Archive for the sleep deprivation Category

Psychological Jabberwocky

Posted in anxiety, depression, sleep deprivation with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 8, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Today’s mental chaos and psychological jabberwocky are brought to you by getting six total hours of sleep in 2 days and battling THE IDIOCY OF THE MENTAL HEALTHCARE AND PRESCRIPTION INSURANCE SYSTEM. I am fried. I so wanted to go back to sleep because I was up until 3:30 and then I woke at 5 and I tried to get back to sleep but it was a no go. The only meds I am not out of are Lamictal and Xanax. The doctor got everything all fucked up, then their system got hacked, so round and round it’s been for days trying to get it all approved by the doctor, then trying to convince insurance to pay for the dose increase. Returning to Spook’s school schedule after 2 weeks of holiday slothfulness is proving to be pretty difficult and aggravating. She is satan in the mornings no matter how much sleep she gets. And the stuff she is fighting me tooth and nail on is just such basic stuff.

She does not want me in her bedroom. I try to respect her space. I knock on the door. Then I go in to hook up her own alarm clock for her and discover the place is a biohazard pit with dirty clothes and candy wrappers and fucking playdoh and slime everywhere (even though there’s been a ban on having that crap in her bedroom from word go.) Then she starts screaming that I nag too much, I am invading her privacy, I won’t give her space. Not once does she take responsibility for the room being the mess that it is by her own lack of action and poor choices. She is right, I am wrong, period.

I damn near had to have a steel cage match just to get her hair brushed out properly. She has such thin short hair, I don’t even understand the issue of brushing it once or twice a day. She half ass runs the brush over the top layer, leaving a ton of rats underneath, then comes bawling to me when the kids make fun of her but she still does not want to take my advice, does not want me to help her detangle it, just wants to scream at me.

When we get along, we get along beautifully. When I tell her no or ‘nag’ over something so simple as reminding her not to forget her backpack, she turns on and starts screaming and just will not back down. Then if she forgets something and I didn’t remind her, I get screamed at for that. (She reminds me so much of her father in behavioral ways, without his influence, that I sometimes wonder if certain personality traits aren’t encoded in the DNA.)

Doing battle to get her meds, as well, cos, of course, she goes to where I do since it is the only place for 50 miles for psych treatment and with the computer hack and system crash, that’s been a pain in the ass.

I still haven’t done fuck all towards housework. She yelled at me about needing clean clothes so I told her to get them into the washer and I’d get them clean and dry before school the next day. She started screaming at me that she already put her pants in the washer, when in fact, all she did was grab an armful of dark clothes off the top of the hamper and put them in the wash and it was ALL my stuff so she had no clean pants. She started screaming again. She then had the nerve to ask why I can’t keep the laundry done up. OMFG!!!! I did it have it all caught up until I went into her room and found all the dirty laundry she was hoarding under things, in things, behind things. Even clean clothes I politely told her to put into her drawer had been stuffed into the dollhouse instead. How can I get caught up when she does things like this, yet does not want me in her room cleaning it up and getting the dirty clothes?????

And a calamity occurred and I predicted it but noooo, the school wouldn’t listen, Spook wouldn’t listen. But she somehow managed to whack herself in the face with her saxophone and break it so now I gotta come up with the money to get it fixed and the only guy in town who does it charges $50 up front and the bill goes up from there. On top of needing $152 to keep my car road legal, groceries til next week when the food card renews, oh, and my medication copays went up….

I am amazed I haven’t gone bald and scalped myself from yanking out clumps of hair.

I cannot catch a break.

And of course, the donor is in the ether somewhere, likely working off book, so the state just shrugs and says they can’t do anything about him not paying until I locate his workplace or his social security number pops up on their screen and that is totally dependent of the employers adhering to state law about notifying of new employees within 30 days and guess what? Few of them do it, none of them are fined, and once again, the donor is held unaccountable for anything.

I am frustrated and pissed about my job situation. I’m pretty fragile right now but I thought I’d found the right fit working from home and I was qualified. Unfortunately, my internet connection is not nor is my outdated freebie laptop without mic or camera. So that went down the drain. One of the group home managers called to ask me if I had that waiver, she was still interested in hiring me, but I submitted a letter to the judge in town asking for a special dispensation in my case so I could get the waiver and he sent back some mumbo jumbo amounting to “I can’t help you.” I did EVERYTHING that was asked of me to attone for my poor choice 20 years ago and to be told there is NOTHING I can do to get around and maybe be able to get a damn job I am capable of doing….

I really wish some wealthy benefactor would gift me with one of the $130 replica Z Whackers on ebay, I need one and I have lots of trees to hit it with.

Anger and fury are what you get when you’ve made so much effort and are told, oh, well, never gonna be good enough, tough shit…And I think anger is pretty appropriate. I even fired off an on line complaint to the governor today pointed out all the recent low level marijauna conviction pardons thatn came with recreational legalization and yet I can’t get a fucking break over a misdeamonor from 20 years ago.

I guess today’s only wins are, I took a bath, that’s two in under a week, and eventually tonight I will get another chance to try to sleep more than a couple of hours. I took 15 mg melatonin, 50 mg benadry;, 30 mg buspar, 1 mg Xanax last night…And still…2 hours and some change in sleep and no return and not even a fucking nap cos my mind is racing with all this other bullshit on my plate.

Least while awake I occasionally put on some music on Sirius via the TV and have found some new metal music I like. Bit of pop, too. I want so desperately to connect to Keith Urban’s music cos damn, he is fine to look at but…just does nothing for me. Maybe he’s too pretty and popular for me to relate to. I will say this. The cover he did of Taylor Swift’s Lover was kind of pretty. I can’t stand the original and I am sorry cos I know Taylor said that was her favorite track, but her version was just too pastel for me. His at least made me not cringe. High praise from a metalhead about pop and country artists, man.

I should feed myself. I think I have the stuff to make a small pan of chili. I just don’t like eating during the day unless it’s beef jerkey or celery dipped in peanut butter. I like my one meal to be supper. Though Spook has been on such a brat warpath lately, I almost never get to feed myself til after 8 p.m. Everyone says it’s because I don’t make her eat with me but honestly, I can’t stand ramen and won’t eat it, so I am not gonna be a hypocrite and make her eat meatloaf or chili. Though I wish she wasn’t always ready for supper at 4 p.m. but that’s just been Spook since she was a toddler. If we can eat the same meal together once or twice a week, I take it as a win.

I am hungry.

I have no energy to go clean dishes so I can then open cans and packets and fry meat and…

Meal in a pill. I LOVE that idea. I am tired of making the effort, sick of everything that tastes good being bad for my health and weight, sick of how much more healthy food costs while tasting horrid…

Meal in a pill. Billion dollar idea. Cure the obesity epidemic right up.

I know, I am funny. I thought it was just my tin foil hat that made me funny to others but I guess my naive notions of logic are pretty hilarious, too.

I did put up another post today on my random blog but I do’t have the motivation to put the link here.

The anger and frustration are giving way to my exhaustion. Color me apathetic.