Beautifully Random- No Snakes On This Plane

Welcome to my new beautifully random thoughts and links. I was asked if I ever write about anything but mental health and yes, yes I do. I actually have a pretty decent sense of humor for someone battling depression and anxiety. I also very strong opinions that may offend basic sensibilities so…you’ve been warned.

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Forget snakes on a plane…
Snakes in a pillow case outside a fire department.
https://www.cnn.com/2020/02/18/uk/snakes-pillowcases-fire-station-gbr-scli-intl/index.html?utm_source=CNN+Five+Things&utm_campaign=dd914c42fa-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2020_02_19_05_41&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_6da287d761-dd914c42fa-96359689
This sickens me, as I am a snake lover and only a monster would leave those poor creatures to the elements that way.
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Seems this is the week of the snake…
Snake orgy. Kid you not.
https://www.cnn.com/2020/02/15/us/florida-park-snake-orgy-trnd/index.html
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Never enough blonde jokes…
There once was a magic mirror which would kill you if you lied to it.

One day a brunette was doing her makeup and said to herself, “I think I’m the smartest woman ever!” She immediately dropped dead.

The next day a redhead was doing her hair and said to herself, “I think I’m the prettiest woman alive!” She immediately dropped dead.

Finally, the following day, a blond was flossing her teeth. She stopped and said to herself, “I think…,” and dropped dead.
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Always nice to know the president of the land of the free personally calls up homophobes to tell them not to apologize for their offensive tirades.

Limbaugh: ‘Nice Guy’ Trump Called and Told Me to Not Apologize for My Anti-Gay Comments About Pete Buttigieg

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And everyone tells me to get with the times and update to Windows 10. Not until they pry Win 7 out of my cold dead hands.
https://www.howtogeek.com/658194/windows-10s-new-update-is-deleting-peoples-files-again/
I got my kid a netbook with Windows 10 and it’s still in the repair shop 5 months later.
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THIS QUOTE! LMFAO!
Elizabeth Warren Exists
“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, an evil, pumpkin-colored king named Dottard Grump ruled the land.”
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OMG, this could be a game changer for someone like me if I could afford it…
I am infamous for keen ability to strip down TVs and such to individual pieces for reuse or discard. BUT because of my mental health issues/brain damage causing short term memory problems, I CANNOT be trusted to reassemble things properly. This handy dandy thing would allow me to track-and write- where what screws/etc came from which part of what I disassemble. It would be nirvana for me, considering how much DIY I must attempt as a single mom.
https://www.amazon.com/iFixit-Pro-Magnetic-Project-Mat/dp/B00876JHBM?tag=htgnewsletter-20
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LAME, Seth, especially for latenight TV
“A cellist in Oregon was arrested after police found over 100 pounds of marijuana in his car trunk. Thankfully, when they pulled him over, he didn’t resort to violins.” -Seth Meyers
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Methinks something is rotten in the state of Denmark…
Or Gordan Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares, anyway. I cannot fathom how he comes into EVERY single restaurant over 7 years and tests the menu and yet every item is ‘disgusting’. He’s not even that harsh on the contestants of Hell’s Kitchen.
But bitching and moaning and swearing and making other people feel belittled sells more TV ad space, I guess.
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I am not saying Ramsay is nice to his HK contestants, by any means. But he doesn’t call them out for their food, without also focusing on something in their appearance or history or intelligence that further belittles them. I think, “You’re cooking is shit I wouldn’t feed my dog” suffices. No need to add on, “You’re a fat piece of shit, this is disgusting, I wouldn’t feed it to my dog.”
Appearance has zilch to do with culinary skills, one would think such a renowned chef would knot that.
Petty meanness sells, I guess.
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Vampire planned wedding, anyone
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-8017065/Vampire-couple-launch-event-planning-business-throw-weird-weddings.html?utm_source=fark&utm_medium=website&utm_content=link&ICID=ref_fark
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$2,500 a month to Tweet and text Bloomberg’s praises…
sounds as legit as Trump impeachment being acquitted.

Bloomberg paying private citizens $2500 a month to text and tweet his praises from their personal social media accounts

Mythbusting Misconceptions About Mental Health Issues

Anyone ever watch the show Mythbusters with Adam and Jamie? I used to looong ago when we had cable but not lately. I always enjoyed that show and finding out what was actually possible and what was total myth.

So let’s take that approach on the topic of mental health and learn stuff, shall we?

Myth #1: Mental health issues mean someone has below average intelligence.
WRONG. Some of the most brilliant minds, past and present, battled mental health issues. Some even had genius IQ’s. There simply is no correlation between mental illness and intelligence.

Myth #2: People with mental health conditions are malingerers seeking attention.
WRONG. Most of us would be very very happy if we were lucky enough to just have one bout, go to a doctor, be given the magic happy pills society is so fond of, and live happily ever after with a working med regime. Some of us, though, are med resistant. Some cannot handle the harsh side effects. For me, I am med resistant and prone to unbearable side effects so my chronic condition of being semi functional then non functioning depressive is torturesome. I don’t want attention. I want proper treatment and I want to be treated with respect and not belittled. That is hardly seeking attention.

