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. 

Ruby Woo and Moxie

 Einstürzende Neubauten: Sand    Live 1985


*Um, not exactly once (this is here at the top for a good reason known to me)...


I woke up and was completely clueless for once*. And that was after the coffee. At least I wasn't feeling anxious at all. Yet.

I have the usual appointment with the shrink today. I was going to try to make it by bus all alone. My spouse is home, still laid off from work. He asked me where I was going today, and I told him, the usual weekly shrink appointment. I was irritated, of course, because he already knows this. Why is he pretending not to know? Was he waiting for me to beg for a ride? It seemed like he was hiding in the bedroom. Maybe trying to avoid me? I got pissed.

I slapped on my warpaint, including my Ruby Woo MAC lipstick, which I love, missed, and haven't worn in ages, since I rarely leave the house. My husband doesn't like it so much anymore, because I think he think it brings on more attention? Fuck 'em. My lips are the only part of my body that I can live with without wanting to change. I know, it sounds weird.

So why is it harder to go to the Dr today? Why am I feeling more anxious lately?

My spouse is outside at the moment now, having a cigarette..

A few smacks on the sides of my face! Fucking snap out of it! Don't be a miserable shivering little fucking chihuahua, FFS! You've done this before! Breathe! You'll have sunglasses and an iPod! Get the fuck over it. Once the sting was gone, the anxiety was back. This is not working.

I had a good idea which should have been suggested (in my opinion) by my spouse ages ago! Or I shouldn't have been such a fucking dimwit and thought of this before.I asked him to walk me to the bus stop. He reluctantly agreed. He walked fast, and I held his hand down the street to my stop. We said our goodbyes, and he asked me if I needed a ride back. What the hell? He acts like I'm putting him out like fuck for asking him to walk me, but he doesn't mind jumping in his car? Yeah, he hates walking. I miss walking. I used to like it, to go exploring downtown, and the older parts of town by bus and walking.

I'm back. I made the bus back home on time. I was kind of glad there was another person there at the bus stop. I don't know why. Maybe so I wouldn't be thinking so much about me and my tiny, pathetic world, and trying to imagine what the other guy was doing standing at that bus stop in the middle of the day.

So I made it to the shrink's and back. I still felt shaky on the bus. I sat in the very front where the disabled and elderly sit. I'm disabled and have the discounted bus pass to prove it, so I sit there. It's a demeaning experience waiting in line, having your pic taken, filling out forms, only to get your disabled buss pass. Then you get to feel like you're officially a second-class citizen. It's a demeaning annual ritual. Anyway, I can't see very well, and need to be able to try to check the street signs as the bus goes along, so I don't miss my stop. Sometimes I ask the driver to stop at my stop, but it's embarrassing.

I had my tea, and the conversation was all over the place with the shrink. I was just too much of a mess to have a plan, and I guess he was just too lazy, or too lax to have had some sort of plan. I don''t know what the fuck I'm doing there lately. All that happened is he said some shit about driving - using it to liken it to something else, which was a trigger for me, I was still raw and feeling weak from the anxiety I'd been going through. At least he asked about what we should be doing, and plan on talking about that next week..Fuck it. Whatever. There's next week, and hope that my spouse will be out of here and working.I don't know. Maybe I'll just have to tough it out alone then.

My spouse being around 24/7 is probably the reason for the added anxiety I've been experiencing. I can think of nothing else. Mycat's fine, she's been to the vet recently and got a shot, is in good health. Acts crazy, sweet, sleeps a lot. I'm... well, y'know. Nuts. I think I should be getting out more by moonlight, but cutting down on the caffeine, and drinking more water when I get back home.

Dehydration made me think of this: I remember having an insane psychotic attack one early morning on a trip to a little snowy (very snowy) nearby vacation town. I had been drinking like crazy the night before, then drank tons of coffee the next morning, and had no water. I must have been soooo dehydrated I just lost it. I got to the point where I went outside alone in the snow with my ipod, trying to bury myself and shit. I was found eventually, then I had auditory hallucinations, and a weird sort of blindness. It was kinda scary, and dare I say kinda cool.. I said NO DRs and refused to go to a hospital. It ended about 6 hours later in the comfort of a dark hotel room.

That same person who took care of me then came to the psych ward I was on years later and told me he wanted me to moved out. Yes, while I was still at the hospital without a discharge date. I hope his house value shrinks to nothing, and burns down. I hope I destroyed all the rose bushes and a tree in the front yard. I hope he gets laid off, fucked over, dies of a heart attack, gets deported, killed while drinking and driving, struck down by lightning, shot and killed in a drive by, falls into a sinkhole, gets beaten to death and robbed, flies off a cliff, gets buried under an avalanche, dies fat, alone, wrinkly, and miserable. This is what I call therapy. I wish I wish I wish. I should have picked up some voodoo skills while I was in New Orleans.

I've got a big challenge I want to WIN. I want to go out tomorrow AM in the moonlight and start my day right. I have to deal with a crazed cat, myself, my spouse, the store, and drugstore tomorrow, so I want a good start!

The Devil Within

                                                            "Supernatural" soundtrack*

Well, I guess I can call myself lucky that my spouse is still laid off from work, and could take me to the (meds) shrink on top of ghetto hill. That awful ride would have taken me about 1.5hrs and 2 buses, starting at  about 7am, plus I would have frozen, even in my lovely cashmere sweater and scarf. I'd say I'm not so lucky because my shrink started asking me all kinds of questions about upsetting things that I should be talking about in therapy. I think he wants to say, "You're seeing an idiot." Anyway, he dug up some horrific guilt, failure, and shitty issues that I've tried to bury. Made me fucking cry. And I was hell bent on not crying a drop when I was there. Shit. He even distracted me enough to make me forget about asking about a new pill on tv that I was going to ask about.

