Tag Archives: mental illness

Been there, done that, fucking recycling it apparently.

I know at least one article at some point in this wordpress has an article Ive already wrote, Im just too lazy/pissed off to actually find it.

Sometimes it doesn’t really bother me. Most times it just picks at me. Today it fucking just hauled off and pissed in my face, which is why I am here, writing about it again. And prolly coz people on FB will get all pissy and delete me for not being a sheep.

You know how (esp if youre white) you cant use the almighty “N” word. Don’t use retard, it hurts people. “Gay” isn’t for everyday use. Then why the FUCK is crazy?

I am SO fucking tired of seeing “My mommma’s crazy!” “Im so crazy!” “I’ll go crazy on you and get away with it.” and all the other stupid fucking variants. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You wanna know motherfucking crazy? Try losing your fucking life? Try killing yourself? Try losing everything youve worked for? Try losing everyone you ever cared about? Try never being able to hold a job? Try not being able to go places? Try being stared at every fucking day in stores? But HEHEHE its SO FUNNY to make shitty FB graphics and ACT ALL BADASS OH IM SO FUCKING CRAZY. Shut the fuck up! You dont know real fucking life altering “crazy” its not fucking CUTE or funny. You’re not gonna go beat some fuckers ass. Youre gonna sit behind your stupid computer screen on your stupid ass.

I’m so fucking tired of “crazy” getting a pass.

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Did this polar vortex blow depression in as well?

With the exception of a ten minute jaunt to BK last night, I have been in the house a week due to this weather. And I think I’m starting to go a little mad.

I’m an introvert in the most extreme way. Being alone is something that I actually like. I’m not good around people…never have been. Going out into public is sometimes a trying event. But something about being caged in this house is setting off all sorts of issues in me. I’m getting depressed, my OCD is going apeshit, anxiety is off the hook. I sit here day in day out with nothing but my animals because my husband has been working alot. My OCD is screaming at me this isn’t clean, that isn’t clean, GERMSGERMSGERMS but then I don’t have the energy to do anything about it. (and in reality, everything is clean, anyway.) Ive thought my house was being broke into for a few days now, when in reality its ice melting. (although that one night I really have no idea what was going on…)

I can’t up any of my pills. I’m maxed on zoloft. They won’t raise my elavil. (Being on two anti depressants is bad for bipolars coz it can make you go into mania if there are too many at once). And if I take any more risperdal, I’ll be so fat I’ll not be able to move. I’m on double-triple the dose I used to take, as it is. And the more I take, the more weight I gain. I’ve gained 50 lbs this year. And I feel like it needs to be raised sometimes, with the thoughts in my head, but I just cant bring myself to take anymore.

I hate that because I stay in mixed bipolar 1 that its so damn hard to medicate. Im up, Im down, all at the same time. How the hell you medicate that? You don’t. You just take pills and pray they dampen the shitty parts. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

I had pop for the first time in like three months yesterday. (Ive been giving it up, trying to lose weight…didn’t work this time so fuck it.) The large dose of caffiene kept me up an extra hour rehashing the last 15 years of my life, and all the fuck ups Ive had/done in that time. It was awesome. Dark room, unable to sleep, normally I cant remember anything, but suddenly, I remembered everything. And most of it, I didn’t want/need to remember.

And suddenly Im back to being emotional….how many pills can I take…I used to hate feeling numb, but I’m kinda tired of feeling.

Being chained to a pill dispenser

This summer I decided for the first time in 17 years I was going to not take pills. At all. Not even an anti depressant–the only thing Ive been on non stop for 17 years. It took about 1.5-2 months before not only was I depressed, I was in a depression psychosis. Since that little set back, I got put back on pills…more than I was taking before, and I’ve taken them faithfully every single day for over three months. And they worked. They worked well. Then they didn’t work so great anymore.

