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.

Friday, January 31, 2014

I Can't Get This Shit Out of My Head





This pretty much sums up how I feel and what's coming. I have no control other than to hop a train. I want the daytime to myself again.

Dread Again Over V-Day and "Bitching"

Edit: I fucking hate this post! I hate it! Edit: Except the video, of course.


While I'm sitting here under the S.A.D. lamp, thinking most normal folks are all looking forward to V-Day - at least the women -I know that mine is just going to be shit. I'm dreading it like fuck. It's not something I'm bringing down upon myself with negative thoughts or interactions with the spouse, it's just that I feel that all he cares about right now is himself. He claims to be broke, yet says he could just pay the balance of his car loan off in one go. He's got plenty of money saved up in the bank. Sure he's laid off, but he knows that he's going back to work in another week, but he refuses to pay extra rent (only $100). He normally does these days, even though he brings in a shitload more money than I do with my SSDI.

On the way to my shrink, I mentioned that I sent the rent out. That's when he told me he wasn't going to pay extra, because he's not working, but he was sure proud to announce that he was going to get $500 a week on unemployment the other day. Poor guy.

I have noticed since xmas that he has bought more and more things than I can even count. Almost every day, he receives some sort of package, buying things for himself daily. Yet he claims he can't pay an extra $100 on rent, which would help me out with shrink and meds costs. He even gets upset when I casually and innocuously use the term "shit" as in "here's some more shit for you", when I bring back the mail from the mailboxes down the hall or from the door.

He also made that ridiculous claim that he's going to stop smoking. Cold turkey, of course. He smokes about a pack a day. He even smoked all the packs of smokes that he "gave" to me as a gift from his trip back from over the great pond, and never replaced them.

Yesterday, he complained about dishes in the sink, most of which he had used, as if I'm supposed to keep the kitchen clean? He was angry and said he wanted to cook, but couldn't even get in the sink. So he ended up washing a few dishes. Big deal. He's not paying more rent, so he can do dishes too, is what I was thinking to myself. I don't give a fuck if he likes it or not.

This morning after I got up at 6, when my alarm goes off, I shut the bedroom door and got dressed for the treadmill. I went about things in a normal way, as if no one was asleep, because he never makes an effort to do things quietly when he gets up and I'm still in bed. That is the reason now that I am no longer in bed when he gets up. The noise he makes has forced me to get up before him, whether he works or not, fucking with my sleep, worrying about the time, making me look at the clock several times during the night.

Every morning, he's in a pissy mood for the first half hour at least. He calls it "waking up". When the alarm goes off, I wake up, grab my clothes, get out of the bedroom, shut the door, make coffee, etc. What I'm trying to say is when you're awake, you're fucking awake. It's not license to act like a man morning bitch just because you're that way in the mornings. I never wake up in a shitty mood. I just wake up like a robot, I do what I gotta do. I don't act like a baby morning bitch. Unfortunately, most of the men I have been with have been like this, but I have to say that he might be the worst, if memory serves.
 
So why am I still married, you may ask? At the moment, I sure can't afford to move and live alone. I just try to look forward to my alone time when he is working, no matter how much he complains about having to work. He says he wants to get laid off. He's started to call in "sick" more often for laziness. His work ethic has never been like an american work ethic of our (probably not you) generation. He's used to getting laid off for months, even taking a year off and traveling here and there, but that's all in the past. In this country, bitch, you gotta work.

Except for those of us that can't but wish they could, like me. I'm too fucked up: bipolar, PTSD, BPD, crippling anxiety, and gawd knows what else that isn't diagnosed. It's all jumbled into one big mess.

Is it so stupid, horrible, and selfish to just want a bottle of decent champagne and some good chocolates to share? Do I just have to buy them myself? If I do, I'm going to get most of that fucking champagne, motherfucker. I always get my feelings hurt on V-Day, even if I tell myself I expect nothing. I guess I'm just fucking lying to myself. I just want to be shown a little love. Who doesn't?

And here's thee song about a broken heart:

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

That Miserable V-Day



I can already feel that valentine's day is going to turn to shit, because it's starting now. I wish I could leave town alone during that time. Just take off and run - or take a train. I'm super disgusted with and pissed off at my spouse for being cheap and rude today.

I just want to see my daughter graduate. He can fuck himself if he continues to act like such a child.

I may be forced to leave the apartment, no matter how much it will freak me out due to crippling anxiety, just to get away from the spouse. I can watch tv on my phone at some coffee shop.

Fuck knows.


