Archive for the anxiety disorders Category


Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Quick post to say THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to those who donated today and were uber generous. Now I don’t have to choose between paying the water bill, insuring the car, and buying food for a week. Words just can’t speak how much it miss to Spook and I.

That being said…we are far from out of the woods and I hate the ‘needy bitch’ syndrome as much as the next person…If I didn’t have a kid, I probably wouldn’t be lobbying so hard on this fundraiser. But I found out today, through two different sources, that there are AMAZING DECENT PEOPLE OUT THERE and while, they may not know my daughter and me…they gave with their minds and hearts and…wow, just wow. YOU GUYS ROCK!

So until child support is restored…I am gonna keep pushing the fundraiser. If this offends you, well…you have free will to leave the page.

And while yes, my child is my primary focus…there is no financial aid here for pets so I am gonna post a pic of my beloved Godsmack doing her thing, giving me a facial with her scratcher pad cat tongue.

And we have 4 kittens about to be weaned so we need transitional wet food and kitten chow so if you wanna help out…you don’t even have to donate cash to the fund. Message me, I will show you a link to the page on that sells the cat food we need and the food the newbies need, you can send it directly to our address. Many places also offer e-giftcards sent to your email and we’re cool with that too. Asking for help isn’t easy, no matter what you may think. Spook and I are the proud but tortured owners of mega-consciences so if we’re asking for help which makes us feel worse self esteem wise…

We really need a HAND UP, not a hand out.

Consider it, please.

And now it is time for me to pull an old school Metallica and fade to black. For once, I wish the dreams would have a positive message instead of just reminding me of all my mistakes and how useless I am when I can’t even get work as a dogwalker.

OOOOOHHHH I made it past 10 p.m. before taking my knock out cocktail.

It has been a good day, indeed, courtesy of generous people, thoughtful people, humorous, people, and my own refusal to bend and break no matter what is crushing me.

Final awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww moment.

That is sleepy Miss Lacuna. And yes, she is named after the band Lacuna Coil.

Couldn’t you just O/D on her cuteness?


Sludgebrain Jammypants

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on October 7, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I have appointed this gray and drizzly day ‘pajama pant day.” I ran myself ragged all week over the money situation, the yard sale, getting bills paid and getting household supplies…I did whatever little chores tossed my way for extra cash, including housework for my stepmom and mileage reports for my dad. I allowed my brain to be assaulted by excess noise, I faced my fear of strange people meandering near my safe space (having yard sales use to be ok, but now, it’s like terrifying). The failing fundraiser, especially now that I actually have a plan for what I would like to do for the future toward making a living…And of course, guilt because a friend in a not much better spot was kind enough to donate $5 and we are so grateful but I ended up feeling bad for taking from her…

Last night I loaded up on 6mg melatonin, 1mg Xanax, 50mg Atrax…and I slept HARD. Not to say it was without the annoying sleep/wake cycle as it was, but…come alarm time to get my kid off to church…Snooze and I carried on our affair and I simply could not leave Fort Blankie until 10 minutes before she was picked up. So I am staying in my jammy pants with my sludgebrain today. I ran, ran, ran. Today I vegetate. Which has meant e hours of NCIS:Los Angeles, a show I didn’t give the time of day until we moved and had no net and just digital antennas thus making our viewing choices limited in Armpit…I’m cool with being introduced to new shows I never otherwise would have watched (like Bluebloods). I overdosed on reality, not I get to retreat into some good fiction TV for awhile. My reward for trying so damn hard even though it nearly broke me mentally.

While trying to avoid politics in this blog…I must admit I was pretty wrapped up in the Kavanugh hearings. And I am DISGUSTED that he now gets a lifetime appointment to the highest court in the land to mess with our legal rights. He was outed, even if people didn’t believe the ‘alleged’ sexual assaults were legit, but a long history of excess drinking and never ending ‘frat boy mentality’ added onto his hostile, belligerent testimony…I can’t help but feel let down by the very people who are supposed to support the rights of Americans.

The past is the past…but it haunts. I can’t get work in certain fields due to a mistake I made almost 20 years ago, far less controversial than sexual assault and uncontrollable blackout drunks…Yet this man gets to sit on the Supreme Court, all because one side of the fence has an agenda.

