Archive for sleep disturbance

The 7 Day Disconnect Ends

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , on August 20, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Our internet is fixed finally. Sorta. It keeps going up and down and the tech told me it could just be the weather, we had a wicked thunderstorm this morning. But the phone is working and the internet half ass works, it is never down more than a minute or two. Annoying but better than what we for 7 days. NOTHING. Oh, I had my phone data but all my kid does is stream youtube so that would have burned 2 gigs. I allowed myself only to post prewritten posts to spare the data. (Geesh, it’s gone down 5 times since I started TRYING to write this, wtf Frontier????)

I’d like to say a 7 day net purge cured all my mental issues but alas, it did not. I am battling them more than ever. Waking up multiple times a night. Constant anxiety and paranoia. Hitting snooze in the morning because getting up is too hard. Barely the energy to refill ice cube trays and run minimum errands in the petri dish. I thought last year was my worst year but this year is quickly surpassing it, mental health wise. If this NP doesn’t put me on a double antidepressant regime before the seasonal depression sets in, I am probably going to end up hospitalized. No one can shut down this much without it biting them on the ass eventually.

To my credit today, I bathed and cooked a meal for my kid and myself. That was a battle. I still need to feed the outdoor cats again and take out trash and get her into a bath. Once again, I am looking forward to bedtime. Which won’t hold because I am almost out of melatonin with B6 and the only place to get it is where the donor works. That’s a powder keg situation for me, especially after Spook drew me a picture of a heart with a hole in it and I asked why and she said that was where her dad used to be until he left…Knowing how much he hurts her really enrages me. He thinks it’s all about him and me and that has NOTHING to do with it anymore. I was over that about 3 weeks after he bailed. But I never let go of my hope that at some point he’d grow the hell up and be a father to her. Proof I am borderline delusional, I guess. I know I shouldn’t let his presence psych me out. Hell, 6 weeks ago I was in a better mental state and went in there even though he was working. I don’t think the NP has a clue how fucked up things have gotten for me over the last couple of months. And her resistance to dual therapy kind of tells me she doesn’t much care about my progress, just impressing her overseer with how few meds she prescribes. That’s a sad statement about a psych care center, ain’t it? More worried about pleasing your boss than doing your patient some good? Not like I want more pills to take, but I do need to get out of this black haze that covers my every thought.

I guess I didn’t wear a good enough mask at the family thing Sunday night. My dad called and asked if I was pissed off cos I looked mad. Well, bees were buzzing near my eyelashes and bugs were eating me alive and I was itchy and covered in welts and it was hot which makes me sweat and my sweat makes me break out and itch more…I wasn’t thrilled about being there, no, but I tried to put on the fake mask and get through it. I suppose I failed. I asked my sister if I seemed mad to her and she said no and agreed it was just annoying with all the bugs and bees.

My mom has spinal stenosis and is waiting to hear back from the spinal surgeon. She is terrified she is going to end up paralyzed. I hope they can at least get her out of pain, she’s already talking about wanting to die rather than live in that much pain.

Which of course makes me feel shitty for worrying about my ‘head problems’ because according to the entire field, it’s just ‘behavioral health’ now, implying that behavior modification can somehow fix mental health disorders. That is what the term says to me. Whoever came up with it needs smacked with a rotting mackeral. It’s as bad as any stigma. Surprises my ass trash center isn’t using that title. Thankfully it’s still psychiatric health. Though the current regime may change that, especially since they merged with the big hospital from the state capitol. I think calling it behavioral is going to keep a lot of people from admitting they have a mental health problem and a lot of people will avoid getting help because they think it’s their fault their thoughts are distorted. Very dangerous. I admit some of my behaviors could be changed, it might make a minimal improvement, but for the most part…I am chemically imbalanced and no amount of behavior modification is going to change that or help it. Implying otherwise is downright cruel and ignorant.

Did anyone miss my long rants? I know, I posted a few, but this one is coming to you live, not hours after the fact. Live insanity for all to enjoy.

I used to say I don’t suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it. Now that I an inching closer to true insanity, I am not so sure about that.