I was irritated easily. I was depressed. I didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere. So, against my psychiatrists better judgement, (he only likes to “up” one pill at a time, for obvious reasons, but I know what I’m doing, I’ve done it 17 years) he ups my Zoloft (now I think I’m at max theraputic dose) and doubles my risperdal. He only wanted to do the risperdal, but I reminded him about this summer and how fast I sink. And this is going to be one hell of a winter, I can already tell. In the meantime, I gain 8 lbs in two months, so my family doctor decides to put me (back) on topamax (on a tiny dose, 25. I was on over 400 a day before, and didn’t lose any weight.)

They also three months ago made me get on birth control to help tame my overreacting hormones and my nonreacting menses. So at that point, I’m on BC, levoxyl for hypothyroid, elavil for fibromyalgia (which is ALSO an antidepressant), zoloft for depression, risperdal for psychosis, topamax for weight loss. I come back to the doctor, and managed (after changing my diet, not drinking any pop, drinking tons of water, and being on this topamax) to gain 4 more lbs. So off of topamax, and back on metformin for insulin resistance.

I’m sitting here watching the clock, its about 45 mins until I take my pills for the day. I haven’t missed one dose since I’ve been back on the pills. But now, with doubled risperdal, and my body getting used to the upped zoloft (which shouldn’t make me tired) and the metformin, I’m SO damn tired. I used to only take .25, I’m up to 2. Hardly a maxed dose, but the most I’ve been on ever, plus all the other meds, plus even though I’m on max zoloft, and also elavil, I still am depressed, and still don’t want to do anything. At this point I’m beginning to wonder if I have ANY serotonin in my body AT ALL. I’ve been maxed out on zoloft and luvox both, until it wrecked my liver (or kidneys, I cant remember which organ luvox effects.)

I can’t really complain, I used to take 15 a day. Everytime something was off, they just would double everything I was on and hope it worked. All that happened was me being doped to the gills not having a damn clue about anything, nor can I remember 2000-2004. I have a vague rememberance of part of 2003. But regardless, I’ve been on a lot of pills since I was 17. I hate relying on them to be “normal”. Without them, I’d most likely end up staying in a mental facility. I feel really bad for people who take more than I do just to stay alive. I wonder how they feel. Are they grateful for the pills, or are they mad at them for being their lifesource?

I’m not real sure what the point of this post was when I started writing it. Probably to bitch and moan about having to be chained to a pill bottle to function. There’s alot of other things I’d like to write about, but until I can really sort my feelings out about the topics, I can’t really write about them. Holiday season sucks. Especially for mentally ill people. Especially for me.

I’m SO OCD! No, you’re not. You’re an asshole.

OCD.

The misuse/overuse of this word drives me absolutely up the wall. “I’m SO OCD over my floors being clean!” “Oh, I KNOW, I’m SO OCD over that!” “Oh, you have OCD? I know how that is, I can’t STAND things out of place!”

OCD is not a verb. OCD is not just a cleaning illness. Its not just a counting illness. Its not just a hoarding illness. Its alot more than that. Alot darker. Trust me. You’re not “OCD” over anything. Let me explain to you a few branches of it.

  • OCD at its best is driving halfway back across town because you swear you left the oven on and your house is going to burn down, and being late for your mandatory office meeting.
  • At its quirkiest its chewing your food exactly 28 times, even when its something that requires about 4 chews.
  • Time consuming when you have to go through the same routine every day before leaving: OK! Lights, wallet, phone, keys, lock the door. Check for wallet, check for phone, check for keys, check door. Get to car. Go back check the door. Go back inside, check for the lights. Lock the door. Go back to car, panic, go back to door, check door. Panic more, check for keys, because you’re sure they’re in the house. Go back to car. Did I leave the wallet when I went inside? Where’d my phone go? Are the keys in the door still? Is the coffee pot on? I left the door to the car open when I went in the house, did someone get in the car? Is everything in the car still? Did I forget to shut the kitchen window?
  • Having to buy everything in pairs. Even things you don’t need in pairs. Which takes up room, and uses up money you may need for something else.
  • Of course, the one everyone knows: Hoarding. Those crazy OCD people and their hoarding!

Now let me branch out to a few of them you may or may not have heard about.

