Archive for sleep disturbance

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.

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Window Of Opportunity

Posted in insomnia with tags , , , , on May 20, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

As I lie here in bed writing this on my phone,I am bleary eyed and tired. Yet my mind will not stop churning. I missed my window of opportunity earlier when my benadryl-melatonin cocktail started to kick in. I was almost out but my kid woke with yet another ailment and griped at me so that upset me and I was worried about her so…no sleep for me. Three hours later and the secondary mela-dryl ( new hybrid term) dose is doing nothing.

Sleep should not be this difficult to get. It is maddening and I need my brain to STOP. But it will not cooperate.

My mother thinks insomnia is a choice or byproduct of feeling guilty. Frankly,it has been my default off and on my whole life. Even as a kid it would take an hour or more to calm my mind and nod off.

Now I have the clock ticking til I need to be functional mom again so it stresses me out the later it gets. That makes sleep even more impossible. I just have to run myself down til I conk out unintentionally.

How I wish I could just climb into bed,turn on my sound machine,and drift off quickly and stay asleep just 5 straight hours.

Pegacorn. Never gonna happen. I would say a ghoul can dream but that would bloody well require me to be able to sleep. Grrrrr.

Mommy Sneerest and YMCA

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , on May 19, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

My mom was in prime form today. Her dementia has gotten worse and with the potential cancer lump lurking, she was locked and loaded for nastiness. All of it aimed my way, geared toward putting me down for ‘having that disorder’ and ‘taking too many pills’. It’s almost like my being bipolar and taking medication threatens her, otherwise, why would she take it personally? Just because she decided depression is normal life and chose not to do therapy or meds, the rest of us should do so as well and if we don’t…hell hath no fury like Morgue’s Mom. Who over the years earned nicknames like Hateful McNasty, Bearilla, and Pit Viper. Because she is mean just to be mean and it’s only gotten worse with the dementia. Then she forgets she was mean and everyone is lying about her or exaggerating. I honestly don’t know how my sister deals with living with her, I’d already be in jail for trying to throttle her. I don’t have patience, it’s a curse.

The wedding was beautiful, if a little haphazardly put together. It did NOT rain. I actually did tear up which with two mood stabilizers, I did not think was possible and yet…I maintain I must be hormonal because honestly, it is the only time I truly tear up, I truly am THAT medicated. There were no fights, no drama, the wedding went off without a hitch. I was accused of being dressed for a funeral, which isn’t shocking. I don’t know why people think black is only for funerals but it happens to be 98% of what I own. I wore a light gray shirt the other day and all it did was draw attention to my middle where I carry most of my weight so I like the way black hides my not so sexy curves. Fat-o-flage, I call it.

The whole time we were there, I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t stop thinking about when are these mandatory dances going to be over, when are they gonna get that cake served, when will they finally open the bloody gifts…I sometimes wonder if my constant need to be home is more a combination of anxiety and A.D.D. Because I just can’t get absorbed in things. I become restless, distracted, and my mind just wants to go home. Not because anything is waiting at home but because here I do have things to help me be half focused.

My kid danced up a storm. I did not. Without some darkness and a drink or two, especially with a bunch of prissy people I don’t know, yeah, I wasn’t feeling it. But I was helping her change from her flower girl dress in the bathroom when they plated “YMCA” and I couldn’t help myself…I started singing “It’s fun to kill S-T-A-N…” from the movie Stan Helsing. Awesome parody. May have been the only true smile I had on my face all day. Not that I wasn’t happy for my nephew, it is just…me trying to fit into a world I simply can’t connect with does not nourish my soul. Stan Helsing and that rendition of YMCA nourish my soul and tickle my funny bone. It starts at 46 seconds.

My dad did buy me a sandwich afterward because they always go out to eat and I just happened to be riding with them. Woohoo, a sammich I didn’t have to cook. Very nourishing.

Some pics I took, it wasn’t very sunny out so the lighting is crap.

Sleep Is The New Orgasm

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

Inappropriate title, you say? Meh.