Myth #3:Mental health issues mean someone is simply of weak character and lazy.
WRONG. Because of our issues we tend to try harder than many people. We want to prove ourselves to not be lazy. We want to show we have fine character. But because we have limitations sometimes, it is mistaken for laziness and not having good enough character to ‘try harder’.

Myth #4: People choose to be anxious, depressed, bipolar, schizophrenic, DID, et al.
WRONG. None of us asked for this. Be it genetics or a random twist of fate it is simply the hand we were dealt and we do the best we can. So when someone says “snap out of it”, it very insulting and hurtful. If we could choose to snap out of it, why would we subject ourselves to big pharma and their pricey meds and all the side effects? We don’t choose mental health issues any more than one makes a decision to be diabetic.

Myth #5: Mental health issues cannot be a ‘real’ disability.
WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG. I am on disability because I have struggled with my mental health since I was a teenager. I got my first job at 16. I always tried to work. But I could never be the one thing all employers require-stable. Then a med interaction nearly killed me and left me brain damaged, so my disability application was granted. People call it ‘nitwit pension’ or ‘freeloading’ but getting by on a small disability allotment-while raising a child-is not easy. It is very stressful and I would rather be cured and working. It would be a hell of a lot better for my self esteem since the world is so cranked up on judgment and stigma.But rather than listen to ignorant people, I am going to listen to my doctor, who says I simply am not stable enough on my meds to take on any more stress as it could lead to a complete breakdown.Mental health disability is very REAL for some of us. Maybe some people cheat the system and malinger, but for the most part, considering how difficult it is to be granted mental health disability- those of us who were approved came armed with our dictionary thick medical files and jumped through 100 flaming hoops. It’s not that severe for many people and for some of it is.

Myth #6:Psych meds make mental illness worse.
SEMI-WRONG. While worsening depression and suicidal thoughts *can* be a side effect for small percentages of people on certain meds…for the most part, great strides have been made over the last 50 years in dragging mental health treatment out of the asylums and lobotomy years. Not every person with sad feelings or past trauma may require meds. Many people choose other treatments such as long term therapy, exercise, diet, herbals. I tried everything-chakra alignment, exercise, hypnosis, aromatherapy, color therapy, sound therapy…Medication soothes the savage beast in my brain that sends out so many wrong messages. I have no love for big pharma but I am certainly grateful the drugs that help us are available. To be fair, however, some medications can set off manic episodes in bipolar patients thus making their condition worse. It’s trial and error finding what works.

Myth #7:People with mental health issues ‘dramatize’ how bad they are feeling.
FALSE! When a depressed person tells you they are swimming in a black abyss and can’t see light at the end of the tunnel…That’s not drama. That is what it feels like. It doesn’t matter if it sounds dramatic or isn’t the reality. In our disordered brains, we feel trapped in these hellish states and having our pain questioned and belittled does not help us.

Myth #8: If someone is successful, well off, attractive, educated, and has a beautiful family, they can’t possibly have anything to be depressed about.
FALSE! Depression does not discriminate. That is why it is a disorder. When things around you are going well and you still feel utterly dark and hopeless, a pricey car and all the love in the world isn’t going to cure depression.

Myth #9: Bipolar people (formerly known as manic depressive) are always manic and happy.
FALSE. While mania can run rampant in bipolar axis one, those of us who are bipolar two experience few manic episodes but long, severe periods of crippling depression. And our manic episodes tend to be more subdued, hypomania. I am hypomanic today, writing obsessively because the thoughts are coming at me fast and furiously and I MUST use this energy before it fades.

Myth #9: Depressed people have no sense of humor.
Ha ha ha, WRONG. Perhaps our funny bones are dulled by our depression and anxiety at times, but many of us only survive because we do have a great sene of humor and it enables to laugh or at least smile. And sometimes we use humor to hide just how bad we are feeling, especially thoe of us with kids.

Myth #10: Anxiety is just a coping problem.
SOOO wrong. Anxiety and panic tends to manifest physically, as well as mentally, so if our fight or flight response is triggered, we begin to sweat, tremble, have trouble breathing. We get dizzy, we can’t focus, our thoughts spin too fast to think clearly, our guts tie up in knots. It is a legitimate condition that really limits life for some of us at times.

I guess that is all I have for now, though I am sure I will have a second post on this topic at some point. If anyone has any questions about something they have heard on the topic and would like to know if it is myth or fact, ask me or ask Google, don’t just assume because your best friend’s cousin’s boss said people with mental health issues are all serial killers that it is true. Most of us don’t even like swatting flies, let alone harming other people.

Good News Better News, BAD News, and Oh, I Am So SCREWED News

3 posts and it’s not even supper time, I am on a roll. Well, after 3 days of depressive deep freeze, my brain is firing on 6 out of 8 cylinders so I am taking advantage of it. No attempt to spam people but also not sorry. If you were a writer before you were a blogger then you know the creative urge has its own time table and if you don’t heed it at that moment, you can ‘lose it’ and get writer’s block. NOPE. And yeah, yeah, schedule posts, bloody hell, I have tried but wordpress has that idiotic military clock and no matter how many times or how many people explain it to me I STILL DON’T GET IT SO JUST LET IT GO.