  • Contamination. I’m sure you could store this under “cleaning” but let me just go a little in depth here. I have a bottle of hand sanitizer in every room. In my purse. If I leave the house without it, or run out, I buy one while I am gone. I use it over 100 times a day. I use it whenever I touch ANYTHING. I will not use cloth napkins. I will not use a normal napkin more than once. I will not touch anyone ELSES napkin. (Or towel, or washcloth.) I don’t eat at buffet style restaurants in “sick” season (Oct-Apr). I try not to leave my house but for emergencies from Nov-Mar. If you are sick, you are not allowed near me. If you have been sick, or AROUND someone who has been sick, in the past week, you are not allowed around me. If you start to FEEL sick around me, you need to leave. I will then starve myself for two days to make sure that I am not sick. I will not eat any kind of meat unless it is completely charred. If there is any kind of pink to it, I will not touch it, let alone eat it. I will not eat any left overs past three days. Two, if it’s meat. I will not eat restaurant food left overs after a day. If I shower, I will not go near anything dirty the rest of the day. During christmas shopping season, I see visually every sneeze and cough that comes by me. I don’t touch anything I don’t need to. I stay away from people as much as possible.
  • The “feel” of dirt on me has caused me to shave my head repeatedly. I can’t stand the feel of dirty hair. And if I wash it multiple times a day and it still feels dirty? It’s got to go. I will also literally get very very grouchy if I feel dirty. The only thing that makes it better is a very extensive shower.
  • Intrusive thoughts. This one just kills me. Ever constantly feel like youre going to turn on a light and a demon will be there? Or that you’re SUPPOSED to jump out of the car at 80 mph and it takes everything in you not to do it? That someone else is in your body besides you, and you can’t figure out how to get them out. You’re pretty sure you die a few times a day, and that now, you’re just living in the next dimension, continuing on. Stopping at a stop light is especially traumatic. The people next to you are going to either hi jack you, or shoot you. They also may be dead. I think about being shot alot while Im driving. It makes me not stay at red lights. I will turn to get away from them, go out of my way, many miles, and pissing off my husband considerably. What if someone doesnt stop and rams into me at 50 and kills me? Or they shoot me? I’m a sitting duck at red lights. And stop signs. And TRAINS. I stop and create a bubble so far around me at a train, so I can have a possible escape route incase anything may happen. Sometimes, when you’re sitting next to a window, and it takes everything in you NOT to try to put your head through the glass. Its also really hard when your mom lives on the fourth floor, and all you want to do is jump off the balcony when you’re there. Not because you’re suicidal. Just because it’s there.
  • Symmetry and ticks, and avoidance. Have you ever saw the youtube video of the poetry slam of the man with OCD? And he ticks? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnKZ4pdSU-s  I have tried for 20 years to explain what those ticks feel like and why you have to do them.  It feels like a strange energy is there and you have to acknowledge it X amount of times until it disappears. Its not just head turning, either. Its also, feet going back to touch, arms swinging backwards to touch, you name it. And if I’m in an unfamiliar place? Forget it. I look like I’m having random seizures. Head ticks, foot ticks, arm ticks. My husband is used to them. If theyre real bad, I have to go back and walk the same path a few times. Overhead lights, I really hate them. I look like I’m headbanging or something in stores. I also apparently stare at them and don’t notice, but that may be a whole other thing entirely.
  • Food and eating. Food is a major obstacle. We will put aside the fact I am a recovering anorexic who is now a binge eater, and concentrate merely on the food itself. I can’t eat ALOT of food due to texture. Due to color combination. (A yellow tomato? What?) Cooking practice. Who has handled it before me. Who has had access to it before me. Family get togethers almost never happen for me if there is food unless I can see the food nonstop and see how its been touched before I get there. I will avoid food that has been touched. The texture of food really limits what I can eat. I am 31 and JUST NOW started to cook. I have to wear gloves when I cook and cross contamination of ANY kind about puts me into a bad panic attack. I ate mostly boxed and frozen food that required little to no preperation because I was not ready to deal with touching food. I am terrified of food poisioning. Or of someone poisioning my food.