But I'm Not S.A.D.

This morning I pulled up my exercise chart, SuperBetter page, email pages, and checked email first. Google had a hayday tossing almost all political or conservation type emails into the spam bucket. Could it be something to do with Obama speaking last night? Hmm, Google? Go ahead and answer since you're reading this. Just quit sending me AARP shit, even though it arrives in spam. I'm not that fucking old!

A local Fox news channel this morning made mention about the overspending by the queen of england and played a bit of the Sex Pistols' "God Save The Queen". Just another testament of their stupidity, making it  hilarious to me, though. They also played U2's "Pride". Days late and dollars short. Morons. TV "news" is awful. I just wanted a weather report. News I can find all over the internet. So this is what made me laugh about their fuck-up:

"God Save The Queen"


God save the queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
Potential H-bomb

God save the queen
She ain't no human being
There is no future
In England's dreaming

Don't be told what you want
Don't be told what you need
There's no future, no future,
No future for you

God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves

God save the queen
'Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems

Oh God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh Lord God have mercy
All crimes are paid

When there's no future
How can there be sin
We're the flowers in the dustbin
We're the poison in your human machine
We're the future, your future

God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves

God save the queen
We mean it man
And there is no future
In England's dreaming

No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future,
No future for me

No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future
For you

Of course they silenced the "the fascist regime" part, and the rest of the song. Bummer. But who doesn't know the rest of the words.

I did my time under/by the S.A.D. lamp, even though I don't think I have it. I did it because my psychiatrist (that gives me meds) suggested to try it. It makes me feel like my face is going to burn up, as well as do weird things to my scalp. I just want to cover my face when I use it, but I try not to. I don't know how long I've been doing it regularly, so I can't say whether it's had any effect or not, apart from the side effects.

I was never diagnosed with S.A.D., but too many other things that drag me down with crippling anxiety and depression, which I'm facing this morning because I have a therapist appointment. Will I be able to take the bus, or will I ask for a ride, which I hate, from my spouse, who is laid off at the moment. Fuck. I "want" to take the bus, but it's impossible to predict whether I can or not, regardless of the fact that the appointment is about 2 hours away. I give myself a whole hour to get ready to go so that I won't get stressed out from being in a hurry. That doesn't help all that much anymore either. So, I'm not sad, but instead I'm depressed, pissed off, frustrated, anxious, and a bunch of other shit I don't want to dig up and slap a name on. I'm not happy that I feel like I'm getting no support or cheering on by my damn spouse. That makes me want to get away from him. Hopefully I can use that awful feeling and turn it into something positive for me. Fuck 'em.




Monday, January 27, 2014

"Quest": Drop out of Bipolar In Order Group

I had to drop out of the group "Bipolar IN Order. Bipolar Without Disorder", not that I was participating much anyway.

This is their line: "This community is dedicated to being high-functioning bipolar instead of trying to make it go away." Who the fuck wants that kind of pressure?! Fuck that, man, I got too much other shit going on and don't know what is causing what, so I want all that shit to go away. I have been told, though that BP NOS is my #1 Dx. Whoopee. Fuck it all. :)



This is Jaguar Jones, my superhero Avatar's name for the SuperBetter game. Gnarly fangs, eh? I go play SB now and do stuff because things are on my list of "quests". Treadmill is the toughest, but I'm gonna make it!

Play SuperBetter, Feel at Least a Little Better, Trust Me!



I don't know if I've written about this game before (SuperBetter), but like the creator, in the video above, it's helping me not want to kill myself. And as you know, to someone with BP, PTSD, BPD, and anxiety is a BIG fucking deal. It's given me some energy and mental strength that I forgot that I had. I really really recommend looking at it and giving it a try. You can make your "quests" as difficult as "getting out of bed" (which can be hell at times) to walking 5mi, or whatever you want to make it. You can tailor your "quests", "power ups", ways to earn points and get better. Boost your willpower. Create your own Secret Identity/superhero avatar with pic! You can connect with others that are playing too as "Allies". If you dare, you can post completed quests to FB. There's a ton of possibilities for this game. I told one of my shrinks about it last week, and he was blown away by the idea and checked it out.

Please watch at least the first 10 minutes of the video, even though it sounds like a lot. It's better than spending 10 minutes sitting and thinking about the "s" word.

There is no current android app, but you can still play it on your computer if you don't have an iphone.

