Archive for pmdd

I’ve got nothing…again

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , on June 23, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I keep ‘rebooting’ my brain, thinking tomorrow has got to be different, that I have GOT to snap into action and get some shit done.

Nope. I got nothing. Again.

Just feeding myself a TV dinner was an undetaking but I am glad I did it, I was starting to feel nauseated and headachey, which happens when I go too long without eating a proper meal. Least now I don’t have a grumbling belly and I don’t feel wonky-sickly.

I do feel crampy and achey, though, the wind up of my monthly PMDD. For those unfamiliar with this term, think PMS on stereoids and meth with an anger management issue that lasts 2 weeks a month, including physical pain.

Deep down I know I’d feel better if I got shit done.

Surface says, zero fucks given.

This is depression. My meds are so fucked up, courtesy of an inexperienced, inept nurse practitioner. I should have pitched a fit to simply go off the Abilify. I should have fought for myself.

The woman does not bring out the best in me. It’s my bad.

Trying to write with the mom mom mom monster on high speed is not working for me.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. Fighting these blah states is futile. I am just going to ride it out. Like I have the choice of opting out. That is reserved for those around me who aren’t strong enough to handle bits and pieces of what I live 24-7. I feel justified in being disdainful toward them, considering the crap they throw my way simply because they can’t bring themselves to accept that mental illness is a real disability.

Two wrongs don’t make a right, but it keeps me from smacking ’em with shovels.

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32 Pennies In A Ragu Jar

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , , , on May 24, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

“Got 32 pennies in a Rago jar, that’s all I got to my name…”
—-Warrant

Technically, I don’t have a Rago jar and I only have about 27 pennies but sentiment is the same. I have $2.39 cents on my debit card and about half a gallon of gas in my car. I am also completely OUT of cat food. Since I stood up to my dad about his bullying me because I can’t make anyone HIRE me, he has told me to fuck off on all fronts that might involve him being anything but a dick. Even if it punishes my cats. I thought maybe I could surreptitiously get some out of their outdoor stash while they were gone, then say later, hey, I got some food for the cats…But that was empty. So…

What to do. The minimart sells a six dollar bag of Tidy Cat but not even a can of Nine Lives and I have hungry cats. I can’t even get to town to pawn anything. And my wonderful father is digging in his heels all because I pointed out the obvious, that I can’t force someone to give me a job. All I can do is keep applying, go to interviews when called, and keep showing an interest. I can’t bloody well stalk them. My nephew took their advice about calling the hiring managers when he was looking for work and they actually yelled at him for bugging them and said if he was hired, they’d have called. But dad and stepmonster are living in the 50’s when being such blatantly in your face was a positive thing. To them my lack of stalkerish behavior is a slacker trait.

This is adding to my situational depression, of course. I guess I can feed the cats mac and cheese, it is the only thing we have like a case of to eat for the next week.

I am cramping off and on. It is humid as fuck. My kid is home for the first full day and it was all I could do to get her to stop running in and out and mom mom mom mommy mom mom…I am ready to bloody scream.

I am hormonal as hell and not sure whether to be happy just to spite everyone or to be teary eyed just cos I feel like it every half hour or so.

I am ready for bed. I thought yesterday was an oddity, that a half ass night’s sleep would help and it did. I was up at 5:30 a.m. though so it’s making for a super long, super sweaty day. Not even being able to run to town where my sister would give me some cat food and toilet paper cos I can’t put gas in the car…I’d like to say it was lack of planning on my part but you can’t have extra when you got more going out than coming in, it’s not possible. And meanwhile, everyone is beating up on me for not being hireable but no one is doing a damn thing to hold the donor accountable for his child. Hard not to feel bullied when even the lawyer gives zero fucks and my dad can’t be arsed to even LOAN me twenty bucks til next Friday. I am trying, ffs.

I am trying to see the positive here but there’s nothing happy about hungry kitties.

I am missing the days when things got like this and I could just drop out til the check came in by popping my prescribed coma pills.

One thing that’s better today is the anxiety level. It’s lower, but that could be the xanax and buspar I took this morning when I felt my skin starting to crawl off my bones.

