Not only am I hot & sweat, I'm also snotty!

You'll be happy to know - my television's started working that night. Thank the FSM! Apparently a squirrel got fried or something. Who knows and who cares as long as I've got t.v.

Yesterday, I did do Pilates in the morning. I almost talked myself out of it but then thought, "You only have to do 10 minutes and you're done!" so that made me get up and get moving. I'm not even sore today.

Don't ask me what else I did because I can't remember. This heat is killing me, even though I'm not outside more than a minute, it sucks. And my allergies have apparently kicked in so I'm sneezing uncontrollably, my right nostril is plugged or running, it can't decide, and my head feels like it's full of cotton. Super!  So not only am I hot & sweaty, I'm also snotty.

I know Dad came over yesterday for a short while and I know I read for a bit. That about sums up yesterday.

Today I woke up in a foul mood. I think because of my dreams. I was dreaming a lot about driving in snow because in real life, by the time I get a job, it'll be snowing and I'll be petrified. It makes me incredibly anxious so I just try not to think about it. I'm wondering if I should be taking an anti (sneeze, sneeze) anxiety med before bed because it seems I'm still quite anxious overnight.  Something to ask the doc on the 6th.

Mom and I walked the dogs this a.m. then made a trip to the Big A for my prescriptions and groceries. I'm just a zombie with a runny nose who sneezes, though I made sure to pick up enough ice cream and peanut butter to get me through this trying time. :)  I believe I've used up all of my allotted food stamp money so we'll see, come September 1st, if it automatically renews itself. I'm not quite sure how it all works. They didn't give very good instructions.

And now I'm just staring at the screen so I think it's time to go lay on my back and see if I can drain this snot down my throat. Attractive, right?

Being without t.v. is like being without oxygen.

My cable just went out at 10 til 5pm. I don't think it's going to magically come back on and a tech won't be out until tomorrow sometime. How am I going to sleep? My television is my companion! How am I going to survive without Big Brother tonight? I have the t.v. on and it's just static but I keep hoping it'll magically go back to normal. I'm hopeless.

Today's been a decent day. I was up at a normal hour. Brushed my teeth and took my bath (I still think of these as accomplishments). Walked the dogs with Mom. Then I napped for a few hours. I can really nap. I ate lunch and dusted the living room. I did dishes. I started reading. That's huge. I'm a voracious reader but haven't been able to read a single book for a long time because I lack the concentration.  Finally, today, I read. My Aunt Hope keeps asking me if I've gotten to the part in the book where I can't put it down. Today it finally happened. Took me two weeks to get there, but I finally made it!  So at least with the television down, I'll finish the book tonight. But what then?

OMG, I rely on t.v. way too much. This is enough to revert me back to craziness within minutes.

Tomorrow is garage sale day for the parental unit so my plan is this:

1. Since we won't be going on our regular walk, I'm going to do Pilates before I do anything else.
2. Brush teeth & bathe. Still important.
3. Hopefully a tech will arrive at 8AM & fix my cable.
4. Call Walmart to see if my prescription is filled.
5. Do I dare drive to Walmart by myself? I don't know yet. Let's see how I feel tomorrow. I may be stuck here all day with a cable t.v. repairman. Sounds like a sleazy porn movie.

I just realized - I can watch DVD's!  There may really be a god!   Off I go to remedy this awful situation.

In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move. --Douglas Adams

I should have blogged about this yesterday when I was still somewhat excited (?) about it, but I did drive yesterday, with Mom by my side, to Walmart. She even let me shop by myself! I'm not sure I was excited about it afterward. I scurried there and I scurried home. I'm a little mouse scurrying from place to place, just trying to scurry home as fast as I can.  But....I did it & nobody died!

I woke up in a bad mood today. I had a dream that I went back to work for the church. WTH? I even thought, "What the hell am I doing?" in the dream.  I don't know why I dreamt that, but it put me in a sour mood. Then Elvis wouldn't stop meowing for no reason so I just took a bath. I swear, I'd be one of those women with a crying baby, shaking them to just please stop. It's a damn good thing I don't have children. Maybe I shouldn't even have a cat. *eye roll*  I've had him this long and haven't killed him yet; I think he's going to survive.

I was anxious this morning about my therapy appointment. I usually get a call the day before reminding me of the appointment, but I didn't, so that had me worried. I tried to call all morning and just got voicemail so Mom & I just went on faith that the appointment was as scheduled. It was and good thing because I needed it, apparently.  I was also anxious about my meds. My Klonipin will only last me through Sunday. After that, I'm out. I tried to get it resolved while  I was there, but couldn't, so had to call their nurse and leave a message. I haven't heard anything back and that makes me anxious too.  Why does everything have to be so damn difficult?

Therapy.  She asks some tough questions. Tough questions that make me cry. I cry a lot in therapy but it's better than crying uncontrollably outside of therapy, right? I told her I've started thinking maybe I should be looking for a job. I can't rely on SSI or Disability to come through and I can't keep living off Ma & Pa so I should be looking and she said it's like this: A crash diet. A person crash diets and yeah, they lose weight but pretty soon they're right back where they started and maybe even worse. That's me. She said I need to take baby steps (which made me think about the movie What About Bob? - I should watch that...).  My baby steps are to get right on the meds; figure out why I'm so anxious and depressed and deal with it; work myself up to more 15 minute-to-do increments; and to realize my negative self-talk.

She said I don't give myself enough credit for the good things. What good things, I think? It's all crap. It's hard to think of good things when I'm weighed down by all the negative about myself.

It's the 3:00pm-Hour and Dad is away at some church thing and Mom's at coffee. But I have coffee in my hand, the door open so I can see the outdoors (because I'll be damned if I'm actually going to go outside in 100 degree temps!) and I'm moving to the recliner instead of the couch.  Lol.  It takes so little.  I also have to look forward to dinner with Mom since Dad's away.  And there's pie. Pie always makes everything better.

Faith means not wanting to know what is true. — Friedrich Nietzsche

I'm not bald!  I got a great haircut and was thrilled with it. I'd take a picture to show you, but I'm a bit retarded when it comes to taking pictures of myself (they always turn out stupid) so you'll just have to imagine it.

I don't think I did much else Saturday except eat & nap. I'm grateful that I can nap again, but I worry that I'm sleeping too much and not for the right reasons (that I'm tired).  Though I am tired, probably from the Klonipin, I think I sleep to pass the time. There's a lot of time in a day (24 hours, don'tchaknow) that I can't seem to fill.

Sunday I was up at 4AM but AMC was re-running all the shows I missed so I watched that until 8AM. Yep, 4 straight hours of sitting on the couch, watching television. That seems about right. I did bathe, then I swiffered my kitchen floor (finally), did a load of laundry and watered my plants. I even drove to the post office to get my Friday & Saturday mail. There was one piece.  I was pretty proud of myself that I did that much. I did nap - again - and then I didn't know what to do so I called Mom & Dad and they came over. We sat outside on the porch in the stifling heat. Is it Fall yet?

That's not the big news, though. The big news is that I woke up today excited about something. Do you know how long it's been since I've woken up excited? And do you know why?  Because today I want to drive (with Mom right beside me, of course, though she doesn't know yet) to Walmart.  Yep.  That's it. That's what has me so excited. I'm ready to try to drive on the highway. And to Walmart.

I'm scared to death. But I'm more excited to try than I am scared and I think that's saying a lot. I haven't had any crying spells since Friday so maybe the drugs are finally kicking in.

Maybe. I may be a crying lump of goo as soon as we hit the highway. Who knows? But I've got to try.

I love the mirror in that bathroom. I don’t know what in the hell it is, I look terrific in that mirror. I don’t know if its the tile or the lighting … I feel like Robert Wagner in there. - George Costanza

Today's Saturday, right? It must be because I had nightmares all night about my haircut appointment this morning. I dreamt once that I had a George Costanza look and was bald.

