Fustrated

     Guess I should start with an update before I ramble about the shit that is happening now so things make sense. I finally found a good balance of meds, I did great at my job, I was loving it, life was okay, nothing exciting but I was "Normal", and okay and then I reconnected with someone from my past who lived out of state we started a long distance relationship and I eventually moved to his home state and in with him and eventually his kids moved in with us full time, you can read all about that (it kind of overlaps with this blog) HERE. if you want to know about my adventures into "step-motherhood and my relationship.




      Okay so that is a very brief synopsis, like I said detail on the other page. I like to write, it helps me work things out, it feels good to share even if no one else ever reads my ramblings, it's therapeutic to me and maybe I'm a little narcissistic. Back to the point, I'm fucking frustrated! At this moment because I am using a shitty keyboard that keeps sticking but that is the least of it. Once I moved up to my new home I had the joy of trying to find a new psychiatrist, it was number one on my list, my mental health is always my top priority. I took me a while to find one taking new patients, that was covered by my insurance and that was in a practical location. I found someone and from day one I didn't really like him. He never looked at me, he sat behind his computer and typed I mean even introducing myself he didn't even shake my hand or anything. First thing he did was change my meds. Great. Of course every doctor thinks the know best and doesn't understand why the previous doctor would have you on the meds you were on. 😒 So he put me on klonopin, amitriptyline and kept my carbamazepine removing my trazadone and geodon. Yeah, adjusting to new meds, in a new place in a new life with a new job.(I swear this is going someplace) It didn't go so smooth, especially with the new job, I called in a lot to a brand new job, coming up with every reason you can think of when really it was just my brain freaking out. I eventually confessed to my new job and got covered by ADA since I was on the verge of being fired. As it turns out I hate my fuck job.....HATE IT. Back to the doctor, so I tell the doctor I'm not having such good luck with the meds, still not sleeping well, waking up in the middle of the night, lighting a cigarette and falling asleep and either burning myself (I'm covered in burns on my chest, stomach and even arm of burn in various staged of healing) or burning huge holes in my pillows, and blanket, how it hasn't caught on fire I have no idea. What does he do, ups my dose.


      I'm not manic, I do have days where I have a little more "Pep" than others and I do have days when getting out of bed isn't gonna happen but for those to days are few and far between so I can give him that, but I still can not sleep. No matter what I do my brain will not turn off without LOTS of meds and now I have what I call "work anxiety". I can't explain enough how much I hate my job and I'm not going to go into the many reasons why, but whenever I know I have to work the next day I start having panic attacks around 7pm the night before, I can't sleep or I take more and more meds until they put me in a coma and then when I have to get up like 3 hours later I wake up loaded off my ass. It's just bad all around. So I go to my psychiatrist this past week and I tell him all of this and ask him what can I do? Can maybe I go back to an old med, switch meds, try a different dose or something because the burning myself and everything and not sleeping just isn't working. His response quit smoking and change jobs. My eyes rolled back to last year.


      Seriously if it was that fucking easy don't you think I would have done that shit? I mean I only smoke at night when I am in bed and I think it has to do with my meds and them making me loaded because I don't smoke the rest of the day and if I could just NOT smoke don't you think I would, I mean think of the money I would save. Second don't you think I've been looking for another job M'Fer, when I told him that he was like well just quit this one now and you will eventually find another one. Really? And who is going to pay for YOU! And my rent and utility bills and put food on my table, you know not be homeless. He had no actual help or advice for me beside be homeless. I tried to explain I have full blown panic attacks where I'm crying and can't breathe all over this stupid job and as much as I would like to do the fuck you dance and remove the "stress trigger" I can't without something else in place.


Anyways that is my frustration of the moment. I can get why he would rather have me remove the stressor than use meds as a crutch but it would still be nice to have some support and not be covered in burns and worried that my house isn't going to burn down any night now with everyone in it. Okay end rant.

Messing with my head.

So tomorrow I start my new job. I'm super excited about it, it's doing something I love and something that I went to college and completed, something I'm good at so why am I sitting here crying and having panic attacks? This is the conversation going on in my head.

Side A: I'm so excited to working in this field again and at this facility, I've wanted to work here FOREVER

Side B: Don't be to happy, you won't be there long. I mean what we're you thinking getting a job 40 minutes away, with severe traffic and with you having to be there at 7 or 8 am. You work nights remember!

Side A crying: I can adjust, it will be rough but I can do it. Plus she told me that she had one spot open and several candidates and she picked ME. They want me there.

Side B: What if you can't hack it? You sprained your shoulder last time and it's still not healed. What if your co-workers hate you? What if you just can't do the job? What if you fuck up big time? This is going to be a disaster, you should just not even humiliate yourself like this.

Side A now curled up in a ball crying: fuck, fuck, fuck, what was I thinking! Fuck. What do I do? What do I do? Fuck I really need this! Breathe.... In for 4, hold for 7, release for 8. Now repeat. Fuck this, where's the drugs. God I hope I don't wake up high because them I'm really fucked. I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. Last time I dreaded it and it was great, it will be great this time!

Side B: Lies.

Reality Check

So the last few weeks I have been feeling really great and "normal" for the most part. My mania hasn't been uncontrollable, my depression hasn't been debilitating, I've been really aware of my triggers and avoiding them and I was excited and hopeful. Then today happened.

I have been wanting to work at the spca for as long as I can remember, I've applied a bunch of times and never heard back and this past Saturday I finally got the call and the interview was the next day. Interview went great, and I was told I would hear back by the end of the week if they wanted me to come I'm for a working interview where I basically volunteer for a day to see it we all fit, it's pretty standard for shelters. Yesterday I got the call asking if I could come in tomorrow (which is today) for my working interview. I was stoked!

After the excitement wore off I realized that I was going to have to wake up at like 6am...my usual bedtime. Right now I feel defeated, frustrated, disappointed and angry with myself. I feel like my bipolar was like "Oh, you think you got rid of me? Guess again bitch" and it decided to show me who's really in charge of my mind and my life. It just doesn't make sense, unlike the last interview panic attack, I actually really, really want this job! I wasn't dreading it, I was looking forward to it so why the panic attacks? It makes no sense.

I don't sleep all night, not even 5 minutes. I get to the back gate like they tell me to and I can't get it. There is a buzzer no one is answering and I don't have a passcode, I'm just stuck waiting, anxiety building. Finally I get let in by someone and they show me where I should go but the manager isn't there so I awkwardly wait outside of the manager's door. People keep passing and looking at me strange or asking if I'm lost and my anxiety keeps building along with my lack of sleep and I know that this is going to end bad. The one of the other staff members comes and asks me if I'm okay and my anxiety peaks and I pop and start crying. Yep I start crying in front of a total stranger. She asks what's wrong and the first thing I can think of is telling her that I got into a car accident on my way there and I was shook up. (I had been in a accident and my car had damage) She called the manager and told her what happened and they rescheduled me for next week. What a fucking disaster.

There's nothing worse than having no control over your mind and moods, to not have control over the thoughts in your head or your body's reaction to them. It fucking sucks and I feel powerless and it my illnesses mercy. Just when I thought I was back in control and getting my life back together I got hit with a reality check, it was all just a farce.