Good news. I spent 20 minutes out in 12 degree cold removing 4 inches of snow and 2 inches of ice from my car. I had to take a break mid way because even in gloves I could not feel anything in my fingers except pain. My ice scraper broke halfway off the ice was so thick and I don’t have a spare so that’s awesome. The car started, the heater is still working and it is road ready.

Better news..I had like a dollar forty left on my card so I went to the gas station and got a 2 liter of soda for me and Spook. I couldn’t afford to get her a single thing for V-tine’s cos I had to get the stuff for her school party and it makes me feel bad so I figured I could at least ply her with soda and maybe do my homemade cocounut clusters later. Though that is gonna require Mt Dish Olympus be washed and I haven’t gotten there yet. But a cleared off car that starts, with soda-those are good things.

Bad news abounds. I am the bottom of the cat food bucket so I am either gonna have to ask dad if I can get some from them or hope they are all gone and I can just sneak over and swipe some. They keep it in the shed in a tall metal trash can, so they’d hardly miss a coffee can full til Monday, but sometimes, my dad just likes to be a dickbag and say no to simple requests.

I thought I had a cushion in my account so I could afford the copay for my refills on Xanax and Wellbutrin but that cushion was wiped out by my monthly ‘service fee’ so now I can’t get those and I didn’t learn of this til after I’d bought the soda.

And the I AM SCREWED NEWS….

A $317 power/heat bill due March 3rd.

I can’t pay it. I am out of arrangements and extensions. And the power company is talking about making me come up with a $200 deposit if I don’t pay it in full on time.

I dropped the ball. I got my low income assistance grant and didn’t realize the amount went towards any back bills I had with the power/heat people. I didn’t miss a payment, I didn’t make a partial, I had to go budget arrangement,which reults in…lump sum.I just can’t get caught up because we had to move in such a hurry in 2018 (we got the notice they sold to another company and were becoming ‘owner only’ instead of rental on V’tine’s that year and had two weeks to get out, happy eviction anniversary). But yeah, the whole $500 grant went toward one bill and paying the back amount so I am on the hook for that $317 and I can’t even buy cat food or my refills. I have no idea what I am gonna do, this area is just so small, we don’t have many assistance options.And March 10th my meter gets read again so I will likely have another $300 bill to pay April 3rd.

I feel trapped and hopeless.

This was why I started that Ko-fi thing. Not to beg for money but to write for my supper, so to speak. Someone told me they thought my writing was good enough for me to make money at it and I tried it and…without promotion on social media it is just getting cobwebs and it breaks my heart. I thought for sure by now I’d have found some sort of job to do but I can’t even get work from home or product tester because I have no recent references. Not that checking references would help, they’d all say the same thing: Great when manic, useless when depressed, and I am depressed 9 months of the year so fuck me.

I also need a $151 license renewal sticker on my car by midnight March 31 or I am not road ready.

My income is $848 for the month. Rent is $400. Even if I let the internet go, I still need water and I can’t pay that if I pay rent and heat. I can’t buy gas or food or pet supplies.

I am at a loss.

Meanwhile the donor galivants around town job to job, address to address, paying support for a week or two when he gets caught, then moving along before they can catch him again. (And the law doesn’t even require we be notified he’s not working so our support isn’t coming, we just wait every period hoping it deposits and yet again…it did not.) Maybe I need to work even with my disability, but I get damned sick of people letting that 57 year old man child off the hook. Spook is his daughter,too, but as long as he doesn’t work or goes off book, well, he has no responsibility. He doesn’t see her, doesn’t do a damn thing in any way to help out. But people are harder on me than him and I don’t get it. I’ve been with her since she was in my belly, I’ve put every cent into keeping her sheltered and fed and stuff. I don’t go out. I don’t party. I don’t have fancy things. Hell, my winter coat is so ripped, I can barely wear it anymore but she had to have the new coat this year…I gave her every blanket in the house, I only have 2 on my bed.

My fault, I tried to get ahead by paying car insurance in full for six months because I honestly thought I’d at least have a break rom the heat bill somewhat for March. At the most, I thought a hundred bucks. $317????? Holy fuck.

I don’t even qualify for one of those 100% legal loan sharky places.

The pawn king (literally the store’s name) says my stuff is too old, he could maybe give me fifty bucks for a tablet, a laptop, and three flat screen TVs. Fifty bucks barely puts the gas back in my tank hauling it all to town.

A normal family, if I had one, I could reach out to in a dire time like this, since they’ve been bragging about their tax refund windfalls and say, can I pay you back monthly… Not this family.

So I thought, well,worse comes to worse, we could move in with my mom. NOPE. Because my mom doesn’t own the house. It is owned by her roommate, who has willed it to her son (my brother in law) and he says even if we paid, we can’t stay there. Dad has no room. We literally have nowhere to go.