I've been playing the game for a couple of weeks on my laptop so far and am still trying to get the hang of things, and it's been good for me. I've tried making lists of things to do to keep me busy, but that never worked in the past. This is something way different and rewarding, getting me through the worst time of the month. If anybody decides to play and needs an ally, contact me, and I would be happy to play along with another superhero.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Calm. The. Fuck. Down.

One minute everything seems hunky dory, the next, it's funky poor-y. Fucking anxiety. It is a fact that I pretty much live thinking consciously/unconsciously that I have to do everything as fast as I possibly can, like the Energizer Bunny on wicked coke and a portable caffeine IV. I reminded myself of that as soon as I was done washing up and getting dressed in the bathroom. Then I went into the bedroom and told my spouse the same shit, and that there is absolutely no fucking reason why I should be in a rush about anything! I'm on disability! I can't work! I don't have something that needs taking care of 24/7 FFS. As soon as I was done mentioning it, I let myself cry a tear or two and walk away. I don't like to let myself cry ever, if I can help it.

Fuck this moody shit! Fuck this hormonal hell! Fuck this manic/depressed shit! Yummy is this cinnamon graham cracker!

I do have one really good thing to be giving myself a pat on the back for (or cinnamon graham cracker), and that is getting on the treadmill again! And on a Sunday, of all days, after getting a wake-up paw poke in the face from the cat at 5ish. I just need to calm my ass down and try not to overdo it on the clonopin (addictive) and Seroquel.

Ok, now I have to find something to post with this...

Google and Your Already Paranoid Brain



Yeah, use their search engine and the products you were looking at will magically show up on most of the other websites you go to, even ones you have to use a password to get into, making you more paranoid than you already are. And of course the old news that your email is being scanned for ads as well. I get tired of shit I looked at already. I don't fucking want to see it anymore And what's the point of this silly ad, knowing all the above and after the NSA was exposed?

2 people spied on you - www .webshieldonline .com - Free tool that shows you who's spying on you!

Two people? Shit, fucker, get in line. Slowpoke. I'll tell you who's the tool.

And now I have to stop because the side effect from meds of nausea is getting to me.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Justice For Kelly Thomas, Mentally Ill Man Murdered By Police

Re:  Kelly Thomas case, there is a Facebook page and petition on it. You can get there by clicking here.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Early to Bed, Early to Rise Makes a Crazy Woman Just Plain Crazy

                                                                         Quetzal

 
No video today. Sore throat, sore back, and lukewarm tea is all I have going on here.

I don't really have much to say apart from the fact that it saddens me when I am reminded how other people are suffering too, from depression, crippling anxiety, suicidal ideation...

I spent most of the afternoon sleeping, as I was knocked out by some Seroquel.

I think what's kept me alive for the past week or so is a "game" called SuperBetter. Here is a bit more about it. It was created by a woman that was suicidal, to save her own life. It got me back on the treadmill, feeling better about little things that are a big job to me like getting dressed, exercising, taking a shower, etc, though I'm still a shut-in. I recommend it, to at least try it. I was suicidal when I started, and now I'm not. I'm not thrilled about life, but I feel like I have accomplished some little things towards my goal of "not wanting to shoot myself in the head and live and be happy".

Tomorrow I have to go to the psychologist, which I'm not looking forward to, but I'm almost looking forward to leaving his office and going home alone on the bus with my ipod and sunglasses, my  head empty of  the emotional dump I will have taken on the guy. Emotional dump and run, and the green tea is free. Well, included in the price that Medicare Part B doesn't pay. I will feel alone, but alone and free. My husband will be sitting around at home. He's been laid off from work.

I already miss being alone during the day, no matter how isolated I feel sometimes, at least I can do it privately. That means, of course, that I feel alone when my husband is around. Yeah, shitty marriage. Don't want to go there now. "Supenatural" is on.

My sleep sucks ass, but at least for the first few hours, I'm good. I spray perfume in my hair before I go to bed for my own kind of "aromatherapy". I get to sleep even faster with that, though I do take 600mgs of Seroquel. Whatever works, right?

Monday, January 20, 2014

Fucking Dump

I fucking hate email sometimes. I just can't bear to write any more shit about how depressed, anxious, suicidal, miserable, etc I've been feeling. I just don't want to take the ol' emotional dump on someone. Except for maybe the psychologist... then again I think what I say to him when I express emotions just goes in one ear and out his ass. Well, that's what he's getting a big fucking serving of on Wednesday.

MLK JR Day.



I remember when this came out. And I remember Trayvon Martin. I remember Rodney King. I remember Anita Hill.

