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.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Some Are Born To The Endless Night

The Doors - End of the Night

Take the highway to the end of the night 
End of the night, end of the night 
Take a journey to the bright midnight 
End of the night, end of the night 

Realms of bliss, realms of light 
Some are born to sweet delight 
Some are born to sweet delight 
Some are born to the endless night 
End of the night, end of the night 
End of the night, end of the night 

Realms of bliss, realms of light 
Some are born to sweet delight 
Some are born to sweet delight 
Some are born to the endless night 
End of the night, end of the night 
End of the night, end of the night


It's Saturday, which means that doing the treadmill should not be an option. It should be done. I feel too sick to even move too much at this point, so I can't see that it's going to happen. Another fail?

My alarm woke me up, but also the spouse this time, and he actually got up. I was instantly irritated. Fucking PMS.I could not stand to be in his presence or hear him. I felt a little guilty about it, but stopped myself because I was going out into the dark to the Starschmucks around the corner. Had to get away from here. 

I tried to watch a tv show on my phone, but I guess my connection wasn't cooperating. I don't know anything about that stuff. So that was out. All I had was music, but it just wasn't enough of a distraction to be able to stay after finishing my coffee. 

Outside, it was dry, dark, and not too cold. Again, I couldn't find my friend, the moon, but I found I was enjoying my smoke before I went back in the building. Walking down the hall to my door, the hallway seemed never ending and crazy. Maybe vertigo. Maybe I didn't want to go back, so my brain started fucking with me.

Mostly I just feel...nausea...with a dose of anxiety coming on. I can feel my cheeks starting to burn up. I don't know if that's from anxiety or not getting enough clonopin in time. Very addictive stuff, they say. 

I doubt that I'm going to get anything done, like the taxes. I tried to start doing that yesterday eve, but the spouse was being too noisy and distracting that I couldn't concentrate for shit. No matter how many times I read bits and pieces of instructions and rules, I just couldn't get it. I'm trying not to let it become overwhelming, but it's really feeling almost impossible with the presence of the spouse - his comings and goings, his seemingly happy little mood that I'm doing the taxes. He probably has big dollar signs in his eyes and a big smirk on his face, but I won't look at him.

I'm tired. Tired of this fucking anxiety, taxes, bullshit, pms, irritability, physical symptoms... I just want to push all the papers off the couch and curl up in a ball. 

I feel so weak, like someone has taken the vacuum hose to me and sucked out any energy that I had, and kicked me in the uterus.

I just feel wrong. All wrong and unable to deal with figures over and over. I wish I wasn't that slow and cognitively impaired to deal with paperwork and shit, but I NEED it OUT of my life. No one's going to help me either. I wonder if I should request and extension, but I don't want to drag it on, and I can't. I am obligated to give my daughter my info, and don't ever want to let her down again.

Current status: Fail