And I am venting here, guys, so don’t think it’s a pity party and don’t apologize for not being able to help. I know most people are in a similar shit situation and the comfortable people are not keen to risk being ‘scammed’ by some internet stranger, so I am not trying to manipulate anyone or anything. I am just telling it like it is.

So while people wonder why my posts never seem to be positive…This is my reality,guys. Sometimes, there’s just not much to be positive about. Yes, you thank your lucky stars for what you do have but to keep it requires a solution and I don’t have one at this moment. I am scared shitless. I’ll lose custody of my kid if I can’t provide her with a home. Her dad may not want her, but one of my ass trash family members would probably take her in and I’d never see her again or I’d see her at their discretion and they’d totally ruin her and turn her into…them. Ewww.

I gotta remember to breathe.

When we were forced to move, the donor was not paying, I had no savings, and we had 2 weeks to find a place and get out. I will figure out a way, even if we end up at the only ‘homeless’ shelter in town. If it’s still open, I haven’t seen much traffic there in 4 or so years. Like I said, even with a kid, if you have any income, there’s just not much by way of assistance here.

And maybe I don’t deserve it, I fucked this up royally, but it was an honest mistake. I never intended it to work out this way.

For now, I am just gonna let it stew and simmer and see what I can come up with in a few days.

At least today I got up, I bathed, I took out trash, I cleared off the car, I went out in public (if the minimart in Armpit counts as public) and I even took a third phone call from my dad without screaming GO AWAY YOU IDGET!

Life is a tossed salad of good and bad and for tonight…I am gonna focus on the good. The bad will still be there tomorrow.

I am definitely gonna need to find the money for the Xanax refill, though, geesh, the panic attacks are coming back with a vengeance and that I am NOT grateful for.

You Are A Purple Elephant

Have I thrown another curveball with yet another loopy title? Good. Wednesdays are the day I get my Psych Central newsletter and because I basically live in a perpetual state of feeling bad about myself and for every mistake I’ve ever made…especially when those around me can’t let it go…

I found this article about Dwelling On Your Mistakes (and Learning How To Mentally Shrug It Off)

A mental shrug to cope with negative thoughts. Why did I never think of that? Oh, sure, there’s the old shrug it off, suck it up, let it slide off your back standard issue stuff therapists and societal cliches spew.

This article just put things into perspective for me as far as my own self flogging goes. Especially because to this day I feel guilty for something pretty much every day. The past is the past. I have fucked up a million times…. And?

Oh, but then come the nagging self doubt filled thoughts. Reminding me I am a fuck up, a loser, a lost cause, that I am beyond redemption, that my mental disorders make me less worthwhile as a person…

AND?

“You are a purple elephant.”

How do you feel about this statement? I even tried it on my 10 year old and she said, “I’m not a purple elephant but so what if I was one?”

DING DING DING! That is the self misdirect away from the negative thoughts that leads to learning the mental shrug! I think this is brilliant and I plan on utilizing it frequently in the presence of my super negative family. Anyway the article says it all better than I do but the gist is still the same.

I also found an interesting-and new even to me-article about people who are so high functioning on the outside that they have no idea they are in fact depressed. I knew about people being in denial, I knew about people who did not know the symptoms, but when someone is seeking treatment for anxiety yet the doctor has to bring it to her attention that she is clinically depressed and has NO idea…I was never ignorant enough to think that even people who seemingly have their shit together can’t have a mental health issue, but I had no idea just how deeply denial can run. It’s a good read, if you’re curious about that topic.

Moving on…

I did fuck all today but write for the blog. My kid comes home every day and asks what did you do today, mom. And I get tired of telling her nothing. So today I said I wrote quite a bit. And I did, the fire inside me was triggered by someone’s idiotic behavior on a reality show and I just…went off. On the keyboard and the blog page, anyway. I was surprised by the positive reaction to the post on mental health issues and the misconceptions and stigma attached to it. People seemed to like my writing, they seemed to feel they had learned something, and they encouraged me to write more and they would definitely be readers. When people who aren’t all that familiar with mental health topics, yet are willing to open their minds and hear someone’s story about their struggle- to me, that is a step in the right direction. It starts the conversation, and every conversation, every misconception corrected, every person who learns something and wants to know more…

It is a damn good start for my cause.

I found Hell’s Kitchen streaming free on my Vudu TV app so I’ve been watching it all day as TV Plus just kept showing the same Kitchen Nightmare episodes from yesterday (hate that shit!). Some of it is pretty funny but somehow without having to be bleeped out every six seconds cos it is uncensored, it seems less fun and Ramsay now seems like a bit of a bully. Reminds me a little of my dad who thinks verbal abuse is ‘motivating’. Meanwhile, the school sent the kids home two hours early cos we got like an inch and a half of snow and they didn’t want the buses on the back roads until the roads were cleared. Right now, Armpit’s powers that be have cleaned the streets pretty well but the snow isn’t what has me worried about sending my kid to school tomorrow. It was 33 degrees today. By 4 a.m. it is going to be 10 degrees. That’s a 16 degree temp drop which means black ice and slick snow and…I thought by now they’d have called to cancel classes like other schools in the area but nada so far. So how’s that for some incongruity, watching Hell’s Kitchen yet living in Midwest Arctic? Thursday overnight is gonna be negative 4. EEK!