Mind you, this article is hardly complete. This is just a sampling of my day. I’m sure I’m forgetting many things. But please, the next time you tell me how “OMG OCD” you are about something… kindly remember this and realize that you sound like a giant douchebag to those who ACTUALLY suffer a real DISEASE. OCD is not some stupid thing that happens. I have lost MANY jobs over it. I can’t touch almost anything that someone else has touched. Do you realize how hard that is to work ANYWHERE? I’ve been on disability for a myriad of psychiatric conditions over half my life. OCD rules my life, everyday, in every way.

July was a very, very bad month.

I was just reading backwards on this site, and July–I wonder how I lived through it. I want to put on the record what has happened between that mindset, and now.

Soon after the tirading posts about being worthless and a burden, I started “seeing” things. They weren’t “there” but I knew they were there. I saw them in my mind. My house was being overrun by these weird demon people. I spent nights up with insence trying to rid my house of these problems. I went to my psychiatrist, at this point, I had not been on ANY medication for almost 2 months. Since I have been diagnosed I have never, ever, not been on AT LEAST an antidepressant. The past 14 years, I have ALWAYS been medicated.

At the point, I literally stopped taking EVERYTHING for two months. When my mom or husband asked me if I took my medicine, I just kinda mumbled and nodded or changed the subject. I didn’t want to lie and say I took it, so when I was pressed, I would just say “I’ve missed a few doses, I’m going to be more careful”, and it would be dropped after more conversation.  I was tired of relying on pills to make me “normal”. Its degrading and I was so sick of it.

I went into a depression psychosis. I went into my doctor, and had an absolute melt down in the office. I was told I was going to have to have an in home visiting nurse to monitor me. I was going to have to go back on anti psychotics, and possible other pills that we would add gradually. I had never had a depressive episode in summer. Summer was the time for mania. For spending and speeding, and whatever else I could get my hands into. Maybe it was our lack of funds, my inability to spend or speed, that did it. There was alot of stress, building stress from a few years ago. It was coming to a head and I couldn’t deal anymore.

My hormones at that point were a complete disaster. I was tested (again, the first time at 23!) to see if I was going through menopause. I was not. I was put on pills to fix the issue, between hormone issues, and psychiatric issues, and stress issues, they really wanted me medicated. And I had not been any kind of medicated for 2 months.

Getting back in the swing of taking pills was easier, only due to the birth control that you have to take or it fucks up. That honestly (due to my fear of puking) is the only reason I have managed to take my pills, every day, since I was put back on them. (Last time I was on birth control, I missed one, in 2002, and doubled up, and spent the next day puking my guts out.) The demons are gone, (though every now and then I think they might check up on me) stress is somewhat lifted. I still feel like I’m being watched and there are people around me I can’t see, but I’ve always felt that way. Me and my husband chose to take care of some things in life that were really bothering us. Maybe one day I’ll talk about it. Today is not that day. Stress has gone down alot. We are getting along alot better. Life is looking up.

For a month, I had to go to my moms on Mondays, to avoid him on his day to go back to work. We would get in horrible arguments where he would (for the third/fourth time) mention divorce, during these days. I couldn’t handle the stress and pain this was causing so I would sleep at my moms on Mondays for about 4-6 weeks. With one tiny minor slip up, I have been able to return home on Mondays. We get along so much better its almost scary. We don’t fight alot any more. We’re even  more honest than we were before. I’m not as folded into myself. For a long time, I just wanted to be left alone. In every way possible. My depression had just bottomed out. I have never went into psychosis from depression. That was a huge wake up call to me. I knew I needed medication. I have stayed on it, and feel better. I just worry for the day my brain rationalizes that “Im better” and I dont need it anymore. God help me when that happens.

Another self discovery (Im just full of them recently)

While conversating on another post of mine, I’ve come to yet another self realization. Just call me Epiphany.

In a completely non sexual related manner, I have more issues.

I blame it on Chinese astrology:

I’m a dog.

Lets take this apart.

