"You are CHOOSING to be this way" - from my psychiatrist.

Note to self:  "Avoid harmful relationships."

I didn't realize that my psychiatrist would be one of those harmful relationships.  See: What the HELL was I thinking? O, right. I wasn’t thinking. In November I had to switch psychiatrists due to the fact that my old one (Dr. C) didn't take my insurance.  My first visit with Dr. D (a.k.a. "The ASShole")  was an hour-long history report.  He went through this huge packet of papers asking me about every single aspect of my mental health/drug addiction/family history life.  "Have you ever used marijuana, mary jane, weed, pot, reefer, grass,...?"  and on and on about every single type of drug and/or alcohol or poison one can pump into their body with any name or slang that you can think of to call it (thus the MJ, weed, pot, reefer, grass, etc).   Now, I get it that he is a Dr at a substance abuse and mental health facility so the paperwork is standard, but after about the third thing I said flat-out "I do not do/use any drugs, I drink socially, which is hardly at all anymore because the last time of the 3 times I have been drunk IN MY LIFE I did something really stupid.  I don't smoke, I have occasionally in the past but never habitually, the only other "drugs" I have had in my system were prescribed FOR ME, and used accordingly or less than directed."  And right after that..."Have you ever used methamphetamines, amphetamines, uppers, speed, meth, ... !!!"  Oh wait..."Yes, I was on adderall for 3 months and Ritalin for 2 months, separately, for A.D.D. and I quit taking them because they didn't help the A.D.D. and I didn't want more drugs in my system than what is necessary."  And so on and so forth.   And then he wanted to know if I was experiencing any side effects from my present meds.  I told him that I was tired ALL THE TIME from the seroquel, but if I didn't take it I didn't sleep AT ALL.   He told me I was being lazy.  I think there may have been another blog addressing my aversion to the "lazy" title.  O, boy!  WRONG thing to say to me.  So, I left his office that day feeling like crap and thinking he was an asshole.  David asked me why and I couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but it was just this feeling that I had.  Maybe it was just the clinical nature of the visit, we'd see next month.

Re: 2nd visit with Dr. D.  December 28, 2009

Dear Diary,

This morning I had a follow-up appointment with my new psychiatrist.  I haven't been doing so well lately, Diary.  I have had a depression brewing the past month that just busted open last week and I'm not feeling too great about myself right now.  My medicines don't seem to be helping much, and I have asked myself why I am taking them, but I know I need to stay on them just to keep some kind of regulation to my system.  Maybe my psychiatrist will have better insight into why I feel like crap in spite of taking all this medicine.

So, Diary, I saw Dr. D this morning.  I waited in the waiting room for over 45 minutes and became increasingly more anxious and uncomfortable with myself the longer I waited.  I swear the man across the room was staring at me the whole time.  I wish I could have disappeared into the horrendous wallpaper.  Finally, Dr. D came out with his stupid grin on.  We proceeded into his office where he immediately asked me how I was doing.  I said "Today, not so great.  I've been having a bad couple of weeks."

"Elaborate on a 'bad couple of weeks', what's been going on?" asks Dr. D

"Well, I've been feeling very low, and I had been doing better since February with not yelling at my family for little things, but I have been having emotional outbursts a LOT, and crying at little stuff, or nothing at all.  A lot of bad stuff has happened to me, in the past, around this time of year."

"Oh, well, hmm.  I'm not going to change anything until you get out of this environmental stressors period, ok?  Have you been having any medication side effects?"

"Well, I have been sleeping a lot more than usual, mostly when my husband is home and I don't have to get up to get my daughter off to school, but I don't do it intentionally, I just don't wake up until someone wakes me."

"Well, that's not a side effect that sounds like you're CHOOSING to sleep more," says Dr.D. "We'll reevaluate next month when you come back, ok?"

At this time he stands up and starts to head for the door.  I stand up, and then I think to myself "No, that's not ok."

So, I say "Why am I still feeling depressed?  I have been taking these medications for almost a year. I thought they were supposed to help me not feel like this?"

He sits back down and says, "Well, you have to look at the long-term vs. the short-term."

And so I ask, "Well what's the long-term?"   "Lifetime" he says.  "Ok, well then, what's the short-term?"  "Two to three years"

Now, I understood this as I have to be on the meds for two to three years before they will start to prevent me from feeling depressed or manic. (The depression is mostly what I'm concerned with)

Then he says "You're probably asking yourself why you're taking the medications.  It's a choice that you have to make.  Whether or not you want to be on them."

I responded, "Working in the healthcare field and knowing what I know, NOT being on medication isn't an option for me.  But I thought that even if I didn't feel BETTER all the time, that at least I shouldn't be this depressed on the medication... because right now, on them, I'm no better than I was NOT on them."

And then, (and this shouldn't have come as such a surprise) he says to me, "Well, you're making that choice.  You're making the choice to sleep all day, and be sad, and not feel well.  You have to make a choice to not feel depressed."

Wait!  Back up there....  I'm making the CHOICE to be depressed????  No lie, he seriously said that, and then smiled his stupid smug smile at me.

And then proceeded with he'd like to see me back next month and we'll see how I am then, and got up and opened the door to his office.  Meanwhile, I was shell-shocked, nodded my head and walked out of the office, went to the front desk and scheduled my appt. for next month.

I got in the car, and started driving home.  Got about halfway home and I guess I had processed it enough to start crying and feeling angry.  So I called David.  And I started blubbering at him what had happened.  Before I even got through the whole explanation he told me that I needed to find a different psychiatrist.  Because even he, David, knew that I wasn't choosing to be like this/ feel like this.  And the fact that my PSYCHIATRIST, who went to school to diagnose and treat mental health disorders, is telling me that I AM CHOOSING to be this way is just plain BULLSHIT.  David said that even if he thought that I was making a choice when I first had issues when he and I were together, over the years he KNOWS that I'm not CHOOSING this.  I'm not doing it on purpose.

So, I am on the lookout for a new psychiatrist.  Of all the dr's to have to change this has to be one of the hardest.  They're not there to mend a broken bone, or run blood tests.  They're there to try to help you put your head on straight.  So, when they kick your head in... you never really know if it's just your perception or if it really is them.   Today, I realized how sorry I am for those people out there that don't have a partner or medical surrogate to help them to decide when it's just their perception and when it truly is the dr. being a BAD dr.  Talk about kicking someone when they're down.

*Sigh*  So, that was my morning.

Angelina had a follow-up appointment at the allergists to go over her test results and whatnot with the dr.  The dr. we saw today was a different dr than who she and I had seen when I first took her to that office.  I was COMPLETELY blown away by this doctor.  He was AWESOME!  It's actually making me cry right now to compare side by side the asshole that is my now (hopefully previous) psychiatrist, and the awesome allergist that is Angelina's.  David liked him a lot as well.  He was very warm and friendly and sat and talked with us a while.  Answered any questions we had, went above and beyond and gave us follow-up materials, recommended a wonderful allergy website, got her prescriptions, was completely agreeable when we told him that Angelina doesn't tolerate nose sprays or shots.  Told us to call, YES CALL, if we needed anything else, and that most anything could be handled over the phone and wouldn't require us to drive down there or pay a copay. (of course we don't with her insurance anyway)  And, seriously, I have NEVER had a doctor tell me to just call if I had any question or needed meds or anything... Hell, I've had doctors make me come into the office, pay my copay, and wait an hour, just for them to tell me that my blood work was normal.   I wish I was still a kid.  Kid doctors seem to me SO MUCH NICER and cooperative and accommodating than adult doctors.  Her current pediatricians are AWESOME, her allergist is AWESOME, the place she is going through for counseling seemed really AWESOME (although that has yet to be seen once we start with the actual therapist)

Again, I ask, when will life be simple?  Why do I have to be so complicated, in turn making my life complicated?  Icing on the cake?  I have to find a new psychiatrist.  I have decided I have crap luck with male mental health "professionals" so I want a woman.  Guess how many are on our insurance within 50 miles?  2.  Yes, TWO.  And one is in Vero, the other in Palm Beach.  FML!

Merry Christmas, Genuinely

The last three blog posts were quite negative.  Why is it that I always focus on the negative.
What I really came here to say is this: Merry Christmas!  I have had some good Christmases and this year will be wonderful.  I am hopeful.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.


Edit:  Christmas was fairly uneventful.  Ending up staying at David’s parents Christmas Eve into Christmas Day.  Watched a lot of movies, slept on and off through the evening.  Had the wonderful breakfast David’s dad prepares every year. Opened presents, got a cool couple of things (like a digital photo frame that I have wanted since they came out a couple yrs ago)  David got a small air compressor which he has been wanting for a while but couldn’t justify the expense.  Angelina got a lot of dance stuff (tights, leotards, tap shoes, ballet slippers, and dance lessons!) a marshmallow maker (think Peeps) and a Booboo! Bear that sneezes and stuff.  Then after all was done she says, I didn’t get very much stuff. Humph!   I went home to shower a couple hours after we had done presents, and brought back the gifts from my mom and her partner, and also the two gifts that “Santa” (my mom) had sent her over the internet through fedex.   This kid threw a big fit at 11:30 am because she didn’tget enough stuff even tho she had a pile of stuff.  She opened Santa’s gifts at around 3:30… Changed her entire day.  Santa really listened and brought her what she had asked him for.  Exactly.  She got a stuffed dog and a stuffed rabbit.  That was the highlight of her day.  And they have gone everywhere with her since then.


