Archive for panic attack

Wiped Out Wednesday

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on April 17, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

So, on the sucky side…I had my dad on my step before 8 a.m. and he screamed at me because he had to knock twice before I answered my door. “Your house is on fire! It could be, no more attention than you pay to the door.” (I’ve asked and asked for a wireless doorbell for this reason, duh.) He was on my ass to get lawn mowed. I was still in my jammies. Then he volunteered my brother to help me which usually involves me reminding him not to lollygag. He did okay today, and I did 3/4 of the lawn on my own. Was still thankful for the help even if they didn’t do it out of kindness, they had to go out of town and didn’t want him sitting at home on the internet or game system.

I bathed.

I got a call.

It was the same woman from last night who I feared I had scorched earth with my meltdown. She asked me if I could come in at 1 p.m. for an interview today. I agreed, though that damn misdemeanor from 15 years ago on my record keeps screwing me over and it does hamper enthusiasm, on top of my own shame. (You cannot let go of past mistakes when the world won’t let you.) But even though it took me awhile to find as it was in a residential home 6 miles outside of town (15 miles from my house). I found it, didn’t even have a house number so I just guessed between the other house numbers on the mailboxes.

The interview went pretty well. She was laid back and seemed to forive me my trespass last night. She made it clear she can’t do anything for me until I get the state healthcare worker waiver which could take 4-6 weeks but if I get that done and headquarters okays it she said she’d let me get my feet wet as a sub for their regular workers so I could pick my hours and activity level. She was concerned about the panic attacks but I was just honest.

I came home feeling pretty pleased with myself.

Then my dad called and asked how it went and I told him…and he told me to move along, there HAS to be other jobs where my past doesn’t matter. UM, HUH???? I am making an effort and going with who calls me for interviews, ffs. Not to mention his woman isn’t even working part time and is always griping about needing money and she’s so bored just being a housewife…But she’s too good for Mickey D’s or any of the other places I am supposed to force people at gunpoint to interview and hire me. He’s such a hypocrite, but so typical of a narcissist. No matter how well I do, he is always there to shoot me down and remind me I need to do better. Why the rules are so different for his woman and their man child is beyond me. Hell, they let him keep every cent of his check, don’t even charge him for the $8 a day in gas it costs them to haul him back and forth to town. I’m raising a kid alone and I can’t catch a break.

Today he told me I can’t keep driving my car, safely, without 4 replacement tires due mine being dry rotted and about to blow at any time. And it’s like, wtf, with what money I’m just trying to keep the power bill on (try catching up with $870 dollars when your entire monthly income is only $835) and now I am stuck in Armpit because I can’t afford even half decent used tires…I can’t catch a break and every time we seem to get a little one, we get hit with another damn catastrophic expense.

I am exhausted. I need to just zone out, breathe, calm down. So that is what I am gonna do. I’ve earned it.

Gotta make you wonder about the donor not being able to find work for 7 months even with his background in management whereas I’ve at least had a few nibbles since I ventured outside applying only for jobs I have experience with. Methinks the man does not want a job because then he will be forced to support his kid. That is as low as it gets yet he says he’s a good man. Makes me wonder if his derangement is so extreme he needs hospitalized.

We’re still doing the fundraising thing (I’ve noticed the gofundme page says there’s been 0 shares, that’s brutal) but power, tires, and all this other crap…Gotta keep trying. It’s for a noble cause. I am trying to put my life back together.

The quickest option is, of course, our paypal account. (How well does Spook have me trained that so often I refer to everything as ‘ours’, not just ‘mine’?)

A million sporks of gratitude to everyone who has helped, spread the word, given us kind words of encouragement, even helped keep the cats fed and littered when I couldn’t…YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME AND WE LOVE YOU ALL.

Now this wicked woman is going to take a rest and shut off my brain for a bit while Spook is at her grandpa’s. I earned a zone out after all I have accomplished this week, and especially today.


Invisible Consumption

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , on November 24, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I find myself wanting to throat punch pretty much everything and everyone which could be hormones on top of the black depression but mostly, I think I’m just sick of every aspect of life. Not just my life. LIFE. I may as well not be on meds, at all, let alone two anti depressants, as low and blackened as I have been feeling. Every damn year, the holidays, the weather change, it just kicks me in the skull and leaves me reeling.