I really shouldn't complain at all, because like a dahling, he upped my dose of topiramate (Topomax) which is supposed to be yet another anti-convulsant, BP, etc, but one of the side effects is supposed to be weight loss. And I'm taking generic seroquel, so this will hopefully help motivate me more to get rid of those extra 10ish lbs that mysteriously appeared on my body at some point. This is the reason he's giving it to me anyway, plus its lamictal-type properties. I looked up topomax and had to laugh out loud that it's given out for migraine pain! Who the fuck is selling that big fat juicy lie? I've had dozens of migraines, and it's been no good at all. I'd rather have terrible migraines and be losing weight than no migraines and my weight being steady and stuck as it is.

The weight gain thing has added to my dread of going outside alone, of course, but I don't know how much since it's winter and you can really pile on the layers of clothes..All I know is that I felt more confident, now and then, when I was at a weight that wasn't so bad, but still overweight to me. Yeah, I got that "I'm fat and ugly" demon riding on my shoulder since I stopped being a size 0, then 1, then 2, which is not unreasonable for my height. I just want to look good to me, because it would feel good to me, and it would certainly add to my self-confidence. Man, I sure miss that self-confidence you float down the street with when you're in a good manic phase.No matter how much I weigh, I will always find some spot to call fat and be disgusted and depressed about it. Yeah, I have weight/body issues too to pile on that big pile of miserable shit I fight every day

Somehow, I managed to force myself to walk on the treadmill about 1.5hrs after I came home from the Dr and Rx store. It was so hard because I felt kicked around emotionally, and I was still hurtin' from my appointment earlier. I'm slowly making it back to my old daily goal of 3-5mi a day. I crank up "Supernatural" on TNT, the fan, and try to walk without thinking about my body. I try not to notice how much whiskey they're drinking on the show. I try not to notice all the beer either. Sometimes, to push myself to keep going, I think about the death of a person that I hate, and that deserves a horrific, painful, messy death, like watching him get set on fire after a good beating with a baseball bat. By me. Sometimes I think about the sound of bones breaking and skull being crushed, as well as all the different shades of red, black, and blue he'd be. And the blood. I like to think about the flames lapping at him, and making him scream and cry like a little girl. I wonder if he'd smell like BBQ'd chicken, or just burning shit, like the steaming heap that he is.

I tried to fight off the evil kitchen monster (aka the devil) that keeps dragging me in there to nibble on something, but I lost. At least it wasn't in a really bad way. I stuffed myself with canned green beans and frozen brussels sprouts. Who the hell does that? A fucking nut like me.


*song added to "Suicidal Soundtrack"

But I'm Not S.A.D.

This morning I pulled up my exercise chart, SuperBetter page, email pages, and checked email first. Google had a hayday tossing almost all political or conservation type emails into the spam bucket. Could it be something to do with Obama speaking last night? Hmm, Google? Go ahead and answer since you're reading this. Just quit sending me AARP shit, even though it arrives in spam. I'm not that fucking old!

A local Fox news channel this morning made mention about the overspending by the queen of england and played a bit of the Sex Pistols' "God Save The Queen". Just another testament of their stupidity, making it  hilarious to me, though. They also played U2's "Pride". Days late and dollars short. Morons. TV "news" is awful. I just wanted a weather report. News I can find all over the internet. So this is what made me laugh about their fuck-up:

"God Save The Queen"

God save the queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
Potential H-bomb

God save the queen
She ain't no human being
There is no future
In England's dreaming

Don't be told what you want
Don't be told what you need
There's no future, no future,
No future for you

God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves

God save the queen
'Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems

Oh God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh Lord God have mercy
All crimes are paid

When there's no future
How can there be sin
We're the flowers in the dustbin
We're the poison in your human machine
We're the future, your future

God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves

God save the queen
We mean it man
And there is no future
In England's dreaming

No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future,
No future for me

No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future
For you

Of course they silenced the "the fascist regime" part, and the rest of the song. Bummer. But who doesn't know the rest of the words.

I did my time under/by the S.A.D. lamp, even though I don't think I have it. I did it because my psychiatrist (that gives me meds) suggested to try it. It makes me feel like my face is going to burn up, as well as do weird things to my scalp. I just want to cover my face when I use it, but I try not to. I don't know how long I've been doing it regularly, so I can't say whether it's had any effect or not, apart from the side effects.

I was never diagnosed with S.A.D., but too many other things that drag me down with crippling anxiety and depression, which I'm facing this morning because I have a therapist appointment. Will I be able to take the bus, or will I ask for a ride, which I hate, from my spouse, who is laid off at the moment. Fuck. I "want" to take the bus, but it's impossible to predict whether I can or not, regardless of the fact that the appointment is about 2 hours away. I give myself a whole hour to get ready to go so that I won't get stressed out from being in a hurry. That doesn't help all that much anymore either. So, I'm not sad, but instead I'm depressed, pissed off, frustrated, anxious, and a bunch of other shit I don't want to dig up and slap a name on. I'm not happy that I feel like I'm getting no support or cheering on by my damn spouse. That makes me want to get away from him. Hopefully I can use that awful feeling and turn it into something positive for me. Fuck 'em.