THANKS MOMMY!!!!!!

Ahhh, Christmas Time! I hope you die. The 2000’s

The 2000’s

Christmas 2000 – 16 years old: I ended up staying with mom.  I was in school, I had a job, I had 3 failed semi-relationships in the year that I lived in FL, and was currently in a super secret relationship with a GIRL!  Well, super secret from her mom at least… everyone else knew.  So, Christmas… She was at my house spending the night (as we did most weekends) and she gets a call from her mom that her uncle is coming to get her.  So of course she is quite interested in why her uncle is coming to get her, and why anyone is coming to get her at all considering she had only been at my house a couple hours.  Well, apparently her mom is a snoop.  And her mom found a note that I had written her that she had hidden in the bedpost of her daybed.  So, her mom expressly forbid her to stay at my house, or for us to walk out of work together, or to see us together, or basically anything that had to do with her mom seeing me for any reason.  Merry Christmas!!!

Christmas 2001 – 17 years old: Mom decides to stop outwardly celebrating Christmas..no tree, no decorations.. whatever… doesn’t really matter much to me anyways.  This was David and I’s first Christmas.  We had been dating 6 weeks.  I think I might have gone over to his parents for Christmas dinner, but I’m not really sure.  Regardless, his older sister was down from school.  First time I had met her (obviously since she didn’t live here)  Didn’t seem to go well, but then again none of David’s family had warmed up to me at all, except maybe his brother who didn’t really care. (Thanks Stephen!!!) Or maybe his dad who had come up to me shortly after we started dating and put his arm around my shoulders and said “So you’re the reason why my son is never home”  – Like I said his family hadn’t really warmed up to me, so we spent most of our time at my house or out doing something. So, the memorable part? His sister went home.  It had become apparent that his family didn’t know me, so I was invited to dinner one evening.  His dad wasn’t there so it was he and I, his then 14 yr old brother, his 10 yr old sister, and his mom.  So, we’re eating and out of nowhere his little sister says to me “I don’t like you. And mom and Jenn don’t like you either”  to which his mom replied “Lisa!” and to me “It’s not that we don’t like you it’s just that we don’t know you.”  So, that was then, this is now.  We got to know each other. Especially when 3 months later He and I moved in together after 4 1/2 months of dating and 2 months after we both turned 18.  SURPRISE!!!

Christmas 2002 – 18 years old: David and I are engaged.  We got engaged on our one year anniversary the middle of November. I talked to my dad for the first time in 3 years to tell him that I was getting married.  What does this have to do with Christmas?  I think I’m pregnant.  It’s eating at me, I was a mess.  worst.timing.EVAR.  HPT +  2 days before Christmas.  Yeah…we’re not gonna tell them..it’s Christmas.  We’ll wait a couple weeks.  So, middle of January, the day before David’s 19th bday, I start getting sharp pains in my belly that shoot down my leg and in my back and I’m freaking out.  So I make him come get me from work and take me to the ER.  We were there forever.  Partly because I ate a package of Peanut m&m’s in the waiting room.  When we told them that I might be preggers, the dr ordered a vaginal ultrasound….well.. they couldn’t do it for 4 hours after I had last eaten. Damn those M&M’s.  They did blood work… turns out that the couple of weeks pregnant I though I might be was actually about 9 weeks. And it was for sure.  No questions about it. I was pregnant. Me, pregnant (omg i’m going to Hell)  So, of course freaking out.  They said I had a UTI (woohoo)  but wanted the U/S still to make sure that the baby was ok.  So, around 2am finally got the u/s.  That made it real for me.  She was 4cm long looked like a little baby lizard minus the tail and had this little dark pulsing dot in her center. Her beating heart.  There was a live person growing inside of me. You are now entering the Twilight Zone?  Surprise!!!

Christmas 2005 – 21 years old: Had been back in touch with Dad since 2003, there’s a whole long story between then and now..but this is the Christmas story, so… He and Deb (FINALLY) got divorced earlier this year.  He had to have surgery on his abdomen the beginning on December so we made last minute plans to drive to KS to spend a week or so with him while he was recuperating, and what makes this Christmas hit the memorable radar?  It was the first time I had been to KS since I had left 6 years before (and the only time that I have been back in the 10 years that I have lived in FL.)  The other thing that made this Christmas memorable is that while we were away some rats moved into our house and took over.  And I mean this literally.  And they multiply quite quickly.  Angelina got bitten on New Year’s Eve. We had all gotten sick in KS and were like 3-4 days into antibiotics. Just in case though we called David’s mom who is an RN and has been since before David was born. She said basically the dr. would look at it and clean it and put her on an antibiotic.  So, rather than rush our 2 yr old to the ER in the middle of the night (coz it’s NYE, the dr’s offices are closed and it was a Saturday night at that) we took her in on Monday morning first thing when the quick care clinic opened again.  Dr. looked at it, made sure it was clean (it was) told us to make sure she finishes her antibiotic that she was already on, put some anti-bac ointment on it and keep it covered.  That was Monday.  Monday night, Angelina moved in with Grandmom and Poppop.  Mommy and Daddy hit up wal-mart for traps and poison and all the aggressive ways to get rodents out of the house.  Thursday night while I am at work, the Dept of Children and Families shows up with a Sheriff’s Deputy.  It all turned into a huge mess.  Ang wasn’t allowed to come home for a month, even tho within a week we had killed off all the stupid pests.  In the middle of all this we discovered that we also had termites.  So, the exterminator came to do the termite treatment (luckily it wasn’t the kind that u have to have the tent for…although that would have gotten rid of just about anything living in the house, I think.) DCF wanted an exterminator to come and inspect the house anyways to make sure the rats were gone.  The guy said that basically all they can do is look for droppings… if there are no droppings, there are no rodents.  House had just gotten rid of rats, termites and was thoroughly cleaned so we were good.  The inspector came from DCF and said that there were crumbs in the toaster which was a fire hazard, there were a couple of other nitpicky things, but basically said they would come back in a week to check again and that we needed to fix that stuff before then.  long story short… she came home after 4 weeks.  Then we had home supervision for a few months, a few court dates, and finally 6 months later were cleared and given our lives back.

Christmas 2007 – 23 years old: I’m going to keep this one short.  Read any of my blogs from 2007 and you will learn anything you need to know about Christmas 2007.  This is the only Christmas (so far) that I have personally screwed up.  And mostly it was the week between Christmas and New Year’s that was the problem, ending up with me telling David on NYE that I wanted to move out.  Again, blogs all about this circa early 2008.

Christmas 2009 – 25 years old: Oh Christmas! Again, Christmas kinda isn’t that great this year because we have no money.  Ang will be getting a ton of stuff, i’m sure.  Just not from us. Which makes me sad.  See, I had a mental breakdown in February and ended up in a psych hospital for a week.  Abandoned my job because I just couldn’t deal.  Am waiting for social security disability to be approved. (They should read my blog… it tells all about how screwed up I am) And while nothing “traumatic” has happened yet, I feel deflated.  I have been having a mild depressive episode since the beginning of December, and it has gotten progressively worse as the month goes on.  The meltdown commenced with “The Blog That Got Eaten”  (See: Die, Live Writer, Die! or Dammit!)  and has waxed and waned since then.  It is now 6:34 am on December 24.  I JUST realized the reason why I am still awake and have been writing all night is because I forgot to take my meds at 10pm last night.  What a way to start the actual holidays of being with lots of wrapping paper and in-law’s (Although I <3 them now) and FOOD. Oh, yeah…the food is good medicine.  Now if I could just sleep for a bit.
Merry Christmas!!!!!! (And I mean this for real, not sarcastically)
Now you know why Christmas is not such a great holiday for me.

Ahhh, Christmas Time! I hope you die. The 90’s

Ok, as promised, here is the very scary Jessica’s Christmas Carol.

Ah, yes… Christmases past:
These are the Christmases where something other than the norm happened (stepmom getting trashed at one of her various family member’s house)

The ’90’s

Christmas 1992 – 8 years old: I discovered there was no Santa.  I’m not exactly sure what was going on because back then I was so traumatized by the fact that there was no Santa to remember if she was drunk or not.  But, regardless, I was awoken in the night by a bump in the living room (which was right thru my very thin bedroom wall) so I sneaked to the door to look around the corner…and there is my dad’s GF (later to be stepmom) putting stuff under the tree with a cigarette in her mouth.  I went back to bed.


Christmas 1994 – 10 years old: This Christmas was just after my mom had sued my dad for custody of me, but 6 months before it went to court.  So, I went to Mom’s for Christmas vacation.  Came home, Dad and Deb(stepmom) picked me up from the airport.  We went somewhere to eat.  It was just the 3 of us.  So, we’re eating.  And I notice sparklies on Deb’s finger… They got married 3 days before and didn’t tell us (by us I mean the kids).  WTG, Dad!  Of course, it mostly made sense that they would do it while I was at my mom’s after she was in the process of trying to get custody of me.  She was married, I guess they thought it would be better if they were?  At least in court.  I was extremely upset.