I looked into some work from home jobs that I am actually qualified for and ya know what? None of my tech is current enough, I can’t afford the necessary software, and I don’t have a quiet place to work because a train goes by 15 times a day and drowns out everything inside.

Optimism is overrated and positivity is not catching on.

I wish it was but reality is what it is and mine…blows a herd of goats. Ask me when the horror-mones aren’t rioting in the street and I can at least feed my cats and get to 15 miles to town and back.

Being stranded and failing kitty cats does not bring out the best in me.

When Your Night Fucks UpYour Day

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , on April 29, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I had a menstrual meltdown last night. Inexplicable anger, tears, feelings of absolute doom and dismay, think I said ‘kill me now’ a few times. My kid did not know what to think but she was ready for bed before 8 p.m. Probably to escape crazy mommy. I was ready for bed myself. Once the dark thoughts set in and the hormonal distortion begins, you’re not going to ‘talk yourself out of’ how you are feeling. Just go to sleep and let your brain reboot.

Problem with that was I woke 4 times before 1 a.m. Then I got pissed off so I sat up and watched the last half hour of NCIS New Orleans and an episode of Major Crimes. I settled on something boring in black and white as my ‘send off’ background but it was another 90 minutes of tossing and turning and knowing if I didn’t get to sleep soon, I’d never want to peel myself out of bed come alarm time. Towards 4 a.m. I turned off the TV and turned on the laptop,put a crime doc in the background, and within 40 minutes…I had drifted out. Only to wake at 5:30 then when the alarm did go off, it was me and the snooze button holding hands til 7:15. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. My entire body aches, the cramps are still haunting me. I couldn’t wait to get my kid out the door to school and resume my fetal position in fort blankie and nod off again.

That was an hour ago and I’m still awake. In pain, depressed, anxious, sleepy, and pissed off. Because I couldn’t sleep through the night it has now thrown off my entire day. Because had I gotten a good night’s sleep, I’d be ready to face the day with more motivation and energy and perhaps accomplish some stuff. Now…I am exhausted. I am irate. It’s a gloomy wet day, so of course, my mood is in the gutter on that front alone. (Yet the sun was triggering me yesterday, wtf???)

I just want to feel better, I really do. Why can’t my mind and body just cooperate with me?

Since I can’t change my shitty night, I am going to try to lay down and maybe nap a bit and perhaps have a resurgence of ‘give a damn’ when I wake. IF I can nod off. May work some painkiller in there somewhere, too. Not really wanting to take Abilify after how loopy the first dose made me but I will. Eventually. Like maybe after I eat. I am hungry as hell but since every food gives me reflux and I can’t afford Pepcid, I fear eating, even bland non heartburn inducing foods.

The sad thing is, about 80% of my weeks are like this. The interrupted sleep totally throws off my mental state for the next day and whatever plans I’d had or whims I’d wanted to indulge are down the drain. It’s difficult to get back on your feet when your own mental dysfunction keeps sweeping your legs out from under you.

I just want a job I can do from home. I want my body to just go through menopause already and stop this monthly insanity. I want to take my kid on her first vacation, keep the bills paid, get a different lawyer and rid myself of the donor, I want to get the cats flea meds so I won’t be swollen and broken out all spring and summer…I just want the weather to pick a topic and stay there for more than one day.

Right now I’d settle for an hour or two of sleep because I really am hurting and I really am exhausted physically and mentally. A brain reboot could be just what I need. Whether scumbag brain and body cooperate, though, is up in the air.

When I get this disgusted with myself I am reminded of a line from a Pink song. “Don’t wanna be my friend no more.”

I am fed up with myself but unlike others who can walk away from my madness…I am stuck here with said madness and I gotta tell you…
it fucking sucks.

Dysphoric

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , on April 28, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Feeling really aggravated and overwhelmed today. All the kittens running loose is driving me nuts, but it got down to 40 and is cold as hell out today so I’m not going to put them outdoors yet. May put them in the bathroom in a time out.

I got a bath finally cos my nasty hair was bugging me. Then I took my first dose of Abilify. For a bit, I wasn’t feeling any ill effects. Now suddenly I feel dizzy, a little groggy, and nauseated. Not amused.

