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.

Take this zen shove it.

So I've been having a shit day and my nerves are shot so I decided I'm going to do some yoga and guided meditation and try to breathe and OM this shit down. I go downstairs clear everything out of the way and the sound on my TV won't come on.WTF. I fuck with all of the cords for 5 minutes plugging and unplugging everything and nothing.The cursing begins. Frustrated I unplug everything plug it all back in and tada, it works, Awesome, lets get this OM shit going. I pull up my Fire TV and try to sign into my account and it keeps telling my email is not registered. What.The.Fuck. I begin to curse at my TV yelling "Yes it is you cock sucking piece of shit!". Deep breath. I go back up stairs to my computer and log into my email and verify a bunch of shit and go back downstairs and it lets me log in. Sweet. I find a video that looks promising and hit play. A few breaths while trying to bat Smeegle away and the video suddenly goes back to the home screen. You have to be fucking kidding me. I start the video and try to fast forward to where I was at and fast forwarding isn't an option...Okay try to remain peaceful and calm, I could use the extra breathing anyways. I start from the beginning and get about 2 minutes further and it does it again. I inhale deeply gritting my teeth and start over. 2 minutes past the last point it does it again. At this point I swear to god I'm going to rip somethings head off, all I want to do is some muthafuckin kumbaya breathing and relaxation. Cursing in a way that would make Andrew Dice Clay blush I now go reset my internet connection and choose a different video. Everything is going good, I'm about 5 minutes into the video, Smeegle has stopped trying to headbutt me in downward facing dog and freezes and the cuts off. It took everything in me not to throw my remote through the TV.

No meds

Can't sleep, repetitive thoughts of stupid shit and frustration of trying to remember what the repetitive thought that you had last night that kept you awake but you didn't write down because it was so repetitive you figured there was no was to forget it. Yeah. It just sucks because I was kinda feeling balanced and hopeful of getting my life back together and a week off doesn't seem like a big deal but it is. I will have to fight with my brain to take my meds because manic me won't want to and paranoid me will freak about the side effects. Then I will have to adjust to them again because I will feel doped and brain for and zombie like until I "adapt" and it will take a while before I stabilize again. It's a pain in the ass. 24 hours off and I'm slipping but it takes about 2-3 weeks on to be "stable". It's just frustrating, I just want my life back and control over my brain and emotions and moods.

Abort!

So I was talking to a really good friend of mine tonight and I told him I'm slightly worried about being home alone the next few days and he asks why. So I tell him I've had a few back outs and I leave and don't remember where I went or what I did so I've been giving people my keys at night so I can't do that and now that I'm alone the next few days it's going to be interesting.
He was a little in shock, actually is exact response was "say whaaa!!"

Hmmm. Do I go further and explain a little or not? So I simply say it will be interesting since I haven't slept in like 3 days.

His response. "drink some tea and go to bed .. thats what im doin"

My brain simply yells "abort! abort! Come back to the closet, shut the door, quick!"

I simply laugh and tell him good night.

I have to remember not everyone wants to really know what I'm going through, they don't want the truth, they prefer the mask and the lie. It just sucks when it's someone you really WANT to be a person who would let you come out of the closet and be open and honest with and you find out you can't even a little bit. I mean if he can't deal with that, fuuuucck, he would really bolt with the rest.

So far I have 3 people that I can actually be 100% absolutely honest with, one of them being my mom. I still scare the shit out of her but honestly is the only way this (whatever that is) can work, I have to tell her the weird and scary shit. She has to be aware to help keep me "safe", he being in the dark isn't an option if I want to get better.

The other two are people who also have mental illnesses, one being bipolar. I don't scare them and they don't think I'm lying or insane. They may say that's crazy, if I tell them something that happened became they haven't experienced it, but I don't scare them or freak them out. I can take off my mask with them. All have to do is let the littlest bit of true bipolar slip and it's easy to see who can handle it and who can't.

The only other person I've tried sharing with isn't scared but he doesn't get it. He still thinks I can "snap" out of it or if this changes I will be happy or better. He just doesn't get it.

I'm trying to be open with my bipolar, but I don't want to scare every one away either. I don't want people to not want to be in my life because they can't handle it but damn lying and hiding and wearing a mask is exhausting sometimes. Oh well, I guess I will just keep flashing people bits of my bipolar and see what happens.