I sent my kid off to her grandmother’s around 4:30 today and shortly after, I zonked out. I slept until 8:40 p.m. I was exhausted because in spite of the phones being at my bedside…I didn’t hear either of them ring when my dad called. It makes sense, though, since I’ve been running at a sleep deficit for so long. Sometimes, if I know Spook is safe and I am ‘off mom duty’, I can sleep quite well. It’s still usually in 3-5 hour increments but I sleep hard and well, for the most part. It doesn’t keep me down, I’m still a joke in a box but…

I needed the sleep after 3 nights straight of mostly being awake and only cat napping.

The sad fact is, at 46 and with a dating pool I would need a hazmat suit to venture into, my libido is quashed by meds and sheer lack of intellectual stimulation.

So getting good sleep is my new orgasm and I want multiples.

Tomorrow is my nephew’s wedding. I guess my stepmonster already made a scene and pissed everyone off at the rehearsal dinner tonight. The bride to be’s ‘nana’ is a wealthy uppity type and we are, well, hillbilly-ish white trash with some class. Mostly, we tell it like it is and a lot of fussbudgety people do not like that. I just want to go and get it over with. I wish my nephew and his bride the best, truly but if it stresses me out, I need it to be done with.

And make no mistake how much it stresses me out. I know where the shindig and all is going to be, but I can’t handle traffic in town anymore and so I asked to ride with my dad and stepmonster. THAT is how fucking far down I’ve sank since the benzo nazis took my Xanax. While buspar seems to dull the generalized constant anxiety a bit, the panic attacks I’ve had since they cut my Xanax dose 75%, I can barely bring myself to leave the house beyond Armpitopia’s minimart. Driving in town is harrowing and fills me with terror. Forget socializing. If I can’t drink and I have no sane pills in the strength I need…Funny how the edict of ONE person who has never met me has fucked up my functionality so drastically. I don’t know how she sleeps at night.

Final note- Rest In Peace, Grumpy Cat. 7 years is far too short a time for the joy you brought many of us.

However…
I nominate my Godsmack to be the new internet cat meme. She lives in a dollhouse, bathes her human, plays fetch, and is utterly an It Girl Kitty.

Cremated Uncured Bacon, A Bath, And A Literal Cat Nap

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

I despise burned bacon. I do not even like it crisp. So starting my Thursday with a wasted package of bacon turned blackened dog chew toy tough sucked. Plus side, uncured bacon does not taste that much different than other bacon. I managed to feed myself before night time, that’s a rarity. I was disappointed, though, because I watched it closely and checked it every 5 minutes but still, my ass trash ‘too old to even have numerical thermostat’ oven ruined it. Even the cats rejected it.

I bathed, that time of the week, ha ha ha. I am actually bathing 2, 3 times a week now since Abilify/season changes. It’s still not ideal but it’s improvement. Though the sense of accomplishment was accompanied by the thought, “Ugh, fuck, I’m just gonna have to do this again Saturday before the wedding debacle.”

I suffered through restless mind syndrome some more, too tired to even get properly sleepy. Then I did get properly sleepy so I curled up in bed and before I knew it, I’d nodded off with two kittens on either side of me and one asleep on my leg. The literal and proverbial cat nap. Waking up and trying not to roll onto them and get up without crushing them was like a geriatric game of Twister.

I even got a bit of a giggle out of the day when putting the spawn into the bath. She wanted to shave her legs since she is wearing a dress as flower girl for the wedding Saturday without tights. As I supervised her, she asked me, “Do you have to comb your leg hair if you don’t shave and it grows long?” Ermagod, that made me laugh, hard. She is so bloody funny without meaning to be. Those are the mom moments that balance out all the hellish battles, the tantrums, the mood swings, the fussing, the hypochondria…She then asked me why men don’t shave under their arms and shave their legs and I told her because society is misogynostic on such matters though some men, like cyclists and swimmers, do shave their body hair. Personally, I think all men should shave to an extent but there are some women who dig the Yetti thing. Eww.
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2:11 a.m. Friday 5/17

I’ve been up since 11 p.m. I’m just doing catnaps now, it seems, so my days feel like they are neverending. But until I am good and sleepy and relaxed, trying to force it stresses me out worse and makes it more impossible. I would love 7 solid hours of sleep. I should have gotten it as I took 10 mg melatonin, 0.5 xanax, 50 mg Atarax and 100 Benadryl. If that doesn’t put you down and keep you down, well, it certainly attests to it being a sleep disorder as opposed to some personality issue. And when I get soooo tired and sooo sleepy that I nod off without meaning to…

That is a beautiful headspace. Beautiful also is waking up and feeling slightly recharged rather than like I’m only a third way through the marathon.