I am on day 10 of my monthly hormonal dysphoric disorder and the cramps are hurting my back. I am irate. For no apparent reason. I just want it over with so I can maybe get 15 days of not being in physical pain and more bitchbeast than usual.

I told my dad I’d come have lunch with them today. I wish I hadn’t. I’m not feeling it now, for sure.

I am trying to do little chores around the house but I am so far behind and so overwhelmed, it seems fucking pointless. And my kid doesn’t help, she piles her stuff in the living room then lets it all fall to the floor and won’t throw away trash. And I harp and do NOT let her get away with it, she just doesn’t care and keeps doing it. I guess I should have been one of the fierce butt whooping ‘control with physical fear’ parents but it just isn’t me.

Okay, I am not liking how I am feeling since I took the Abilify. Might try it with food tomorrow. If this doesn’t go away, I am gonna be very pissed and very disappointed. This nausea and loopiness was why I went off lithium and avoided it like the plague.

I just wanted a gloomy calm day. Instead it’s bright and sunny, but not warm enough to enjoy going outside.

Gah. And I got notified that my applications for 3 more jobs had been closed out, position filled, and not even an interview call. It’s discouraging. I feel like the plague myself, no one wants to touch me as far as employment. And I can’t say I blame them, I am a basketcase without my full Xanax, and my moods are more down than up but far from stable. The littlest things stress me out so much I melt down.

Yet if I want to keep the cats fed and stuff, I gotta find a way to make money.

I had a nightmare last night that the donor came to visit Spook and took her away from me. It wasn’t realistic as it had grandparents involved paying for his lawyer and his parents are dead (I checked death records in Canada, to be sure, cos he lies so much.) It was truly frightening. I am busting my butt trying to be a good mom but all it taks is someone to imply otherwise and I start coming undone.

I had a decent day or two, at least, mentally. Sometimes, it’s as good as it gets.

Humpty Frumpty

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression, health with tags , , , , on April 21, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

In honor of egg and bunny day, I thought I’d liken myself to a cracked egg who cannot be properly reassembled ever again.

I’m not in boo hoo territory. I am PMDD hell. I woke multiple times during the night with a cramping back and belly and then I felt so shitty I didn’t even fill eggs and hide them as I have done for 7 years. I just set her stuff on the table, turned on the heat and fell face first back in bed. I literally could not keep my eyes. I tried to sit up and get focused and it just hurt and I ached and my eyelids felt like lead weights were dragging them down, pulling me back to hellish nightmare scape of my dreams. And there were some FUBAR and terrifying nightmares, one would think I should prefer being awake. My body and mind just weren’t on board.

So my kid plowed into her Easter stuff with wild abandon and kept shrieking every ten seconds and running to tell sleepy mommy thank you, you’re the best, I love you… And I tried to drag my ass out of bed, but my eyelids wouldn’t stay open. I kept nodding off, and then I had these dreams that felt real but were not real, like looking at the clock it and it was noon when in fact it was not even 8 a.m. yet…Very disconcerting.

I do not look forward to today. We first have to pop in to dad’s as my cancer battling aunt I barely know is going to be there and she wants to meet Spook. (My dad was just never close to her cos she lived 4 hours north and preaches religious stuff nonstop.) But when he said he wish she’d have kept on driving through the state and not contacted him, it was like, fuck, the woman’s getting chemo and radiation for stage 4 cancer and she apparently just wants to see her brother and his family for a little while. I guess his utter cruel rudeness made me realize that me being uncomfortable and ill at ease with a crowded room of people is the leat I can do when her own brother is such an ass.

From there we take my brother to his job, go spend 3 hours at my mom’s, pick my brother up, and bring him home then we can collapse home ourselves. Only by then my nephew and his fiancee will probably stop by and by that point, I am gonna be Psychotica. I have run, myself ragged this week and while others can make their derisive noises because ‘that is just life, grow up’…I know I am about to drop if my brain doesn’t get a much needed respite. It just won’t be tomorrow since Spook is off school. But at least I know why I am hurting and why my brain just wants to sleep, that is classic PMDD. It is brutal. I hope I don’t have some sort of hormonal meltdown with all the madness today. And anything more than 3 people is madness for me, so a house filled with 15 people-only 3 I am actually related to…argghh.