Christmas 1997 – 13 years old:  Started out normal, we were at Deb’s sister’s house on Christmas Eve.  All the adults were drinking.  Deb got considerably trashed, as were her sister and mother. (Did I tell you her whole family were alcholics?)  So, it’s late..time to go home (which is like 30-45 min drive)  We all pile in the car, Dad’s driving… we get just outside of town and Deb wants to go to the liquor store.  So Dad says “It’s 12:30 at night on Christmas Eve no liquor stores are open” but did she listen? Nope. Tried to open the car door going 55mph down the highway saying she would walk to the liquor store.  So, finally convinced her that she couldn’t get out of the car.  We get home, go to bed (well us kids anyway). But I know I didn’t fall asleep… I know that Deb is “Santa” and I know she is completely shit-faced, and I know she’s in a wonderful mood (haha).  So, not sure exactly what time it was, but somewhere around maybe 2:30-3am and I hear a thump in the living room (which is a bit away from my room in this house) And I’m thinking to myself “great!”  so then, hear Dad come out…voices start getting raised, yelling ensues, Dad’s telling her to let him call her dad (who was pretty much the only person that could ever talk any sense into her when she was drunk) but she’s M.A.D. (Mad Ass Drunk) so instead at some point during all this she has a steak knife and I guess tries to use it on him.  Good thing she’s drunk (irony) because her aim was off.  So, 5 foot tall 100lb angry drunk woman with a steak knife..what should we do?  Ok, we need to restrain her!  Closest thing? Vacuum cleaner cord!!!  Awesome! Quick thinking.  I knew her OCD-ness about vacuuming the floors 3 times a day would come in handy.  So, he gets her tangled up in that long enough to call the sheriff’s dept.  They show up and have their wet muddy boots on and are leaving tracks on the linoleum floor! So she’s yelling at them telling them to take their boots off at the door and is down on the floor with a paper towel trying to clean up the footprints.  They go to “help” her up to take her out to the cruiser…but she is angry!  They made a mess of her floor, must.clean.floor. nevermind in doing so she is resisting arrest!  Chalk one up to drunken stupidness!!! So, then everyone get interviewed.  I come out in my jammies and (I think he was Sheriff at the time, not sure. His name is Gary) So Gary says to me “I haven’t seen you since you were about yea big.” And proceeds to hold his hand about 3 ft off the ground.  Did I mention that when I was 3 foot tall my mom’s mom worked as the dispatcher for the sheriff’s office?
So, Deb spends 48 hrs in county jail because Dad doesn’t press charges but “We’re getting divorced. I’m sick of this shit.” etc etc etc  So, she takes the boys and goes and stays with her mom for a few weeks, then she promises Dad that it won’t happen again, and they got back together shortly thereafter.

December 1998 – 14 years old.  I say December because this Christmas started a little early and we wouldn’t want to confuse it with New Year’s which will be the next paragraph.  So. December 4. I unexpectedly lost my virginity.  mmhmm.  by force. to the boy who lived in the bedroom next to mine. SURPRISE!!!!

1 month later – Still 14 years old: I get home from my mom’s.  But there was still a day or two until school started  again. or maybe we got a snow day. I dunno. That’s not important.  So, Deb and Dad both had to work.  And us kids are home, so rather than leave me home to watch them both, Deb takes the younger of her two sons to work with her.  Leaving me and above^mentioned home alone.  Now, in the month in between nothing had happened.  If anything things had gotten better?  See, starting somewhere about the middle or end of the sixth grade I got boobs.  And along with boobs I got boob molestation from… guess who? that just kinda progressed to kinda something else.  And that all stopped after December 4.  So, I wasn’t really thinking much about being home alone with him.  I mean, the first time, everyone was home, it was just the middle of the night.  So. We’re home alone.  We’re in his room, I think we were listening to a new CD he had gotten for Christmas (I think it might have been Creed?)  and he starts touching me.  And I remember kinda slapping his hand away and him getting mad.  And then I remember pain and him looking down and seeing blood and telling me that I’m disgusting. And then he got up and went into is bathroom, at which time i got up, went into my bathroom and locked myself in there until someone came home. SURPRISE!!!

Christmas 1999 – 15 years old: I was at my mom’s.  I had a boyfriend who lived down here who I had started dating when I was at my mom’s over the summer.  Also had a best friend who lived down here that I had made over the summer.  On the phone with BF and on IM with BFF, and we’re talking about the fact that I had to go home the next day (I think) And so of course I am loathe to go back to my dad’s because… New Year’s wasn’t the end of my surprises.  After an 8 month hiatus during the first part of 1999, In August after I get back from my mom’s stepbro decides that things should go back to “the way they were” I guess.  So, I get 1st Bf, am totally in L.O.V.E. (see previous post about flash fires) and things were looking up in August.  Then I guess stepbro decides now is a good time for things to pick back up.  And so they did, regularly. SURPRISE!!  But I digress… So BF and BFF know about this, don’t understand why I’m so terrified to tell someone that can do SOMETHING about it.  The problem is this:  If I tell Dad, there’s always the chance that he won’t really believe me and nothing will change.  Or, He will believe me and then tear stepbro apart limb by limb and then Dad will end up in prison. (ha)   Or, I could tell my mom.  I knew my mom would believe me, I knew that she would confront my dad for me, but for whatever reason I had it in my head that I would still have to go back to my dad’s.  Nevermind that I was almost 16 and I was being abused.   After much convincing from my BFF I told my mom.  She literally bounced off the wall she was so upset.  So, 2 points, I opened the can of worms that was my abuse, and ripped the stitches out of an old wound of mom’s because she was abused when she was younger.  Not.Good. Mom called him screaming at him about letting the drunk and her devil’s spawn into my life.  And him saying that she and I were making it up so I didn’t have to live with him anymore. I should have though of that before!!! OMG!!! If all it took was a little rape to get out of living with them, I should have cried that 4 years ago! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!! Surprise!!!!!

DAMMIT!

I think I am starting to hate Christmas. Not like the actual celebration, or the trees, or presents or whatever... it's just SO MUCH STUFF is associated with this time of year for me. Good and bad, both of which I wish I didn't remember.

Came home from the store today and told David that "FRUSTRATION" was the word of the week. It is it is it is. I will start with today and move backwards.

Today(Wednesday): Frustrated with the dr. because of Ang's cough and meds and whatever. Then, got a call from Walgreens that her rx's were ready so i'm like "yay the allergist called in the atarax for her itching!!" Yeah, no. He called in zyrtec and no atarax. We have an appt with him Monday so we'll see what happens. Frustrated because it's 3 am and I am up and I am writing this because I am frustrated about something that was frustrating yesterday (Tuesday) but we'll get there. And then after I announced frustrated as the word of the week we heard it mentioned several times on whatever shows Angelina was watching. (She has been watching the TBN kid's channel constantly! )

Tuesday: I don't remember much what happened before like 6pm. We had plans to go out to trivia at a local wings place (Name has been omitted for geographical reasons, will now be referred to as "trivia") So, 7pm I got in the shower. When I got out there were people in my house! Stephen was over (as I knew he was coming) and he brought Crystal!!!!!! Yay!!!!!!! So that was exciting. We got to trivia and David's brother was there and these two girls who are friends from camp and is friends with the family and with Stephen and people at church and whatever. So, they only had 2 booths for like a LOT of people. So me, David, Stephen, and Crystal commandeered the next booth over so we would have enough space for everyone coz David's brother (will now be referred to as "DB") said that his person, and that person, and you, and this other person's brother was coming too. ($%^&*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! coz I'm not having an emotionally terrible enough week as it is.)

I wanted to leave. But we brought Stephen and Crys and besides... after we sat down David said "did you hear?" and I said "I know." AWKWARD! And Stephen's all "yeah.." and Crys is like "What?!?! you don't have to tell me." and so of course I started to tell her and she said i didn't have to tell her and then David's parents showed up, thus killing the conversation. (Most of you are probably all WTF am I talking about so, read: From HERE and go chronologically forward several months, haha) So, we stayed. and we played trivia. The guys had some beer and Crys had a margarita and was extremely funny. I am glad that she came..because David kept going and sitting at the table with his parents, which was the one to the back of me. And Stephen kept going and squeezing into the 6 seater booth that was already holding like 10 people. Granted some of them are the size of small children...but still. So Crys and I were being loud and obnoxius and laughing and having a generally good time, but I kept having to turn around and tell Stephen and David to come back and stop abandoning us. Which in turn made me have to look at the back of your head. which is really insanely insane that it should bother me, but there it is. And we already know that I.Am.Not.Sane. I

So, I am sitting here, right now, 3:25am December 24, 2009 and am semi-hyperventilating over something that doesn't really even matter anymore to pretty much anyone else but me. Yeah, coz I'm not mental or anything. So, I was writing about old wounds in "The Blog That Got Eaten" on Friday. And you were one of them. Because iiiiiiiit'ssssssssss Christmasssssssssssss....