Not a good look for me. Do you think I'm anxious?  I'd say so. I don't know why. I always tell the hairdresser, "You can't screw it up. No matter what you do, it'll look fine and it can always grow back".  So why the worry? I think 1/2 the worry is just driving over there. I've decided to take the interstate instead of the highway. Less to fear on the interstate. I'm sweating just thinking about it, so let's move on to another topic.

I finally stopped crying last night after 6pm.  My brother stopped by and just talking to him made me want to cry. He's working so hard and yet struggling and here I sit like a lump on a log not doing a damn thing and obviously not getting any better, either. He warned me that I'll probably be denied disability but to keep trying and to not get discouraged. Yep, I cried after he left. But I didn't cry myself to sleep, which was a nice change and I didn't cry immediately when I woke up.

I did call my doctor yesterday and left a message, which she probably couldn't understand because I was crying. Something isn't right. It's been a week and I would think I'd be seeing some improvement instead of things getting worse. I feel like things are worse. Are they? I can't tell, but crying uncontrollably for days on end can't be a good thing. She didn't call back so I'm still taking my regimen of meds until I can call again Monday.

I'll  let ya know if I turn out bald after my haircut. Here's hoping I still have hair on my head.

Yah.....This too DID NOT pass.

So, yesterday morning Mom called before they left for garage sales. We'd made a plan, by her suggestion, that she'd call me when they got home and we'd go to the post office. She didn't. And I didn't call her, either, because it makes me mad that I'm so dependent on her/them. I should be able to go to the post office without a damn escort. But, I was really looking forward to getting out of the house AND having company. When that didn't happen, the water works began, the negative thinking began, and just didn't stop.

Dad stopped by at 2:45 with a freaking 10 gallon bag of the wrong cat food for Elvis, but I was in too many tears and too angry to tell him it was the wrong kind - kindly. Elvis will be dead before I go through a bag that huge...of the wrong cat food. So I just waved him away as the tears were rolling down my face.

I didn't hear from my parents the rest of the night. And no wonder. They probably need a break from all this insanity. I know I do. I wish I could take a damn break. My only break is sleep and that seems few and far between. I cried myself to sleep and I cried as soon as I woke up.

I have a feeling the tasks aren't going to get completed today.

And I'm having a damn cup of coffee just for getting out of bed. That's a feat in itself.

“For all we know Jesus could have had an imaginary friend everyone now calls God” -Tim Jensen

I'm having a rough afternoon. I got all my tasks done (cleaned the bathroom, brushed Elvis, vacuumed the living room rug) then I watched Supernatural and ate breakfast. I laid down to read two chapters of Iron Lake (completed) and then napped for a couple of hours. My sleep is still interrupted each night - at least 4 or 5 times- so a nap seemed appropriate.

But since waking up around Noon, I've just been sitting and doing nothing. I can't even think of anything to do. It's too hot out to do anything outside and anything I think of to do inside, I should 'save' for tomorrow's 15 minute tasks. Otherwise, I won't have anything to do tomorrow. Speaking of, I can't believe tomorrow is Friday already. Doesn't seem right how my days can go by so slowly but the weeks just fly by.

I thought about calling Mom & Dad but I 'use' them so much and I think that's what's made me cry. The thought that I've become this dependent adult-child. I don't want them to get sick of me. And I should be able to think of shit to do and actually do it on my own. It pisses me off that I can't.

It's just a rough afternoon. This too shall pass.

When one person suffers from a delusion, it is called insanity. When many people suffer from a delusion it is called religion. – Robert Pirsig

Yesterday was ok. I did sleep quite a bit. Since I completed all my tasks early and didn't want to tackle anything else for fear I wouldn't have anything to do the next day or the next, I slept. I slept from 10-1. I woke up and had some coffee, even though I hadn't done anything, but I did move from the couch to the recliner. It's sad when that's an accomplishment. Then I felt hungry, so I grudgingly decided to eat. Dad popped over around 3 and we sat outside for about an hour. I didn't do anything else. I ate my ice cream & peanut butter mixture during Big Brother, then went to bed. If I stay up until 8, I'm doing good. I woke up several times during the night, but not wide-awake so easily fell back to sleep.

I woke up at 6. I couldn't think of my goals for the day. The only thing I could remember was brushing Elvis and vacuuming the rug.  I had to check my blog to see what I said I'd do. Ah, clean the bathroom sink. So I bathed and then tackled more than the sink. I swept the floor then Wet-Jetted it. I cleaned the sink and the counter. I tried to clean the bathtub and that's when I got too hot and figured I'd done enough. I've brushed Elvis, but am waiting for the sun to come up before I vacuum. Something just feels wrong about vacuuming before the sun arrives.

My problem is that if I don't do all these things first thing in the morning, I know they won't get done. BUT, doing them first thing in the morning leaves a lot of hours in the day of doing nothing. By 8AM, I'm sitting and staring again, thinking of what I could be doing but not doing it.

At least I'm not crying.

I'm anxious already because I have a hair appt. on Saturday that I'll drive myself to because I think it's ridiculous for Mom to drive me 6 miles and sit for an hour waiting. It's o.k. for her to drive me to the Big A because there are places she can go and things to do, but not in small town Iowa.

Time to vacuum because I feel a nap coming on and if I don't vacuum now, it'll not get done today.  

I came. I saw. I Swiffered.

So I think I made a mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have done all of my 15 minute tasks in the first hour of being awake. I brushed my teeth. I bathed. (1 cup of coffee)  I took the garbage out. (1 cup of coffee) I Swiffered (1 cup of coffee).  It's not even 7AM. At 8, I'm going for a walk with Mom & the dogs. I figure that deserves as many cups of coffee I want.

My plan for tomorrow, which I don't want to do today, is to clean the bathroom sink; brush Elvis; vacuum living room rug where Elvis' fur has fallen.  Tomorrow's Thursday - garage sale day. So Mom & Dad will be gone all morning.  Mornings aren't usually my problem. It's the afternoons that suck. I need more things to do tomorrow. I need to want to do more things tomorrow.

Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day; teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime; give a man religion and he will die praying for a fish. --Unknown

Where, oh where to begin.

Yesterday I basically slept all day. I only got up to take my meds. That's all I remember from yesterday. Oh, I didn't have any IBS pain, so that was a nice reprieve.

I slept like shit again last night - No surprise since I'd slept all day. I sleep with a freezer pack on my left arm. I'm beginning to think I can't sleep without it. Once it gets warm, I wake up. I need a freezer to sleep. I'll be like a frozen vampire.

I woke up feeling ok except I had the thought of not bothering to bathe today. I had therapy at 11. I thought I'd just go in my pajama's and wear a ball cap. What's the difference and who cares? Only the switch went off in my head - the switch that makes me move - and I did bathe. I was brushing my teeth and figured, what the hell. The tub's right there. Might as well. I did eat a bowl of my favorite PB Cheerios. Then I just waited for my ride to arrive (Mom).

I cried the whole way to Atlantic. Not that Mom knew. I tried to keep it in. I tried to make it stop. I tried to keep it secret, but when we were turning into the hospital grounds, I sobbed. I couldn't help it. I couldn't make it stop. And I had absolutely no reason for it. It sucks to cry for no reason. Poor Mom thought it was her. It wasn't her. It was just me, having yet another breakdown.

There's no explaining it and that's the most frustrating thing of all.

I sat in the waiting room with my sunglasses on like some D list movie star, trying not to sob, but as soon as she called me back to her office, the water works started. I practically ran to her office. I hate for people to see me cry.

She understood. She knows what meds I'm on and knows that they'll take time to work.  Her plan for me is this: I need to have at least 15 minutes planned a day of things to do and a reward at the end.  Such as Swiffer under my dining room table. It's a mess under there. Cat hair accumulates like there's a freaking magnet under there or something and it's been bothering me for days. FOR DAYS.  Yet, I can't seem to bring myself to actually Swiffer the damn floor. Or blog each day. Or brush Elvis. Or go for a walk with Mom and/or Dad. Or weed a patch of weeds. Or journal. Or water the plants. Read. Even if it's just for 5 minutes. Or move from the couch to the recliner. Simple, every day things that you probably don't even think about doing. I have to make a plan to do them.

