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.

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.