We had a decent enough Thanksgiving after people took their initial verbal swings and started out on a sour note. (My kid loves creating drama between me and my mom and dad.) It wasn’t too awful, dad and his faction were sick so they stayed in Armpit and had their own meal. We escaped before the excess ‘friends who think they are family and invite themselves’ showed up. We did eat with two of them, though, my sis and mom took pity on them because they are homeless and have been getting food out of trash cans. Well, these people have been a waste case for so long, they lost custody of all 3 of their kids (they had a newborn same day I had Spook and he tested positive for drugs so he was taken away from them right in front of us) and they can’t seem to stay off pot and meth so it’s difficult feeling too sorry for them. I mean, on one hand, I was like, “Well, I haven’t had to sleep outdoors or get food out of the dumpster.”

Other hand, this chick has a nicer smart phone than I do (if your phone cost more than $29.99, then you,too, qualify) and was bragging about all her digital content and…Idk, I didn’t go numb, I just went…less interested. I have done everything to the best of my abilities for 9 years to take care of my child, done without so much, sacrificed so much, and gotten little help even being a single disabled mom…Adn then donor has done fuck all that the law didn’t forcefully take from him…Yet my family takes every chance to point out any failing I’ve had with Spook and yet they take in those two, what’s this, four times in two years now? Cos they like their drugs and somehow that makes them more worthy than me and my invisible depression. (Throat punch, want to so bad!!!)

It’s not just depression, anymore, and it’s not invisible to me. It’s complete consumption. Lack of hope on every front and I am just on auto pilot,trying to keep my kid fed and clothed and schooled. Beyond that, I’ve got nothing. Sleep, which does not come easy nor does it last long, is my only comfort, and it is filled too often with bad dreams that leave me feeling like I didn’t sleep at all. And still it’s preferred over being awake. I have searched my soul for an explanation of why I would feel this desolate and it goes far beyond living in Armpit and not having enough money to make ends meet.

Just a few hours dealing with my family and faking my way through my mom’s calling me an ‘ogre’ cos I wouldn’t let my kid have pie until she’d had a plate of actual food…Then my brother in law growling ‘fuck you’ at my sister cos she gave him her cold and then he made a comment about if their friend didn’t have any money, he couldn’t go with them shooting their guns ‘no free rides’….from a fucking pothead who didn’t hold a job for 20 years until 3 months ago when platonic neoptism helped him get hired at a desperate hellpit…And my sister adores this guy, that’s the shitty part. He’s awful to everyone but his gun and gamer buddies (and sometimes even to them) and just the sight of him curdles my blood. I have tried so hard to like him. But the sad fact is, he is now employed, never mind 21 years of his free ride, he now looks down on the rest of us and even lords his larger paycheck over my sister who support him and their kid all these years…People like that infuriate me, period. Like former smokers suddenly on their high horse. I have serious rage thoughts when it comes to this guy and I try to pretend he’s not even a factor in my life. Yet he is because he’s with my sis and she loves him and even my kid thinks his grumpiness is kind of cool. What the actual fuck?

I think the take away there is that just a few hours around my loving family made me feel so unloved and useless I wanted to kill myself. I don’t throw statements like that around idly, either, I was feeling truly suicidal. Because if drug addicts get more respect than I do cos of my mental disabilities, from my own mother, well…fuck it, I’m done before I even got started.I thought it was just dad’s faction who made me feel shitty cos stepmom got pissy that her son likes my chicken noodles better than what she makes and told Spook ‘your mom cooks bad food, it’s crappy’…It’s all of them!!!! I can love them from a distance easily, I need away from them once and for all. It would be the best thing for me and Spook, to leave this state and move far away from them and their negativity. Because they don’t realize that she sees how they treat me and insult me and put me down and so she’s beginning to do the same thing…

Driving back to Armpit Thanksgiving afternoon around 4:45 I had a full blown panic attack behind the wheel because the sun was blinding in spots and it disoriented me enough to make me think I was on the wrong road (I wasn’t, but it sure felt that way.) It was all I could do to just keep my white knuckled hands on the wheel,breathe in and out, and not show my kid that I was indeed losing my shit.Been a bit since I had a full on attack like that, where I got dizzy and disoriented.

