These kids like her one day, the next they turn on her, and it takes a toll.

God, I have really made a mess of things this year. My damn mental problems have always been a hindrance, but…I really dropped the ball.

And I can’t make idiotic promises about how I will never do it again because…Hello, still mentally ill, still not properly treated…I can try harder and be more aware and surgically detach that damn Android from her hands if need be.

For tonight….life broke me. I am done. I can’t even enjoy Z Nation right now, my mind is so shattered, my anxiety so heightened. I just need to fetalize under the blankets and start fresh tomorrow. And definitely start calling that useless goddamn insurance company about getting Spook back on the medication that actually fucking worked. When this state turned Medicaid over to these HMO places, they really fucked over kids getting the care and treatment they need. Because we sure as hell NEVER had these med issues prior to the HMO change. Back then, the kid got what the doctor prescribed, period, no haggling, no substitutes. So, yeah, fuck you, Illinois, your ‘kid care’ didn’t improve for anyone that counts, like ya know, the kids.

Hypomania is kind of cruel if you think about it. I came up for air for a week or so and thought maybe I was on the right track, regaining my senses and sanity, and…it was an illusion. Such is the bipolar cycle. I watched a show last week where a woman sought to get out from under her father’s conservatorship because she’d been on stable treatment for bipolar for two years and the mental health judge was reluctant, stating that two years of stability really isn’t much time in the scheme of bipolar and its setbacks.

Which is hysterical because the people here think because I had a brief six week stretch where my med was working and the side effects hadn’t manifested yet, so I am all cured and need to get off disability and go back to work. If two years isn’t considered a long period of stability by mental health judges and courts…Where the hell do these morons here come off with thinking my 1 to 6 week half ass stable stretches mean total recovery and ready to take on the world?

I’m ranting now. What’s new. THis day sucked so hard, I’d have clean carpets if it had been a vacuum.

Woman down…Time to fetalize, blanketize, and hopefully…wake up in better headspace tomorrow. Not sure it could be any worse, I am wound so tight right now if I snapped someone’s head could get cut off. Suckage. Any day so awful it robs me of the joy of Z Nation is a day I probably shouldn’t have even gotten out of bed.

I give myself a D for coping skills and an F for parenting abilities.

Time to regroup and reboot the brain. May the melatonin kick in quickly.

Nervous But Okayish

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , on October 21, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Bumpy night for me and my kid. Both of us woke for no apparent reason so we were wandering about, complaining that we couldn’t get back to sleep, til close to 4 a.m. When the alarm went off, all I wanted was more unconscious time. She was channeling Satan, calling me names, fighting me over every tiny thing, including me not letting her wear her heavy winter coat on a 58 degree day. We have a sick kitten and I think it’s cos the mother weaned him too soon and there’s just not much I can do but try to comfort and nourish him with nutri stat. Sometimes a litter has a weakling, has happened many times before. You never know who will be a survivor, his mama was at death’s door as a baby when her mama cat abandoned her and I revived her with nutri stat. Idk, I am trying, but 4 screeching kittens, a hateful name calling kid, and my own mental discord…

I made a trip to town to get Spook’s script, for all the good it does. Got some groceries. Nothing better to do. It rained so our internet was down for over 28 hours. It’s up now finally but it is a windy day so who knows how long it will be up. Getting so bloody old, Frontier.

My dad called about getting the oil changed in my car, said he has the oil and filter and will pay for it, I just gotta make the trip out of town to the mechanic who charges the least. I don’t know my way to the dude’s house and dad started making fun of me, taking ‘you’re supposed to be computer smart’ barbs’ at me. I’ve never been good with maps or directions, and after the Nardil scrambled my brain, I’ve been even less able to find directions and follow them. But it’s always good when those you love put you down and tell you to become something you’re not just because it’s easy for them. He can’t run a fucking smart phone or computer, but he can find his way across the country with a paper map. I can run computers but I can’t even follow a street map. But yeah, make me feel more stupid about it, that is super helpful.

Almost 2 weeks with him working and few calls, I got spoiled. Three calls in the last two days and bam, my anxiety is back with a vengeance and my self esteem is taking a beating. Smashing, family.

I guess I am okayish, I am glad I got the trip to town out of the way but I feel restless…I don’t have any focus, or energy. Which ya know, could be because I didn’t get decent rest and mornings that start out with a kid screaming YOU’RE STUPID, I HATE YOU!, well, those drag you down. Not to mention the whiplash changes in weather which puts seasonal affective disorder into play. It is all dragging me down but I am trying to remain…upright. Did not say succeeding, just trying to maintain.

A healthy coping mechanism has been to start binge watching Z Nation from season one. That whole viral monster apocalypse thing cheers me up. It’s a hell of a lot more cheerful than realizing that even though R and I remain friends…his Republican tirades are making it very difficult to maintain any enthusiasm for it. I mean, agree to disagree, let’s just not discuss it since we’re not on the same page. But he still won’t let it go and it just puts me in this awkward position of either standing my ground and being drawn into a fight where I get berated for my liberal beliefs or I just smile and shine him on and say hmmm and uh huhn. Much preferred when our biggest issue was religion. He is much more willing to accept me as a Godless heathen than as liberal, he doesn’t try to force his religion on me. And prior to Trump, I never even knew he was a Republican, this political shit is something new that…Idk, I try to be tolerant but it is difficult when he is the only one entitled to his views and I am just a libtard who is wrong. And yes, he says it just like that.

Try to see the good in people and not focus on the negative, right?

Vampire and zombie outbreaks are just so damn much more pleasant than the current reality of how politics are dividing even the longest strongest relationships.

Yep, fiction is my go to coping mechanism when things get too muddled in reality. It works for me.

I really really wish someone would send me a Z Whacker for Christmas. Talk about a conversation piece to hang on the wall. That makes me smile. A lot.