Dog people are honest, faithful and sincere. They respect tradition and value honor, and enjoy helping people. The Dog is very righteous, and always is the first to speak out against injustice. He is not good at socializing with friends, and rarely shines in company, but he is intelligent, caring and a good listener.

Honesty-what gets me in trouble. Faithful-Ridiculously so. Helping people-its what I do, even when I don’t want to. Injustice-I cant be around it. I am always fighting againt injustice. Lack of socialization-I am your token introvert. Intelligent-the only thing I pride myself on.

Loyal, faithful and honest, he has the most profound sense of duty. You can count on him and he’ll never let you down. And as a good listener, the Dog is also very reliable in keeping secrets for others. He simply doesn’t like to gossip.

Counting on me-I will not speak to you for years, and you call me in an emergency, and I will come to you. I know, its happened. Secret keeping-while most people know that I run at the mouth, Im keeping some major secrets for people. Even after years.

The Dog is an agreeable companion – when he is in a good mood. But when panic strikes, he can turn nasty, and bark till he is tired. He can be judgmental, defensive and picky if you rub him the wrong way, but as long as you know how to pet and massage him, the Dog makes absolutely the best and most honorable companion on earth.

Agreeable-here, I’m sure some of you are laughing. But there is many times I actually will agree just to end an arguement. Panic-that is what got me in trouble from 17-24: When I thought I was being left/uncared for I ran for the hills for replacements. I panic when there is a lack of stability. Judgemental and defensive: everyone swears I am judgemental, but I swear to you, I am not judging you. I AM opinionated on whatever topic, however. Defensive-I am constantly “justifying” myself, out of being defensive. I have to justify every mistake, every step. It has been brought to my attention many times.

Dogs are born old and get younger as they age. They take everything very serious. You may hear the Dog complains a lot about street lamps, about traffic, or about weather, but as he gets older, the less he takes his own criticisms seriously.

Ive been an old soul since I was born. Ask anyone who knew me as a child. I actually laughed out loud when I read the next part: get younger as they age. My husband literally said to me about a year ago “when you were 17, you were 90. When you were 30 you were 17.” Maybe in our rush to grow up, we miss enjoying being young. I know that was my problem. Now I am 31 going on 15 like some warped Benjamin Button.

The loyal Dog makes a splendid captain of industry, a priest, an educator, a critic, or a doctor. But whatever his career, it’ll have in him a spokesman whose ideals will be profound and often original.

Ive been told I’d make a good doctor, or teacher.

When the fear becomes reality, Dogs go a little crazy. The Dog enters a relationship where he is the giver and the partner is the taker. He is usually very generous and loyal, and in love, he is honest and straightforward. But he will have romantic problems all his life – it’s his own fault, really: he leads himself by his emotional in stability and his eternal anxiety. He is a worrier.

I literally just said “Oh my god” as I read this. Fear makes me make stupid, life altering mistakes. I have always been the giver, not the taker. There was a time I was a taker. I was young and stupid. As I got older, I am most definetely the giver. I give until I have nothing left, and usually, don’t get a whole lot in return. I am super generous. Loyal to an absolute fault. There are toxic relationships that if given the chance, I would probably go back to, because I don’t know any other way. In a relationship I am more than honest and straightforward. I will never lie to you, and I will be brutally honest…at the sake of anything good. So I will have romantic problems my whole life, eh? Awesome. It probably IS my own fault. Oh hell, who am I kidding, of COURSE its my fault! Worry is my middle name.

I don’t know how to give up. I just don’t. I can’t let go. Of anything, of anyone. I think of people I was friends with 20 years ago, and wonder where they are, what theyre doing, wonder why we’re no longer friends. It almost always ends with me as the issue. I think I’m a smotherer. I’m not real sure.

Everyone flinch here, I’m gonna quote LOST:

Christian Shephard: The most important part of your life was the time that you spent with these people on that island. That’s why all of you are here. Nobody does it alone, Jack. You needed all of them, and they needed you.

Jack Shephard: For what?

Christian Shephard: To remember. And to… let go.

There should be a name for this feeling

Im not discontent. Im not unhappy. Im actually probably happier than I’ve been in awhile.