(It's from a Veggie Tales song) - See:

Oh! Santa - Silly Songs with Larry

So, anyway. I was thinking about how in songs love=flame, fire (something pyro related) And I have come to the conclusion... David is my slow burning fire, the one you curl up with on cold nights and just enjoy. A little flamey at first, but then just settles in and is lovely and comforting. That's it. He's my hearth fire. And then, I realized that every other love in my life has been a flash fire. The smoke builds up, gets too hot, and explodes, and is gone. Leaving charred remains and a skeleton of what was formerly a house (if it wasn't all burnt to ash). Fire that consumes the house, leaving it bare and in great need of being rebuilt. So. I'm frustrated. No, I am freaking ANGRY at myself for letting any of this matter. For being raw because it's Christmas.

I've gotten on the subject of frustration this last week... Let's say it started with "The Blog That Got Eaten" on Friday...and peaked around Tuesday and only has the next week to get through until next year. I want to talk about what Christmas is to me.

But, I am going to write a seperate post about this coz it will take a while.

Triaminic® Products | Chest & Nasal Congestion Medicine for Your Child’s Cold Symptoms

Why can’t I find this anywhere???  Srsly.  I found it once on accident.  Angelina Hates it. (Yes, with a capital H) It’s yucky, but it is the ONLY cold medicine I have found that doesn’t have a cough suppressant in it.  Doctor tells me “don’t give her anything with a cough suppressant in it because of her asthma”  So, do I give her nothing? Or chance it with the cough suppressant?
The doctor she saw today (not her usual doctor) tells me to “Just give her something over-the-counter” for her cough.  WTF?  So I ask if it’s ok for her to have the stupid cough suppressant or not because I haven’t been able to find ^above product^.  He says to give her albuterol twice a day.  I couldn’t figure it out.  And then David says… “He meant along with the cold medicine..the albuterol will keep her lungs open so the cough suppressant doesn’t leave the mucus to build up in her lungs”
I’m glad someone explained it to me.  Because I srsly I am thinking “He said her lungs were clear so why am I giving her asthma meds for a post-nasal drip cough?”  Of course this was explained after I had already been to the store and had picked up some sudafed and regular robitussin (expectorant).  Which whatever, it works..just means she has to take two meds instead of one.  Still probably spent less than I would have to buy that one small bottle of Triaminic.  And I got a big bottle of generic robitussin and generic sudafed tabs.
Anyways, I’m sure she would rather take the two meds instead of having to do her nebs twice a day.  le sigh.  When will life be easy?

Die Live Writer, DIE!

F***!!!!!!
I AM EXTREMELY PISSED OFF ANGRY RIGHT NOW. I SPENT THREE AND A HALF HOURS WRITING IN MY BLOG, I HAVE AUTO-SAVE, THE THING CRASHED, BUT WHEN I CAME BACK IT SAID THAT THERE WAS A POST, BUT WHEN I OPEN IT IS IT ONLY THE TITLE AND NO CONTENT.   3 1/2 HOURS OF ME RIPPING APART MY GUTS TO GET IT OUT OF ME AND IT GOT EATEN BY STUPID WINDOWS LIVE WRITER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   INSTEAD OF FEELING BETTER ABOUT GETTING OLD SHIT GARBAGE OUT I NOW FEEL LIKE I AM IMPLODING.  I CAN'T DO IT AGAIN.  AND THAT F***ING BOULDER IS SITTING ON MY CHEST RIGHT NOW.  THE UNIVERSE HATES ME.  IT'S THAT SIMPLE.



Edit: I used a lot of language in this post because it suited my mood.  I dunno what it is about screaming obscenities when you're angry, but I am still angry, but more constructively I guess.  More to come.

Two posts in one day? No way!

I have been reading a LOT of blogs in the past few days.  I am finding it quite enlightening.  I am a rambler.. and I kind of feel guilty about that because I have been leaving rambly comments on stranger’s blogs. 

If anyone reading this is one of the people who got a long rambling comment from me then I apologize.  I have never been a “facts only” type of person.  I write in a roundabout way, because that’s the way my head works.  I get so distracted with the idea of what I want to say, and I end up just confusing a lot of people who don’t follow my train of thought and can’t make any logical sense of what I am saying.  Even my shortened versions are still much longer than the average person’s average thought/reply/whatever.

Online Blogs Are Lame.

I am kind of upset right now.  I took all this time to make my own font.  This is my handwriting.  But then when I go on WordPress, Blogger, LJ… They don’t give you the OPTION to change your font.  Or if it does (blogger) the fonts are the boring Times New Roman, Arial, etc. That have zero personality and quite honestly sometimes make me crazy.  I like to customize.  I feel more comfortable writing how I want to.  What’s the point in spilling my guts to the general public if I can’t at least let it LOOK like me when the guts are spilled (lol)  Anyways, I’m ranting.  Has nothing to do with this blog (unless you count me getting all upset over something stupid like the fact that I can’t pick my OWN font)

 

Anyways, if anyone is interested in doing this as well the website is: http://www.fontcapture.com/    there isn’t a fancy program that you have d/l, or programs to run.  You simply print out a sheet, fill in the blanks with your own handwriting, scan the image, upload it to the site, name it, sample it by typing stuff in to see if the letters look ok together… if so then u D/L the font to ur computer into your fonts folder and you’re good to go :D 

 

I really hope that since I’m using Live Writer and my custom font shows up on here that when I post it will be the same.. most likely not tho :(

 

Happy something-or-other.

 

Edit:  It actually posted with this font!! Awesome, something happened that I wanted it to.  Okay blog, I want $15,000.  Yeah, that should do it.  I accept cash, check, paypal, money order.. I’m not picky.. just give me monies, plz?

 

P.S.  It tells you to write the letters in a sharpie.. if you do it comes out looking like this BOLD, so I would suggest (unless of course you want bold font) that you actually use a thick tipped pen (like a felt pen) or a thin sharpie.Once you’ve made the font it allows you to resize it use italics and underlines and I think bold..but I can’t really tell coz my writing is already bolded.

What the HELL was I thinking? O, right. I wasn’t thinking.

I had a terrible terrible terrible day yesterday.  I didn’t sleep Tuesday night.  I had planned to sleep yesterday while Angelina was at school. Only problem – I got a phone call at 9:30 that she was scratching and couldn’t stop, and she tells me she has a cough and needs to go to the dr.  So, I got in the shower, planning to take her cream to the school and put it on her.  Got a call from David while I was in the shower.  Ang’s teacher had called and said that she thought Angelina was just trying to get out of doing her work.  David’s opinion is that I not go get Ang and take her out of school.  So, I went to the school with the cream.  She didn’t want it.  I told her I wasn’t taking her home and that there wasn’t anything more that I could do for her at home but to put the cream on her.  So, she said ok. Took one little dot and put it on one of her knuckles and said she was ok. 

So, by the time I got home it was almost 11.  Around noon I just couldn’t stay awake anymore so I went and slept a couple of hours.  When she got home I laid down again, and slept until about 8:30 or 9.  I woke up with a terrible headache so I took some Tylenol.  After putting it back in the medicine cabinet I realized that probably a big part (if not the entire) problem was that I hadn’t taken my medicine!!  Possibly for a few days.  I really don’t remember.  I have like 4 weeks worth of medication holders (like the week ones) And my last one had finished on Saturday (Saturday’s medicine was still in it) and hadn’t been refilled.  I have had a really bad couple of weeks and I guess I have just been so whatever that I didn’t think to refill my med containers.  Thus screwing up my meds which just screws everything up all the more.

So, I was up about an hour or an hour and a half then went back to bed.  I woke up about 7 this morning and felt MUCH better.  Got Ang off to school and have just been lounging.  Then… around noon, I feel like poo again.  I took my meds last night, I took them this morning, I will take them in an hour, and I will take them tonight.  So why do I still feel like this??  I almost wonder if on some subconscious level that I didn’t take them because I was feeling all depressed and crappy-like with the meds so something in there said “What do I need you for any way? You’re not helping.” and just blocked it out that I hadn’t taken them. 

I texted David earlier to tell him that I was sorry about yesterday, and that today I felt better.  Said that I guess now I know that they’re at least doing something. Now I want to know why they’re not making it all better?  They’re obviously doing something for me, but I don’t understand why there’s still so much that isn’t being covered by the plethora of meds that I take.  It should at least make me feel better knowing that I’m not taking them for nothing,  but it doesn’t.  It makes me feel like there’s so much more wrong with me that isn’t being/can’t be fixed.  And what sucks even more than that realization is the fact that I don’t like my pdoc, and I doubt that he would be helpful.  He would probably just think that I’m looking for more meds, or less meds, or …something.  I dunno. 

Not that the following is an excuse, but:  I am starting to understand why some people choose to self medicate with drugs or alcohol.  I’m not. I won’t. But I am starting to understand why someone would do that.  Coz it makes me feel like shit to know that I’m doing things the right way (taking my prescribed meds (mostly) like I’m supposed to, not physically hurting myself) and I still feel like crap.  So, I understand why some people can’t deal with that and instead choose to block it out with stuff that makes their brain mush.  Coz if you get to a certain point of F*cked up, you stop realizing how f*cked up your life is, I guess. 