I suggest a new political party: The Human Race party. Where we vote our conscience, no matter what side of the fence they fall on. If I am still suspect 20 years later in the job market for a midsdemeanor, then the stench of scandal should have taken Judge Kavanaugh out of the running. He should have stepped aside out of decency. i would have. But that;s part of that whole human race political movement. Where you have a conscience, do what is right, and don’t behave like a petulant boy-man while claiming innocence and indignation.

No doubt these statements will bite me on the ass at some point but in Fort Blankie in jammy pants…we’re giving zero fucks about rocking the political boat and offended others. My conscience says appointing the man to the supreme court is akin to letting a pedophile work in a daycare. Makes me proud not to identify with R or D parties where the agenda topples decency.

Moving on…

I doubled up on the anti nightmare pills but still had such vivid dreams they were haunting. And in them, the theme remained the same. I was given way more than any person should handle while the ‘supposed good citizens’ skated away without taking responsibility and no amount of self help and selfless deeds I did mattered. Everyone held past mistakes against me and told me how horrible I was as a person. Because, honestly, that’s how reality is for some of us. SOME OF US.

Kinda like that whole ‘work hard and you can do anything you want and be successful.” My dad’s 71 and spent 43 years working 6, 7 day weeks, 14 hours a day, and often more, and he still brings home less money than the idget at Home Depot who manages a department simply because he’s a good ass kissing fake. Yes, we should all try hard, do our best, and hope for success but to set people up as if this is a given as long as you put in the effort and work hard…It’s bullshit.

Hopefully jammypants day will help recharge my overtaxed mind and body. Maybe help me gain some insight on everything that’s trampling my psyche, my personal stuff, as well as world events. Right now I have no clarity, just exhaustion and indignation and anger. Personally, I am not one to drink the poison and wait for the other guy to die. So by zoning out perhaps I can avoid this trap. Drinking poison will be my choice, not born of spite towards others.

That’d make me part of that whole R v D political mud wrestling ring and I’ve decided I’d rather be part of the decent human race, unpopular as it is. We all know the popular vote counts for shit, anyway. 🙂

Existential Existence

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on October 4, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Two words for today:

Not Good. Another night of nod off, wake up, nod off, bolt upright, get up, pace, sleep, wake up in a cold sweat filled with unexplained terror… Which lead to a morning of queasiness, dizziness, profuse, smelly stress sweat, shaky hands and feeling like I was going to faint in public. That off balance physical state sent me into an off balance mental state. So the whole point of going to town to get a list of stuff done was decimated because I needed to get back home before, well, I passed out. Since I got back, I’ve done nothing but watch Last Man Standing and freak out about the weekend.

It’s supposed to rain all weekend yet my dad paid for the ad in the paper to have this stupid yard sale at his address and it’s like 1/8 mile down the road, I don’t get how this helps me and Spook if I have to make six trips dragging everything down to their house. I don’t know why I let myself get bulldozed by him again. Maybe because I know my dad is like Tim Allen’s character in, well, everything. Hard ass show no emotion ‘if you help anyone once they never learn to help themselves so tough love it is’ guy. And if Spook should come up needing something urgently, ya know, like a trip to a better hospital three hours away which would take more gas than I can afford for a month, I need to curry what little favor I can with dad…

It’s asinine for a 45 year old woman to be so bullied by her own father. Yet I am, today, at least. My mental states seem to go up and down which is what leads the ‘professionals’ to conclude it’s borderline personality but I am beginning to see that it’s got more to do with how much quality rest I get. Over the weekend, the cocktail for sleep worked. Then it made me too groggy to function so I had to forego it to be a decent mom, which means I am getting no real rest…

And I start wondering what my damn reason for existent is. Spook? I mean, what if she’s the next Hitler and I am to blame? What if she cures cancer one day and I get to feel pride in ONE thing my whole life? And hey, btw, WHAT IS THE POINT OF LIFE AT ALL ANYWAY.

So I went to Dr. Google to get the true meaning of existential crisis and ha ha ha…apparently it’s also symptomatic of clinical depression. Feeling like life is pointless in the Trump administration isn’t a mental disorder, it’s a sign your brain still has life in it, ffs.

Oh but I am not supposed to say things like that, could offend someone. Could ‘out’ myself as a Democrat. Which my beliefs may align more with but I will not declare…

So…two donations in a week. One from our beloved friend A, and one from my mom/sister pooling funds. ZERO SHARES sans one kind soul re-blogging the campaign.


Pass just that link on and I’ll post an ice bucket challenge on youtube. See, that’s how sure I am no one will do it because, well, nobody really has. Way to go social media, don’t help those trying to help themselves which isn’t tough love, it’s just being an asshole.