It took the rest of that evening and all of yesterday for me to regain my equilibrium. It was a sudden crash and burn, cos we had 55 degrees and sun for the holiday then yesterday it dropped to the 40’s and rained 16 hours straight. That’s toxic for seasonal affect sufferers. All I could think about was going back to sleep. I had another one of those vivid dreams that was scary but exhilarating and I wanted to go back to it but it doesn’t work that way…Every waking moment feels like an eternity, like having dry socket in your mouth, like being smothered off and on with a pillow and you just want it to end either way…THAT is the dark place where I am. And I am frankly disgusted with blogs allegedly about mental health struggles that read more like a humor column or technical manual on the topic. It’s got me feeling like I can’t even vent in my own space about my struggle cos I am obligated to be positive and thankful for what we do have and I a can’t feel the way I feel cos it’s a bummer and no one wants to hear it…

This is depression, people. Like it or not, it’s ugly, it’s dark, it’s crippling, and it’s invisibly consuming me while the world continues to slam dance all around me. I mean, stabbings on black Friday over sales, it’s absolute insanity and it’s overwhelming even on the outside looking in, I can’t imagine the horror of being in the middle of it. What’s wrong with humanity when it comes to physical blows over an electronic item?

Yet I’m the one who is made to feel wrong and lousy and useless and I can’t overrule my own dark thought processes because I HAVE A DISORDER. This is not a choice.

Someone asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I replied simply, “I want our child support order enforced.”

Because I am used to living by the skin of my teeth, but I can’t even pull that off right now due to the move and the donor fucking us over again.

I wish I was a drug addict sometimes, I really do, because the world has more empathy for addiction than mental illness.

That makes the world the fucked up place.

And living in that fucked up place on the outside as well as inside my own head is taking a toll.

Please note I used the word ’empathy’, not sympathy. I don’t need to be pitied. I need to be understood.

I’d rather be dead than feel like this much longer. So pray to whatever deity you believe in that this is hormonal and holiday induced and not the new normal.

If this is the new normal, then I am going to need a stay in a psych ward to protect me from myself. It’s a scary feeling and I pray to the sacred pegacorn it passes soon.

Off Kilter And The Bad Thoughts Are Knocking At The Door

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on July 21, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

As mentioned in my previous post, due to my own inadvertent screw up, I am facing another financial set back, not to mention the entire family turning against me and even dragging my daughter into it. (Seriously, this was an adult problem between me and my sister, and she dragged even my 8 year old into it, as if I wasn’t feeling shitty enough, now my kid is going to judge me. For an honest albeit stupid mistake.) I spent last night alternating between tears of self loathing and doom and nervous throwing up. It’s bad enough when you fuck up and it creates a rift between you and another person, but now the entire family knows and I am in the hot seat. I will remain there even if I by some miracle manage to juggle some expenses and correct my fuck up. It’s like a family lynch mob with me as the lynch-ee. Maybe I deserve it. Though I fail to see why my sister had to drag everyone, including my kid into it.

Today I am on edge, unfocused, freaking out, my stomach is churning. I want my kid home but either way if they bring her home or I go fetch her, I will be facing down my lynch mob. God, I want a normal family where things aren’t used as fodder to start wars within amongst us all. And dear god, if feeling like crap had a monetarily value, I could pay off bills for the entire family. It’s gotten so bad, the Bad Thoughts are lurking in the shadows, knocking on the door. Reminding me that hey, I gave it my best shot but obviously I am never going to get everything right so why bother sticking around.’

I have to reject this. I have to toughen up, deal with my mistake and the fall out, but my prior trust issues inasmuch as my sister handling it between just the two of us are metastasized. Good people don’t drag an 8 year old into adult matters this way. And my family has always done the two face back stabbery since I was a kid so this isn’t new, I just had hope as we got older, that fucked up dynamic might change. It hasn;t and once I correct my mistake…I think it’s time to go back to my minimal contact with them policy. Because even without this fuck up, I am always on some shit list they have and I am fed up. Fighting depression and anxiety are hard enough with the people who ‘love’ me making it even worse.

