Holy shit! I don't remember writing one single word of the last post. I guess I don't need much alcohol and meds to put myself on auto-freak. Amazing. Shameful! Stupid. It was like drunk dialing/texting/messaging only worse - totally out there in public. Well, that was one evening of my mixing meds and alcohol, which I don't really do that often because my spouse looks down upon me drinking. It's something I do rarely. He told me I was a "mean drunk" when I got drunk. I don't remember being mean at all. I don't remember much of anything about that evening.
I have looked at as many blogs that I could find dealing with mental health in one form or another, and I could hardly find any. The few I found had thousands of readers or at least "followers", so it made me feel like "what's the point of me writing if no one's going to read it and maybe leave a comment". I'm "following" a few blogs that I came across and left comments if I felt like it. That would seem to be the point of reading a blog in the first place. I have to have some kind of outlet for my insanity without dumping on the last few friends I have left. Blogging seemed to be the way to do it. I guess I'm just writing and sending my crap out there into the internet universe. Just another drop in a bucket, just another nobody.
Well, I guess some crap came out in my last blog about how miserable I am, and have been for such a long time. It's not easy when you're not getting support (asking or not) and trying to survive my current mess, and today is no exception. My spouse called in sick just because he felt like it. Again. So that throws my daily routine that I MUST have right out the window. Unfortunately, my spouse seems to think I just don't want him around. Not true at all. I just don't look forward to the effects that trashing my routine will have.
Since he was home yesterday too, I had to suffer the effects of my routine being "ruined". It was the worst anxiety/near psychotic episode I've had in years. I took some extra seroquel and clonazepam for it, and tried to remember some bad old disco song to sing to myself in my head over and over to make it all stop. Tv and messing around on the computer didn't work either. So I tried going to sleep. I curled up in a ball on the bed and was seeing and hearing things, even when my eyes were squeezed shut as tightly as I possible.
Eventually, I went into a half sleep sort of state for a few hours. Then I slept a bit.
I have a shrink that does therapy and one that does the meds, and at this point, neither seem to be working like they used to. I'm taking the cocktail, going to the shrink, but it seems my anxiety is either the same or worse. I don't know what to do. There's nothing I can do.
WARNING AT BOTTOM OF PAGE
This is a mental health/mental illness blog dealing with daily life with words that are real and raw, video, pics, and music chosen by one fucked-up kitty. I am diagnosed Bipolar, with (crippling) Anxiety Disorder, and seriously horrific PTSD.
Sometimes it's a real treat of Freedom of Speech and Crazy to let it out, and scream something out in public when you just lose it, and let the stress out of your sails in one quick go, unlike the "unlucky" majority. Nope. Can't say everything is bad 100% of the time. Now take your meds and get ready...
This blog is permanently under construction/destruction.