I haven’t gotten around to feeding myself since last night. I had half a celery stick with peanut butter in the last 36 hours. I went into the kitchen several times. Oh, I will fix cheeseburgers. No, wait, I will nuke a frozen a lasagna. And then I lost my train of thought and forgot about it. And I got some decent sleep last night, even if broken by waking up multiple times, so I wasn’t expecting to be so loopy and indecisve today. Yet…I am.

I nearly forgot to call and wish my dad a happy birthday today. I know the date of his bday, duh but with this broken sleep, my days and nights run together so sometimes, I get confused what day of the week it is, let alone what the date is. Least I did remember finally. He was his usual downer self, didn’t even say thanks for thinking of me. Charmer.

So for final notes…

I’d like to remind people I do have two other blogs, one of which I updated today with some links to what I found intereting tech stories or bizarre things (machete attack at McDonald’s!!!) so feel free to check that out, it is a little more upbeat than this blog and I find some fucked up funny stuff. Beautifully Random Stuff

I would also like to BEG of you all who appreciate my writing to at least check out my Ko-fi page. It features new posts often unrelated to my mental issues. There are pictures, poetry, short stories I wrote. And since my laptop is dying, I could really use the help of people ‘buying me a coffee’ for $3 to help get me on the path to replacing this computer before I am left high and dry. Or just become a follower. The coffee $3 thing seems to be the internet’s way of being like the neighborhood coffee house or bar where your buddy does a favor or helps you out and you buy them a mug or a glass to show appreciation. I could use a show of support and encouragement for this endeavor and it would be appreciated so much, I’d let your ride the sacred pegacorn and pet my mental goblins once I put their Hannibal Lecter masks on…

And just remember when your mind starts rehashing past mistakes and telling you awful things about yourself…just think very loudly in your own mind YOU ARE A PURPLE ELEPHANT. Because A, obviously you are not one, B) so what if you were a purple elephant, and C it makes me smile and when I start smiling it makes people wonder what I am up to so freaking them out is just a bonus.

I appreciate everyone’s interaction, encouragements, feedback, and compliments on my Generation Happy Pill piece. Thanks for being open to a topic too many find to ‘depressing’ to broach. Ha ha, depression talk is depressing. Who knew.

And I shall leave you with my mama cat Godsmack and her 8 month old son, Sage, looking out the window at ‘cat tv’, which is what I call it when they are spazzing out from spotting birds and squirrels.

So even if you can’t stand me and think my writing sucks…My cats are boo-ti-ful.

And anyone who cares to chime in on the mental health topic or has ideas for something I should write about that has affected them or a loved one of friend…Leave a message in the comments or the contact form. I am listening, I am asking for feedback, so don’t worry the dragon lady will eat you and don’t worry about the words being wrong or offensive. If you have questions about mental health issues and my experiences, ask them, I will not get offended.

Just talk to me.

Generation Happy Pill

Last week in the blogging community a conversation was started between the amazing woman who started the community, Saumya and myself over something I’d written about mental illness. It was obviously a topic she finds uneasy due to cultural reasons but she talked to me, told me her thoughts and perceptions and heard out what I had to say. Then she asked if perhaps I’d want to write a weekly blog piece on mental health and link it to the community. I thought, wow, what a good idea, people need to be educated, people who are suffering need to know they are not alone and there is no shame in getting help. I was excited.

And to quash my spirits all it took were a couple of random comments from really good people who simply pointed out that nothing we do is going to change the stigma attached to mental health so self acceptance is the only way to cope. I strongly disagreed with this because I am not out to change millions of minds. I am out to write something honest that sheds light on a topic people squirm when brought up. I want to inform, educate, and encourage people to get help or if you know someone who needs help, encourage them to get the help, to hell with social stigma. So rather than just throw in the towel, I let the ideas all fester in my head the last few days.

And then today, something as simple as watching Kitchen Nightmares, smacked me upside the head with how important it is to get this conversation started and bust some of society’s ignorant myths about mental health and mental health treatment in general. This guy kept telling this woman to ‘go buy some Prozac, you need Prozac” and it made my skin crawl. Because it demonstrates not just ignorance, but idiocy. I don’t know if this is a choice for many people, to be not merely ignorant on the topic but to also behave like an idiot, but it is time to start TALKING OUT LOUD ABOUT MENTAL ILLNESS.

I titled this post Generation Happy Pill because that is essentially how it has played out in society the last 35 years or so. It became more mainstream when the late Elizabeth Wurtzel published her memoroir, “Prozac Nation” in the late 80’s. Suddenly, the world at large thought there was a magic pill to make everyone stop feeling sad and ‘be normal’. Thus ‘take your happy pill’ or ‘did you forget your happy pill today’ became largely integrated into everyday conversations. People actually believe that is how these medications work. Feel sad, can’t stop crying? Take a Prozac and bam, you feel better?