I am willing to sacrifice, scrimp, cut corners, even let the internet get turned off (though it’s year long contract so I’d still owe them)…I used to dodge my responsibilities and mistakes back during the manic days but I have busted my ass and my brain becoming a better person. I thought I was getting there. I was apparently wrong but I can’t let myself give up and I cannot give power to the Bad Thoughts.

While I am willing to sacrifice and scrimp…

I am praying for a few kind people to donate to Spook’s fundraiser She deserves a birthday and the necessary stuff for the start of school. So if you have a heart at all, help Spook. I’ll try to clean up my mess and keep current on the bills, but…she shouldn’t be punished cos her mom doesn’t always get it right.

Even if you can’t donate…just a share shows you care. Spook is just a little girl about to turn 9 and enter 4th grade. Her getting some clothes, supplies, and even a half decent birthday is every bit as worthy a cause as donating to some soulless political candidate or a campaign to ban plastic straws. Show her there are some decent people out there.

I am trying to be a decent person but falling a bit short. I won’t ever stop trying, though. That little girl is the light of my life and even if my family and the rest of the world deems me to be an evil spawn of satan…All that matters is that my kid keeps seeing me as ‘a good mom.” Just need a little help right now.

Losing It

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , on May 18, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Quiet brain started rumbling after I picked my kid up from school and every tiny thing I tried to do went wrong. Like disassembling the vacuum and fixing it and I went totally blank on where one part went back in even though I’ve taken that section apart ten times. Just…blank. Then I dumped a glass of water. The wind kept knocking the fan over but if I close the windows, the humidity kills us. Another kitten passed away. R called to ask if I’d keep the shop open from 4pm to 6pm tomorrow while he goes out of town to look at a car as his got side swiped and is barely running… My kid started mouthing me in front of her friend and after telling her no to the same thing five times, I went a little overboard with the ‘firm’ voice. Gah, just…suckage.

Around 8:30 p.m. the panxiety set in. Only it was a scarier panxiety than I’ve had in a long time. The light dimmed when I plugged the fan in my kid’s room. Which brought me back to a text from my sis a few days ago when she saw a firetruck heading my address direction and she was worried we had a fire. And of course, a week or two back my dad tossed out how he thinks we’re going to burn to death in this place. Then I realized one of my smoke detectors fell off the wall and is trashed and the other has a dead battery…I AM A TERRIBLE MOTHER, IRRESPONSIBLE AND UNFIT!!!!

I started spinning out of control, mentally. Looking at all the stuff I’ve let go, all the stuff falling apart. Even this laptop, the keyboard got splashed with sticky stuff (OJ, I think, courtesy of leaping felines) which is more money and having R install it. Oh and in spite of two cooling fans external, the laptop is getting hot really fast meaning likely my fan is clogged but I can’t disassemble a damned computer and the person I know can is too busy to contact me unless it is related to his needs.

Downward spiral at breakneck speed. Sheer terror, going around turning off anything that doesn’t need to be on. And I found my kitchen dark and the fridge off which means likely when the fan in my kid’s room dimmed, it’s tied to that circuit and the safety breaker was thrown. Had to reset that. And then it came in the back of my head, the rare appearance but always terrifying…

You’re trapped like a rat in a maze here, you’re unfit to be a mother, your kid deserves better…You’re losing it and you feel buried alive and you know what would just fix it all is to kill yourself.

These dark thoughts do not come to me often, that has always been the one plus of whatever brand of imbalance I have going on. I’m not suicidal. But when the panxiety hits the roof and I feel so overwhelmed…Scumbag brain starts whispering, then screaming, like a bunch of cruel teenagers encouraging a classmate to jump off the roof ledge and kill themselves.

I am a little scared by tonight’s mental events. I don’t see the psych nurse until May 30th but if I am falling apart with paranoia and hopelessness three times in the same week…I am decompensating. I need to call the dr office and talk to someone but as short staffed as they are, by the time I hear back, it will be the day of the appointment. I need a secondary anti depressant and I need it desperately. I was playing my little ponies with my kid earlier and honestly…I was keeping a promise I made to her last night. I have zero desire to play. I zone out and fake it and…THIS IS NOT ME!