But Im….sad.

Sad at all the people I’ve lost in my life, and the reasoning behind it all. I dont mean, losing like, death. I mean, losing like, gave up on me.

Lord knows Ive probably earned some of it. Being mentally ill, you never know when youre going to pop off at the mouth and insult someone for the last time. But then part of me is just over here like, ‘but they KNOW I have this illness, and theyre still that willing to give up?’

Im not that kind of person, so it always suprises me when people are. I’ve always been into “treat people as you would like to be treated” and I couldn’t imagine holding something against someone that they may not know they did, or don’t remember doing or that they did while they had no control.

Im not saying people need to roll over and be doormats. Hell no. But what ever happened to people talking shit out? Nowadays, you just get kicked off facebook, and people don’t return your texts and calls. Its that easy now.

What makes people give up so easy?

Ive been ran over, picked up, turned over, ran over again, backed up over, drove circles on, set fire to, and still not given up on people. So how is it people so easily give up on me?

Ive put up with ALOT of shit in life. A LOT lot. Most I dont talk about. No point. Regardless as most people see me as this outspoken, blunt, tactless person (which, 90% of the time I am) there are people and situations I not only bite my tongue, but take alot more shit than I normally would. Out of fear. So when I started to NOT do that, people suddenly ran for the hills. They were allowed to say to me whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, but I could not do the same.

It takes ALOT…hell…it could probably be IMPOSSIBLE…for me to never talk to you again. All it takes for me to “forgive” is for someone to own up to their actions. Thats it. That simple. “I fucked up.” is enough. I can’t even think of a time that is so unforgiveable I wouldn’t not talk to someone. I believe in talking things and situations out. I can see both sides of anything.

Im sad at the people that thought I wasnt worth the time, energy, or effort. That I put that into them, but never got it in return. Because of this, I dont hold alot of people dear anymore. I dont want to get invested. Whats the point? Pretty much everyone with the exception of a small few, have failed me. That have passed over me for better things, better people.

I hate writing things that are vague. This is all vague. I can’t go into specifics. Not because I think the people I’m talking about will ever see it. (I mean after all, theyre the ones who wrote me off, why WOULD they see this?) I dont know. Maybe I should reactivate a locked journal or something. I wish there was an app on my nook that I could just write on. Maybe there is and I havent found it yet. Maybe I should resort to paper and pen. (takin it old school…)

This was all rambly and didnt make a lot of sense, I know.

I Wanna Be Sedated

Its been about 18 hours. In case anyone was wondering, Im still in one piece. Some things were taken care of today so that was some stress off my plate. Got my 2 back broken tires replaced. (Well, one new one, one fixed one.) Got some groceries. My living rooms completely finished. Had some talks about the things bothering me. Took a nap. Im alot calmer now, finally.

Supposedly we were having a few people show up to help between tomorrow and Monday but well see how many show up. Im still beyond annoyed, and trust me, there are some things I’d love to go into, but I’m not. Due to low runs for the week after shut down we didnt even make 600 bucks this week, while bills are way more than that. Just like last week, where we made 500 for shut down while bills were almost 700. After we somehow catch up on this mess, things MIGHT start to ALMOST get better. Right now I just really want to sell this van thats just sitting here. We were going to keep it in case I got a job but I wont be getting a job so its just taking up the other driveway space and making it hard for me to see to back out. Plus I could take whatever I get from the sale and catch up for these two weeks. But Im not holding my breath–we attempted to sell it before and to no avail. Which ended up being a kinda good thing only because we used it in the move. But now, here it sits.

Due to the heat, no money, a blown out tire and a leaking tire, Ive been sitting at home and not leaving–at all. And its not even been that bad. Sure, I’d like to go out and do some photography or go somewhere or just go on a damn drive. But then its like, but do I REALLY wanna leave? Leaving is just so much work. Everything is too much work lately. Fuck, half the time getting out of bed its a toss up until I realize Im going to eat the cat sitting on me if I dont get up and get food at some point.