Today is grocery day. Aside from Jonesing for a fountain Dr. Pepper and take and bake pizza, I have no major enthusiasm for a trip to town. My kid will be spending the night in town with my sister so they can gussy her up for the murder, er, wedding, Sat morning.

I’ve been wondering if everyone’s been yapping about, “Oh, I hope Niki doesn’t wear anything to weird.” Because yes, a t-shirt and leggings is totally weird. I do love being underestimated, though. If they assume I am not bright enough to discern appropriate clothing then they’ve earned the disdain with which I view them. I even printed out a mantra for my wall reminding me they have the self awareness of an empty chair and I need to stop giving them permission to make me feel inferior. I’ll let you know if it cures me, kinda like when god gives you lemons but…

I saw that on a t-shirt before my mom’s bad mammogram came back but it still applies. Optimism does not cure illness.

I am gonna try to pawn some DVDs today so I can buy a bag of cat food. There’s only one shop though and he pays like a quarter a disc so even my 16 disc Forenisc Files set won’t get me too far IF he’d even buy it. My dad asked me why I don’t sell my electronics. Hmm, well, because they’re so old and outdated, they are literally worth more to keep than try and get a dollar value out of.

I’d like to ask why I can’t manage a successful fundraiser to get my kid her vacation and get my own ebay storefront going, using all the loot I find secondhand. I think I could rock that casbah but they don’t give small business loans for it and they wouldn’t give me a loan anyway as my credit score more resembles a euphamism for the daily time to get high. The more I think about it, though, the more the ebay thing appeals to me. I’m running into walls and bleeding out trying to fit into society’s cookie cutter system and that one mistake keeps fucking me over…Being my own boss would be about perfect. I have the retail skills. I know I could make a go of it if I could keep the monthly bills paid and focus solely on the business. That is my dream, people. To sell shit on ebay.

You say pathetic, I say desperate not to be a cog in a wheel that does not even want me…

It’s 2:30 a.m., I took another slow cocktail of antihistamine and melatonin but my mind is not slowing down an iota and sleep seems like a far away mirage. However, the cats napping on my bed are very real. Someone may as well lay in it and sleep.

I sure as hell ain’t able to do it.

Hey, Dude, Where’s My Motivation?

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

Was up three times between 9 p.m. and 4 a.m. After waking at 4, I could not get back to sleep so I’ve been running since then. I tried to nap with melatonin assistance but that has been a bucket of fail and it’s frustrating me. I’ve lightened my hair to prep for the red rinse I’m using for the wedding (I am amazed at the things I find in the bathroom cupboard that I forgot I bought long ago). My hair is still wet 3 hours later and I don’t wanna drag out the hair dryer plus it already looks fried. I did managed to cook some bacon and eggs and feed myself. Other than that…I’ve just been stewing in my own impotence, unable to work up the energy to do anything because my brain is still yearning for ‘the rest of’ the sleep it needs.

This is where your nights run into your days and it sets your entire equilibrium off balance. On top of that, I am watching a show that claims many of us become ‘addicted’ to our mental illnesses because it frees us of responsibility for our lives turning out shitty or whatever. I don’t see that in myself because I am still fighting so hard to get back on my feet and get my disorders stabilized. I WANT a full, happy life. But is living in denial of the huge impact my disorders have on my daily functioning any better than being ‘addicted to’ the disorder?