I didn’t realize how quickly I was circling the drain until tonight. Because I had a few less vile periods and thought I was close to the upswing of seasonal depression. Instead I am falling to pieces and emotional shrapnel is everywhere. My writing has practically flat lined. I have no desire to go to yard sales (as if I have money.) Even food has lost its appeal and the tv shows I watch…background noise and something to distract myself from my own thoughts.

I AM NOT GOING TO HURT MYSELF, so please don’t take that message from this post. I posted this simply because I NEED the professionals to know how bad it gets for me at times, how terrifying it is, how paralyzing it is. To be so overwhelmed, have so little support or help, to just tread water day after day until nights like this when I started going under the surface, sputtering for breath. Convinced sharks are coming for me even though there are no sharks in the murky local river where I am drowning.

I took 2mg Xanax and am starting to calm down. I hope this is an isolated incident. Even if these paranoia bouts hit three or four times a year…It’s too many times. I feel like mentally I am so far gone and such a failure…

You know what the depressive distortions are telling me.

It’s terrifying. More terrifying is living in fear that one day…I’ll start believing the distortions and finally throw in the towel.

I think the brain needs a reboot, gonna attempt sleep. But with my brain circling with all the possibilities of what could go wrong while I am asleep…It’s not going to be restful sleep.

I hate this.

Short Circuit

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , on April 14, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Not sure why but today was a bitch. Been a long time since the anxiety disorder ran riot and panxiety grabbed me in is jaws and shook me about like a rag doll.

All morning and all day, I felt this foreboding. Something bad coming, bad juju. Enter panic and paranoia. It had my stomach torn up. I blew off a prior commitment because my brain had me convinced leaving the house would bring something bad about.

I took a Xanax, to no true avail. I’ve been short, testy with everyone, and raised my voice too many times to count or justify. Explain, sure. When your brain is sending you misinformation and making you feel fragile enough to shatter in a thousand pieces…it is easy to spaz out and lose your cool.

Not my finest hour, today. Not a good start going into 4 days of my kid being home and all the Easter rigamarole. I am TRYING but this ninja anxiety and its throwing stars of panic attacks is just brutal.

Point for me recognizing my feelings were a distortion. Point against me, I handled it as ass trashy as possible. (Though when I got out of the shower and one of Spook’s friends decided to barge in the door while I had no pants on…)Yeah, I had every right to go off on that, you do NOT enter without knocking, ESPECIALLY when someone is telling you NO, do NOT come in. Fucking sad I gotta keep the place on max security prison lockdown to combat kids who just barge on the damned door.

All around a very bad mental health day.

I hope I feel more solid tomorrow so I can get my Easter shopping done while Spook is at mom’s. Hope, hope, hope, so hope.

Really hate anxiety disorder even more than my plethora of other dysfunctions. Anxiety is crippling and it sparks fight or flight response. I don’t like it. I’d about undergo an exorcism just to get rid of it.

Though that too would give me an anxiety attack so…fuck a duck in a bucket.

The Confrontation Complication

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , on April 6, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I try not to do flood posting but…Life happens.

No sooner than my last post about the neighbor’s hell hound…My kid was walking down to her friend’s, on the opposite of the road, and the dog went after her, straining its chain to get near her. She started wailing, terrified, rightfully so and I was PISSED…I went next door, running on ‘protect my young’ instinct and the guy was outdoors with the dog and I told him he’d better get his dog under control cos it just went after my kid. I further informed him about yesterday’s chain/bicycle event and said he needed to get his dog under control.

This was followed by him taking the dog inside and the woman there started to scream, and I couldn’t make much out, but I have little doubt the psycho was carrying on about me complaining and telling the dog to shut up, my cats, blah blah. These people truly are examples of why the term ‘trailer trash’ applies. They scream for the dog to shut up as much as me and my kid do because it never shuts up when it is tied out. Hypocrites.

I followed this up with a call to the landlord, not that he can do anything, but I wanted it on record what is going on with these people. I was told to call the pound but that dog has gone to the pound at least once this year and they went and ‘bailed’ it out. So what good does that do. Not to mention, unless it’s loose, it’s just a noisy dog in their yard and no one will do fuck all about that.