I cant remember having summer depression. Its always in winter. Its weird, but in a way, its almost safer. Mania comes with summer and with mania comes speeding tickets, and maxed charge cards, and weird stupid purchases no one understands, even me. This way with no energy, at least Im not being reckless in every way imaginable. Its odd, because Im so used to that mixed state, that not being in one is just odd. I “function” at mixed. Ive been fluctuating between mixed, mania, and depression for 14 years. Thats the whole reason why I am not a “functioning” bipolar. You can medically treat mania. Depression. Mixed states, not so much. Either your brain goes three hundred miles (mania) and your body refuses to move (depression), or your mind just shuts down (depression) and your body refuses to sleep, refuses to stop moving (mania). Usually I hover in the first kind of mixed. My brain never stops while I have no energy. Which then is weird because then you dont sleep, even though you have no energy. Your brain dont shut the hell up long enough to attempt to get sleep. Now, there is no mania in sight. Not even a slight hypomania. Body aint having it. Brain aint having it. Both just are “fuck it, we quit”. The only up I get is when my OCD starts to freak, and I get anxiety from that, which then I have some energy, just bad, misplaced energy.

I know part of its my fault. I know it. The sane part of me knows why I am this way, the unsane part doesnt give a fuck because its tired of drug dependancy. For 14 years, through all 30+ psychiatric medications, I have ALWAYS maintained at LEAST an anti depressant. I always have ran depressive/manic depressive. Through all the anti psychotics, anti seizure, anti manic, mood stablizer, buffers, anti anxiety, there has always at least been that ONE pill. Even when I went from 15 pills a day–still had that one. (along with my thyroid pill or any other pill I was on at the time.) But I just….get so tired of relying on pills to function. Of everytime Im in a bad mood or have a bad day someone quips “Did you take your pills today?” Because once you have that label, youre not longer a real human. Youre a diagnosis with a face. Take your pills, like a good girl! You’ll feel better! No. I’ll feel LESS like wanting to jump in front of a bus, Im less likely to punch you in your face, but no, I don’t “feel better.” I feel…not as shitty. Yay. Kill my body and my organs in side effects so I can feel “not as shitty”. I think its because between the lithium toxicity that destroyed my thyroid which then lead to cholestorol, diabetes, and PCOS, and then the sulfa drug allergy that caused a hospital stay for 4 days while they saw if I was going to bleed out due to platelets plummeting, I just am really damn weary of drugs. Yeah Ive been on these ones forever. So? Theyre just still slowly damaging everything.

Anyway, Ive noticed that I start on a topic which then jumps to another, to another to another, so Im just going to wrap this one up.

I am so fucking ANGRY and no one I can talk to

Considering I have a whopping two friends and I just left one of theirs house so they can sleep, I dont really have anyone to talk to and Im NOT in a very good mindset right now. Im seriously just about done with life and I dont know what the hell can fix this right now.

All this shit is just getting to be too much. The house is so fucking gross I cant even handle it. Were broke. BEYOND broke. I owe doctors, the dog had to skip a vet visit, we have no food, my one tire BLEW UP and the other is leaking, my husband talks to me like SHIT on a daily basis, all day long. I cant even call him because by the end of the phone call hes SCREAMING at me for god knows what this time. The only people I even talk to are my mother, his mother, my sister in law, one friend, and my husband. My husband yells at me and talks to me like Im shit and has taking to in the past few days telling me how useless I am. My mom…well our relationship is strange and talking to her half the time makes things worse. I feel like everyones second (or worse) choice. I feel like everyone just thinks that because I dont work that I obviously dont have a life and I just should drop shit and do whatever they need/want because its good for them. I have NO energy. None. And while my husband seems to think that throwing my shitty sleep schedule in my face is the answer, I cant HELP my sleep schedule! Fibro makes you tired. Stupid sleep schedules make you tired. Depression makes you tired. Being fat makes you tired. Being out of shape makes you tired. Ive been bleeding for almost a straight month. I just CANT DO IT. ANY OF IT. All I want is some HELP. I dont need people to “do it all for me” or whatever the consesus is this week. I JUST WANT SOME FUCKING HELP. NO ONE FUCKING UNDERSTANDS. Im just so worn out. The stupidest shit is impossible. And I feel bad because of it. I already feel useless. I already feel like a waste of fucking space and that there is no point in my existance. But to be told it on a daily basis, THAT REALLY HELPS!