I have not thought of what my reward would be. I suggested a Mom-baked-blueberry-pie. She laughed. A reward should be something I look forward to. I don't look forward to, nor do I enjoy, anything right now.

I'm thinking of withholding coffee.  Tomorrow, if I get up at the right time (6:00 or 6:30) and if I bathe within that first 1/2 hour, then I can have a cup of coffee. That's if my IBS is working with me.  If I then Swiffer under my dining room table, I can have another cup. At 8, if Mom & dogs are willing, we'll go for a walk. Another cup of coffee. I think that fulfills my 15 minutes of 'doing' for the day. However, as we all know, afternoons are the worst for me, so I think Dad should be invited over when Mom goes to coffee at 3 and we can have our soda's on the porch.

That's just tomorrow. What about the next day? And the day after that? And the day after that?

There's 1. Brushing Elvis; 2. Journal; 3. Blog; 4. Water plants; 5. Read.

It's all too much. I just want to sit and stare. I really need these meds to kick in, like, NOW.

The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one. --George Bernard Shaw

I slept like shit last night. Was up at 11, wide awake. Again at 3, wide awake. And finally just got up at 5. I've been waiting for the sun to join me for 2 hours. I guess I caught up on all my lost sleep and now it's time to start over...losing sleep.  I don't like having too many hours in my day to do nothing. And now I have the joy of not knowing when my IBS pain will hit - morning or afternoon? Which will it be today? Yesterday it was afternoon, again.  I really need to just stop eating.

Obviously, I'm not feeling any better.

“It ain’t those parts of the Bible that I can’t understand that bother me, it is the parts that I do understand.” --Mark Twain

I was going to blog yesterday afternoon about what a good day it was - no pain!  But then I was wrong. The IBS pain hit in the late afternoon. No time of day is safe. WTH?

Today's been the same. No pain in the morning, thank goodness, but who knows what this afternoon may bring?

I don't notice much difference on the meds. I'm still sitting on my ass not wanting to do anything, only now I'm tired, so I nap. That's a nice change. Sleep is good.

I realize it may take up to two weeks to notice any change, but I kind of hoped the Wellbutrin would kick in right away.  200 mg each day seems like a lot, compared to my 1.5 mg of Clonazepam.

At least I'm sleeping. At least I'm sleeping. At least I'm sleeping.

Yesterday & today have been "nothing" days, meaning I've done a whole lotta nothing. Yesterday I did laundry and watered my porch plants. Today I haven't even done that much. I made more coffee. I might do a load in the dishwasher. I went to Mom & Dad's for lunch. I've napped.

A whole lotta nothin'.

Believing in something just because you fear the consequences of not believing in it is no reason to believe in it. --South Park

I didn't have much time this a.m. to take my time getting ready for my appointment. I had woken up at 4AM and remember thinking, "You can not stay up. There are too many hours...."  So I made it back to bed and fell back to sleep and slept until 7:30-ish.  I am sleeping better. I think being off the Abilify has helped with that. I remember when I first started taking it, I asked the pharmacist if I could take an over-the-counter sleep aid because I wasn't sleeping. He said not to and that the Abilify should help me sleep. What did he know? Obviously it wasn't but I listened to him.  I'm glad I'm off it for now.

I was really anxious this morning. So much so that I could barely pluck my eyebrows (I didn't make it far; too afraid I'd shake, miss, and pluck the wrong thing) or curl my eyelashes. I might not wear any makeup because what's the point? But I have to curl my lashes. It's a thing. I was shaking so bad, I couldn't hit the lashes very well and thought I'd end up ripping them all out. That'd be an interesting look.

So I took 2 Clonazepam (Klonipin) to ease my anxiety. And a Dicyclomine to ease my gut. I had little pain this a.m. which was a relief.

We made it to the appointment and I like how little time they make you wait in the waiting room. That's always a good sign. And the receptionist is nice. I like good customer service. I met the doctor, Dianna, for the first time and immediately liked her, too. What a relief. I had brought all my medications (per Mom's instructions) and glad I did.

I'll be taking Clonazepam 3 x's daily instead of "as needed" and Wellbutrin (which I already had a full bottle of) 2 x's daily.  I'm excited and anxious to see what will happen, even though I know it will take time (up to two weeks) to notice a difference. I already feel better just knowing there's a plan. A plan always makes me feel more at ease. I'm worried the Clonazepam is going to make my muy constipated and the Wellbutrin might make me high as a kite (as in a manic episode) or want to drink, but I'm going to do whatever it takes to end this anxiety & depression, though I will not jeopardize my sobriety.  The first inkling that I'm craving alcohol and the Wellbutrin is gone. There are plenty of other medications out there to try. I'll try them all if I have to.

I have to get back to life.

Hello, life. I've missed you.

Even grocery shopping wasn't so bad. I didn't get everything I'd hoped to get but my Food Stamp card worked with no issues and I only had to pay $6.00 out of pocket (for soap & kleenex).  What a difference that is going to make in my life and my parent's lives. I have plenty of food now to last me at least 2 weeks if not a month. Oh, but I did get ice cream (two) and two things of peanut butter so I see a major weight gain in my future. Hope my clothes can handle it. And my gut. It's worth it. There's nothing better than ice cream and peanut butter, except maybe my mom's peanut butter/chocolate chip bars. She brought some over on Wednesday. They're almost gone. If a good thing is in my house, it won't last long.

Right now, I can honestly say, I feel good.

Ask me again in an hour or two.

Lovejoy: "Get a divorce." Marge: "But isn't that a sin?" Lovejoy: "Marge, just about everything is a sin. Y'ever sat down and read this thing? Technically, we're not allowed to go to the bathroom." - The Simpsons

I don't know where to begin because I really don't have anything to report. I, literally, did nothing all day.

I did bathe. I did brush my teeth. I watched a lot of television. I read. I napped. I drank coffee. I ate. I had IBS pain again this morning, even before my morning coffee, so now I know it's not even that.

I was anxious all day about tomorrow - my appt with the doctor for meds, but mostly about going grocery shopping afterward. I don't know why that makes me so anxious, but it does. I'm afraid of people.

Hmmm, that's not really true. I just dislike people and don't want to be around them. And I'm afraid of using my food stamp card for the first time and....what if it doesn't work? What if I screwed something up activating it? What if I get up there with all this food and it doesn't work? I'll be mortified. Then it's getting home & finding a place in my freezer for food. My freezer is the size of a gnat.

I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a heavy sweating day.

Mom & Dad popped over late this afternoon with their garage sale finds. A rain gauge, which Mom took home with her because I really don't care how much rain we got and in fact find it funny that people have those. Don't they watch the news? Bill Randby will tell me how much rain I got. Lol.  But the best find was this:

A bird feeder that will never see any birds because the cat on top will scare the shit out of them.  I think it's great. Just need to find a place to hang it.

Disability just called and I started thinking......

which isn't a good thing.

They seem a little too focused on my physical conditions rather than my mental conditions.  Why isn't as much merit put into mental illnesses as physical ailments?

I keep reminding myself, nothing has happened yet. I haven't been denied anything....yet. Though maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up at all.

Mom came over this morning around 9 and we weeded a couple of areas around the house. If not for weeds, I don't think I'd have a lawn.  It took some goading on Mom's part to get me going. I had been sitting for too long already by 9 and just wanted to continue to sit. *eye roll*  But we weeded for an hour and the areas do look better.

I've done nothing but eat and nap the rest of the day.  I only had a little pain this morning so I'm thinking the Metamucil after dinner each night and a Dicyclomine every morning when I wake up are a good combination.

It's 3:22pm and I don't know what to do with myself.

Pain, pain go away....and just don't come back.

Ya know, if I don't blog every day, I have no idea what I did.  What did I do yesterday? I'm having a hard time remembering.  I need to do a better job of keeping up on this, daily.

