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, May 8, 2014

Freak Flag Still Flying High

Moods: Anxiety rising, bit irritable, bit sad
Physical: Tired, nausea, cold feet


This ain't no starschmucks.

Another morning fighting this anxiety-caused agoraphobia had me up and outside after it was officially daytime, about 6ish. Of course I wore my sunglasses. I was pretty much ok with the light as it was partly cloudy. I cursed the sun, and called to the clouds quietly, while cranking up the tunes on the ipod. I made sure I was well medicated before I left.

I was at the corner starschmucks with a cup of coffee, and in my usual spot in no time. I stayed and listened to Jimi Hendrix letting his freak flag fly high as loudly as I could, so that was all that I heard. It was just too bright in there for comfort, and the chairs are not made for comfort for neither back or ass, so I had to get my free re-fill and leave.


The line was very long, but I didn't care because I was in no rush, and I had my own entertainment. As I got to the counter, the guy that treated me like a fucking criminal over a 50-cent cup of coffee (that I reported) walked away from the counter so that he wouldn't have to serve me. So I got my coffee to go from someone else. I could swear I wrote about this guy and that "incident" before, but I can't find it in any post. Anyway, it's an ongoing thing now...

When I got home, I found another email from starschmucks telling me to call their CS number with a reference number, and that a certain CS person wanted to talk to me in person. Hmm.,, I thought that was interesting. Could it be because the last message I said was maybe they felt it was ok to treat me shitty because of my disability? I might have mentioned something about the ACLU as well... So I called the number, and all I got was a ditzy CS person that asked me a question or two about what I had already reported online, and I told her so. I also told her that I got an email from so and so that said he wanted to speak to me in person. She said I would be contacted by phone within 24-48 hrs. Well, that was a waste of time. She even mistakenly said at first that "a customer harassed you..." I cut her off fast. 


Now I'm wondering what the shithead who treated me badly said to his superiors about me. I was as calm as I could have been at that time, despite growing BP psycho rage. I was not threatening. I asked him why he was treating me this way, like a criminal, over a 50-cent cup of coffee, etc etc. I forgot to add disability to my complaint the first time! Damn! 

Their response was blah blah blah, worded very carefully so that there was no apology, but a $10 credit. I sent them another email suggesting maybe it was my disability that they felt gave them licence to treat me so poorly. I also said that my dignity was worth more than $10 credit, which would work out to be about 10 cents for them. The letter probably said they wanted to "talk to me in person" because they wanted to see if I had a disability that they could "see". Well, guess what fucknuts, the disability lies within, lemme school ya. Does this mean they really want to see me, and decide for themselves whether I'm disabled or not? Where they expecting a wheelchair or a white stick maybe?



Blecchh... All I feel is nausea now, and I have to wait and hope it goes away so I can get on the treadmill on time, and get through all the big plans I had in my head. Gotta get tough and just try and walk it off. Water, some saltines, and some gall, well, no gall, had gall bladder removed. Ok, some liver. Whatever!

2 comments:

  1. Hang in there woman. I would be all like" you want to see my disability, give it 2 days and then you will know mental illness fuckheads." I would bring in my scripts and invite them to try a couple. Because they're so useful. It would send an ordinary person into hallucinations, ha ha ha.

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    1. +Heather Thompson I'm hangin'. Oh fuck yeah, I heard taking a lot of welbutrins makes ordinary people hallucinate. My seroquel would be like a kick in the head by a horse. Buh bye. I've survived the day. Posted a pic I found on my hard drive of my mother and I, wrote that she was in the witness protection program instead of dead, that I hoped she was happy and that I missed her, and loved her. Had to put some humor in there. So painful. Sent a text to my sis and bro to tell them thanks and hang in there too. And finally, I got a call from my daughter. Better late than never! I was happy. And it's going to be over, and tomorrow will be another day. Another day to get my shit together and get on that ol' treadmill. I did well on Fri. So I gave myself a break for the weekend. I'll be doing 3mi, and starting earlier. And I will remember to have pants on when I go to close the blinds in the living room. Some guy in the building across the alley said "Yeah! Nice!" It just made me wish I had a tampon string hanging out or something just to gross him out, make him wish he never looked! hahaha!! The cat was no help, she wouldn't get away from the blinds! Somebody needs a spanky around here!

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