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Babylon Files-weekend edition

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , on August 18, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Friday August 16th
Feeling high strung. Again. Hives, indecisiveness, inability to even feed myself when I am hungry. Saving grace is at least my current med regime does not make me sick if I take it without food. I have zero desire to revisit the lithium nausea and pukefest days.
Itchy ear again. Who is talking about me? Damn my mother for tainting my brain with idiotic superstitions. It’s fucked up that I embrace the number 13 and black cats without superstition but these idiotic nose or ear itches drive me paranoid.
I settled on microwave scrambled eggs with cheese for brunch. That took a lot of energy out of me, believe it or not. Making choices is exhausting.
I am so jumpy the cat knocked a box over and I jumped, literally. When I say I am sensitive to noise and easily startled, I am not being dramatic.
I feel like I am crawling out of my skin with anxiety. It borders on perpetual panic. My ONLY TRUE PEACE comes after 8 p.m. when I know I am free of phone call threats and potential visitors. The main threat being my father and his unannounced visits and lectures. The man is gonna drive me to the looney bin even if I haven’t heard from him in almost 5 days. He’s still pissed I defended my kid against his ‘idiot’ insult. Sucks to be him, the silent treatment forever would suit me fine.

3:18 p.m. and I am dying to rid myself of the torture device called a bra. The unannounced visits from family and my kid’s playmates are why I don’t even feel comfortable in my own home doing my own thing. I used to. Moving to Armpit under daddy gloom monger’s thumb changed that. One thing about winter. You’re under so many layers people don’t notice a lack of proper undergarments and you can skip them if it suits your mood. Tank tops…not so much. And yeah, he has said something about me revealing too much. My question is, why is my dad looking at my boobs? Eww.
Irrational thoughts, 101. Paranoia just to go around the corner to the bathroom off the kitchen. It’s out of my safe space but also, it seems every time I go to the bathroom, the phone rings, someone knocks, or Spook beckons. Amazing the tension and anxiety even have my bodily functions still, well, functioning.
Sat August 17
Little bits of happiness. I got an alert to and article about Motionless In White and Halestorm performing with Alice Cooper. I love all three of them. Even though my anxiety levels have made it damn near impossible to enjoy music, I enjoyed the article and the live clip. Lizzy Hale’s story about a slumber party where her music failed to impress her pop loving friends and it just…made me nostaligic. I was metal as fuck and few others were so I didn’t fit, that was for sure. And it didn’t matter because I loved the music that moved me, not just what was popular and everyone liked it only for that reason.
TV time
Been binging the hell out of NCIS:New Orleans since the internet went down. (7 fucking days for service, ridiculous FRONTIER!!!!) It amuses me because the actor who plays LaSalle was on American Gothic as a kid, Caleb. it’s funny seeing him all grown up now. It was cool when Paige Turco appeared as Pride’s wife. She fought to become “Caleb’s” guardian on Gothic.
I met Scott Bakula once. When I was waiting tables and he was in the state visiting his wife’s family. He was very nice about signing autographs on the back of the paper placemats the restaurant had. I was the only with the balls to approach him. Figured worst he could do would say go to hell. Prediagnosis and proper meds, I wasn’t so high strung and fearful of everything. Not exactly a ringing endorsement for how helpful getting ‘professional help’ was for me. Now I am scared of everything.
Not to wear out the TV talk but I gotta say one of the things I love most about CSI and NCIS franchises is how they have these small but like family close teams. It’s like family, only you choose the people you can tolerate. I am envious of that, as much as I do like to keep to myself. I always wanted to find my tribe. It could still happen, I suppose. Ya know, if I ever get an actual doctor who can get me off the panxiety train and on a dual antidepressant regime. The conservative nazis are NOT helping me. Hard to make friends when you’re terrified of people because your brain is sending red alerts 24=7 that everything is a viable threat.
Sunday August 18
Watching NCIS:New Orleans season 3 finale. My anxiety climbs with suspenseful shows with characters I like in peril. This was the reason I had to give up horror movies and soap operas. But I am too curious about the ending to let the anxiety stop me, even if it means sporting hives.
Also have a cookout at my dad’s tonight to celebrate my kid and her cousin’s birthdays. Not looking forward to more lectures by my dad about people without jobs. He doesn’t believe anyone is too disabled to work, it’s all character flaw. I get so sick of hearing it. These family shindigs would be much easier if I could go drunk and stay drunk but with a kid in tow, I can’t do that. So I will suffer through it, even if it throws off my evening soothing ritual of watching MASH. And they are starting it so late in the evening that it will throw off my kid’s bedtime, too. Being at the mercy of others is misery.
My stomach is rioting, my anxiety skyrocketing. Less than an hour til the family shindig and I am filled with dread. Frankly, I just don’t feel like talking to people or well, seeing people. My entire focus will be on choking down the food, ignoring the gut goblins, and surviving til we can gracefully bow out and come home for bedtime. I keep thinking things are going to get better, at least how I feel mentally, but it’s not happening so I have to question the Zoloft. Of course, I am only on week two at the higher dose and it’s not maxed out but my hopes for it helping with my sleep and anxiety are shot to hell. I woke up four different times last night, in panic attacks, barely able to breathe, thoughts racing.
It really gets old feeling beaten down by your own mind on a daily basis.