I've had IBS pain every morning for 3 mornings. Today will be morning number 4. It's still too early to tell, thus, I'm blogging now rather than later when I'm too tired to think.

Yesterday Mom had suggested we go bike riding around 8. Now, I have every intention of exercising once I have the energy and the wherewithall to do so.  But I have no desire to exercise right now. I weigh less than I think I even weighed in high school and now is the time to exercise to keep the weight where it's at, but I just have no desire to do so.  So I was thrilled when she called to say it was too cold. Plus, I was dealing with the IBS, so it would have been a short, short ride anyway.

After the pain abated (& Mom did some baking at home) we worked on the brick edging around the house; straightening it all out and putting bricks where they should be. It was good to get out and do a little manual labor, but I was anxious about my SSI phone appointment at 10:30.  It was not what I expected. It was just all about my income, of which, I have none.  The questions and answers were pretty short. I guess I expected a little more about my illness, why I can't work, etc. Nope.

After the appointment, I ate some Peanut Butter Cheerios (my favorite) then just watched t.v. until I finally napped around 2:00.  I haven't napped in a long time. I can't explain why. I just can't calm down enough during the day to fall asleep, I guess. And  you know me-- I LOVE NAPS!  I miss naps. Naps are great.

Dad popped over around 3 (dang him, woke me up!) and we chatted until Mom arrived with the dogs around 4:00.  Then I went to Mom & Dad's to play cards (I lost - really not a good day for me) and then Mom wanted to feed me, which was a good thing because I was starving.  Eggs & toast. I figured since my stomach hurt almost immediately after eating that this morning would not be good. I drank some Metamucil last night hoping it would  help this a.m.

I've been up since 5:30. Bathed. Swiffered the kitchen & bathroom floors. Now I'm 'watching' a movie & sipping coffee.  I'm sure the pain is to come.  But so far, so good and if all I get is a couple of hours every morning to get things done, that's how it'll be.  I just took a Dicyclomine as a precaution.  Maybe taking it before the pain hits will help minimize it. Or I'm just making shit up. I'll do anything to prevent it. Even stop eating, if I have to. I'll just drink protein shakes. Lol. You know that's not going to happen - I love food too much!

I feel o.k. I have moments during the day (like yesterday in the bathtub) when I cry, but I just shake my head, tell myself not to 'go there' and stop it.  Wish I could have done that last Thursday.  I start thinking about what a worthless piece of shit I am and how much my parents are doing for me that I should be able to do on my own and the tears build. (I will not cry as I type this, dammit.)  I feel so much love for my parents, I just want to give them gigantic hugs and tell them this won't last forever.

Then the IBS pain hits or I become a zombie or something else distracts me and I forget to give them hugs and tell them how much I love them.  I'm sure they know.

I sound just like Mom - "If I've told you I love you once, that last forever, unless I tell you otherwise..."  Makes me laugh at how silly we are.

I have no plans for today, or what plans I had I've already done. While that might seem like a bad thing, the  sun is shining through the leaded glass, making rainbows on my walls, and it's cool out so I'm enjoying the weather, my coffee, and my movie.

In an hour, who knows?

I don't know. I just don't know.

I'm still here, I just really don't want to blog. If you noticed, I didn't yesterday.  I don't even want to right now.

Yesterday and today, I've had bad IBS pain in the morning. It makes me very tired and today I have therapy. I'm not much looking forward to it. I don't much look forward to anything today.

It's a teary day today. I guess I'm gearing up for therapy. Did I say I'm not looking forward to it? I'm not. It just means more crying.

Mom asked me the other day if I wanted to drive. My initial reaction is horror and fear and anxiety and completely selfish. Of course I don't want to drive. I'm not even medicated yet! I haven't even had a real therapy appointment yet! But...I also don't want to be a burden to my parents, which I know I already am and I don't want them to get to the point of disgust or disappointment in me, which has probably already come & gone. Yet, I heard something this morning on t.v. (Supernatural of all shows) and it was this: I can't do this alone.

Right now, I cannot do life alone. Especially right now. I'll isolate myself and that's bad, bad, bad because it always leads to trying to off myself. Granted, if my parents weren't around - well, I'd probably be dead by now and wouldn't have to deal with this shit. I was going to say - I'd have to figure it out on my own, but you see where that leads. I'd cancel my appointments. I just wouldn't go. I'd stay in the house all day long and probably not talk to anybody unless they reached out to me.

So right now, I'll remain a burden to my parents. At least until I'm fully medicated. I hope they're all right with that because if not, I need to find another ride or some other alternative to getting medication. I wonder if pharmacies deliver?

I wonder what a day without coffee would be like?

Let's not find out, shall we? I think that might be pushing my luck.

It's 4:20pm and I don't even want to blog.

Thinking really isn't for me.

Mom asked me earlier why I thought I was better today than Thursday.  That got me thinking about it. How the hell do I know? Most of the time I feel insane. Useless. A waste of space. Worthless. Hopeless. A child. An irritable child, at that. I, and the world, would be better if I just didn't exist.

But I know I feel all those things because my brain is, excuse my language, fucked up. On the right medication, with my neurons and endorphins firing, hopefully I become a useful human being. Someone who enjoys life. Someone capable of driving and working.  Someone who wants to do yard work. Someone who can carry on a conversation. Someone who doesn't just get off the sofa because she has the urge to pee.

I can hope.

This morning was ok - I had to really force myself to brush my teeth and bathe, but I did both things. It's the thought of doing things, not the act.  Once I'm in motion, I'm ok. It's getting in motion that's the problem. I did a couple of loads of laundry, filled the bird bath I stole from my parents garden, and watered the outdoor plants. I watched a movie & drank coffee while laundry was running.  Once all that was finished, Mom & I went to the Big A to the library, the new-to-me Salvation Army (I got a pair of cute tan shorts & a couple of signs), McDonald's for lunch, then HyVee.  I was anxious to get home the whole time.

As soon as I leave the house, I want to run back in. It's only the fact that I need things that forces me to leave. Today, I needed milk & Peanut Butter Cheerios. There's only so far I can rely on my parents. Driving me around - yes. Actually doing my grocery shopping for me - no. It's ridiculous, I know. They're buying my food. Why do I even need to be there? It's the thought that counts, I think. It's the thought that I picked out my own stuff that counts and that they didn't have to. Does that make any sense?

When we returned, Dad was hanging a door to the upstairs. I'm not excited about this door, at all, but I understand the need for it, especially this winter. I'm not going to want to heat the empty upstairs. But the door will be in the way, it'll be a pain in my ass to get my vacuum, go to the shower, etc, and it blocks the only window that lights the hallway.  So, no, I'm not excited about it, but I'm damn proud of my dad for figuring out how to hang a completely blank-no-hinges-no-doorknob-door on his own.

Then he left at 2:30 and I've been alone, thinking, ever since. Thankfully, I think I'm all cried out because I'm pretty sure I'd be sobbing by now, if not.  I'm just trying to hang on until I can see the doctor and get on some damn meds.

Think, Think, Think.....That's Not For You

It's Saturday, I think. 12:24AM. I went to bed last night at 7 and was up at 11. I can only get 4 hours of sleep? Then I'm hoping I'm up for a bit and can go back to bed and get 4 more because I can't keep doing this.

Thursday night (Mom's adventure sleeping at my - her- house), I was up at 1AM. Or Friday morning, I should say. I wasn't crying, which was a blessing, but I was awake. I was awake at 4:30 when Mom got up to make her "midnight" hot chocolate. I did finally fall asleep after Mom left at 5:30-ish and slept until 7:30-ish.  I was irritable. Mom and I fixed a small section of brick edging along the south side of the house then I sat in what little sun was available.  I thought sitting in the sun would make me feel a bit less peekish. All it did was make me tired. So I called Mom, cancelled our plans and went to bed. I woke up around 12:30pm and spent the rest of the day with Mom & Dad. We ran errands (I rec'd notice that I'm eligible for food stamps - yeah. And I say that 'yeah' with as little enthusiasm as possible. Nobody should be happy they're on food stamps, but it is a bit of a relief). We watched movies (staring at more t.v.) and we ate. I hadn't eaten all day so I ate.