I guess I’m not so far gone since I can rationally see that that is not an option. 

This post was supposed to have a point. O, yeah.  Don’t do drugs. Unless, of course, they’re the ones prescribed to you.  In that case, do take drugs… and often.  And don’t forget. 

I am expanding.

I have started many different blogs, most with the same content, but have lost some of the people that occasionally pass through and garner something from my musings, even if it is 5 minutes they will never get back.

So, to avoid anyone missing out, I am now using Windows Live Writer and will be cross posting everything across my whole blogosphere.

 

So, If you’re reading this you can find me at the following places:

 

www.rainydayrants.blogspot.com

www.rainydayramblings.wordpress.com

http://rainydayramblings.web.officelive.com

Rainy Day Ramblings on Facebook

http://falloutmommy.livejournal.com/

 

 

You can also e-mail me anytime at: rainydayramblings@att.net

Paralyzed

I hate feeling like this.  Although I’m not ever really very specific on what this is.  This changes from day to day.  Today this is physical.  I am making myself physically ill with so much stress and worry, and I’m not sleeping right.  I either sleep too much at the wrong times, or not at all when I should be.  And for whatever reason, when I feel this way I always seem to be drawn to my budget, I guess hoping that something has changed.

 

It’s entirely paralyzing.  The more money we need, the more stressed I am about it, and the harder it is for me to function.  I’m so tired of all of it.  I’m tired of waiting for a judge to decide whether or not I am disabled.

 

I HATE my new psychiatrist.  He said some things to me that may have had merit to them, but he didn’t stop to listen for a response to his solutions to my problems.  He told me that my tiredness was due to laziness.  Now, to a certain degree I agreed with him, but he just ran right over me when I told him that it wasn’t JUST that…because before I was on the meds that make me tired and I was working, I was still tired ALL THE TIME.  I can’t even imagine what it would be like to try to get through a work day feeling like I feel most days.  He told me to get out of the house… well I do.  And usually I return to the house extremely worn down and feeling like I don’t want to go out again for a while. 

 

I need to get a job.  We need money.  I don’t even know what to do.  I want to believe that I can, but then I think about how bad I had gotten when I was working.  I’ve gotten so lost inside that I don’t know how to find me.  Feels like I’m playing Operation, only on myself and I keep putting the pieces in the wrong places.  I hate feeling like my stomach is eating itself.  And like I need to be ok, because I can’t go back to the hospital because David would be left to pay the bills and go grocery shopping and there isn’t any money.  The more I try to BE ok, the less ok I feel. 

 

I don't know.  My schedule is off so my meds are off and maybe this is all just a result of that.  It shouldn’t be like this.  And it’s not even like I’m doing it on purpose.  It’s all just … wrong.  And I just feel all wrong.  My mood ring is black.  It has been black for the past 3 days.  before that it was very dark blue.  I haven’t seen green in a long time.  I always thought it was a joke…about mood rings being black..because the only colors I had ever seen were green and blue and the occasional yellowish color. 

 

I didn’t sleep last night.  I never really felt tired.  and now I just feel sick.  And I know I should probably go lie down, but I know if I do I will sleep all day and feel terrible, or I will sleep for a few hours and feel terrible, or I won’t sleep and still feel terrible.  At least this way I get to see my family.  The past several weekends have been me asleep all day.  This past week has been me on the sofa napping or watching TV.  The house is a mess, the laundry needs to be done.  But I can’t seem to get through this funk. 

 

Nothing matters right now except that there’s not enough and it’s all my fault.   It’s my fault that this happened to me.  That I am this way.  That I am not motivated enough to overcome it.    My fault that my family is suffering.  My fault that I can’t even go out and buy my daughter any Christmas presents.    and just my year that the one person that was willing to help with no explanation needed (because she KNEW)  can’t help.  My fault that I am beating myself up over it, but also my fault because I am trying to face it.  Even if that’s all I can do, acknowledge that it is there. 

 

Money.  That’s what it all boils down to.  I am afraid David will have a breakdown next.  Trying to work, and having to deal with me, and all the stuff that I’m not dealing with. 

 

So, Santa, if you’re reading this.

I’d really like $10,000 and a yes from social security for Christmas… or at least for my birthday.

Quiz Result. The True Believer

You've been through a lot in your life. Broken and bruised, you still keep going. You tend to hold promises dear to yourself. You would never lie to yourself. You believe in people and you see the true beauty in everything. Family and friends,... whether small or big, you keep them close to you; they mean everything to you. You couldn't bear to break anyone; it would hurt you the most. You don't believe in happy endings, but you do believe that there is always light to every dark; hope to every lost cause; beauty in the filth; two sides to every story. You believe that no one should be alone; you've been through that as well. Congratulations, true believer; keep being honest to yourself and others. Let no one tell you otherwise. You walk a long road, believer... Don't stop..

When Will the Underwhelm Overcome the Overwhelm?

I wish that I could be underwhelmed.  I have been bored.  I have been disinterested.  But at my darkest moments I am still overwhelmed.  I become overwhelmed with dark, with black, with sad, with impenetrable fog.  But no underwhelm. 
When I am not depressed I am “Blah.”  This is my answer almost every time my psychiatrist asks.  I need therapy.  I need a professional to talk to, to explain to, who might have, if not an answer, some suggestions at  least.  But alas, there is no money to pay the bills, so there definitely is no money to pay a therapist.  This morning while doing the budget I was seriously considering not paying for the psychiatrist and the pills that don’t really seem to be helping.
Again, I am being sucked down.  Today I go from blah to completely overwhelmed by so much that I can’t even sort out what hurts.  My chest hurts.  It feels like someone punched a hole in it.  It hurts to breathe.  So then I hyperventilate, which makes it worse, which makes me cry and hurt terribly all over again.  Putting it down in words is making me cry.  I seem to have sprung a leak.  There is no emotion behind the tears. Just emptiness.  And a lump in my throat the size of Texas that also makes it hard to breathe. 
Sometimes I feel nothing.  But I still outwardly emote.  Or maybe I feel something but I don’t know what it is so it is emptiness to me.  Maybe that is my underwhelm?  whywhywhywhywhywhywhy can’t I function like a human being?  David is tiptoeing around me… he said if I wanted to play Lady Gaga on the stereo it was ok.  That’s a big deal.  He pretty much despises Lady Gaga.  He says she is annoying. :\
I don’t know what else to say.  I love this record, baby, but I can’t see straight anymore.  Keep it cool. What’s the name of this club? I can’t remember but it’s alright, alright. Just Dance.

Polar Opposites

Recently a friend of a friend's son died in a car accident.  He was half of a set of 2 or 3 year old twins.  I do not know the kids or the mother, other than for her to have been spoken of by my friend.

I am not quite sure what train of thought brought me to it... but I was thinking... I don't understand how she could already go back to school, and out with friends (even if it was to drink away her sorrows).  She has another child to care for and maybe that plays a role in not being completely non-functional.

I said to David, "I don't understand it.  I don't understand how someone could just pick themselves up that quickly after something like that.  I would be an absolute mess."  I mean this in no way to be judgmental of this person because everyone grieves in their own way... and she has other responsibilities.  But it is hard for me to wrap my head around because I couldn't do it.

What Your Sleep Personality Says About Your Waking Life

How personality, sleep, and health are intertwined.

By Maia Szalavitz for MSN Health & Fitness

Sleep and who you are

Freud called dreams the “royal road” to the unconscious—and at least as far back as biblical times, dream interpretation has been used in attempts to predict the future or discover hidden truths about our inner lives.

While modern research on sleep and dreaming makes smaller claims, it turns out that you can learn more than you’d expect about both health and personality by looking at various aspects of your sleep and dreaming life.

The Early-to-Bed, Early-to-Rise Sleeper

The varied nature of animal life can be used to illustrate several different sleep styles. The first style—the lark—is a morning bird, your basic get-up-and-go type. If you wake up brimming with energy, sometimes even before the alarm clock rings, you’re a lark. Early to bed, early to rise, larks are well suited to the structure of the 9 to 5 workday. 
“Larks tend to be go getters but they’re not gregarious,” says Michael Smolensky, MD, co-author of The Body Clock Guide to Better Health, and visiting professor at the University of Texas, “They tend to be introverted, and are overall more conscientious and disciplined.”
Sometimes this can cause friction at work, Smolensky notes. “Larks tend to want to get to work early and are highly productive in the morning. This gets people jealous, especially when larks are working with late-risers.”
Women are more likely to be larks than men, at least in Western cultures—and older people become are more lark-like as they age.
The lark personality is also more depression-prone than those who are late-risers.