Babylon Files: Back To School

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , on August 16, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Something as insignificant as having my phone 2 feet away on the charger throws off my equilibrium. I am accustomed to the phone being less than 12 inches from my hand when I am in my safe space. I keep reaching for it and it isn’t there which gives me a moment of panic until I remind myself it’s across the room. I could use usb to charge it in front of me but that takes three times longer than electrical charging. Unfortunately there is only one outlet in my bedroom so I kind of have to work around that which means charging across the room. The tiniest things shake me up.
In a prior post I mentioned seeing my kid at the bus stop and having what seemed like a break from reality. Not exactly a break but an overwhelming thought that damn, I’ve got her to fifth grade on my own, but it’s been hard and what if I start flying apart with emotional and mental shrapnel because it doesn’t seem real that she is already ten…It was disconcerting and it’s happening more frequently, where reality seems to much to grasp and I feel hazy and scared I am going to crack my lids.
I put my bra on inside out. That is a testament to how altered my mind is at this time. Attention to detail gets lost in the mix. Least I figured it out before I finished dressing. Okay, I am still wearing the pants I slept in so I am half dressed but wearing a bra is huge for me. I will take the backwards win.
Some days forcing myself beyond the mail box is impossible. Sometimes it is very difficult but I am able to do it. I never know what is coming my way is the big problem. I can’t predict how high my anxiety level will be or why.
I don’t get people who get ‘high’ on caffeine, chocolate, sweets, etc. I can drink a 2 liter of soda and still not feel any difference. I wish it was that easy to boost my energy and focus.
Sometimes I curse the silly superstitions my mother instilled in me. Or installed. My nose itches, I hear her voice telling me someone is going to call or come by. My ear itches, someone is talking about me. Today my ears are super itchy which is making me super paranoid and anxious. It is illogical but I can’t shake it off. Back to anxious inertia in my space safe since leaving it heightens the sense of the other shoe dropping. This is what I mean when I say my thinking is very altered. I am always high strung and expecting the worst but this is extreme even for me.
Bio trackers…my god, tech is getting more terrifying by the day. You could ingest them unknowingly with any food really and then your body becomes the tracking device. Of course, this is off TV but I have little doubt it’s out there or in the works. TERRIFYING. And no, I don’t buy that bullshit ‘if you have nothing to hide, you have no reason to be paranoid.’ I am truly a very boring safe person but the idea that someone could use my own body to spy on me creeps me out.
My kid is home safely, she had a good day, it’s after 3 p.m. and yet…my anxiety continues to climb. I have zero idea why, it makes no sense, usually as the day nears 5 p.m. the anxiety is tamed a bit. But I have been feeling pretty high strung and frozen in place all day so I guess this is just one of those paranoia panic ridden days I can never predict. At least I can look forward to bedtime…4 hours and 12 minutes from now. Egad.
My kid had a good first day at school yay. I was worried.
My brother picked up my trash then came back by to tell me my trash cans had bugs in them. So now I am in charge of the outdoors, according to my father. Ass trash. I might make it to town tomorrow and get a big thing of bug killer for out back. That man is a stain on my soul. And my kid is still smarting from him calling her an idiot. A 72 year old man picking on a 10 year old and calling names while telling her to grow up. That’s fucking rich.
7:45 My spawn is ready for bed, yay, school is wearing her out. Now I can take my father stained soul, my depression and my anxiety to Fort Blankie and bliss out on sleep. Sadly, the consistency of sleeping through mostly since starting the Zoloft is wearing off and I am back to the sleep wake hellish cycle. At least I can get back to sleep easily. To wake four or five times briefly. WTF is wrong with my brain?

Scary

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , , on July 20, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

My brain has become a scary place for me. I just feel so low, so depressed, so utterly unhappy..But I can’t pinpoint anything truly making me feel so hopeless and dark. It is the very definition of clinical depression. That raise in Lamictal dose seems to have had the opposite effect and made me feel more depressed than I was.

Earlier, I was in such a dark place, I had this fucked up thought. If you were to ‘accidentally’ trip on some concrete steps and aim to land on your head hard enough, you’d never have to feel this way again.

This is NOT normal for me.

It is terrifying that it would even occur to me.

There is no intent, so not to worry. But the thoughts stirring in my mind are honestly scaring me. I honestly don’t know when my next pointless nurse appointment is, and it doesn’t matter because she has zero interest in helping me. Or that is how I perceive her ‘back to me’ detached manner with the only goal being having me on as few meds as possible. And THEIR policies are why I am taking two drugs for anxiety as opposed to the one that worked so damn well on its own.

