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.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Oh Joy! Division - She's Lost Control


Confusion in her eyes that sayAnnotates it all
She's lost control

And she's clinging to the nearest passer by
She's lost control

And she gave away the secrets of her past
And said I've lost control again
And a voice that told her when and where to act
She said I've lost control again

And she turned around and took me by the hand and said
I've lost control again
And how I'll never know just why or understand
She said I've lost control again
And she screamed out kicking on her side and said
I've lost control again
And seized up on the floor, I thought she'd die
She said I've lost control

[Hook]
She's lost control again
She's lost control
She's lost control again
She's lost control


Well I had to 'phone her friend to state my case
And say she's lost control again
And she showed up all the errors and mistakes
And said I've lost control again
But she expressed herself in many different ways
Until she lost control again
And walked upon the edge of no escape
And laughed I've lost control

Oh JOY! Division...

Another day, which today means another day of horrible daylight, possible nausea, and anxiety. The anxiety is BIG on the list because I've got to try and do the treadmill, shower, dress/makeup, and get to see the new shrink, and no, I don't drive. It's already stressing me out, and I've already started in on the seroquel. I don't care if I end up a fucking zombie by the time I get there. I can lean on the walls to get down the street, if I have to. I really fucking don't care. I found another way online last night to search for more shrinks in the area that probably take Medicare.

I finished my 2nd cup of coffee, which is my limit today. I didn't go out to Starschmucks this morning because I had to fuck with the printer and computer for about an hour to get some forms printed. It's been fucked ever since the spouse decided to change a password somewhere, or do something stupid without telling me first. FUCK, it was irritating, but I brought my coffee, and the curious cat was there to watch and distract me. I had a bunch of forms to print and fill out for this new shrink. History and all that. Saves time telling part of your shit story all over again, so I usually go for that when shopping for a shrink.

Now I'm drinking water that has all kinds of toxins in it per the EPA. Sometimes I get a whiff of chlorine, but not always. Today it tastes like.... something... a little metallic.

Well, I've decided that I am actually starting to feel this depressed thing from "Reverse SAD". I was noticing a difference toward the end of last month, when things started to turn. I really fucking freaked one day when the sun hit me directly through the glass doors one day. I keep my sunglasses handy and near, as well as the aspirin. 

I think I felt like crying yesterday. Actually, I did, but I can't remember what that was all about. I felt ok when I got up, but sick later on. The anxiety took care of the nausea eventually, and was scheduled to go to the grocery store at 6, according to the spouse. The last fucking thing I wanted to do. It ruined my morning after he asked about going - instant anxiety. I was trying to shoot for dark, but I knew he wouldn't wait that long. I had to make a stop at the drugstore as well. Re-fill of the crazy med, generic seroquel that mostly keeps the muzzle and leash on the beast. Mostly.

This bipolar depression is some nasty, evil, extreme shit. We're talking flashes of suicidal situations, irritability, feeling absolutely no energy, and my body aching all over. I've even been feeling like I've been hanging by a thread at times today. I thought about BP chat rooms, but I just don't know what to say. Same old shit...

I need a shower and to wash my hair, but I can't manage to force myself to do that. I don't know if I can do it before my new shrink appointment. I seriously doubt it. I'm already dreading skulking down the street, trying to hide from all people and light, wearing sunglasses, and a hoodie. I don't know if I can make it. But I have no choice because I can't afford to be paying for missed damn appointments. I can't fucking flake out. FUCK.

Turns out we have to go shopping today after the spouse gets back from work. I hope I'm not completely emotionally exhausted and all that shit that happens when you go to the shrink. I hope my eyes aren't big puffs with red slits, and my skin all weirded out. Shit, I shouldn't care, 'cause I'll be wearing sunglasses, right? Right. 

Truth be told, I'm fucking terrified of going outside, having to find this shrink's address, going in and talking with her. I hope she doesn't think she's going to try to fuck with my diagnoses. No no no no no... I'll have to inform her on not trying that, because she doesn't know me like my meds shrink does. And he's, well, kind of a big wig in teaching and research here, and might even  tell me to get the fuck out of her office if he knew her. You never know.