My sense of smell is ridiculous. I can smell stuff no one can. And all I can smell right now is dog pee. Because the bathroom needs to be mopped. But my OCD is so fucking bad I cant mop it. Its getting to an untolerable point. I cant touch almost anything any more. Im scared to eat almost anything because I think Im going to get sick. And everything in here that needs to be done is stuff I cant fucking DO. IM SORRY IM SUCH A FAILURE. IM SORRY I CANT WORK. IM SORRY THAT IM USELESS. IM SORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING. I hate myself ENOUGH. Do you REALLY have to make me hate myself even more??? I dont think I CAN!

Ever since the scare with the breast cancer issue, I feel horrible for even THINKING about the fact I dont want to be here any more. To be so careless with the life Ive been given. But its just TOO MUCH. I dont want to…die. I just dont want to live. I dont want to….be here anymore. I just want to…. I dont even know. Right now all I want to do is just cut and cut and cut until I hit something. Bleed my fucking life all over the floor. But then my OCD would kick in and I cant clean it up. Theres nothing I want to do more right now. I cant drink it away, alcohol does nothing for me. I dont need drugs or pills or anything to not feel. I want to feel I want to feel what a fucking failure I am and what a fucking fuck up I am and I just want to claw and tear and just bleed all over. Im sitting here typing this just so I dont get up and do it. But I cant even do that right. The last times Ive done it Ive been ridiculed and called names and been put down and told I was stupid and everything else, screamed at me and called me names and laughed at me and told me they would commit me because Im a stupid child. Physically did things in the name of what I dont even know. This is the “help” I get. This is the “support” I get. If you know someone who self harms let me tell you from someone who has been there, telling them how stupid and worthless they are while they are doing it and threatening them and laughing at them isnt going to make them stop. Its going to make the situation ten times worse. Its going to make them realize that that person(s) think THE VERY SAME THING THEY ALREADY THINK and its going to REINFORCE that we are USELESS AND POINTLESS AND WHY DONT WE JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY ANYWAY????

What kind of life is it to not want to live, not want to die. I just want to go somewhere far far far fucking away and just be left alone. I dont need people. I dont need shit. All Ive ever been is a fucking burden. First I was a burden on my mom who had to raise me alone. Then I was a burden on my father who had to pay child support. Now Im  a burdern on my husband who has to “DO EVERYTHING” because he JUST DOESNT UNDERSTAND and it doesnt help when there is other people making close minded comments to him making it “ok” to make me feel the way I feel. Thats all Ive ever been, its all Ill ever be. I came into this life a burden, and fuck, Ill leave it that way too. Ill be some body that they have to pay to get rid of, and then theyll have to come up with a way to pay off all my debts as well. Well, if I was to have a tombstone, which I wont because theyre too expensive, it would say HERE LIES THE BURDEN. ITS FINALLY LIFTED. REJOICE.

I’m so lazy I’m on my phone

Remember that person that stayed on their couch so long they became a part of it? yeah that’s probably going to end up being me. I don’t want to move. the most I’ve done in the past two hours is swat at this goddamn mosquito that keeps feeding on my dog that’s on my leg. 

ive missed a few doses of medicine lately but that can’t account for the shitty mental status I’m in. at least I’m not so far gone that I dot realize what’s going on. I’m sure another week or so and I’ll have no clue if it continues at the rate. 

 

im beyond apathetic. do just don’t care bout anything. I’m lonely but don’t want to be around people. they just annoy the shit outta me. I can’t explain my issue I don’t even understand it myself. I’ve barely left my house at all the past two weeks and when I do it’s to go to family. or take my husband to work. it’s mid July. the years is half over. the summer is flying by. and I’m just here. always just here. waiting. 

for what I don’t know.