Archive for the Attention Deficit Disorder Category

Runaway Brain

Posted in anxiety, Attention Deficit Disorder, depression, seasonal affective disorder with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 18, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Either my unmedicated A.D.D hijacked even more of my brain chemicals to get so chaotic or the raise in Cymbalta has amped up my hypomanic energy but…wow, my brain is racing today. Wasn’t prior to taking my meds. Now it’s like pulling in six different radio stations on one channel and I don’t know if I wanna listen to metal, pop, country, dance, rap, or thrash so it’s all doing battle to get my attention and I am utterly confused where to go next. But nooo, I do not need Focalin at all, ass trash insurance company.

Nope, despite a relativity early bedtime and only waking six times during the night (6 is pretty good with my mega sleep disturbance), I did not have the strength to pull myself out of bed on this cool gloomy day. I hit snooze til 7:10 then did the Evil Daily Deed that is waking the spawn. It usually involves her growling and groaning and sometimes yelling at me so I have to scorch her retinas with the overhead light and pull the covers off of her so she can spew more pea soup at me…So on top of still being half asleep and having cramps, I had to deal with her daily wardrobe drama and Monday morning ‘don’t want to go to school, I am sick’ litany. (Which starts on Sunday nights, I call it Sunday-itis, how she hates this bloody school yet what can I do? And she isn’t even consistent in hating the place, every day is some new declaration of love or hate, puberty anyone?)

So far other than send the kid to school and take care of the indoor and outdoor cats, I have done nothing. Spook was supposed to have a dental appointment today but I left a message canceling it Friday since the car is out of gas. Then they started calling both phones and texting me about missing the appointment and I’m just like, not my fault you can’t check your damn messages, I gave 72 hours notice. Geesh. Just a cleaning, anyway. I guess a true grown up would have answered the phone and done a mea culpa, but the runaway train that is my brain just isn’t feeling the ‘adulting’ thing today.

Oh, I stand (sit) corrected, I have been proof reading an old novel I wrote AND THIS IS HUGE: I am playing music. Usuaully it rattles me too much and on this laptop it sort of sounds like crap, metal needs bass and metal and this has none. BUT yesterday I got dealt another death blow. MY DESKTOP COMPUTER STARTED EMITTING A SHRIEKING NON STOP BEEP AS I TRIED TO BOOT IT UP. I looked it up on line and it’s apparently a hardware problem which I know nothing about. R is out of town. My nephew is busy with impending parenthood, a paper route, a wife, and oh, reformatting my kid’s netbook. So much as I feel the stirrings of my creative writing trying to wake up, now my desktop computer won’t work. To say I am devastated is an understatement. I bought it used four months ago and even sprang for the warranty but hey guess what? You gotta send it to the warranty place and shipping for a heavy tower is around $30…(I only paid $49 for the tower,ffs!) I gotta stop buying old shit, shoulda known it was iffy since it still has a 3.5 inch floppy drive. But it was working fine, I don’t understand what happened. I made sure it wasn’t near the heat vent, that it has plenty of ventilation in back. Hell, I was in such a depression, I barely used it more than half a dozen times. I did, however, leave it in sleep mode for 3 months so god knows what damage that did. I had a bad juju feeling that if I shut it down something bad would happen and it did…

I can write blog posts, short stories, poems, letters, etc, from a laptop. But when it comes to 400 page novels and using external drives and creating pathways for my playlists and using my kick ass speakers…I need a tower to avoid overheating and avoid overtaxing its brain. Now…I am fucked.

But it was like I told my sister, every time something good happens, it is generally followed by two or three bad things. We got heat, got our hot water heater fixed, even got the kitchen faucet replaced and the bathroom sink unclogged…So of fucking course, my PC tower had to keel over. THEN my bedroom smart TV (used, $69) went spaztic and wouldn’t let me use my apps for two days and I reset everything I could think of, signed in and out, turned it off and on. Then I remembered a trick R taught me at the shop, how sometimes unplugging them for ten minutes can ‘reboot’ the system kinks and I’ll be damned after that, the apps started working again. Sadly that is not the easy fix for the living room TV. The IR sensor has failed so the remote does not work and we can’t access any smart features without it. That fix is gonna involve stripping the TV to its frame and about two hours labor and I know R will do it for me and not charge a dime but…he is never available, he just got shipped out of state again for his job.