So…I guess it’s gonna be a fucked up unorganized junk yard sale no one will even stop at because my dad robbed me of my sense of control and I can’t overcome the anxiety because my brain is an asshole.

In honor of current trend, let’s NOT think of the bad things, let’s just look at cat pictures.

(Btw, that’s my blue eyed girl, Godsmack, making our towel rack purr in the bathroom. She’s a feline ninja.)

Hey, Bipolar Anxiety- You’re A Nag

Posted in anxiety disorders, bipolar depression with tags , , , on October 1, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Had a good mental health day, accomplished some stuff, didn’t feel like drinking bleach or putting my kid in a dog kennel…

But now she’s asleep and it’s only 7:36 at night but my stupid brain has started nagging me. It’s the bipolar anxiety. Reminding me I have to be up early with her in the morning. My check should come but then again, nothing is going right. What if I take my little sleepy combo and it knocks me out too fast? I’d like to bathe while I have the energy and half ass motivation…But then again, what if I wait to take it and then I have a hard time getting up with her come daylight cos it takes so long to kick in? It’s almost 8 p.m. oh no I should be asleep by now or at least in bed watching TV….

Round and round scumbag brain goes with thoughts I try to squash down yet they…just stomp my ass instead. So, scumbag thoughts caused by mental health impairments…this song’s for you.

And don’t forget (please) to visit our fundraiser page and share it with others. Christmas is coming up and this loss of income through someone else’s actions really puts us in a tough spot. Oh, and Spook informed me she wants to be a Minecraft character for Halloween and the costume is $20 so…just a share is great, a donation is awesome. And again, read past posts since I put this blog up in 2011 when the donor abandoned us. We’re not scam artists, our story never deviates from facts. If you’re in a giving spirit, we’re a pretty decent cause.

We took in a pregnant cat so she wouldn’t be condemned to the pound (before the loss of income) so honestly, we’re not bad people. We like to pay it forward in whatever way we can. Please think about it, at least.

I’ll send you a plastic spork as a door prize. 😉

insomnia, shitty luck, halloween, humor, depression, lions, tigers, bears, oh my

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , on September 29, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I will try to keep this brief and half coherent. Last night when I was so tapped out…I was still awake at 3:30 a.m. in spite of melatonin. The donor’s job change/loss and no support payments have me freaking out.

Earlier I was a little hypomanic but I’m not convinced it’s anything to worry about. Coming off of meds, missing doses of others meds cos you can’t make the copay, it’s all bound to shake up equilibrium so I am more screwy than usual. But while I had that hypo burst I posted on all my blogs and I read and I watched some TV and later after my kid got home, we were even dancing together outside while waiting for my sis to come pick her up for the sleepover.

I was stunned when my sister handed me a little cash-courtesy of her hubby’s paycheck- so I could put gas in the car and get to town for my meds. I was also stunned earlier when an old friend contributed to our fundraiser (you know who you are if you read this, A, we miss you, cabana boy.) My sister’s friends are even chipping in with gifts of clothes for Spook. I honestly pity the donor if he encounters anyone who knows the situation in public. He is two spots below the top spot of the shit list, like only one under Trump. (sorry, fuck politics, I don’t like his personality.)

So my kid is gone and I had my bath last night so while it’s just turning 8 p.m. and I had hoped the hypo energy would last and last so I could get some stuff done around the place or try to write…I am fading. I need rest. The body needs to recharge, as does the mind.

So…donate if you can.

If you checked it out yesterday, look again. I changed the default pic to something I personally find hysterical in light of upcoming Halloween but my sister frowned upon it and said people won’t donate because there’s no sympathy vote. And I tried the honest ‘my kid/cats matter’ thing on prior campaigns and it was…lackluster though all appreciated. This time I just thought…set the campaign apart from the rest and make it ghoulishly funny.

Just sharing it on social media and friends could raise my donations 300%- so share, share, share.

And while my other blogs have largely been neglected for a couple of years. Now that I am off the lithium and my head isn’t Novacained…I’ve updated them all. Please visit, like, subscribe, comment. Word of mouth could really help us, even if it’s just to troll or insult me. No such thing as bad press, yada yada.




And this…my daughter wrote me a poem. Innocent and imperfect, but she reminded me…we have love. That’s worth a lot.