The Late-to-Bed, Late-to-Rise Sleeper

If you’re more productive, alive, and energetic at night, you’re an owl. Your alarm clock—if you even have one—is likely buried under a pillow. Smolensky describes a classmate who would call wake-up services, set multiple alarms to ring and blast music, yet was still unable to get out of bed in the morning. Even though he forced himself to stay in when he had morning classes, he still couldn’t fall sleep early at night—and had to drop out of graduate school. Fortunately, most owls aren’t that extreme.
Owls are best left undisturbed before they've had their cup of coffee. In contrast to larks, low moods typically occur upon awakening, but mid-morning and late evenings are creative peaks.  
“Owls seem to be more outgoing and social,” says Smolensky, “They also tend to be risk-takers.” 
Teenagers are notorious owls—at puberty, the body clock changes and even those who tend to be lark-like become more nocturnal until their mid to late 20s, when they revert to their more usual patterns.
Though most owls are able to adjust to the 9-5 work routine, extreme night owls may feel completely out of synch in such an environment. Consider a night shift, or a job you can do from home, on your own schedule.

The Long Sleeper

Another way in which our sleep styles vary involves how long we like to sleep. If you crave a lot of sleep—even more than eight hours per night—it's likely you fall into the category of “people who need people,” as the Streisand song goes.
Norah Vincent, PhD Associate Professor and clinical psychologist at the University of Manitoba in Canada conducted a large study examining the relationship between sleep and personality in nearly 6,000 Americans.

"People who were more reliant on others for good feelings about themselves tend to sleep significantly longer,” she says, noting that there's nothing abnormal about this, it's just a measure on which people vary significantly.
However, long sleepers do have a tendency towards depression, a condition that is also very sensitive to the amount of social support people have in their lives. Staying in close touch with family and friends improves health for virtually everyone—but long sleepers should keep these ties strong and active.

The Necessity Sleeper

Are you the type who rarely sleeps eight hours? In fact, you can't imagine staying in bed that long? According to Vincent’s research, many individuals who sleep fewer than eight hours a day have a tendency to be highly self-critical. This could because "you’re having harsh thoughts about yourself when you wake up during the night and when you attempt to fall asleep," she says. 
Alternatively, the connection might be a result of being anxious in general. "You might tend to sleep shorter because you are in a chronic state of tension," she says.
Both over-sleeping and under-sleeping are associated with a higher than usual risk of death.  No one has explained the connection with long sleep—but short sleep is known to increase blood pressure, which raises the risk for heart disease and stroke.
To improve short sleep linked with anxiety and self-criticism, Vincent suggests separating "worry time" and bedtime.
"We ask [patients] to schedule a time to have worrisome thoughts several hours before bedtime," she says. "It sounds very simplistic but even just the act of focusing on the thought makes it easier to defer having it."  Patients tell themselves, 'This isn’t the time to deal with this, I’ll postpone it till tomorrow when I have set aside time to deal with these kinds of thoughts.'

The Peaceful Sleeper

If you sleep like a log, you probably have an attitude of gratitude. A study of 161 people published in the Journal of Psychosomatic Research found that those who focus on what they have—not what they lack—fall asleep faster and sleep more soundly. Grateful people are also less tired and more functional during the day.

Why would being grateful affect your sleep? The researchers found that this was related to the thoughts people had as they drifted off. Being thankful led to faster, deeper sleep.
“People who are feeling more grateful are less tense and anxious, because the two are incompatible,” says Vincent. “A mental state like that at bedtime would be helpful for your sleep.”

The Restless Sleeper

If you find yourself counting sheep, watching late night TV, swinging from branch to branch in your thoughts, or working into the night because you can’t sleep, consider your need for perfection or control.
While a perfectionist may be successful in many situations, this trait isn’t useful in the realm of sleep and relaxation. A controlling nature may also set the stage for long struggles when it comes to difficulties sleeping.
“We found that certain aspects of perfectionism are elevated in people with chronic insomnia,” says Vincent. “People who expect a lot of themselves and who don’t meet their own personal standards are more likely to have insomnia.” A perfectionist approach to sleeping itself—like an exaggerated sense of one’s ability to control things—can cause problems.
"If you believe that you are responsible for most outcomes and then you don’t have success in one area, there is a tendency to engage in self-blame and self-deprecation," says Vincent.  This produces greater anxiety, which makes it even harder to fall asleep.
To break the cycle, recognize that there are only some aspects of your sleep environment that you can control. “We use a cognitive-behavioral approach and talk about what parts of sleep are controllable,” says Vincent, “You can’t control when you get sleepy but you can control whether you have a lot of coffee in the evening and the amount of light in the bedroom.”
If you struggle with insomnia, begin with recognizing your limits and accepting them as a normal part of life. Focus on the positives of you day as you prepare for bed and you may find that sleep comes easier. 

The Dreaming Sleeper

Can you vividly recall your dreams each morning? Your sleep style indicates that you are likely highly creative in your waking life.
"People with an intensely high level of dream recall have something called 'thin borders,'" says James Pagel, MD, Director of the Sleepworks Laboratory in Colorado Springs, Colorado. "That means that for them, everything is in shades of grey, there's not whole lot of black or white. They’re not purely Democrats or Republicans; they are not quite asleep or awake and they define much of their lives in that way."
Such people tend to be odd and quirky—and although most are perfectly normal, they are at higher risk than others for schizophrenia.

The Dreamless Sleeper

Until recently, it was widely accepted that all people dream—except, perhaps those with certain brain injuries. However, researchers have discovered that there are some people who appear to have no dreams at all—or at least, they never remember any.  While you may worry that something is wrong with your memory, research indicates there’s no connection.
“Nine percent of people will say they don’t have dreams,” says Pagel, “When we specifically question them, 'Do you really not dream?'” most will say, 'Well, my last dream was years ago,' but a small number of people—2 in 1000—say they have never ever dreamed.”
Pagel compared a group of non-dreamers to rare dreamers in a sleep lab, waking them up during various stages of sleep. About 10 percent of the rare dreamers did report having at least one dream—but the others did not. 
“One was a math professor,” says Pagel, “Most of them had jobs and were very functional.  There was nothing wrong with their memory, no abnormalities.” 
So, if you don’t dream, don’t worry.  It’s not known if people who never remember dreaming truly don’t dream, or just can never remember any elements of dreams—but it doesn’t seem to be a problem.

Gaga oo lala

So, today I was reading a blog that I follow.  The person, who shall remain anonymous, had listed a link for a song that thye had stuck in their head.  Now, I clicked on said link and it took me to YouTube and....  "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga.  Now, I recently have been enjoying her music coz it's catchy and upbeat..and you can't help but to MOVE to it. (Ok, I use it as motivation to CLEAN the house)  But anyways... I am watching the video (which I had never seen before) and I was totally like WTF?  It's creepy.  So, of course I had to watch ALL of her videos.  They were all pretty weird.  And I realized a very common theme... sex.  Her music videos are almost soft core pr0n.  With a weird twist...  So with all that said.. I have Lady Gaga stuck.in.my.head.

I even went to the store earlier... and nothing good was on my regular station so i went to a back up... "Just Dance" was playing so, I'm driving and car dancing.. etc... so the song is over.. and I go back to my reg. station...... 'Paparazzi" was playing... Just when "Bad Romance" was just getting outta my head.  Dammit!

Miserable

Friday, David and I went and got our flu shots... my arm was hurting up until last night/this morning.  David's arm was bothering him as well over the weekend.

So, Friday night Mr. Smith couldn't join us as he was doing homework so David's brother, Stephen, came over.  Around 9 or so he asked if we cared if Ethan came over.  Now, this is weird because people don't COME to our house.  We have a very small inner circle consisting of us, Stephen Smith, sometimes Stephen G., occasionally Lisa (David's sister) but that's really it.  I don't like people in my house.  So Stephen asked if it was ok, I said yeah, whatever.  So then our group had an extra person.

Issues!!

I am having issues with the layout of my blog... please excuse us while we try to fix this problem.  My side bar is showing at the bottom... if anyone knows how to FIX this..plz lemme know!

Edit:  I didn't "fix" it..but I at least made it viewable.  

I'm losing my mind...cont'd

I was doing somewhat better with being irritable all the time and yelling and throwing temper tantrums, but in the past couple of months the psycho has been creeping back in. It hits me at weird times. This past week I was going through the monthly hormonal flux and I have been completely psycho. I know I have, but I can't control it. It isn't all the time, it just HAPPENS.

I'm losing my mind... for real this time.

I know I often say that I am losing my mind or going crazy or whatever when I am not feeling well or am stressed. But lately I have literally been losing my mind. My cognitive function is HORRIBLE lately. My pdoc switched me off my zoloft and on to wellbutrin SR because she was concerned that the zoloft wasn't treating my depression effectively. I messed the switch up a little bit because I started tapering off the zoloft but didn't start the wellbutrin for a week later after I felt like crap and realized that I was supposed to up the wellbutrin as I was downing the zoloft.

Stolen from Crys's LJ

pick 25 words describing what you ARE
and 25 words describing what you AREN'T,
and another 10 describing what you wish you WERE.
post this, and see who agrees,
and who disagrees!

I'm tired.

I want to start this post off by saying that I know that there are people who will read this and know that I am talking about them. I am not trying to start shit. I am not trying to be mean, or flippant, or whatever. I just need to vent, and it is meant at people in general and not necessarily anyone specific.