And the crazy thing is, accepting you have these disorders is not the same as clinging to them and it does NOT spare you an iota of responsibility. If anything, it makes you take on more than your fair share because you know you are the primary problem and no one can fix that, not even you. Your behavior can change, but the patterns and symptoms of the disorders are always going to be the same, you can only crank down the volume on them at times.

I get bent when I see serious disorders being trivialized that way.

I can’t focus for shit today and I swear it’s ADD, no bloody joke. Only two out of my stable of shrinks have agreed that I have it, but the proof for me was when I was on Focalin and the symtoms went away and I became calmer, laser focused, and could finish reading a book or other task without forgetting or getting off track by multiple distractions. My kingdom to read a damn book again. I have tried but…

This is truly me.

I just want a hour long power nap but my brain is on hyperdrive. Nothing productive or even pleasant, just round and round about all the problems I am facing and it’s got me wanting a Xanax the size of a semi truck hubcap.

I think I officially qualify now to join social media. I took a picture of food I cooked last night.

Boboli crust, dollar pizza sauce, cheddar and mozarella, pepperoni and pineapple chunks layered on. It would have been more awesome if my ancient -does not even have a temperature setting’ oven didn’t overcook everthing no matter how much I keep an eye on it.

And check out Spook’s youtube channel, please. Give her a like or comment, she needs a win. Be the decent human beings I know you can be if everyone takes a break from snapping pictures of their food and feeding their virtual pegacorns virtual candy.

My channel is here. Like me or don’t, I am apathetic.

Interrupted Consciousness, Bridezillas, and SPLAT!

Posted in anxiety disorders, bipolar depression, depression with tags , , , , , , on May 16, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I am just burning up the DSM today coming up with new disorders. Restless mind syndrome, now as opposed to interrupted sleep, I have decided sleep is my normal default so technically, it’s the waking up over and over that is the disorder.

Splat started earlier after I learned of my mom’s bad mammogram and the waiting period they stuck her with. I thought my own father might be able to work up an iota of empathy as he was married to her 28 years and no one deserves cancer even if they were a bankrupting spouse. Nope. Then his gf got involved and said oh, three weeks isn’t time for it to spread to the lymph nodes, she has plenty of time, she will be okay…Now lets talk about my low iron and how I have to get an upper GI series and a colonoscopy…SERIOUSLY? You want to put that up against potential breast cancer in a 70 year old woman whose entire family died from cancer?????? How narcissistic can one woman be?

So splat imploded then exploded and now I am back to feeling truly demoralized, defeated, depleted, and wait, because it’s only 10 p.m.

I got Bridezilla texting me and saying I gotta get my kid white or purple dress shoes by Saturday for HER wedding. I told her I have NO money. None. Zero. I just got hit with another power bill that was 45% of my income and my rent was the other 50% so now my water is gonna get turned off. So yeah, shoe money, sure, let me pull that out of my ass. I will be so glad when this fucking wedding is over. I knew it would end up being my financial problem, that was only ever the reason I didn’t want Spook involved in the fiasco. “But they’re just twenty dollars at Wal-Mart” says the 20 something with no kids of her own whose rent is only $80 a month. Twenty bucks is a LOT for me. I need cat food, I will need even more gas now since I have to make 3 trips to town over this stupid wedding, then next week Spook has a doc appointment, then I have to go back for a job interview.

I feel like my brain is trying to claw its way out of my head.

Anyone want to buy a 16 disc collection of the best of Forensic Files? Right now, it’s about the only thing I have worth around $40 on ebay. Discs are in great shape, bought new, barely used, cos I switched to digital files.

I.want.to.scream.and.smash.things.

But I am too tired and my stomach is rioting from stress and my back is hurting from sitting up to write for so long. Scumbag brain is on hyperdrive, and not in a good way. This is a perfect storm brewing and I am terrified someone is going to say the wrong thing come wedding day and I am gonna burn a dozen bridges when I snap.

This is SPLAT. This is what follows a brief hypomanic bout. Irritation, anger, defeat, zero motivation, hopelessness, and right back down the rabbit hole. We’re all mad here, said the cat.

It’s a ‘I wanna drink bleach’ kind of night and I don’t even have any bleach.

Ass Trash.