Let’s just start with rudimentary education.

Anti-depressants like Prozac and its newer counterparts do NOT work like Tylenol. You do not take one or two pills and your headache is gone. Anti-depressants can take MONTHS to function properly, as dosages must be started low and slowly increased. Until they’ve maxed out your dose-which can take up to 6 months, they are reluctant to change your medication even if you’re in worse shape on that med than when you went in. For there to be a drastic enough difference for most to notice someone was not properly taking an anti-depressant, they would have to miss 5 or more days due to the half life of the drug remaining in the system. So this blows the ‘take your happy pill’ or ‘did you forget to take your happy pill’ garbage out of the water.

Depression is no laughing matter. Mental disorders aren’t funny. They are often genetic and determined by faulty brain chemicals. LEARN before deeming a topic something to joke about. No one ever went out and said, “Hmm, I’m bored, I need attention, oh, let me get labeled by a psychiatrist so the world can make fun of me for being crazy, that sounds like fun!” It does not work that way.

Bipolar disorder (formerly called manic depression and I still prefer the old term) is treated somewhat differently than depression. Mood stabilizers like Lithium, Lamictal, Seroquel, Abilify and others are used to essentially balance the scale between mood extremes. Picture it like a two sided store scale and one side has 1 pound on it while the other side is sagging downward under the weight of 6 pounds. Mood stabilizers remove too much or too little from each polar side (thus bipolar) so your scale is balanced with say, 2 pounds on each side. Now even fully medicated, there will be times a breeze or difficult life event or whatever can make the scale swing and become unbalanced.

This is where bipolar disorder distinguishes itself-bipolar axis one means mostly, your stabilizer works and you experience more manic/stable/happy than depressive episodes. Bipolar axis two (which is my diagnosis) means that even with my mood stabilizer, my depressions are so deepset and last so long, I am often on a two antidepressants at the same time, known as dual therapy.

There is a third less severe form of bipolar known as cyclothymia, in which you swing moods so rapidly you do not occupy mental space long enough to actually reach either polar long enough to ‘land’, but it has become more of its own disorder to be treated as opposed to the bipolar axis diagnosis.

Now there is a vast amount of mental disorders that can also be touched upon, but today I chose to focus on depression and bipolar, since those are my diagnoses and I’ve pretty much tried every ‘happy pill’ known to pharmacopia. Some work for awhile. Some make me sick. A couple made me suicidal. I wish it were as simple as society’s ‘happy pill’ fantasy so I could just choose a pill of my favorite color and ‘be normal’.

Sadly, the reality is that these meds take time to work and sometimes the side effects are too harsh or they don’t work or you have a bad reaction. (One, an MAOI, nearly killed me because I consumed chocolate by accident,and that, along with cheese and milk and assorted other foods interact with Nardil.) Another sad reality is that most people who are bipolar don’t get a proper diagnoses for 12.5 years. That stat is actually from a few years ago. I thought it took me 14 years to get diagnosed bipolar and get mood stabilizers simply because I live in a rural area and have lackluster health insurance.

The fact it can take over ten years to get diagnosed properly-if you can even overcome the stigma and seek treatment- should make the mental healthcare provider community feel ashamed. And society on a whole should feel ashamed for stigmatizing a very painful illness to manage and live with and trivializing it with snarks and judgments. So often sick people are too scared to seek a doctor’s help and be honest and get treated because they don’t want y’all calling them crazy or nuts or mental or thinking somehow they have inferior intelligence or weak character. It’s that thinking that isshameful and disturbing, not needing help with one’s mental health.

It is my sincere hope that anyone who reads this allows themselves to be educated,and to seek help, or encourage someone else to seek help if they are suffering mentally. The stigma sucks, for sure, but that stigma is there whether you get treated or not. You might as well help yourself and let the haters do their thing. Their judgment of mental health issues says far more about their intelligence than any mental health diagnosis can say about those of us who are ill.

It’s time for Generation Happy Pill to become a brave new world where mentally ill people are treated with kindness, empathy, and not subjected to ignorance, cruelty, and ridicule.

Prove that people can change, that we can become a more educated, understanding world and better ourselves as human beings.

The only untreatable mental health issue is ignorance because you can’t force anyone to learn.

Stigma might never be cured but we can make it less powerful.

Let’s get the conversation started and the more of us who talk about it, the less power the remaining stigma will have.

Categories, Tags, Duplicates, Oh, Fuck It, Let This Blog Die In Obscurity

Because I am a flagrant self promoting garbage churning blogger and writer (https://ko-fi.com/morgueticiaatoms) (https://crypticverse.wordpress.com/) (https://crazybeautifulrandom.wordpress.com/)…WHO DOES NOT USE ANY FORM OF SOCIAL MEDIA, THEREFORE IS ROTTING IN SELF IMPOSED OBSCURITY BUT I HAVE MY PRINCIPLES…I thought, hey, let me Google up things I can do to improve traffic to my writing and hey, I dunno, maybe get people to interact with me cos honestly…The like button is validating somewhat but are you even reading what you’re allegedly liking?

