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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, May 1, 2014

The Cat Rules The Roost




I got up later than the spouse this morning. I don't remember hearing his alarm. Very strange. I must have had a bit of a  PTSD aftermath thing going on. I definitely had a drug hangover. I'd had a lot of seroquel, and the heat doesn't help. I guess that's why they tell you not to overdo it with the exercise and sweat yourself to death? Anyway, I took my meds, leftover vitamins, and aspirin all in one go. My spouse is always surprised to see me swallow such a big handful of pills. Dude, I've OD several times. I'm kinda used to it or some shit.

He took me to the drug store after work yesterday, calling me from his phone, in his car, while parked on the street. I wasn't ready. I was lucky that I had clothes on. I didn't even wash my face or brush my teeth that day, and my hair was filthy. I just felt like shit. So I thew on a black hoodie, put my hair up under it, sunglasses, and leather leopard print flats. I have to have leather shoes, otherwise my feet will be torn to pieces, and Converse don't go with everything, but they could have this time. Didn't have the time to look for them in my mystery closet of super secret sizes and scary stuff. 

I brought along my raised dose of Topomax (to 150mg prescription), and a coupon from my Medicare Part D insurance company for free calcium + D vitamins. Thought I'd start making the most of those freebee coupons from them since I have to pay $30.20 each month for my separate Medicare Part D prescription drug plan. When I used it, I felt like I was buying a truckload of Depends or something. It was embarrassing, and I don't know why, but that ended when my spouse set down a 6-pack of Stella and some cashews to pay for it all! At the pharmacy counter! We're classy.

He likes having beer on a sunny day, and I do too, and we usually limit it to no more than 3 for me and no more than about 4 for him. I just like it ice cold, with a side of cold water, to keep hydrated. My meds are well-known for the dry mouth effect, and I hate it. Hate feeling bloated but dry all the time.

It was all hunky dory until we got in the car, he opened the door for me (?WTF) strapped up, we backed out same time as someone else and hit another car. Instant tears for me, but I tried shaking it off, because I've lived in such fear of being in the front seat of a car since I can remember. I wiped up and had a smoke. I put myself back together. The spouse asked me if I was ok, I said yeah. And I was going to be in a bit. Nobody was harmed. Just shaken. So that beer went fast as soon as we got home! hahaha!

Fucking PTSD you evil cuntbag from shitsville in hell! Fuck you in the ass with no reach-around!

Today, the spouse made tea for himself instead of coffee! I guess he didn't want to risk it! Ha! I wonder why he didn't wake me up, but didn't ask. So I made it for myself and a cup for him. We did a no-no and smoked on the balcony with coffee. I tried to convince him not to work 'cause it's "general strike day". I said "you could always use your psychotic wife as an excuse if they ask". He later asked me if it was ok use that when he called in to his employer. I didn't understand why. I have had some badass trauma in the past 2 days, and I was actually glad that he called in, and that he would be here. I guess that's the weak part of me speaking? I don't know. 

He went back to bed for about an hour or so after I made coffee. Rolling my eyes here...

There was a knock on our door before 8am (extremely odd), but we were sort of expecting maintenance to come through to clean the windows/sliding glass doors. I really didn't want to answer the door and deal with people, especially if they had to come stomping through the apartment. It wasn't maintenance, instead it was a very tall suspicious looking stranger, with a dark coat on and a credit card in his hand, my spouse said. He claimed to be trying to get in touch with the landlord and thought that they lived in the building. He also said he lived in #304 and was wearing a heavy outdoor coat. So, the spouse reported the "incident" to the management, and she said that there is a man that gets into the buildings somehow and goes around knocking on doors, asking for money and things. Not cool when you're supposed to have a secure building. The spouse said he was glad that he was here to answer the door. He's 6'2" but bigger when angry. I don't like him when he's angry.