I didn't cry all day.

WTF?

I feel as if I've lost my mind. Do you know where it is?

Maybe I really am bi-polar, but in the sense that I get really, really depressed and my manic phases are simply 'normal'. If so, that pisses me off. If I'm really bi-polar, the only joy of it is the manic episodes. Come on! At least give me that. If I have to go through serious depression, then at least give me euphoria at some point! *eye roll*

It all just sucks.  Who knows what today will bring? I don't, that's for sure. I have no idea if I'll be crying non-stop, uncontrollably, or if I'll just be a bitch or if, maybe, I'll have a good, decent day. How the hell do I know?

I do know that I'd like to be able to sleep for more than 3 or 4 hours at a time. I do know that I'd like to not be up at Midnight.  I do know that I'd like to have some sort of energy and not want to sleep all day.  I do know that I want the body aches to go away. I do know that I want to want to do something.

On a positive note, my initial assessment with the shrink was July 30th. I couldn't get in to see her again until August 20th (& she wanted to see me twice a week, phsaw!).  She's had a cancellation and I get in to see her on Monday.  Boy, is she in for an earful. Poor woman.  I wish she'd just read the blog. So much easier.

“Where to look if you've lost your mind?” ― Bernard Malamud, The Fixer

It's 1AM. I've slept somewhere around 2 - 3 hours. My eyes are so puffy, they're practically shut. My mom is in my bed with her noise machine cranked and I'm on the couch.

The celebration went surprisingly well. I finally stopped crying around 5 after talking to Mom and got  my shit together. I put makeup on. I even wore mascara, which never happens. I wore the outfit I wanted to wear instead of my pajamas.

We ate. We watched the first video the family ever made which always, always makes me crack up and this time was no different. It's everybody else's laughter and comments that make it so funny.  If anybody else watched it, they'd think we were all idiots. Then we watched a little t.v. and that was it. Ben & girlfriend gave me a card and a hug and they were on their way. It was 8:15 so I understand. I was ready for bed, too, but Mom made a comment, "You're not going, too, are you?" So I stayed and watched t.v. until 9. I was tired.

But as I was walking out the door, the tears welled in my eyes. Mom asked if I was ok and if I had answered, the sobbing would have begun a block away from home. I just wanted to get home. So I sort of waved my hand, she responded, "No" that everything was not ok and asked if she should walk me home. I cried, "no" and went on my bleary-eyed way. I could barely see for the held-back tears in my eyes. I'd be damned if I was going to walk home sobbing. No, that held off until I walked through my door. Then the shit hit the fan and didn't stop.

I finally called Mom & Dad's around 9:45. Dad answered. I said "I don't know what to do....How do I make it stop?" and he didn't have a magic answer. That's when Mom packed her bag of noisemaker, pajamas and hot chocolate (yes she has to have late night hot chocolate - and I mean, after she's gone to bed, wakes up at 2AM and has hot chocolate - lol) and came to stay with me. What is it about her that makes me stop crying? Or maybe I was just cried out? Or maybe I was just too tired to cry anymore. Regardless, I stopped crying almost as soon as she walked through the door.

So is this my life now? Mom's going to stay in my bed, me on the couch waking up at 1AM hearing a noise I don't understand (noisemaker) and Dad's never going to sleep again because he can't when Mom's away?

No. Today will be better. This day has to be better. It sure as shit can't be any worse.

On a side note: Mom has all my drugs. That happened days ago - after my initial shrink assessment. I only have what I need, but 10mg of Clonazepam is still enough to knock me on my ass and last night I didn't want to risk that. I should have. I'd at least be asleep now.

"I take two Advil. Not because I have a headache, but because they're the only thing left that I can take." --Augusten Burroughs, Dry

I've done nothing all day. I take that back. I did eventually take a bath around 1pm after a morning nap. That's all I've done. That, and drink coffee. I have 3 hours until the family get together tonight to "celebrate" my 2 year birthday. I've cried all day. I can't imagine what kind of "celebration" this is going to be. I sure hope Ben's funny tonight because I'm not and I could use a good laugh.

I had mentioned to my Aunt Hope, because she's a voracious reader like I used to be, that she needs to read "Dry" by Augusten Burroughs. It's what I call my AA book (rather than the Big  Book which I think is mostly full of religious shit - I'm probably kicked out of AA for saying that...).  In it he says he's restless but not energetic. That's exactly how I feel right now. I couldn't explain it before, but that's it. Restless, but not energetic. I sit and think & think & think about what to do but I don't have the energy to actually do it.

For example, my 'desk', which is a door set on two bookcases, needs painted...just on the edge. I could do that. I could. But will I? Nope. I'll think it to death, but I won't do it.

What changed from yesterday to today? Yesterday I was up at Midnight, scrubbed the kitchen floor, which took 2 damn hours; put all the handles back on the cupboards and drawers; went back to bed for a few hours; bathed; then scrubbed the bathroom floor which took another hour and sapped the rest of my strength. I slept great last night without any medication and didn't wake up until 4AM. I felt pretty good when I initially woke up, but then I started to think and thinking gets me sad and sad gets me endless hours on the couch.

I have irrational sadness. Take for example my parents. They're fantastic and I'd be dead without them. They support me. They literally lift me up. There is no question, they are absolutely, positively, excellent parents. But they haven't called today to wish me happy birthday and even though I'm going to see them tonight and I know that's what they're thinking, it still upsets me. I'm ridiculous. I know it's ridiculous, yet.....Same thing with my good friends. I've received two texts today wishing me a happy birthday, but that's all. I have two friends who care? No, that's not true. I'm not the center of everybody's universe, even though that's hard to imagine. It's all so irrational.  Sometimes I wonder if my brain makes shit up just to make me cry. Is that possible? If so, I'd like Electric Shock Therapy, please, STAT.

Update: 5:06pm. I took 2 Clonazepam hoping they would kick in and make me stop crying. Do they even do that? I don't think so, but it's like the placebo effect - if you believe it, it'll happen.  It didn't until......

My mom called right after a phone call from an AA friend who knew I was just sitting at home crying. I cried the whole time on the phone with him.  Then Mom called and I cried some more, but there's something about Mom that makes a person pull their shit together. I don't know what it is. She has some sort of magic. Or it's just that we keep talking about things that don't make me cry, like, What are we going to do tomorrow? Obviously, I can't spend another day like today. We have a plan and a plan is always good.

I'm sitting here with a cold-pack-mask on my face to try to depuff my eyes before the family gathering. I hope it works b/c these babies are raw. I had a whole plan. I was going to wear this really great looking, cute outfit and even slap on some makeup for tonight. I expect pictures if I look that good.  But now I feel like just walking over as is - in my pajama's sans makeup. Maybe in a little bit, I'll feel better.

Maybe.

“I like to have a martini, Two at the very most. After three I'm under the table, after four I'm under my host.” --Dorothy Parker

I was going to write about how I seem to be feeling o.k. without the Abilify. I slept ok last night and didn't even take any Clonazepam. But then I started thinking about what today is - my two year birthday sober. And then I started crying

I started this blog just before 6AM (I'd been up since 4, drinking coffee and thinking) and then the phone rang at 6. I figured it was Mom & Dad making sure I really didn't want to go to garage sales with them this morning, but to my joyous surprise it was Aunt Hope.  I was already crying and then she wished me Happy Birthday and I cried some more. What a great Aunt to read my blog, remember how important a day this is, and to call.  I couldn't ask for a better start to the day. We chatted for an hour; I finally stopped crying and it was a great conversation. We're so much alike, it's a bit scary.

And now I'm back to crying because I feel so loved and shitty at the same time.