I guess this could add to my depression but it’s more irritating, frustrating, and hopeless than it is depressing. I’ve pretty much had lackluster psych care my whole life. The good ones are very rare. Oh, the joy of rural life and being poor. Somehow this means I deserve subpar care from apathetic providers as opposed to someone with good insurance in an urban area who can get their dream doctor and make positive progress. I started going downhill during the raise in Abilify and the halving of Wellbutrin, all of which she did simultaneously, as well as increasing the Lamictal. Then the next appointment she refused to do more than one change and refused my input completely. She has played a part in making my summer very difficult and unhappy and there will be no consequences for her, those are all for me to pay for her ineptitude.

It would help if you could be honest with the providers without fear of being committed against your will or being deemed dangerous to your child just because your mind is in a scary dark place. I have no ill will toward my child. I feel I owe her an apology for being such a high strung depressed mess.

I keep telling myself I’ve been in this dark space many times, and the bad thoughts have occasionally wormed their way in. I just have to hold fast, stay strong, and not buy into the depressive distortions. This,too, shall pass. Just not fast enough to make me feel like I am not losing my mind.

At this point it’s such a useless cluttered dark place, I wonder if I’d be losing much of value.

But that is depression talking and I MUST REJECT whatever negative input it is giving me as best I can.

Which is easier said than done.

Especially now that I am in hormonal purgatory for two weeks and still pining for that dream work from home job since all my problems seem to be ‘out there;, trying to fit into a mold I simply do not. If I had physical disabilities, the world would be empathetic and break their backs to meet my abilities and not penalize me for my limitations. But nope, that’s not the way it is with mental illness. Sometimes even those who blog about mental health issues don’t come across as all that empathetic and supportive because they have stabilized and it’s sticking. Yet I remember these same people at their worst and remember how I extended myself to them even when I had little to give…The same is not being returned but by a couple of harcore supporters. I don’t know why I expected differently. Life is not fair, things are not always reciprocal, and while a large percentage of people with mental health diagnoses do have remission and reach stability…

I am not one of those lucky people and I guess people just get sick of hearing about it. For that I am truly sorry, I don’t like sounding like a broken record.

I don’t like living life like a broken record, but I don’t get the option of walking away because I am ‘too negative’.

I should be so lucky.

Grief

Posted in anxiety, depression, disability with tags , , , , , , , on July 7, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

One of kittens got under my car today and died. I didn’t know he was under there, I usually honk to spook them away. Today I didn’t because I swore I did a headcount and they were all on the step. I buried Tyketto and have spent an hour crying and grieving. I am just…shattered. It was an accident but this does not assauge my guilt. I feel like the most vile person on the planet right now and the day is young.

All I need is my dad calling me over and over and bitching at me. And they’re supposed to mow my lawn which means I mow, stepmonster sits on a rider, and they both scream at me how I am doing it wrong and it doesn’t look pretty. They mow their neighbor’s yard and never yell at her or guilt her.

My hatred for them grows by the day. My dream is to move Spook far away from this toxicity called my family. My mom babies her, my dad treats her like she’s a grown up and shouldn’t have tantrums and should be mowing lawns.

This day sucks. I just want to feel nothing and silently grieve for my cat and flog myself with guilt.

And I know what my dad will say. “No use crying, it’s done and you have too many cats anyway.” Yes, he has said that many times when we’ve lost a cat.

He’s a monster. And his woman is the bride of the fucking monster, minus the legal status.

Just let me grieve.

But so I can’t be accused of not trying, I did fill out an application on line for sandwich artist. Those personality tests are a bitch because I can’t say people don’t get offended by the things I say because they do. But it’s not like I’d do it in a paid work position, ffs. If I want to call my dad a fucking asshole, well, that’s our family dynamic.I should lie, I know. Personality tests are bullshit anyway. If they wanted to truly know you, they’d give you situations and ask you to write a paragraph explaining how you would handle it within the company rules and respect and satisfaction for the customer.

Okay, the tears are coming again. I don’t want to drip on the laptop.

The Witching Bitching Hour

Posted in insomnia with tags , , , , on July 6, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

It’s now after 3 a.m. I’ve been awake since 1:40. Prior to that, I woke pretty much every hour on the hour. I had hoped going off Abilify would keep my two night good sleep streak going but alas, it has not. I am feeling tired, frustrated, and already dreading the day. This interrupted sleep thing exhausts the body and mind. To the point that I didn’t even hit one yard sale this weekend, and I can’t even muster the enthusiasm to shop on line for my kid’s birthday and school clothes. It’s like something just sucked the life out of me. Could it be NOT GETTING PROPER SLEEP?