Now for all my “fuck you” mentality (and yes, it is sincere, not affectation)…I do NOT do confrontation. It sets off the anxiety disorder, which leads to an anxiety attack followed by sheer panic and paranoia.

So while earlier I was feeling semi solid, even had plans to go mow a patch of weeds in front of the place…Then the dog incident and now I am so shaken, I don’t want to set foot outside the place. I also rounded up my cats lest that psych meth head next door decide to poison them or let the dog loose on them. I am worried my tires will be slashed. Or she will make some false report to children’s wellfare. Let’s face it. People are petty and vindictive, a lesson hard learned but well ingrained.

I logically know this is the disorder talking. Logic has nothing to do with the way I am feeling in spite of a Xanax. I am woozy, weak, my brain can’t stop spinning. Even telling me I should have left well enough alone because I have to live next to these idgets.

I have to keep telling myself, I’ve let the months of endless barking go, I said nothing when the fucking dog was loose…But going after my kid…ANY PARENT WOULD BE AND SHOULD BE PISSED, CONCERNED, AND CONfRONTATIONAL.

Of course, not everyone lives next door to a scary screaming meth head who was just in jail a couple of months back. I fear this woman. Because ya know, were she a logical, decent human being…

Hearing that your dog just tried to attack a child would make you apologize and handle your dog more responsibly, rather than making a concerned mother look unreasonable for being concerned and voicing that concern.

So now I can’t write my story because I am still in the aftermath of terrible panic and paranoia and I know I did the right thing but anxiety disorder gives zero fucks.

This is why I am on disability. Between the bipolar months long depressions and anxiety attacks so bad they impact my physical health…

I am a strong person, and kinda bad ass but when it comes to confrontation and panic…I can’t seem to conquer my disorders and it makes me feel weak and pathetic. Anyone else experience this with confrontational situations?

It sucks beyond words.

Devilation Long Post

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , , , , on October 22, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

Yes. It okay to groan and say, “Crap, Morgue is making up words again. WTH is devilation?”

Frankly, it is my blend of deviation + devil. Because the tiniest deviation sets off my panic receptors, sends my brain reeling, paranoia soaring, and quite frankly…makes me a little bonkers. Therefore deviation must be caused by the devil himself.

Case in point: yesterday’s shrink appointment. I normally don’t have Friday appointments so I was unprepared for the deviation from the normal protocol. Instead of my usual check in point, I had to go the opposite side. Where I was made to stand at the glass 5 minutes even though three different staffers saw me standing there. Anxiety mounting, paranoia going willy nilly. Instant panic. Because THIS IS NOT THE RIGHT WAY, THIS IS DEVIATION. Devilation.

It occurred to me with all the changes and all the unfamiliar staff members, what if they changed shrinks on me and didn’t tell me? NOOOOOOOOOOOO.

By the time the nurse took me for weight and blood pressure…my normally perfectly normal pulse…was up 20 some odd points. Because…Panic. To top it all off I had shark week cramps which had kept me in bed sleeping most of the day and I was all sorts of off kilter.

I was further thrown when the shrink I’ve been seeing for 2 years addressed me as Miss (last name) rather than the normal “Niki.” WTF? Three months without an appointment and suddenly he’s forgotten me and has to go formal?

All in all…it was a decent appointment. Though the longer he let me talk and he listened…all I could see was the clock ticking, knowing anything over 10 ten minutes, the insurance gets charged over $250 for a 25 minute session. And insurance companies may be the devil, but I never want to use more than I absolutely need. So I felt panicked and paranoia and guilty.

He asked how I was doing. I said “sucky”. Which is a highly technical term in the psych field, ya know. I explained all the crap that’s gone wrong in recent months and how while not in the bathroom sobbing…I am definitely not coping well.

He observed, “You are obviously not doing as well as you were.”

Yep. Ya know, the four days without a shower greasy hair, the broken out skin (thanks stress and pms), the fact I was on full alert as if awaiting a ninja attack…I explained about the daily challenge of my daughter. Who this week started yelling DIE MOMMY DIE… Three minutes later,she hugged me and apologized. Then went to screaming how I am the worst mom on Earth. It’s hard enough to balance my own mental shit, now I walk on eggshells with her.