I remember two years ago with enough clarity to cry. I remember getting drunk on Sunday, August 7th. I had called into work because of my anxiety (duh - drinking will help!) and drank all day long. I don't remember much about that day - who I talked to & whatnot - but I must have talked to someone because Mom & Dad showed up at my door the next morning with rehab plans already in place (though those didn't work out - thank the FSM I ended up where I did).  I remember having to scan my insurance card and go to the bank and have them fax it to somewhere. I remember still being drunk, hungover, and incredibly shaky. I needed some hair of the dog but that wasn't going to happen with the folks around. I remember crying a lot. I remember going to stay at Mom & Dad's that day.  I remember my awesome neighbor who agreed without a second thought to take care of Elvis. Obviously she could see how important it was.

I remember and that's what makes me cry and smile at the same time. Cry because of how horrible I was and smile because I'm not that anymore. I might be horrible in other ways, but I can honestly say I'm happy I don't drink anymore.

It's a bit too coincidental that when I started writing this post, I played I-tunes and the first song that came on was Amy Winehouse's "Rehab" and now it's playing again as I write right now.  She was really the impetus that got me thinking maybe I needed help. Her death scared the shit out of me. At that time, thank the FSM, I didn't want to die. And I knew if I kept drinking, I would. Either it would kill me or I'd do it myself while I was drunk.

Today is a happy day but it's also a day of remembrance. An alcoholic must never forget. They must never forget what it was really like.  An alcoholic can remember the good times, the fun times, the times they didn't wreck their car. That's easy.  But an alcoholic must remember the times they made an ass of themselves in the bar; the time they jumped the curb trying to light a cigarette; the time they hit their garage; the times they called everybody on their phone list; the times they had to take notes during those conversations just to remember them the next day; the times they didn't show up for family functions or any function at all, like work; the hurt & worry they caused to those who love(d) them.   That's what an alcoholic must remember. Must.

My plans for the day have somewhat fallen to the wayside. I was going to clean my house (dust and wipe down the bathroom since I've scrubbed every floor I have). I was going to drink coffee; watch movies; sit in the sun. But somehow, now all I want to do is sit.  I haven't even bathed yet today and have no desire to right at this moment. I'm in 'thought-mode'. I just want to think and relive and cry.....and then get off my ass and do something.

Ah, blessed sleep! Where did you go?

I was up from Midnight until around 9AM when I took 2 mg of Clonazepam and headed back to bed. I slept for maybe two hours with two bathroom breaks in-between.  I expected to be in bed all damn day. What's with the Clonazepam? Is it not as effective? I'm still dizzy from taking it so is that all it does....makes me dizzy? What good is that? I can understand how a person would become addicted. The drug becomes less and less effective, so you take more & more of it to compensate. How stupid.

I miss a straight 8 hours of sleep.  How long has it been since that happened? Years. Years. Years. I cannot wait for my doctor-who-can-prescribe-drugs appointment. I sure hope I'm not disappointed.

I have, literally, nothing to do the rest of the day. Dammit. My plan was to sleep all damn day and now I'm up at 12:46pm and have nothing. My arms are too damn tired to scrub the bathroom floor, but I bet you anything, that's what I'll end up doing....and paying for it. My left arm has been gimpy for about a month now (I have no idea what I did to it- could be sand volleyball - could be painting - could be I slept on it wrong). It's just muscle so there's no big deal about it, but damn it makes things hard. At least it's my left arm, which I rarely use anyway....unless I'm scrubbing the floors and my right arm gets too tired.

I'm still in awe of my kitchen and just keep staring at it. Is that odd?

I should write my niece, Zoe, a letter but what do I write about? I'm a loser. 'Nuff said.

Ahh hell, I'm going to go scrub the bathroom floor. Wish me luck!

The work is finally done.....I think.

I went to bed @ 7PM last night because I couldn't stand the thought of sitting on my couch, staring at nothing on the t.v. and smoking yet another cigarette.  So I went to bed and read for maybe an hour before actually falling asleep.

I was up at Midnight.

I decided to scrub the laundry and kitchen floors. By hand. On my knees. I'm unable to move a muscle.

Who needs rugs when you've got a floor that looks this good? :)

And I put the handles back on all the cupboards and drawers. I'm telling ya, my dad did not warn me how much muscle it would take to put those suckers back on.  Seriously. Can't. Move. A. Muscle.

I love my new kitchen!  And it's clean. It's really, really clean.  Except the refrigerator could use a good scrubbing on the outside. Other than that, it's really, really clean!

It's now 4AM and I was sitting on the couch, sipping coffee (yes at 4am), watching Mystery, Alaska movie and pondering, "How can I scrub the bathroom floor without using my arms? Is there a way to do it with my feet?"  Because that needs done....badly, but I just don't have the muscle-capacity to do it.

She makes it look so easy. I'd fall on my ass. And I certainly wouldn't be reading a damn book!

I sure hope Mom's plan for today is to sit and do nothing. Or do something that doesn't involve arm-use.

Like sitting and doing nothing.

"Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely." - P. J. O'Rourke

You don't realize how filthy your home is until you've painted every cupboard and drawer and even taped the floor off to paint the floorboards. Ick.

I miss people. Actually, I'm just sick of being alone. Remember, it's the anticipation of a visit than the actual visit that's good for me. I have nothing to visit about unless you haven't seen the house yet. Then I can at least give you a tour.

Though the place is so dirty, I'd be embarrassed to give you a tour.

The folks from SS Disability should really just read my blog. Then they'd get a good idea of what my life is really like. But they'd probably dock me points for having the ability to maintain a blog. However, it's in my own home; I don't have to leave; I don't have to talk to anybody; I'm certainly not being social. That should count for something.

I've eaten a bowl of PB Cheerios today and drank copious amounts of coffee. This batch is rank. Bad. Tastes bitter. How'd that happen? Did it get paint inside? I don't care because I'm going to drink it anyway. It was the same way with beer. Do you think I enjoyed the taste of most beers? I did not. But after the first one or two, the tastebuds would numb and it wouldn't taste like anything. I'm sure the same will happen with this batch of coffee.

I truly have nothing to blog about but it's 3:00pm-ish and it's that shitty time of day so here I am. The kitchen is painted and drying. Mom mowed the lawn. I taped off another 'pink' area that needs painted white and put the first coat on with a brush. It looks like shit but I don't care. I'm waiting for it to dry and for Dad to show up to help. He'll be here later. You know how well I wait.

Speaking of SS Disability (above), I should have put on the form that while I do get dressed daily (yes, they asked that), I'm in my pajamas; which are a pair of sweat shorts and a t-shirt. I wish I could go bra-less. That'd complete the effect. What's to get dressed for? Who's to get dressed for? I'd love nothing more than to get all dressed up and go out to eat. Maybe I should do that on Thursday at the family 2-year celebration. I'm sick of wearing my shorts & t-shirts. I'm sick of everything I've been wearing. Same shit, different day. Can you imagine me showing up in a dress? I can't. Too much damn effort. Think I'll stick with shorts and a t-shirt.

Best Mom Ever!

And now she's mowing my yard!  Makes me feel like a slug.  Dang, I love her!

Work in Progress

An all pink kitchen - blech! Cupboards look white, but they're not. They're pink!

But not anymore!!

Mom & Dad hard at work

Geez, it looks so much better already!!!

An alcoholics mind: If one is good, two is better!

I took 2 mg instead of 1 mg of Clonazepam last night to help me sleep better. It worked. I don't remember waking up except once to go to the bathroom.  Awesome!

I was thinking this morning, as I was sipping my coffee and missing the sunlight....one of the questions on the disability form was: What is your typical day?  My answer was terse: I sit & stare.

But to go into detail (yes, I sit & stare), but what do I sit & stare at? I get up and the first thing I do is grab my soda and have 2 cigarettes while I catch up on what news happened the night before. Actually, I only watch the news for the weather and today's going to be hot so that pisses me off first thing. Today I had a cup of coffee, which I usually hold off on until after I bathe, but Mom is mowing & I'm trimming this morning so what's the point of bathing yet? So I had my cup of coffee and sat again and flipped through the channels, luckily finding MegaMind on FX. I even listened/watched a couple of music videos on VH1. Not impressed.