Friday, January 17, 2014

RIP: Kelly Thomas, Schizophrenic and Homeless Man Cops Beat to DEATH Walk FREE

Cops who beat homeless man to death walk free

Click on the link to read the story, see graphic video and photos. This man was treated worse than any homeless person that I have ever seen or read about. It is shocking and horrific. The injustice of this case... there are no words...

Fucking cops and city gov war on homeless mentally ill...

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Einstürzende Neubauten - Kalte Sterne



Wir sind kalte Sterne..

Kalte Sterne Lyrics

Einstürzende Neubauten
Wir sind Kalte Sterne (Du kannst sehen wie wir funkeln)
Nach uns kommt nichts mehr
Bakterien
Jede einzelne eine Bakterie
Für Dein Hirn für deine Seele für dein Herz
Nie wieder
Nach uns nichts mehr
Wir sind Kalte Sterne (Du kannst sehen wie wir funkeln)
Und nach uns kommt nichts mehr (Kannst du sehen wie wir funkeln?)
Nie wieder
Kalte Sterne
Wir sind alle Monde dieser Welt
Alle Sterne dieser Welt
Aber nach uns kommt nichts mehr
Kalte Sterne (Sieh zu wie wir funkeln)
Wir sind Kalte Sterne
Nach uns kommt nichts mehr
Wir sind Kalte Sterne
Alle Monde
Alle Sonnen
Abwärts
Zur Sonne
Wie Kalte Sterne
Bakterien für eure Seele
Kalte Sterne
Kalte Sterne
Kalte Sterne


English Translation:

We are Cold Stars (You can see how we twinkle)
After us there is nothing
Bacteria
Each one a bacterium
for your brain for your soul for your heart
Never again
After us there will be nothing
We are Cold Stars (You can see how we twinkle)
And after us there will be nothing (Can you see how we twinkle?)
Never again
Cold Stars
We are all the moons of this world
All the stars of this world
But after us there will be nothing
Cold Stars (Look how we twinkle)
We are Cold Stars
After us there will be nothing
We are Cold Stars
All moons
All suns
Down
Towards the sun
Like cold stars
Bacteria for your soul
Cold Stars
Cold Stars
Cold Stars

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

It's Been A Long Time


Yawn in the beginning. Music actually starts at 2:27. Put on your seat belt and prepare for some corny old times. Yawn some more.

Yes, it's been what seems forever since I've bothered to sit down and write. I've been more depressed and anxious, which is my excuse for not writing. I've been numbing my brain with TV online - entire series of shows on Xfinity online. Numbing it with that and a higher dose of generic Seroquel. 

I'm still one miserable ol' fuck. 

I'm up to 600mgs of Seroquel a day/night, and still taking 4mgs of clonazepam per day with that to try and deal with my horrific anxiety. It seemed to get better, then back to the old shit. I'm still taking wellbutrin, prozac in the morning, (sort of) spreading 4mgs of clonazepam throughout the day, and still cutting myself 100mgs of Seroquel at about midday, when my crazy really creeps up on me and bitch slaps me like a motherfucker. My face burns up, I sweat, shake, feel panic, feel like I'm going to lose it and do something crazy, cry and explode. That's when I get the Seroquel chunk with part of its time-release coating cut off, and a clonazepam under the tongue, in hopes of quick relief of at least some of the symptoms. 

It's so exhausting being so fucked up as you/we all know. It's a shame that normal, functioning people can't seem to understand it. That you're physically and emotionally exhausted from just FEELING anything, from surviving the day, even if you never set foot outside or peep out a window. It's also a shame that you can't really continue to dump your Debbie Downer shit on anyone anymore either. I'm starting to feel like there's not even a point in doing it with the psychologist. That makes me want to punch him instead of paying his bills, which I am behind in. 

I feel lucky to have saved a strange little black cat from the city shelter (a few years ago) that is disturbed in her own ways, and am lucky to have her company. She doesn't act "normal" and "friendly" in the same ways that most cats do, but does show her affection, and has been learning to communicate in other funny ways. I'm learning from her, learning to accept her kooky ways, and getting my hair full of cat spit. 

Well, it's certainly been a long time since I've been on the treadmill in any regular way, and I'm going to try and try again this morning. It will help push me into the shower that I definitely need after sweating like a pig off and on all night long last night. Must get back into my old routine. 

Anybody heard of SuperBetter or playing SuperBetter out there?

PS Dear Pope Frankie, since you named yourself after St Francis of Assisi, patron saint of animals, please exorcise my demons and tell them to get the fuck out of my head and body.