I told him "THAT's the reason why we lock the fucking doors in the states" as I have dozens of times. He forgets to lock the front door too often. I have a very large, wonderful heavy French rolling pin bought from a specialty shop downtown. It's pretty damn big and hard. Plus, since I used to like to cook, I also have some very good knives and keep them VERY sharp and in a very accessible spot, like the rolling pin. We are armed. I don't like that the doors are so shitty they could easily be kicked in.

Just yesterday morning we were having a smoke outside again and some guy down below was trying to bum a smoke, and he was turned down. Then he asked to borrow a light, and was probably smoking crack  there in the alley. He tossed the lighter back up to the spouse, and did a really crazyass drug dance down the alley. The spouse smokes out there all the time in the morning, and swears he's seen drug deals, and other people smoking god knows what. Also, that the needles just keep piling up in the garage below us. I don't feel unsafe down there. I just feel bad that these people are doing that junk.

The cat wants something from me ever since I sneezed. She came to me and meowed, as if she was trying to comfort me. She does that. She's weird. She crawled back and forth over my laptop, and sat on the arm of the couch and tapped me on the shoulder several times. She finally settled down and sat at my side, but keeps looking up at me occasionally, and digging her claws into my leg. She probably wants me to go to bed so she can sleep between my feet or beside me.

Well I did what I set out to do - treadmill and shower/hair wash. Finally. I'll go to bed with it wet and sleep better, with a nice cool fan in there. 

I feel like I'm coming out of a huge attack of anxiety, and I kinda have over the past few days. I just want to rest, and wake up in the peace of the dark morning once again, without a headache or drug hangover.

Let the seroquel come in and kick my ass... Kitty is forcing me to go to bed now.

The pigs have been set loose on the protesters. Wish I could see more of what's going on. Attacked with pepper spray for NO reason. More tomorrow...

3 comments:

  1. What would we do without your brave honesty? We would sink in a cess pool of our self inflicted political correctness that even I have succumbed to in the past year or so ... getting out and about in the "mental health advocacy" circles loose cannons who use words like fuck and crazy and psycho and not "mentally ill" and all those other pc words ONLY aren't asked to be on the speakers list hahaha. But you speak volumes because you speak to our hearts not to some bullshit "Look at me, I'm a fucking narcissist who beat the bully mental illness and will be your guru back to divine perfection." We live with this and some days are better than others. Some moments are more golden and healing is a jagged edge upward sometimes.

    I just got a bunch of homework in my email from my one on one ... if I had balls, they would ache right now. I have to take it one small paragraph at time because they are kicking me in the gut. Stuff triggers us and knocks us down, but you get up and you go get your meds and you strap back into the car to go home and you get on the treadmill ... Don't discount your successes. It didn't kill you today so you won.

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    1. What a sweetheart you are! I didn't think my honesty was so much brave as me being unable to edit myself in writing and in public. Shit just comes flying out, and there it is! It could be totally embarrassing, or funny, or way over my own crazy head!

      Yeah, I know what you mean about the "Look at me! I'm a hero! I beat my mental illness, and I'm back to be your guru..." Sometimes I wanna grab those guys and punch 'em in the throat, and say, "Since you're over it, or "healed", move on, get outta here! Go live your life!" Who knows, you may end up inmates at the same psych hospital ward again one day!

      I'm Bipolar, have PTSD, and wicked anxiety, so I can definitely be a loose canon with a filthy mouth and am not even PC with the mentally ill! That is pretty sad. Accept your crazy! Doesn't mean you have to like it or love it. Let your freak flag fly high! Have some fun with it when you can, have a laugh like a kid again!

      I shall try not to discount my successes, but it's hard. I should remind myself that I didn't die in the way I didn't want to, and that damn treadmill is still calling to me. Next, it will start texting me.

      Thanks for your comments! Much appreciated!

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    2. I forgot to mention that while we were waiting for my prescription to be filled, I was looking through the vitamins, then the "pain relievers" and heard fucking "I Wanna Rock and Roll All Night (And Party Every Day)" by Kiss. I could not stop laughing. At a drugstore. The original. A drugstore. Early evening. 2014. It was just fucking hilarious!

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