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.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

From Darkness To Light

Music: Supernatural Radio (online)
Drink:  Water

Yesterday morning in the darkness, just before the rain came down hard, I managed to get out to the starbucks by the light of the moon. I passed a homeless neighbor that was just waking up, and I was too shy to ask her what her name was, but I told her mine. I asked if she would accept a handful of the starbucks "free coffee" coffee bags, and she did. She smiled from under her ton of blankets and sleeping bag, thanked me, and I told her to have a good morning.

I only got a bit wet in my hoodie on my way to starbucks, but didn't mind. I'd normally freak over it had I been out in the daylight. Very irritating for me. VERY. I only had a coffee and sat in a corner next to a window. Water was leaking in from the ceiling nearby. The reflection of light off the billion litle raindrops set against the dark skies on the glass looked like billions of stars in the partial clearing. I realized then that I forgot my phone, and that the alarm was going to go off at home, and wake up my spouse, so I got out of there pretty quickly. I think my walking song was:

Stuck in the Middle - Stealer's Wheel

Later on, after my therapist appointment, I felt pretty damn proud for not crying again. Just big welled-up tears in my eyes as I looked toward the ceiling while there. Somehow, when I do that, my eyes seem to suck them back in. Another runny nose, and that was it. I tried with all my might and willpower not to cry that whole session, and I didn't crack. Afterward, I was swept away to the drugstore and to grocery store. I needed an Rx, and my husband was crazy/angry hungry. You know how some people get that way? All pissed off if they don't eat? And they take their angry shit out on you. Does not compute with me. I'd rather have hunger pains any day, all day.

We ran into the drugstore, where somebody spray painted "Stick it to the man!" on the sidewalk nearby in huge blue letters. It's kind of comforting to know that it's been there for at least a couple of years. After dropping off my Rx, I was whisked away into the grocery store, the back out across the street to the drugstore. Perfect timing. My full month of clonazepam was waiting for me. Fucking finally!

When we left, I had my purse sitting on my lap as well as a bag of groceries for extra added feeling of "safety" sitting in the front seat on the way home. My spouse drives like a maniac, just like everybody else does, and complains about everybody else, just like the rest of the world does. I can't fucking stand to hear about it.

We got a few blocks down to a semi-major intersection where people were waiting for the "walk" light on both sides of the street, and he tried to whip around and make a right turn before they crossed, just after the "walk" light turned. I screamed and put my left arm out to try to stop him, which I managed to do. I said "You CAN'T FUCKING DO THAT! PEOPLE HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEONE!" I was wearing my sunglasses, and tears began streaming down behind them. WHAT. THE. FUCK.... So my list of shit that caused me PTSD isn't gone or going to go away, I realized. I wept silently behind my sunglasses the rest of the way home, and into the homestead. I remembered that my voice and breathing had changed during that whole thing. I got no reaction from the spouse but "There wasn't anyone crossing yet". 

Does he remember, know or care about my PTSD? Is he just oblivious to this shit or does he purposefully ignore it? I tend to think he's oblivious, that he put his own blinders on many years ago as a kind of coping mechanism for his own shit. Sez Dr Idunno. 

I just didn't want to deal with it anymore.Just wipe the tears and be done with it. Forget it fast, before you start wanting a fucking drink or something (seven). 

From Darkness
 To Light

The light, the light, where is the light in all of this? Oh yes, I woke up in a lighter mood than yesterday, but decided it was too rainy and windy to go out. Later I remembered the good coffee deed that I did. That made me smile. 

I failed at exercise today, but there's always tomorrow, and always tomorrow morning to sneak out around 5.30ish to get outside for coffee and a smoke. I do like being out in the dark by my
self like that.

I received an unsolicited hug from the spouse. There is my daughter. I have a roof over my head, plenty of food and clothing, a computer, a bed, electricity, and money coming in that I can share with my daughter (in college). The spouse gave me a $100 to send to her today. My crazy cat. I got to wear comfy, stretchy workout pants/clothes all day. I've got plenty of saltines for my nausea. I have lots to be thankful for, in fact, too much.

I need to go through my clothes and shoes, and see what I can donate to the charity shop down the street. I'm going to need some huge bags. I became quite the little hoarder when I was living alone in my studio of crazy with the insane online shoe/boot buying problem.