Google vomited dozens upon dozens of suggestions for how to make my blogs one of the popular kids that search engines will ask to prom. And like every other time I have thought, hey, more readers would probably not be a bad thing…so I go in search of this wellspring of Google knowledge from the pretty popular blogger kids.. Couple paragraphs in, I lost interest. BORING. Obviously, self promotion is not my thing even when I put forth a half ass effort. So be it. Never set out for anyone other than a couple of friends to read my dumpster fire drivel anyway. And bam, without any trying, it says I have over a thousand followers. Which likely means about 20 who occasionally read my blog and 3 people who ever comment and yeah, lack of interaction is a bummer. I love swapping comments and being introduced to new blogs (as long as they read like a technical manual from Ikea) but…

The fact is am just too damn lazy to strive for any form of ‘social media mogul’ or ‘influencer’ status. I kinda like hanging back here in my shadows, smoking a cigarette on school grounds, drinking some grape Mad Dog and blaring some Slipknot while the preppy kids scowl in disapproval of what a freak I am. I worked long and hard at just being myself and if I am a freak…I am letting that freak flag fly freely in the wind.

So…Back to our regularly scheduled rant about how much mental health disorders suck.

First off, insurance companies BLOW GOATS AND IT DOESN’T EVEN GIVE THE GOATS PLEASURE. They are fighting my doctor’s prescription for generic fucking Temazapam, ffs. If my kid and I weren’t already in penny pinching territory, I’d swear I’d be better off using that Goodrx app than dealing with my ass trash insurance. Thankfully, I hoard my failed med because, meh, too lazy to go to the safe disposal thingie…So I took 30 mg Temazepam last night and…The doctor said to take it 20 minutes before bedtime, cool dark room, blah blah blah. Then Nikki Glaser’s Not Safe came on and it was like, oh, well she’s funny enough to stay up for. So I missed that precious window he spoke of where-fuck it, the brand name is easier to spell, Restoril, would kick in. I tossed down a melatonin and a benadryl and by midnight, I was asleep. Fortunately every time I woke up during the night I was able to get back to sleep and I felt half ass rested. For about 20 minutes then I just felt groggy and like going back to sleep. Oh, well, no med is perfect. Just hope insurance puts it through at some point. Not like I am trying to get $16 a pill Viagra, for fuck’s sake. (And I only know that figure from late night infomercials for cheaper alternatives to limp biscuit issues.)

So far I am groggy, accomplishing nothing, and I have a stress stomach ache because the cats are almost out of food and I won’t get my check til Monday. Bloody hell. I have $1.15 on my card and about 80 cents in coins. I fucked up by buying them brand name food and the pigs went through 22 pounds in 3 weeks, half of which has resulted in me muttering, “Oh, great, cat puke on the floor, now they’re gonna need treatment for bulimia.” I don’t dare ask my dad cos he called last night to tell me they are down from 4 cars to 2 cos his pick up needs repair and this weekend I will be ‘on call’ to haul their man child to and from his job. This is why I say I want nothing from my family, it always comes with lifelong strings. All I ever get to hear about is how at least my brother works. He’s 24 years old with a vehicle and a license but can’t drive in town, how is their fuck up in raising a man child MY responsibility? And even if they throw a ten dollar bill at me, that’s only two trips to town so what the fuck am I supposed to do in town for 3 hours during winter with my kid and no money?

I know, family is supposed to help family, but after a year…It’s high time they make him grow the fuck up, even if it means them taking him driving in town 7 days a week until he can get it through his thick fucking skull. All they ever talk about is me being on my ‘nitwit pension’ while he can hold a job. I’m managing a household, raising a child by myself, caring for pets, a huge lawn, insuring and licensing a car, rent, power, heat, water, phone/internet. NONE of which the man child can do. I wish there was such thing as adult adoption so someone well of family far from this hell hole could adopt me and Spook and get us the fuck away from this hell pit. And it’s not even the town of Armpit, anymore, Spook and I have grudgingly adapted. It’s my damn family. And to make them even more charming, I referenced how the donor is apparently working because we’ve received $100 in child support for the month and my dad defended the donor, saying he needed money to live on, too. Not my fucking point. I want to fire the lawyer, drop the filing in court, and for that, I need an address where he can be notified. Since he switches jobs and addresses so much and never tells the court, it’s my responsibility to find his useless ass. Yes, I am glad he is being held to his responsibilities. And I am so fucking sorry my sense of humor, mean as it may be, offended daddy racist.

I said something about, “This is like a 1/4th of what he was paying, he is either working part time hours or he became a commissioned male prostitute and isn’t very good at it.”

R thought it was funny, cos he only met the donor once and even perceived him as being conceited. And frankly when you go around calling people window lickers and boasting you have a 187 IQ but you’re not bright enough to raise or support any of your 3 kids…The term delusional comes to mind.

