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.

Monday, April 14, 2014

I Lost My Shoe - I'm Batman

Today is the first official day that I go back to the starring role in "The Crazy Stay-At-Home-Wife". I have already been up since the spouse, which was at 5, and made coffee just for him. He looked grouchy as ever, so I ignored him to dress for my trip to starfucks.

The spouse wasn't around long, and I guess he didn't want all the coffee I made him, so I drank the leftover teeny cup with the last bit of half-n-half in the house. That worried me. He said "Well, I'm off," sounding exhausted as I was feeling and looking, and hugged me goodbye. He left the door unlocked. Rolling my eyes here.

Just like Prince wrote, I was thinking it was going to start off a manic monday. I guzzled the last bit of coffee here, then went to starfucks and got busted for using a 2013 coffee bag. They said they'd give me a free cup this time. I didn't stay long - didn't have the patience or sunglasses. It was getting too light outside, and after digging around in my pockets, I learned that my damn lighter was missing! FUCK.

I got home fast, and had a smoke on the balcony/lanai/deck/whatever, which is a no no to calm me, even though I'd had my meds before leaving for coffee. Damn, I forgot to steal some more sweetener. All the lights were on, and the shades were open, so I could see all these ugly spots on the carpet. It's just filthy. Some looked like old cat puke, so I went around squirting and scrubbing all over. Then I started dusting the living room, which I hate. I don't know what made me do that. After all that, I cleaned out the dirty laundry from my closet, and did a load. I put the dry stuff away already, and hung the delicates to dry on a clotheshorse. I made scrambled eggs fried in bacon fat, green tea, and here I am. Feeling kind of guilty for sitting down. I was thinking I could have washed the blanket that I'm sitting on now, or go for some more carpet scrubbing like a nut case, but I remembered that I'll be on the treadmill in about an hour.


Breathe in and out slowly... after having taken a bit of seroquel, of course. Have a little tea. I'm talking to myself. I'm writing to myself. I'm crazy. I'm a crazy person, but that's ok, Supernatural is on, and this is the one where Dean says he's Batman. hahaha And Sam loses his fucking shoe! hahahaha Cuppa Crazy, anyone?

EDIT:  Ok, Ok... I think I figured out why I was supposed to feel anxious today. I was supposed to call my current therapist and fire him. Then I was supposed to call 3 or 4 female psychologists that are in the same building that he is in, according to the insanely fucking unreliable Medicare website. They could have a practice anywhere, and they may or may not take Medicare. I may or may not be fucked.  I HATE talking on the phone to people that I don't know, and having to leave messages for people that I don't know. THAT is something that makes me anxious, even if I am alone and there's no one around to hear me talk.

So, I called my therapist and had to leave a message. I said that I had to cancel this week's appointment because I couldn't afford to go every week, which is true now. I will be firing him when I find a new therapist to replace him. Anyway, then I called all 4 female psychologists that were listed on the Medicare site that are supposedly in the same building as the current. I had to leave messages for all of them and felt stupid as all fucking hell. I was up front about the Medicare because I didn't want to waste my time, energy, or mood(s).

FUCK. Not ONE live person on the phone... Well there was one more...Called and left ANOTHER message, but that's Ok, this office is within walking distance... if I can get out. I think I might to see someone new. Fuck, I'd force myself even if I bawled all the way. I think there's another I can call that's only a short ride away (by bus)... and left another message.

Let the incoming calls and freakouts begin...