I will plaster 0on the happy face. I will pretend I want to be there. I will try not to lose my fucking mind with boredom or lose my shit because I am so far from my safe space. I am gonna try. Maybe if I just give myself permission to be Humpty Dumpty for a couple of days, I will become the whirlwind I was last week again for a day or two. Then starts the crash and burn cycle again. What matters is that I am trying.

Our fundraiser for an overnight summer trip and legal fund to get a lawyer with a brain cell alive inside his skull.

paypal.me/MorgueAndSpook

https://www.gofundme.com/help-light-up-my-daughters-life

Hoppy Easter to all.

Mundane Monday Vlog

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , , on November 20, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I want to keep this blog based on written word rather than video but today kind of sucked and it’s taken 8 plus hours to upload a 25 minute vid clip to youtube (fuck you, ALLEGEDLY high speed internet costing me $80 a month) (and that’s after a 2 hour total reformat of my FUBAR Android) so…I’m just gonna post the video. My kid went to bed before 6 p.m., she is so exhausted from the cold and cough and I am pms-ing and dreading the family get together Thursday so…I’m gonna go on a melatonin vacation as soon as the vid finishes uploading. Honestly, I finally, after 3 tries, managed to watch Dxter thru season 8, final season, and um, yeah, didn’t like the ending but I finish it at last…I’m caught up on most my on line shows which has reduced me to garbage on the free digital antenna like Little House On The Prairie (acck, tho my kid could learn a few lessons on how to be less spoiled from that show), then an old Three’s Company (mindless funny) and now M*A*S*H. And I watch it by choice but mostly I remember it as a ‘booorring’ show my dad watched when I was a kid and we had one TV so I endured it…Now that I am OLD(er)…I appreciate the show for what it is.

I’d like to send a thank you to one of my followers who was so very decent and kind as to send us cat food and litter that will tide our cats over til my check comes. I’m never sure about proper netiquette and whether to link to someone’s blog or if they want to remain anon, so if she reads this…let me know. I have no problem linking to you, you have been so very kind to our furry friends. Merci!!!!

I’m ready for bed. PMDD doesn’t just give you pms on steroids, it pretty much makes your entire body ache and feel bruised. I am not opposed to rest. I just hope Spook feels better come morning, hate seeing her feeling so rough. She’s in good company as pretty much every member of the family has had it-and still is battling it. I’ve medicated her much as is safe, though, this ain’t bacterial. Viral stuff you gotta tough out and my kid isn’t good at that. She wants to fuss, whine, complain, manipulate, and fuss some more and drag you down with her. She’s like a 50 year old man in a 9 year old girl’s body 😛 (Oh, don’t get your boxers in a bunch, it’s funny.)

I swiped this pic from another blogger who is set to private so I won’t share the link unless she tells me it’s cool. I’ve got several adult coloring books but since I can’t afford good crayons or markers, just more stress, not less. Funny cartoon, tho.

FUNDRAISER OPENING PAGE UPDATED
Needing moeny for gas to get to town and back for multiple appointments isn’t exactly trying to score a fancy gaming system. Need, not greedy, and I really need money for gas to get my kid in for her yearly eye,dental, and well kid check up. So if nothing else,a gas station gift card would be awesome. I know, no dignity in having a hand out, but if you read the updated page, you’ll see I actually have a ‘future’ plan in place, I just need a little seed money, and to get through the holidays with the heat still on and my kid clothed appropriatly for the weather.


And check out the channel and subscribe, too.

Mood Limbo

Posted in depression, pms with tags , , , , , on June 9, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

(Yes, another post about monthly lady issues, but as it has become increasingly worse and impacts my precarious mental states, I find it necessary and relevant to tracking my altered moods and recording how it robs me of basic functionality…Plus, if someone else out there stumbles on this and has the same symptoms…well, they can at least know it’s not all in their head and they’re not alone.