So I was just being my smart ass self, and also, I DO want to get an address on the fucker so I can fire the animal abusing pseudo lawyer, drop the filing, and start fresh even with legal aid. But my dad, defending that deadbeat? And honestly, that $60 one week still couldn’t cover our water bill, and the $40 the next week wouldn’t even put gas in the car so I could get my kid some underwear and pants. (Yes, she got clothes for Christmas, but when I tell her to clean her room, her idea is to grab a trash bag and stuff eveyrthing in it, dirty clothes included, stash it somewhere in the shed, then bitch at me that she has no clothes cos we’re so poor. Ermagod, I am surrounded by people who are gonna make my brain explode!)

First world problems, I know, but ranting here keeps me from ya know, Z Whacking pretty much everything cos it is all pissing me off. And this time, I can’t blame hormones, it is just frustration. With the family, the donor, the kid, the cats, the fucking world. And this fucking weather, omg, I can’t wait til summer so I can take off 15 layers of clothing and have warm feet again. And sunshine more than 1 day a week. Which with the size of our lawn and me having to mow it all by myself with a push mower which I hate-me rushing toward mowing season has GOT to say something about how harsh winter is on me mentally and physically.

So I don’t have any fucking answers. I just needed a good rant. What others consider a long rambling incoherent post is what I call therapy. And after seeing what my psych center charges for 45 minutes with their therapists ($267), I’d say I’ve made a financially prudent decision to go this route.

Do something different. Elect a freak for prom queen.Now follow my blogs, buy me coffees, and gimme my damn prom queen tiara. It would look lovely with my carving knife earrings and bullet studded wrist band.

I Don’t Like Myself Today

That title is just one of those things that make go ummm…. But it is how I am feeling and I have no idea why. It’s not like I took a Z-Whacker to a baby seal or robbed a bank or did anything that would spark self loathing. I just feel it. It started about 45 minutes into watching stand up comedy on youtube in an effort to bolster my sagging spirits. By 45 minutes, I was no longer even smirking at any of the comedians and I just felt like someone pricked the bubble around me and let out all the air. I can’t even find comedy funny, what is wrong with me? Now there is that itty itty rational part of my brain who says, hey, maybe your hormones dipped, or you haven’t eaten in 30 hours, you need food to get your blood sugar up. Or hey, novel idea, maybe those comedians just didn’t do it for you?

Ha ha ha. Depressive brain can kick rationality in its ass and skull and deny any plausibility.

I took my meds. I am drinking water. I ate. I still think I suck. Hell, I even snuggled a kitten and am pretty sure I still can’t fucking stand myself.

This is the part of depression people don’t really talk about. For every manic episode in which you showed no conscience for your actions, there will be depressions that you feel guilty and self hatred for no good reason. And when your mind gets bored hating you for no reason, it will dredge up the most heinous things you have ever done in your life as examples of why you’re a waste of space who doesn’t deserve to live.

Never mind you’re doing meds, therapy, changing bad habits and past behavior that contributed to your issues. NOPE. Self betterment is NO excuse to suddenly start liking yourself or feeling good about yourself. YOU STILL SUCK.

Part of me wonders if I didn’t set myself up for this mood crash by watching comedy. I tempted the fates and wanted to prove I am more than all my depressive writings and that I can be fun and funny and laugh and not be consumed by pessimism. But deep down maybe I knew it would end in self defeat thus giving me a real reason to feel like a loser other than ‘just because my brain says so’.

Self sabotage is pretty common in depression. But if that is what I did, I think I did it all wrong. I mean, if you’re wanting to feed your negative feelings and have a reason to feel sad and hopeless, wouldn’t you watch some rom-com or something so the happy ending results in your feel inept and a lost cause? Nope. I watch comedy and…end up depressed. WTF, brain?

All I can think about is bedtime. The forecast is for 6 straight days of gloom and that is so not gonna help lift my mood. Sleep is my only escape even if last night’s dream du jour involved a female street gang trying to murder me because one of their boyfriends said hi to me. (And if you think that’s not based on fact, the joke is on you, it happened. They didn’t try to kill me but they were hunting me down and my only crime was be polite and say hello to someone who said it first.) But bad dreams I can wake from.

This self hating darkness enveloped space is like 24-7 in lockdown where they leave you naked with no bedding and a drain in the floor as a bathroom and the walls and doors have been fitted so not a single drop of light can reach you. (I was watching a documentary on Alcatraz earlier, it stuck.) But I imagine this is a bit of what solitary confinement would feel like. Trapped with only your own thoughts without hope of a break or escape. Swatting all the self hating thoughts away like swarms of flies only for the self loathing to sneak in and sting you like a thousand sweat bees to remind you…you are a piece of shit.

I do not believe this, of course. I am cognizant enough to know this is a symptom of my depression.

But somnetimes what you know has zero to do with how you are feeling.

And today…I fucking hate myself and I have no fucking idea why.

I can take comfort knowing my daughter just came to me with her tablet and a word game, asking me to utilize my excellent spelling skills so she could win. And I nailed it, she got 20,000 points.

If only I could get a job that paid me for spelling well and knowing useless pop culture trivia.

Who am I kidding, I am loser no one will ever hire to even mop up at a peepshow booth.

REALLY hate the days I hate myself.

I am getting on my own nerves.