Which lead to another clusterfuck in my brain because he warned me last night that IF they didn’t ship him out, he wanted to come hang out tonight. And when I woke so groggy and moody and crampy, I kept HOPING they’d ship him out, then I could avoid bathing and pretending to be social. When I found out they did ship him out, I felt a little bummed. Probably because his presence means I get free Mangoritas. I am shallow that way. I still consider it back pay for all the pro-republican tirades he put me through that nearly drove me to a nervous breakdown. Lately, though, he has toned it down greatly aside from the digs here and there about Democrats and especially the female ones Trump refers to as ‘the squad’ so that is what R calls them and I just find it so demeaning to the female gender. If a bunch of guys were like minded and such, they wouldn’t be labeled ‘the bromancers’. Oopps, that is a can of worms best left sealed and buried in concrete. Politics lead nowhere good.

Still not sure how I am gonna get Spook to her band concert Wednesday with no gas in the car. (I even emptied out lawn mower gas, but it was only half a gallon and that ain’t gonna get us to Dopia School) She has literally had ONE practice, and will have ONE more tomorrow and until 2 weeks ago she had never picked up a saxophone in her life. And band is only 30 minutes and most of that is instrument assembly so very little teaching. When she came home from her grandmother’s yesterday I suggested she get some practice in before getting on the tablet and war broke out. Tears, screaming, blaming me (which I had already heard from my mother, all because I dared to correct my kid for being mouthy)…She tried to tell me there wasn’t a single tutorial on line that might help her. I pulled a dozen up on youtube and she claimed ‘my tablet doesn’t get that’. Um, yeah, youtube is standard on Androids, duh. She does not like being caught in her lies and vivid imagination so she went bonkers over that. I eventually got her calmed down and she complained the sax didn’t sound right so she couldn’t play it. I warned her from the get that I know fuck all about music so I’d be of no help.

When she finally exited tantrum zone and started making a true effort, she actually impressed me with some of the notes she was able to make. She certainly has more of a handle on putting her fingers in different positions and remembering them. I tried to learn guitar but sadly, my brain is too scrambled. I can’t even drive a stick shift car, I am so scrambled.

So now what to do with myself since I was gonna write or try to, but the slave computer has keeled over on me. Damn it, could things ever just go right for a couple of weeks at a time instead of this ‘one good thing, two bad things’ bullshit? Whose Cheerios did I piss in?

I am so bloody sick of housework I could puke. But the other day by just saying fuck it and letting myself be lazy for awhile…I ended up accomplishing a few things. Like yesterday morning before Spook got home and it was 10 a.m. and I was doing dishes and hang drying laundry and sweeping and mopping. The more I bully myself the less I get done. And BFD if it is a do nothing, feel shitty day. I allowed someone into my inner sanctum to get that stuff fixed and that takes a lot out of me so maybe a few days of True Blood binge and not fretting over housework I can find my motivation.

And I also need to mourn the death of my desktop computer. The fifth one in a row. I am starting to think buying them used is a bad thing but since it is all I can ever afford…Amazing how I am still driving a $450 car 18 months later but I can’t get a computer tower to last beyond 6 months? I must be cursed when it comes to desktops. But I still want one so bad I’d pawn all my TVs to get one. Except for the fact the pawn shop guy pays about $20 for big tvs, less for smaller ones, so I still couldn’t raise the funds. How is pawn broking any different than loan sharking? You lowball someone desperate, jack the price up and profit…

Wow, my brain is totally off the rails on the crazy train today. At least it’s an ode to my beloved Ozzy.

My Brain Is Stampeding Today

Posted in anxiety, Attention Deficit Disorder with tags , , , , on August 23, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I can’t find any clarity today. The thoughts are coming too fast, too furious. Racing thoughts freak me out even if they are frequent. I had hoped for an ounce of clear thought so I could accomplish something around the house. Or at least find some solace in a quiet mind.

It is not to be.

Two shrinks said ADD comorbid with the bipolar two disorder. The others say it’s anxiety byproduct and will abate once the anxiety is in check. Which isn’t going to happen when they keep lowering the anti anxiety meds which is the ONLY thing other than Focalin that slows my mind enough for clear thought. To say I am confused and frustrated is an understatement.

I am thinking so unclearly these days, I literally had to call the shrink’s office on my kid’s behalf and ask them to do the math on what day I can pick up her script (they have a 3 business day policy from when you call it in to when you can fetch it) and also when the insurance would pay for it. I literally could not wrap my brain around the math and I can’t risk my kid experiencing withdrawal if I screw it up. The nurse there was very nice and helpful and set it all up for me, thankfully.