Shrink suggested something (not sure of spelling) neurotonin? as an excellent possibility for mood stabilization, depression, and anxiety.

I did not dismiss it out of turn but when he said “We’ve tried everything else.”

Oh…That was when my inner badass emerged and I said,”There’s one thing none of you have tried in the 7 years I’ve been coming here. Draconian as my old doc was, this was the ONLY thing he got right.”

So Dr. B asked me what it was we could not have possibly discussed already.

I explained about how my functioning was so much higher at the 1mg Xanax three times a day. I jumped on the defensive because I’ve had six docs in a row fight on even giving me Xanax so I was prepped for a “I’m not a junkie or selling my pills, this is just what worked well.”

I nearly hit the floor when he said, “I can definitely raise your Xanax, I am fine with that because I trust you.”

Well, fuck a fancy bag. First doc in ten years that’s been willing to hear me out and go there.

He was baffled how it’s never come up before and I hung my head, wringing my hands and tried to explain all the trouble I have had over the years with EVERY doctor from their center over the Xanax matter. You get to a point and think, oh, why bother when you’re gonna be treated like a junkie and shot down.

He reiterated, after making it clear he almost NEVER prescribes Xanax, that he trusts me because I am a straight shooter and I am doing my best to get well. Ya know, that recognition felt pretty damned good after having been reduced all those years to little more than a “statistical addict.”

I told him that of all the anti anxiety drugs and doses…this was the one that helped me the most. And I elaborated about how baffled I am by Adderall and Xanax being considered “party drugs” and abused. There is NO high for me. It just corrects what is wrong with my brain. He agreed and explained that the people who get high have all the normal levels so taking these meds does get them “high” whereas my serotonin levels and such are abnormal so the meds just put me where I should have been born.

I briefly touched on my frustration with being on disability and being broke and wanting so desperately to work…That I’ve looked into call centers from home, virtual assistant work, anything to get off disability and give my kid a better life. To which he said, “I see how hard you try and how much you struggle. The thing is, Niki, you are very smart. I have schizophrenics who are highly functioning so they can’t get disability. If you were granted it, you demonstrated your efforts and you EARNED it. And it’s a pittance, anyway, so you’re not living in luxury.”


S0 in spite of the devilation upsetting me so much…It was a good appointment. He raised my Xanax, kept all else the same, set me for two months, and agreed if I am still depressed then and my functionality lowers any more…he will increase the Pristiq. I am pleased with this.

Already, three 1mg doses in, I am feeling steadier. Is it a placebo effect? I don’t think so. I think this would have rescued me years ago if it weren’t for all the narrow minded shrinks grouping everyone together as pill junkies. I don’t know that it will help the depression,but if it calms the anxiety…Praise the sacred pegacorn.

On other notes…Twice this week I received sweet gestures of kindness from two people only known via internet when they commented on my blog. One I struggled with because I know they are not in any better position than I am to spare $. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful or rejecting but in the end, I really felt they should take that wonderful offer and spend it on themselves for they deserve it. On the other hand, the other gesture offered came from someone who is apparently in a better position and approached out of the blue after reading a post of mine…And I agreed to accept that offer for it was extended out of the blue for something I want very much and simply can’t afford. I worry I might have hurt someone’s feelings but truly…When someone struggles as much, if not more than me, I feel sooo lousy taking from them.

(Unless my cats need vet care, then we all know I will rob a newborn cos, well I am insane for cats.)

The news with my uncle has not been great. Twice, the hospital scheduled surgery but he is so compromised by chemo, they’ve decided there is less risk to not operate right now in spite of his aneurysm (however the fuck it is spelled). The local hospital insisted the aneurysm had grown so they transferred him to big hospital out of town, now that hospital says he’s in less danger to leave him be for now. WTF? Apparently our local hospital, currently being sued by a woman whose husband was sent home and later died due to their negligence, wants no responsibility for high risk patients so they farm them out but still send a bill triple the costs of a normal urban hospital.

This shit is infuriating.