Meds Schmeds

So, had an appt with Dr. C last Thursday. Got hit with a whammy. Apparently, the insurance NOW decides that I have to pay $60 a visit when for the past 5 months I have been paying $20. so not only was I supposed to come up with $60 when I was expecting to pay $20, but I also have a back balance of $150. WTF? So, I freaked out, started crying, and basically said that I guess I need to cancel my appt and find a new dr (not at all maliciously because I LOVE my pdoc) which made me feel even worse, because I NEEDED my meds. This was my month to get new scripts on everything.

Sixth Sense?

I forgot I had started this post a few months ago. It's very interesting and does somewhat describe me. I don't have a lot of friends tho because I tend to only allow transient friendships.

Feeling is your sixth sense. Called clairsentient (clear feeling), your inner voice is one that touches on your empathetic nature. What does this mean? Well, you're probably the most emotional of your friends and you are very in touch with the feelings of others. As a clairsentient, you often know something is wrong because you experience an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach (or the opposite for good things). It might be that your friend has had a bad day--but hasn't told anyone--and somehow you just know what's going on. Often this type of intuitive knowledge cannot be explained. We bet you've got a bunch of friends, and who wouldn't want a friend that just knows without being told...especially on those bad days.

Psycho much? - Edited

So… I haven’t blogged in almost a month. A couple weeks ago David and I got into an argument about whose responsibility it was for different household chores and lawn work. The house was a mess and he was playing on the computer and had said he was going to mow the lawn (only he didn’t because the tire on the lawn mower was flat) So, I asked him to help me clean up the house. We kind of got into it because his response was basically that I am home all day every day and he goes to work every day during the week and basically that housework shouldn’t be his responsibility. So, we went into our bedroom to talk. I could see where he was coming from, it does seem unfair to him, I know that… but I am not doing this on purpose. I don’t want to be mentally ill, and I don’t want to be tired all the time from the medicines I take to make me “less” ill. Well… during our argument and me trying to make him understand that I am not choosing to put everything onto him, I just CAN’T do it. Some days I can, other days I cannot. His reaction was basically that he didn’t believe that I couldn’t just that I wouldn’t because I didn’t “feel like it” and that I just didn’t WANT to do it, or that I won’t do it. So this turned into more of an argument. I started staring at the wall and semi-tuning him out because I didn’t want to hear what he was saying…I already knew what he was saying, and I knew that it was his perception of what was going on. It was one of those times when the understanding wasn’t there, and the trying to understand, or the acceptance that he didn’t understand wasn’t enough.

Double Edged Sword

This evening (ok it's 2 a.m....shh!) I was browsing around on Amazon.com for bargain books related to bipolar disorder. I had to chuckle to myself at the books that basically implied that the pharmaceutical companies were behind the diagnoses of mental illness in America.

First off, I have bipolar disorder and am being treated with psychotropic medications. I also have been a certified pharmacy technician since 2005 and have seen and dealt with a great many people being treated with medications. No one HAS to take a medication. You have the right to refuse it when your doctor prescribes it. You have the right to not fill the prescription. You have the right to not buy the prescription if it is too costly and you don't really want to take it anyway.

I feel... nothing.

Life is going on around me. I don't really care. None of it means anything to me right now. I simply am. And they simply are. Simply are here to just not let me be. Have a dr's appt thursday... maybe Dr. C can give me some insight into why I feel worse instead of better? Haven't been feeling physically well the past couple of days either. Was supposed to have my CT scan done a while ago.. have an appt with Dr. S next Tuesday. I don't know if I'll go. What's the point? I didn't have the CT. I didn't have bloodwork. Dr. C is prescribing all my meds that aren't OTC. I'm tired of being reminded that I'm sick and they're not doing anything. I will continue to see Dr. C every month because I know that even though I am not well now... I could be worse without it at all. I have stopped taking my Strattera. I have no desire to put anything more into my system that I don't absolutely need. It's not keeping me alive..or improving anything. Might be an option if I ever have to go back to work and be functional. I'm so tired. So very very tired. Wish I could sleep forever. Can't wait til school starts...peace and quiet during the day.. no one to bug me except myself. Don't want to go anywhere. Don't want to stay home. Just want quiet. Want to be left alone...if even just for a little while. Want to be able to stay in bed, and not have to shower or get dressed or eat or anything. But I have a headache. That's what happens when I think too much about staying in bed. Or if I sleep too much. The headaches. I have one now. Angelina is singing and it is driving a nail into my skull. It's hard to write about how I feel inside when no one notices so much on the outside. I'm down. I haven't gotten dressed. But I am still coherent (for the most part) and responsive. Don't want to be a burden. Feel like such a fraud when I say I'm sick. I am. But it's not tangible... It's not something you can take a blood test for. I feel sick today. so tired. need a nap.

Life Was Going Okay Until Life Got In The Way

I have not worked since February of this year. I have posted several different posts on why this is so, so I won't bore you with the details. I have had quite a setback today. I got the letter from our mortage company saying we were in default. And although it was something that we realized was a possibility when we discussed my not going back to work and waiting for the disability system to do its thing; it still throws many many shadows of my perception of reality lately. I knew that the letter would come. I had to give it to David. I CAN'T handle it. I know I haven't paid that bill since June, but I guess a part of me though that it would just go away or get overlooked by the mortgage company. So like the ostrich, I stuck my head in the sand. I feel badly for putting that burden on David, especially because I'm sure they have regular 9-5 business hours and David is working during that time. I SHOULD be able to handle this. I SHOULD do it. it SHOULD be my responsibility. But, I CAN'T do it. Not that I won't. I CAN'T. I used to be able to. I used to be the one that answered the phone calls and made call backs for bills or creditors or whatever. I handled the dr's offices, and setting up appointments, and keeping everyone's schedule together. It failed.

*Chirp*chirp*

Hey all, I have been MIA for a while now, my daughter is home on summer vacation. Have been doing alright I guess. can't wait for school to start and having my peace and quiet back during the day. Today was a really bad day. The past month or so I have been doing worse instead of better. Not really depressed or manic, but just apathetic and "numb" as my psychiatrist described it. Have been doing not well enough that my husband accompanied me on my last p-doc appt to voice his concerns. I feel so bad because he worries about me so much sometimes. My p-doc changed some of me medicines around at my last appt and my schedule is all messed up, I haven't been sleeping well and am no longer on any kind of sleep/wake schedule. I have made myself a cocoon. I am to the point where I don't really leave the house except to go grocery shopping once a week. I am not afraid to go out... I just have no desire to go anywhere.

"How to Lose Friends and Alienate People"

I think that was the title of a movie recently... I haven't seen it though.

This story hits a little closer to home. A few weeks ago David's dad was approached by one of the men from our church who told him that Angelina's school had reported us to the Dept. of Children and Families. We kinda poo-pooed it because HOW would this person know that before we did? He is in no way to connected to her school or to DCF... unless he was the one reporting us for some unknown reason. Nothing happened...

It's been a day.

We'll keep it at a day. Am in California visiting my mom. Am SO tired...SO tired. Flight left at 6:20AM EST Friday, we went to bed around 9pm thursday, David fell right asleep but I tossed and turned for 2 hours..finally got up and went on the computer for a bit. Angelina got up and joined me about 12 or so. At 1:30am I'm like..we have to get up at 3am...we need to sleep. So we laid on the couch and I dozed for about 45 minutes I guess... Ang got up and was in the chair then just..up. Got up, got David up to shower and whatnot. Got dressed and ready to go. We left the house about 3:45am. Went to McD's and got coffee..that is a whole other story. Got to the airport about 5-5:15 got the bags checked and said our good-byes. Angelina and I made our way through security and out to the gates. Angelina was complaining about wanting a snack as we walked by all the gift shops, so we stopped at the burger king in the terminal and had breakfast. Finished breakfast and got to the gate shortly after they started boarding.

Mood Swings;Schmood Schwings

I feel like I am possibly doing a bit better overall. I still am up and down, up and down. My mood journal looks like crap. I’m grouchy and irritable and TIRED ALL THE TIME and have NO motivation to do anything except sit here and do stupid stuff on the computer. I feel like I have this “whatever” kind of attitude at this point. I am stressed about money but at the same time I am like…eh. I just don’t seem to CARE about much at all recently. I just feel like maybe a shell of myself. Like “does any of it even matter?” I’m not suicidal, I don’t want to end it all. I just really don’t seem to care right now. I can’t say that the anxiety or panic attacks are gone, so obviously I DO care. But most of the time I am totally just “eh, whatever” and then sometimes it all just overwhelms me and I end up on the kitchen floor hyperventilating and bawling my eyes out. That is always fun. It’s weird, I have emotions, I am worried, I get upset, I get irritable, I get “funny” and sarcastic and witty. But I feel like I have ceased to really FEEL anything. I have entered that “empty” phase where nothing seems to really matter. Or maybe it’s just today that I feel that way.

Bleh. Crosspost from my mood journal..kinda rambly

So today was ok, got up and went to church, but right after the people descended upon me, I got out as quick as I could and went and waited in the car. I can't deal with the people anymore. We have not been going to church much for the past 6 months or so, and even less since me quitting my job. I can't stand everytime we go and at least 1 person is always like "Are you ok? Feeling better?" NO! I'm not feeling better... I had a nervous breakdown and tried to kill myself and quit my job and now stay at home all day and try not to be around anyone but my family and people that I am close enough to that I previously felt comfortable to have into my house. ( we DON'T have people over.... especially not family. If you've ever come over to my house you are the rare exception.)