I’m gonna fall face down into my pillows now. 14 hours total sleep in 5 days ain’t cutting it. Fort Blankie and I have a hot date.

My Brain Hurts, Book My Lobotomy, Please

Posted in anxiety disorders, child support, depression with tags , , , , , , , , on September 28, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

It’s been a long day of finding out I am represented by an utter buffoon who knew two weeks ago the donor was not working yet failed to tell me. He was pretty proud that he’s tried to call and email the donor, to no avail, as if that helps with our loss of income. I called the state, public aide, I posted on my other blogs (batshit rantings here…Tried to keep my cool but I couldn’t even enjoy the premieres of my fave shows. I am worried sick about keeping my kid fed and the heat on and my hives have hives but I have no antihistamines…

I made a fundraising page and have yet to even get a share, let alone a donation, which I find frustrating. Especially after watching the utterly disgusting Kavanaugh portion of today’s hearing in which he exhibited all the wit, charm, and self possession of an Alsatian hound after a head swap operation. (Red Dwarf anyone?) People donate tens of thousands to these nasty politicians of every side even when they behave like spoiled little bitch boys (Dr Ford held herself with dignity,imho) but I can’t garner interest for something out of my control that impacts not simply me, but my child.

I have a whole rant about stuff I learned today but I am just wiped out. And ready for 2018 to stop kicking my ass. Mostly right now I’d give a kidney for about 100 mg Claritin, my hives are getting hives and the itching is driving me fucking mad.

Click Spook’s pic and at least share our story on social media if you can’t donate. We were starting to see the light of day, this was brought on us by someone whose actions we can’t control. Asking for help is our only option and a share counts for a lot.

Today’s Letter Is…EEEEEEEE

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression on September 26, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

E is for ‘running on empty’. I’ve been up 17 hours after only 3 hours of sleep and it’s like the zombie shuffle.

Exhausted. Ready for bed at 6 p.m. but oh, wait, I have the battery bunny of children so not only did running errands not give me a chance to nap…I am going to be hounded by the child for an hour at bedtime about whatever neuroses of the day she has. Killer clowns, West Nile, Intestinal parasites, ink poisoning…Pegacorn knows what it will be tonight.

I had to SWALLOW SO MUCH PRIDE TODAY because I have yet to get my child support money. I had to bum gas money from stepmonster. I had to go to Salvation Army for vouchers to the food and personal need pantries (toilet is kinda necessary)…I had to eek out money for my prescriptions and cat food from what was loaned…All the while flipping out that the money hasn’t come and DEVIATION IS EEEEEEEVIL. Maybe tomorrow? Oh, cripes, optimism kills my soul with a Z Whacker.

We are so screwed without child support. My check can handle the bills provided we don’t use heat this winter but…panic is not at the disco, it is at the mausoleum.

Even $5 can help so please consider it. Just check previous posts, my story is always consistent, there’s no deception or fraud or scam. Hell, I will give out my home address and accept gift guards instead of cash if need be. $20 at a gas station, Walmart, or Aldi is hardly what I would call gold digging. Spook and I are…struggling. I honestly thought I could see light at the end of the tunnel, sort of, but turns’s an oncoming train. I am buried financially.

My shrink appt went well. We’re gonna up the Prozac and add Vistaril to the melatonin in hopes it will improve my sleep disturbance. Except I can’t buy it til my check comes in since child support didn’t and that is 5 days away.

I am not greedy. I am just trying to stay afloat cos life keeps kicking me in the face and I have a daughter to think about. So swallowing my pills and pride is just a necessary evil.

I have implored and begged and offered hallucinogenic pegacorn dust for people who care enough even just to link to this post. You don’t have to promote the fundraiser but you could bring a couple of new followers who might be willing to help us.

MOM FAIL. My kid disobeyed me repeatedly while I was writing this and I close the tab and the whole post was lost and she played victim while I had a mini tantrum. (Not my finest moment but I did not hit her, I just reasoned with her, for all the good it will do.) I am so damned tired…

My brain needs a break. Sleep deprivation really does take a toll. I used to think, “Meh, I will sleep when I’m dead.” Now I feel like the walking dead cos I can’t get decent sleep. Bloody hell.

75 minutes til my kid will nod off and I can….fetalize under my covers and hope my brain will be merciful and let me sleep at least 5 hours uninterrupted.

i’m so tired and cranky I can’t even stand myself right now. Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream…or no dreams, just sleep. For the love of pegacorn.




75 m


I am not gre