But what I usually wait for before I go take my bath is the sunlight streaming through the leaded glass window and making rainbows on my walls. It's the favorite part of my day and one thing that makes me smile. Today, it's cloudy and hazy so no rainbows and that pisses me off, too.

I also light my tealight to get the wax melted of one of my favorite scents: Rise & Shine. There are things I enjoy. Scents is one.

I then fill my watering can and water the plants I didn't water yesterday. Not that it's doing any good. I have one plant that a friend gave me and it doesn't seem to be doing well. I think the pot is too small and it needs to be transplanted to the ground but that's too daunting for me to do alone so I'll wait for Mom. On days I don't water the plants, I empty the bird bath and refill it. Not that I've seen one single bird bathe in it, but I gotta try.

Everything is too daunting to do alone.  When did I become so dependent on my parents? Was it a gradual thing or have I always been? I think the answer is always.

Since we're (Mom & Dad) going to be painting the kitchen cupboards & drawers today, I took the tape off from the yellow we painted yesterday. It looks good but it's daunting to look at all the cupboards and drawers that need painted. Why does the kitchen have to be so big? I don't even fill all the cupboards. I look at the kitchen and I have no clue where to begin so it's a good thing both Mom and Dad will be here today. I'll probably just stand and stare at them, working.

The rest of the day is doing what Mom & Dad want to do: Trim and Paint. Then there's that dead time in between where I sit & stare. I can't hardly read. I can't nap. I just sit & stare at the t.v. and drink more coffee, drink more soda and smoke more cigarettes. That's my day. If not for Mom and Dad, I probably wouldn't eat; would never leave the house; would never do anything.

On a Good News note: Even though my plans for the Big O AA folks to come visit me Thursday night fell through, I'm making it a family affair. My brother and family will be coming out and we'll eat and play cards, all while drinking soda. I think Mom's even baking a cake. That makes me smile, too.

I hope I'm up for it.

Drugged sleep is still sleep.

I slept! Granted, I was fully medicated, but if that's what it takes, that's what I'm willing to do. Good golly, nothing makes a person feel better than a good night's sleep, I swear. So I woke up feeling o.k. even though I awoke to the sound of Elvis puking up all the food he had just eaten. Is that cat going to die soon?

Mom & I had plans for her to come over @ 8AM to start painting the space above the cabinets in the kitchen. Buttery yellow. Looks pretty rank next to the pink cabinets, but once those are white, everything will look normal again. She did most of the painting because I can't trim worth shit, but I did do a little bit. I have to feel like I'm contributing something. I can't just stand there and stare at her doing it, even though that's all I want to do. So we finished that then had to head to Walmart to pick up my prescription....but on the way, I needed to drop off movies at the library, drop off a payment to the City, and get my mail.

Ahhhh, my mail made me so anxious, I thought I'd puke. I received two big envelopes from disability-- paperwork I'd need to fill out and return. It was all so daunting to even think about. I was anxious the whole damn ride to Walmart and the ride home. I just wanted to get home and get it done so I could stop thinking about it. How do they expect people to complete 10 pages of questions when they're depressed and anxious? Geezy lou. Couldn't they just do a phone interview? That'd be so much simpler for someone like me.

Oh, before we left for Walmart, I found out I sold my Care Bear items on E-bay. That made me anxious as well because I needed to pack them up and take them to the post office. Yes, I got my car out of the garage today. Miracle of miracles. I'm surprised the damn thing still runs.

My semi-plans for Thursday's Birthday Celebration have fallen through. Some guys from my Big O meetings were going to make the trek to this little hamlet and take me to a meeting in the Big A.  But apparently none of them are available so.......now what? I've invited my brother and his girlfriend to Mom & Dad's for dinner and cake. Mom's cooking & baking. I'll be damned if I'm going to just sit at home alone, crying, wanting to drink. So if my plans for family fall through, I'll be reaching out to friends for help. And if that falls through, I'll be sitting at home, alone, crying and wanting to drink. Damn it all to hell.

I could cry at the drop of a hat.  What a weird saying. But any little thing sets me off. Hell, I cry at commercials. I don't laugh at them. I cry. I cried re-watching Harry Potter's final movie yesterday. I'm "watching" Despicable Me right now and I guarantee it'll make me cry. Everything makes me cry. I hate it.

I haven't eaten yet today and have absolutely no desire to eat. Maybe that's a good thing because I was packing on the pound eating ice cream and crunchy peanut butter. Not good when all you do is sit on your ass all day long.

I hate how I am. But hopefully I sleep well again tonight....

Boys are funny when they try to think.

Update: We decided not to go to pick up my prescription and get paint (after I was all dressed and actually had makeup on) because we don't need paint . Mom & Dad found some in their basement so it seemed silly to drive all that way just for my prescription which I don't really need immediately.  THOUGH, due to the Car Show on Main Street, I was ready to pop a couple more Clonazepam (to help me sleep) and crawl back into my back bedroom - away from all the damn noise. My street became like Grand Central Station (& still is a bit at 3:30PM).  I did go over to Mom & Dad's for hamburgers but I probably shouldn't have. I should have stayed home, eaten lunch here and immediately crawled back into bed. The noises are all too loud. Everything is too loud. The cars are too loud. The dog barking is too loud. My dad's eating was too loud. I was ready to crack. So as soon as I came home, the pills were popped, the pj's were back on, and I was buried in my bed. It was bliss for almost a full 3 hours. I wish the pills lasted longer, but that's all I got and I'm grateful for that small bit. Tomorrow, the real fun begins because I'm going to be expected to paint. Oh FSM, give me strength.

Original Post:
I'm sleeping like shit; not that that's unusual at all, but I had a drinking dream last night and those always unnerve me. It's pretty easy to see why I dreamt about drinking - I'm excited about my 2 year birthday this week. It still unnerved me. I was up at 2:30 until around 5. Do you know who's out at 2:30AM? Drunks. Drunks making a lot of noise. Do I miss that? Nope. Not at all. And there's a reason I lock my doors at night - drunks. I was drunk one night, hallucinating because of the combination of meds and alcohol and walked right into someone else's house because I thought I was being chased by marauders. Lock your doors, people. You might get someone crazy like me walking in. I'm so glad those days are over.

I broke down this morning and took two Clonazepam's. One full milligram. I felt....funky. I still feel a bit funky but at least I've calmed down a bit.

And now I'm getting riled up because the hamlet I live in is having an antique car show on main street - one block away. I had plans for Main Street this morning. I was going to actually drive my car downtown and hit the post office, drop off a payment to the City, and return my library movies. That can't happen now and I'm a bit glad because I don't think I could drive even that short distance today. They keep revving their engines, which is highly annoying. Boys and their toys.

I had forgotten that I called in my prescription for Clonazepam earlier this week - much earlier. I forgot because I stopped taking all my drugs. However, it's only $4.00 and I'd feel better having it than not so I believe Mom and I will be making a trek to Walmart this morning to pick that up and get paint for the kitchen. Not that I want to start painting today, but I have to do something this week and it might as well be that.

I've decided I look like shit no matter what I do. I hate my hair right now - it still sticks straight up only now it's longer and sticking straight up. I look like a peacock. So I try to brush-curl it back and, well, it just isn't working for me. It needs to grow faster.....now.  And why do I bother with makeup at all? I still look like shit. I'm tired of looking like shit. Maybe I should do something about that. I'd like to shave my head, but I'm pretty sure that wouldn't help. :)

I need to get back into life. I think that would actually help.  Just existing outside my house and the one block to Mom & Dad's. My life has gotten so small.  I don't know how to make it bigger without going completely insane.

How does one do that, exactly? I'd like to know.

