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, September 4, 2014

Something Ugly's Growing Inside...



I don't know how I manage it, but I continue to scrape my useless ass up off the bed around 5am, throw on some clothes in the dark, and go make a pot of coffee. I even mentally and emotionally sort of prepare myself for the bitchiness of a "non-morning person". As if that's an acceptable excuse at this age. There's no point in me trying to sleep through the spouse's 5am alarm and his morning noises anyway, so I get up, even if I'm exhausted, or am waking from a dream, thinking that it's someone else next to me! D'oh! That happens on rare occasion, and I normally don't know who that person is or is supposed to be. I am under the impression that he has begun to resent the fact that I don't (can't) work.

Somehow I managed to get through the wee morning hours with the grouchy ass spouse. Even though he called in to work and said he was going to be late, just so he could take his time getting out of here. He complained about work. Because of the holiday, it's only a 4-day work week.

Something ugly is growing inside, and wants attention from me. I am trying to avoid it.

They were let off early today as well, so I was caught sitting on the couch, still in my post-treadmill stinkiness and mess. At least I managed to force myself and beat yesterday's "record" without a problem. It's getting harder and harder for me to mentally force myself on the treadmill, but easier for me once I'm on it and make sure I'm watching something that will really take me away, no matter how many times I've seen it ("Supernatural" this time). I can't wait for the latest season to come out on DVD, even though I really can't afford it. Put it on the credit card and make the spouse pick up the interest fees as payback.

Speaking of finances, I remembered the last huge statement that one of the psychologists I was seeing (and stopped) sent me, thinking, "what if I fucked up and owed the fucker some money?" So very very very reluctantly, I went through the huge piles of bills again, his pages of statements, and remembered the fact that he cashed the last check I sent. I figured out that it looked like I actually overpaid, and that he owed me money, so I wrote a neutral note this time (haha), and am sending it along with parts of statements he sent me. He's an idiot, and I thing he pretended that he had an accountant in the first place. He didn't look like he could afford such luxuries, especially working less than 40hrs pw, I noticed.

I noticed it was dark this morning, and I realized I could maybe get out in the early mornings again. What's really fucking sad was that the last time I did it alone is recorded on a starschmucks card, showing a transaction from the last week of April! I saw it when I was finally adding some stars to the account, and checking on the value of a card I found. I almost burst into tears, but it was just too incredibly shocking and pathetic. It could be wrong, but probably not. They stopped printing bags with the "free coffee" offer trade-in for the bag. Cheapass motherfuckers. It is still really fucking sad that I can't remember the date that I last got out by myself. It must have been early May, using a coffee bag.

I'm considering going out tomorrow morning, but I really want to make it up the street a few more blocks to the drugstore, to pick up a couple of notebooks for journals since I can't use this computer. It would be light by then, at 8, according to the weather channel hourly reports (yeah, OCD about weather reports and being prepared) and it looks like it will be a bright day. I can't handle that shit, and I know it. I don't know know... maybe with a mouthful of my prescribed clonazepam for the day, a cigarette, sunglasses, ipod, and a hoodie? Who knows. I'll only know how I can do it, or if I can do it tomorrow. Fuck.

I'm off to shower before reading in bed. That will surely knock me out. I'll be up early again, trying not to wake that "something ugly" that seems to be growing inside. Maybe I can drown it out with coffee or distract it by making it outside? I've still got credit on that supid coffee card and need to use it.

Dread. Better go find my solar-powered watch for the person who never goes outside before I forget it's near the window and "lose" it...