Who Is That Girl I See Staring Straight Back At Me?

So, after posting last night about how my husband was so supportive and understanding that this illness isn't ME, we had a confrontation. I was so "hyper" yesterday but I got nothing accomplished. I didn't clean the kitchen as he had asked me to, i only did one load of laundry that didn't even make it into the dryer until about 9pm. I fell asleep around 6pm and woke up at 9pm.

So Much For My Happy Ending

I am very disappointed this week. Got my letter from Social Security Disability - DENIED! I was kind of expecting this but it still makes me very angry and upset.

The Lord Works In Mysterious Ways

This is something that I posted to my support group this morning, and just wanted to add to my blog so that it is easier to find when I am feeling low and like I am alone in the world.

I have been reflecting a bit this morning, and I have come to the conclusion

that God is watching out for me. There are SO many groups/ support group sites

that address bipolar. But I was referred to this one. This Christian one where

not only is it allowed, but encouraged to use the Lord in our messages to one

another. To remind each other that God is watching out for us, and that He has a

much bigger plan for us than we may ever see. One thing that is becoming

increasingly more difficult for me is seeing outside of my own world, and

getting attuned to "The Big Picture"

AFK For Too Long

I have been doing not so well with the regular blogging. So here's an update.

My sleep schedule is messed up. For whatever reason Monday night I could NOT sleep. Was tossing and turning and flitting in and out of sleep until 3 a.m. before I finally said "ENOUGH!" and got up. Went into the kitchen, ate a popsicle (I think?) and sat in my recliner. Next thing I remember is David waking me up at like 7:30 a.m. and being like "Are you ok?" I could NOT wake up, my brain was so foggy, my eyes were open I was "awake" physically, but my brain wasn't functional. So I am sitting there and my phone is on the table next to me. (At this point David had already left) And I was like "why is my phone here? I KNOW I put it on the charger last night" So I call David, "Did I put your phone of my charger last night?" "Nope" he said. "Ok, so..I remember putting A phone on my charger, but my phone is sitting on the table." I said. He says, "I put it next to you so I could call you in a few minutes to make sure you were awake. I told you when I set it next to you." ...YEAH... I didn't remember that at all.

Found this note in my Facebook account..had forgotten about it. SO TRUE

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 16 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 16 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you."

1) There is a monster locked inside of me, I keep it well guarded because i am afraid if I let it out at all I will lose control and I will destroy everyone I love

I Really Wish I Could Change My Way of Thinking

Do you ever feel like that? Like if only I could just believe that I’m fine, then I will be fine. But for me, every time I think I’m fine, the rug gets yanked out from underneath my feet. I either get sucked into the black hole of depression, or I’m hyper and talkative and flitting from here to there. And I know that I’m doing it, and that it’s going on; yet I feel powerless to change it. The weight of all that “IS“ becomes too great of a burden to bear.

A fine line between ok and not ok?

This is more of a question entry more than prophetic wisdom (haha).

For whatever reason when I was in the hospital my psychiatrist and I had some how ended up on the topic of the fact that after my mom left and it was just me and my dad that we used to take baths together. Now, I never thought anything of it. There wasn't anything sexual about it, it never made me uncomfortable that I remember. It was just easier.

Maybe...

Maybe it's just me. I feel psychotic. Like I want to hurt someone. Like I want to hurt you, because you're happy and I'm not. I don't mean physically, but I want you to feel pain when you read my words or see my face, like I do with yours. I feel the venom seeping out of my fingertips, but I can't stop it. I did this, but a part of me wants you to suffer for the mistakes we both made. It isn't even relevant anymore, and deep down I wish you all the happiness in the world. But it pushes me over the edge to see you happy while I'm miserable with myself. The situation is so different from before. I have my support. I have my plans. I have it all. Why can't I be happy too? Why were we miserable together and now you're ok and I'm not? Somewhere in there under the murky waters of my irrational and seemingly uncontrollable thoughts, there is this part of me that realizes that none of it was really real. For whatever reason every time I try to detach myself, I become so afraid of cutting the ties that I start all over again. I really believe I'm crazy. You were a symptom of my mania/depression/psychosis, but even after being somewhat more clear I have this insane feeling like I need to cling to this fragile thread that exists between us. Or maybe I hallucinated it all. Maybe I'm delusional and I made the mistake of taking it for something more than it was. I hate thinking of myself that way, but I really have come to believe that everything that was, was the result of a grand delusion, the result of me being very,very sick in the head. I don't think I want you to ever be my therapist. I may be more fucked up than either of us ever realized. Good night.

Jessica

P.S.

Is It Really Just Psychosomatic?

My husband worries about me and calls me a hypochondriac because I will take the symptoms that I have and use a symptom checker (Web MD has a great one) and then I will be like...."well...It could be this (maybe hay fever or depression-duh!) or I could have THIS which is probably what it is (Multiple Sclerosis!!!)" (coz I'm a dramatist) No, seriously. that is what it came up with. Now, in all seriousness I know that I don't have multiple sclerosis, but other possible options were hypothyroidism, etc. Which is totally believable even though I had all my blood work done 6 months ago (including thyroid test) because we were ruling out just that possibility.

haha ahha haah!

My horoscope for today: An email from an ex or long lost friend might be tempting you to reconnect and start things up again, but don't do it! You need to let people from your past stay in your past -- at least for now. Too much is going too well for you to toss something like rejuvenating a new relationship into the mix. It could trigger someone's jealousy or resentment, and you will be inviting drama that simply isn't necessary. Stick with the people you are currently in sync with.



Yeah, think I might listen.

I am Real?

So often, I have something to say but the words get in the way of my brain and my brain gets in the way of my mouth. Instead what I meant to say comes out as me being selfish and uncaring. Or maybe caring too much about stuff that doesn't matter and isn't going to help me get better. I am struggling. I am struggling to see that in the end everything will be OK. Because I don't know if it will.

Am i anti-social? NO I just don't like u

We've lived in the same house for years with the same neighbors and the only ones I know by name are the ones that I know I don't like. The only reason I know them is because they are the only ones nosy enough to have come over when we have been outside. They are the reason we don't go outside anymore.

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Crosspost From Hope Works Community

new on www.hopeworkscommunity.wordpress.com

on defining what is possible

"... our definition of what we can't do anything about grows larger
and larger..."
--- from a previous post


The above quote expresses part of the real poison of bipolar disorder,
both for the consumer and for family members.  After so many bad
things happening you begin to despair of anything else.  Life becomes
about feeling better and finding some way to minimize the pain that
seems to be everywhere you go and be there with everything you do.
For too many people even trying seems pointless and suspect.  I know.
I have been there.

I am soooo tired

Twit!

Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/falloutmommy

Head Like A Hole

I figured it would be simpler to just update everyone this way. On February 26, 2009 I admitted myself to Port Saint Lucie Hospital (psychiatric facility) for extreme depression and planning my own suicide. I had a bottle of about 200 Ativan in hand ready to swallow, instead I put them back in the bottle and picked up the phone and called my husband to meet me at the hospital. I was to the point that I felt my family would be better off without me. My episodes of depression have been getting significantly worse and previously I had thought of killing myself but never actually made a plan and mostly put that plan into action. I spent 8 days in the hospital, have found a wonderful psychiatrist, and have been officially diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder. My psychiatrist has increased my Zoloft to 150mg and has added Lamictal and Seroquel that we are currently tapering up... right now I am taking 50mg of both, which is a very little and probably why I still feel like crap. I have been home for almost a week and I still feel very depressed, but no longer suicidal. I am dreading going back to work, if I even still have a job. I am having trouble coping with just BEING at the moment, let alone being productive or on task. And I get panicked just thinking about the discussion I will have to have with my supervisors if I do return. I can't cope.

Black - I am leaving today

the black is closing in again

rubber band ribs

stretched to the point of snapping

can't get the air to go in or out again

each breath is like torture

each thought jumbled

racing from here to there

concentration is a dim memory

feel like i'm floating

transient consciousness in a body

that isn't really there

the fog won't lift

surrounded by shadow

surrounded by the overwhelming need

to self-destruct

shut down as if I were a machine

I keep trying to go through the motions

mind says 'shut it out, succumb to the black'

fighting myself

fighting routine

keep trying to fight the urge to run

want to be away from it all

if I could just see the end

the light might become bigger

but the light isn't there

anywhere

dark keeps sucking me in

enveloping

consuming rationality

screaming screaming

leave, just leave me.

LEAVE ME ALONE!!

Can't move forward

can't shuffle back

its not me

my mind has a mind of its own

keep me in a cage

heart racing

trying to find a way through the darkness

I am being swallowed whole

gulp.

heart fluttering inside the rib cage

caged. trying to be free

the drugs bring no relief

just encourage me to give in

to shut down as my mind commands

I want to let it take over

take me away

thoughts taking flight.

I can't stand it

giving in

going home

shut. down.