Limbo, as in ‘how low can you go?’ The extreme ups and downs I am experiencing this past week are driving me mad. Mostly lows and total loss of motivation and functionality. I do the bare minimum and still feel like I’ve been awake for days lifting heavy machinery. I know it’s hormones but it really is mind boggling how much PMS/PMDD can impact one’s mental and physical state. I used to be willing to roll with all the standard bitchy PMS jokes. Now…after having my daughter my condition has gotten so much worse, there’s no laughter or joking area for me.

I think this may have been why I was so fired up for the doctor to raise my Cymbalta. Because whether I like it or not, every month this stuff comes and alters my mental state and robs me of even basic enjoyment. (One of my old shrinks actually LISTENED to me and would give me like 7 days of low dose Prozac to at least help ward off the monthly symptoms but yeah, he left and the current revolving door regime has zero interest in listening.) Like stopping at a yard sale, even if I’ve only got a quarter in my pocket, and just browsing. Participating in life, in things I enjoy. Housework is my bane of existence but right now,it’s so low on the priority list even if I wince when I see all the fuzz on the carpet. Using the vacuum is just too much trouble, lugging two seperate pieces room to room and it spits out more than it sucks up. (Yeah, my dad’s idea of an upgrade from my old vac, which did the same damn thing.) For some people, getting up and active helps with at least the physical pain involved in PMS/PMDD symptoms. For me, it just leaves me feeling more beaten up and bruised and exhausted.

So I try not to overtax myself physically and do battle with my wonky mental state which of course, makes my mental state worse.

Three nights straight I’ve perked up when the pain lessened and did the “I am gonna do this and this and that tomorrow, better get some sleep”…And for the third straight morning, I’ve wakened to feel the same shitty way. And it’s not lack of determination. I purposely went without melatonin last night so I wouldn’t be too groggy to wake up this morning. Unfortunatly, I was still awake at 2:30 a.m. Woke up at 3:30 a.m. 5 a.m. 7:30 a.m.

By my set upon ‘get moving’ alarm…I pulled the cover back over my head. Finally got up at 9:50, which with my kid at grandma’s, is indeed a rare treat. I said I’d pick her up around noon ‘after’ I ran the necessary errands. It’s 11:30 now and I’ve done nothing but get sucked into watching Special Victims Unit. Because sitting still and zoning out to a TV screen is the only thing I can do with minimal discomfort and exhaustion. That and the fact my sinuses are draining and my allergies have kicked in so I am drowning and gagging here.

I am pretty healthy person, physically. Rarely see a doctor, rarely get sick, rarely take even OTC pain killers unless I’ve tried riding out a migraine or cramps for hours to no avail. I’m not much of a talker (you’d never know that from the volume of my purge writing, would you>) so I don’t really complain to others no matter how bad I am feeling. I have had a couple of bad reactions to medications that resulted in locked up muscles so I could barely move and I kept plugging away.So I am not some whiney snowflake taken out by the first sign of physical discomfort. This PMS/PMDD shit is for real. It stems from my paternal grandmother’s side, she used to be bedridden for a week at a time, her symptoms were so bad. And this is a way from the depression years who was subservient to her husband and pushed like a work mule by him and her own parents from an early age. She was of hardy stock, taught not to complain and just get shit done. So when she confided to me and my sister that our monthly conditions are hereditary from her side and it took her down so far…I realized this isn’t whiney snowflake territory. Sadly, genetic validation doesn’t make it any easier to handle.

Point is, I’m not prone to voicing every minor or major complaint and expecting sympathy. If this impacts me enough to keep posting about it, it’s debilitating.

So I guess I will pick up my kid whenever unless they call and say otherwise. Forget errands, not going to happen today, either. I am not giving up, I am just…taking a step back. Maybe later my give a damn will propel me into action. Ibuprofen probably wouldn’t hurt but I despise taking more pills than need be, the psych meds are bad enough.

I read or heard someone describing depression as sinking in quicksand and fighting it makes it worse.And sometimes this is such a dead on description…Right now the quicksand is up to my waist and I’m gonna stop fighting it. It will release me later. Which I’ve been saying for days now but this is the monthly limbo dance.

I suck at the limbo.