This reminds me of trying to help my kid with her 5th grade math. This common core bullshit is, well, fucking bullshit. Six steps to do what I can do in three. And it HAS to be done their way and as core math was never taught, or even mentioned, when I went to school, I am a bit lost. Fact is, highly educated as R and his wife are, they saw her 3rd grade common core math and even they had trouble figuring it out because it is so convulated with more steps than are necessary. I know there is a method to their madness but I can’t fathom it.

I am starting to think my NP also has problems with math. When she filled my Zoloft, she put it down for 155 pills. Well, seven days with one pill, then 21 days with 2 pills ain’t 155. And she is constantly giving me 90 days worth of other meds when they should only be a 30 day supply, then she renews the script so she isn’t thinking ahead. Her math is fucked up. I turned her in and it did no good at all.

See how fast the thoughts are coming? It is like a stampede in my brand and it is terrifying. I don’t know what to do with this chaos. I can’t even focus on watching my shows, which for the last several days were keeping me fairly focused and calm. That is out the fucking window now.

I am also itchy and twitchy with the superstition mom installed in me for itchy ears and nose meaning calls or visits and people talking about you.

If this is sanity and stability, I think I have a pretty good malpractice case against the psych center. When the head shrink asked if I was willing to keep seeing the NP, I should have said NO. I just didn’t want to make too many waves. Which was how I lost access to my fave competent awesome shrink and ended up with NP number 1 who was useless. I wanted to be agreeable because I know their staffing issues. My compassion and empathy fucked me royally. And the awesome doc left so likely I’d have ended up here anyway. Though had I stayed with him even the year he remained, I might have been on a better path. Then again, with my med resistance and sensitivity, I can’t really blame them as long as they are willing to go to the wall for me. Which current NP is NOT because she is so concerned with keeping the conservative regime set out by her overseer. Less pills would make me elated. Less pills are not what I need now. I need HELP. Aggressive help.

My kingdom for something to calm my mind right now. You’d think with all this madness in my mind I’d have all sorts of energy and get up and go but I am still wearing the same clothes from two days ago. I did a load of laundry but I have no energy to hang dry it since my dryer is broken. And the washer is making unfamiliar sounds so it will probably be next. I can’t catch a damn break here without everything going wrong.

I dream of a quiet mind. Instead, I have perpetual mental chaos. My luck is shit.

The Twister That Is My Brain-Attention Deficit Disorder

Posted in Attention Deficit Disorder, biolar disorder with tags , , , , , on October 4, 2015 by morgueticiaatoms

twister irfanviewTHAT is what my brain is like at any given time. A twister. A cyclone. A force of nature to wreak destruction and blow cows through the sky. (The cow was always my favorite scen e from Twister, not cos the moo gets hurt, but because it was…well, not factual thus funny.)

My shrink says attention deficit is a common secondary problem of bipolar. Our minds spin so fast due to the mood swings that it becomes a lack of focus then metastasizes to attention deficit. We look flaky, like we are lazy and don’t want to pay attention but it’s hard to do when your brain is firing off a dozen thoughts all at once. I am on Focalin and even it isn’t helping at times, my brain is just too….clusterfucked.

It worked wonders initially, but being med resistant…It makes sense that seven months at the same low dose would become less efficient. Still, it took me 7 years and five doctors to find one who’d even attempt to help by prescribing Focalin. Can’t really rock the boat. And besides, I’ve started to wonder if between that, and the hypomania inducing Cymbalta, are why my anxiety has become so heightened. I like the energy, I like being able to focus better (though certainly not at any level the McMuggles deem optimal).

Oh, how the thoughts swirl today. I could do this, that, knick knack paddy whack, give the dog a bone….

Yet in spite of coming up with projects to do, my salad of a brain can’t pull a single thought out of it all to run with. It’s all so fleeting, like blowing a bubble and it’s nice and big and you think you can catch it on your finger but then ,poof, it’s gone.

For a more accurate description, though I’ll be damned if the shrink didn’t get it and looked at me like I had two heads…It’s like trying to pull in one radio station but for whatever, you’re getting two fuzzy stations on the same frequency. So while your brain tries to follow the rock and roll station, the talk radio station keeps distracting you.

I hate this shit.

By the time I get a chance to do the “agenda” my tornado brain has created…I won’t have the energy. So when I have the energy, I can’t focus enough to do it. When I can focus, my energy is gone.

WTF brain.