Unless you have stone cold insomnia and stay up for days on end, the psych pros don’t seem to put much stock in other sleep disorders. It’s aggravating because waking every hour or two and never sleeping through, over the last 3 years, has taken more of a toll on me than I like to admit. In my teens and twenties I could run on little sleep and feel fine. Now…And it doesn’t help that the anxiety and depression are so unbearable, sleep is my one respite. To have it denied unless I take melatonin and benadryl to fall asleep, then can’t remain asleep…demoralizing comes to mind.

So instead of tossing and turning I am sitting up with the lamp on and I am going to browse for her clothes and Minecraft stuff she wants. Bloody hell, Minecraft stuff is expensive. I don’t suppose it matters what I do, my mom and sister will always outdo me. Like it’s some sick competition of who spends the most loves her the most. August is gonna be a trying month between her birthday, their shenanigans, and the start of school. I dread it every year. I dared to speak up and it turned into a damn family war so now I just defer and let mom and sis take over. I’m not a good party planner, anyway.

I can’t even organize my socks and underwear properly, let alone a birthday party. Mental chaos simply won’t allow it. Nor will it allow me to sleep well.

3 years of this shit. One day it’s going to drive me over the edge. The body and mind need proper rest and I am not getting it. It’s like I am behind before I start. The meds can’t make me well rested and energetic, only sleep can do that. Man, in my teens and twenties it was all ‘I can sleep when I’m dead.’ Now mid forties, it’s ‘Oh, god, is it bedtime yet, my brain hurts…”

Cold Rain and Brain Drain

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , on May 21, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Here it is, 3:27 a.m. and I’m awake, have been for an hour now. The clock is ticking. Trains are roaring by. The icy rain is pounding against the metal air conditioner unit in the window. It’s 48 degrees and a dampness in the air has me wanting to do nothing more than curl up under the covers and sleep. But I don’t dare take more melatonin because I have to be up by 8 to call the school and tell them Spook will be late. Then I have to get us both ready and I am NOT getting into a bath when the house is this damn cold. My hair is gross so I thought I could just wash it in the sink but again, it’s so cold, I feel it in my bones and in my veins, coursing through me head to toe as if transfused with ice water. The pressure is on. My kid’s doc appt is 9:45 but we have to be there by 9:30. Then I have that job interview scheduled for 11 a.m. so I need a bunch of stuff to go off without a hitch so I can get her back to school and make my interview on time. I also have to make sure I look presentable but when it’s cold like this and all my warm clothes are packed away (it was 90 last week, I thought we finally had hit spring) I don’t want to leave my warm jammies. I don’t care if I get the job.

Because this is exhaustion and depression and it will pass by Thursday once the temps rise back up but right now, it may as well be dead of winter. My mental states are that fragile when connected to the weather. I fight it but it doesn’t do a bit of good. And this job has all sorts of training and involves going to public places which of course, with my fear of public places and people, probably would be worse for my mental health. Not to mention 14 other candidates being interviewed and they are still running the help wanted ads and I’ve that old charge to bite me on the ass and it’s religiously affiliated and I don’t exactly scream Christian in my darkened identity…

If I could have just slept through the night, woke with the alarm, it might have been different.

But since I woke up in the middle of the night, the weather is awful, and I am in a time crunch plus racking up mileage and using gas in the car going 80 miles in one day…It’s overwhelming me. When overwhelmed my instinct is to retreat, hide, avoid. I am fighting that urge because even if I don’t have a shot at the job, every interview is practice and gives me a chance to see where I excelled and where I need work in my interviewee skills…

Mainly, I am ready to get it all over with so I can come home and maybe get an hour nap in before Spook gets back from school. Not that I can sleep during daylight, at least not since the season changed.

I think it’s Fort Blankie time, I am freezing. Is it so wrong to want some bloody warmth when it aids so drastically in my mental state being more positive? Turning on the furnace would not help, plus the pilot light is out and I am currently back in my ‘terror of the basement’ mindset. I’m also hormonal and hope I don’t start bawling in public for no reason or worse, get hypo manic aggro.

I am so sick of how many suns, moons, and stars that have to align for me to be in a good mental state and be high functioning. And I don’t think I can take another cold fall and winter here, it;s killing me, mentally at least. But I continue to be trapped like an inmate, my freedom hinging not on a parole board but on the financial means to flee.

Depressing.