R requested something of me yesterday I found truly nutsy kookoo. He asked me to bring home this flat screen main board (motherboard) and bake it in my oven. I was like WTF? But I did it anyway and all the kids were so amazed  that I baked a Tv part…Guess what? He popped it back into the TV and now it actually works. Something to do with the ball grid array technology, the oven apparently heats it up and makes things work properly. Now I can say in addition to broiling my baby Wet and Dry when I was 8…I’ve baked a TV motherboard.

Today was going swimmingly, aside from my inability to get my ass out of bed because well, I was cold and some dreams were annoying ( R making more demands for parts, me hitting my old car with my current car) and some sex dreams (can you say, I went off my lithium and my nethers work again???)…Stepmonster stopped by to give the cats some of their leftovers. She ordered Spook to pick up the yard and after that…Spook was all about cleaning. She did my cat boxes, rinsed the dishes I washed…

And then one of her friends showed up and since then it’s been 4 kids screeching and bickering and me wanting to yank out clumps of hair. No deviation here, same old same old.

I read a FANTASTIC article concerning adult ADHD that I would at least like to share the link to with you guys and hope anyone who struggles with this or thinks they might will read it.


Not to perpetuate this already too long diatribe but a couple of excerpts really resonated with me. Read, don’t read,but I want to throw it out there.

Duane Gordon was a project manager at a firm in Montreal when his boss asked him to run the Monday morning meeting. “I was excited because this was obviously a test of [whether] I could eventually be groomed for taking over the department,” he recalls.

That discussion took place on Friday afternoon. On Monday, everyone showed up for the meeting, wondering where the boss was, including Gordon. “It was completely gone from my memory that I was to run this meeting,” he says. When the boss didn’t show up, everyone went back to their desks. Later in the day, the boss came in and asked Gordon how the meeting went. “I said, ‘We didn’t have the meeting, you weren’t here. I figured we’d have it when you came in.’ And he looked at me completely dumbfounded, like, ‘How is that even possible?'”

He explains: “You never know when something is going to go horribly wrong. There’s every chance it will. If my boss calls me, I wonder what went wrong. If I get mail, I wonder if I’m going to jail. You assume and expect that at any moment you’re going to get sideswiped by something, and it’s something you did or forgot to do that is going to have severe repercussions.”

describes having ADHD like this: “It’s a chronic sense of overwhelmed. It feels like you’re being attacked in all areas of your daily life — like sounds, and lights, and sensory things can be overwhelming,” Matlen is the author of Survival Tips for Women with ADHD.”

She says she hit a wall after she became a mother. “And that is what we see a lot with women, once their lives become more complicated, they can’t stay on top of things. Both of my children turned out to be hyperactive. I couldn’t keep up. I felt like a total failure, someone with two college degrees couldn’t do something as seemingly easy as putting dinner on the table every night or keeping the house organized.”

She says it took a toll on her self-esteem, “Like, what is wrong with me? There’s people with five kids who can juggle all the responsibilities of taking care of a family. Why couldn’t I do it with two? Am I dumb? Am I incompetent?”

She wants others with ADHD to understand what she now knows: “You’re not broken, you’re not hopeless, you just need a little extra help.”

“I feel like a healthy person when I wake up in the morning and continue with my day, but I do have a lot of thoughts in my head. I’m fidgety a lot. I can’t sit still; I can’t get comfortable in a chair. Maybe I’m a little emotional. ADHD can [do that]. Sometimes I’m feeling good and then someone says something bad to me and next I’m feeling kind of down.”

She says her condition has caused negative interactions with co-workers and managers. “People don’t understand the difficulties you have when it comes to focusing and distractions. “Instead of excelling, you’re always [considered] mediocre,” she says.

Okay, that all being covered…Spork of Fortitude for all who stayed with me.


I am NOT a doctor and cannot tell you whether you have ADHD or your symptoms also stem from anxiety/bipolar/depression. ONLY a qualified doctor can make that determination. Still, if you see yourself in any of that particular article, it cannot hurt to talk to your doctor about it. Yes, adults can have ADHD. Many of us are simple ADD, lacking hyperactivity yet having ping pong thoughts. Seek professional help and know…You are not alone.