Live for today

I have not. I have barely done anything today. The most I've done is laundry. Seriously.  I keep thinking: I've been unemployed since the end of March with only 3 weeks of work since and what have I done with my life? Have I learned a new language? Have I read War & Peace? Have I exercised? Have I done anything good or worthy?

I've moved into a new house that I didn't buy. I've spent more time with my parents, whether they like it or not. I've sort-of-helped paint a couple of rooms.

What have I done?

I have no ambition. No motivation. No energy to do anything. My goal today was to stay in bed, but I can't sleep, so what's the point?  I sit & stare. I stare at nothing. I stare back at Elvis. I stare at the t.v. I stare at the floor. I'm like a freaking zombie without the desire to eat human flesh. Hell, a zombie has more ambition than I do!

I'm seriously hoping that my appointment on the 16th changes all of that. I'm hoping I'll be put on the correct medication and that within a short amount of time, I'll be myself again...or something closely resembling me. I'm also hoping I can just make it to the 16th.

I'm trying to think of what I'm going to do this coming week. I literally have no plans. My 2-year-birthday is Thursday, the 8th. I'm pretty confident I'm going to make it. As far as I'm concerned, that should be an entire day of celebration. But what of the other days? Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday? WTH am I going to do those days? What will I be capable of doing? I feel like....nothing. Yet, I cannot sit here and do nothing. It's slowly killing me.

It's like a stupid little war happening inside me: do nothing - do something. I want to do something. I want to do nothing. When I think of something to do, I 'cross it out' in my mind because it's just too much damn work. Like mowing the lawn. Too much anxiety-causing-work. Or painting the kitchen. Even taping off the kitchen. Too much anxiety-causing work. Or else I can't think of anything to do that doesn't involve driving somewhere. I should go visit friends instead of them having to come to me. Nope. I don't have anything conversation-worthy to talk about anyway. I'm a big 'ol dud right now. And driving? I've thought about taking a drive, just to get the car out and about (I haven't even started it since last Friday) but that produces big-time anxiety and so I just sit.

Do nothing is winning.

Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day; teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime; give a man religion and he will die praying for a fish.

This is the other thing I'm not used to living in a house....in a small town, presumably. Solicitors knocking on my door. Let's see; I've had someone trying to sell household cleaning products; another person trying to sell a satellite dish; and today, someone selling God. I am so lucky I can simply say (for the last one) "My dad's the pastor so....." and then they just infer that I must be Christian. The others, I simply say I'm not interested or I'm unemployed and that usually does the trick.

Do you other folks who live in houses have solicitors? Or is this a small town thing?  It feels small town....

I spent two hours this morning & afternoon looking (stalking) out my window for my neighbor fellow to arrive home for lunch so I could haul this pie over and (kindly) give it to him. He didn't come home for lunch. Doing nice shit for your neighbors is a waste of time. Two hours? I'm an idiot. So now I'm going to take it over this evening on my way to Mom & Dad's for dinner....and I may just throw it in his face. LOL. Just kidding....Mom.  I'll be as nice as....pie.

Same time of day, same 'ol shitty attitude. I did take a nap this afternoon since I had nothing better to do (not that I wanted anything to do) and woke at 3. I hate 3 o'clock. Hate it. I wish this hour didn't even exist. Just skip from 2 to 4 and I'd be good, right? Right.

I'm sick of the heat, too. It's only in the 80's but I'm ready for 70's weather or, preferably, 60's. Then I could work outside any time of day. Instead, I'm relegated to doing yardwork only in the mornings because it's cool enough. Otherwise, I'd be sweating my ass off and probably pass out from heatstroke. Then I'd have to (Mom would have to) bake yet another pie for another neighbor who saved my passing-out-ass. I'm anxious because I think I need to mow again and I hate mowing. I don't know why. I think it's too public. I feel like everybody's watching me and judging my mowing expertise, which is nil. And I hate doing anything alone. I hate mowing alone. I hate trimming alone. I hate sitting on my porch alone. I hate sitting in my living room alone. I just want to talk to people, but I have nothing of interest to talk about anyway, so WTF? Seriously. WTF?

What do I want?

Now that's a heavy question.

There's never enough time to drink all the coffee you want.

Dr. Mom decided yesterday that I should stop taking all my drugs. I've only been taking 5mg of Abilify and that seems to be doing nothing so I didn't see a problem with that; and .5mg of Clonazepam 3 x's daily. They're both such small doses, it can't hurt right? And neither seem to be doing any little bit of good, so why not? I see the doctor on the 16th and I'm sure he'll put me on plenty of others. It'll be good to be on nothing so I won't have to wean myself off and waste time doing that.

I'm irritable as hell this morning and just want to sit and do nothing. How is that different than before? It's not. At all. I would have been irritable yesterday if Mom had shown up at my door just as I was finishing getting dressed and decided we were going to bake a pie - this morning. Bake. A. Pie. I don't bake. There's only one reason I have a kitchen - it came with the house. We're baking a pie for the fellow who helped us cut down that huge limb hanging over my garage. He hasn't billed us so the least we (Mom) can do is bake him a pie. I have to take it to him. The only reason I'm even here "helping" is to be able to say to him, "Mom and I-I-I-I baked you a pie for all your help".

Mornings are not my problem.  I know Mom is worried about me. I had a bit of a meltdown yesterday afternoon and may have one right now, so she's trying to fill my time and all I want to do is nothing.  I'm usually pretty darn good in the morning, so there was really no reason for her to show up so early this a.m. and haul me out of the comfort of my home. The one time of day I'm 'good'.  However, by 2PM and on, I'm horrible. I don't know what to do with myself. Last night I went to bed at 6:30. SIX THIRTY! Because what else was I going to do? Fall asleep on the couch? What's the point of that? I might as well just go to bed.

So I didn't take any meds last night to help me sleep and my sleep pattern was no different, though I did not have any nightmares like the night before. Whew- those were some doozies! And I didn't take any meds this morning. We'll see how I feel tomorrow.

“I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth.”—Janeane Garofalo

I thought dyeing my hair red would perk me up.

It didn't.

Nothing does.

Not even a visit from a good friend.

Not even a fresh cup of coffee.

Not even a good movie on dvd.

I just want to crawl into bed and stay there forever and for some reason, I can't.  I continue to get up. I continue to drink my soda and smoke my cigarette. I continue to bathe (I'm sure most people are thankful for that). I continue to make plans. Why? What for? Remember when I gave a shit? I think that was yesterday. Today, not so much.

The gene pool could use a little chlorine.

I received a call from SS Disability on Monday. They said they needed to send a form to my former employer to fill out and return. I told them "good luck" because we all know how reliable my former boss was and still is. I put the office manager on the look out for the form. It arrived Wednesday. I'm sure it's lost already. And FSM only knows what he'll say.

Yesterday I applied for two jobs. Should I be applying for jobs? I don't know what the hell to do.  I can't rely on receiving SSI or Disability or even Food Stamps, so what am I to do? My other issue is, the month of August is booked with appointments; with SSI, with the therapist; with the doctor. How can I take a job and then say, "Oh, sorry, need to leave to go to this or that appointment"? I've already received a call regarding a temp job in EHK. I'm not going to be able to take it. First, because it's a temp job and second, because of all these appointments. However, if they other place calls that I applied to, I'd drop everything and take it.

Then I worry - what if the same shit happens as almost always happens? What if I'm too anxious to drive? What if I'm too anxious and depressed to go to work? What if I just plain suck? If I take a job, it screws up my chances to get SSI & Disability and certainly Food Stamps.

I'm stuck between a rock & a hard place.

I think the answer is to wait until I have a few more therapy appointments and doctor appointments under my belt, along with weeks on a new med. It'll be October before I can get a job. Grrrrrreat.

On another, more positive note, my mom painted more of the kitchen area yesterday. We (she) haven't tackled the cupboards, drawers and that whole area yet (which I'm dreading) but the area she did yesterday looks great.  Here's before:

Pink?!? WTH?

Yeah! White!

No more pink!

Thanks Mom & Dad!