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Feeling pretty crappy lately.

My first meeting with the new ARNP Psy. wasn't as encouraging as I had hoped. She wants to rule out bipolar and I feel like I'm never going to get off this shit-medication-merry-go-round. The hubbo was also suspicious I might be bipolar (he loves to webmd it all) and so the appointment felt like a trial of my dysfunction and not very therapeutic or encouraging for me at all.

To add insult to injury not only is my mood horrible I've also been plagued by fat-awareness. I'm inching towards 250 lbs and feeling worse and worse about myself and having such a slow recovery. Being down in the dumps for months on end is one thing. Adding extra pounds in sets of tens until I have nothing but dumpy capris and sweatpants to wear makes me feel like I need to return to my trailer park and disappear forever.

I'm disappointed, frustrated, angry, distraught, ashamed, overwhelmed, over-slept, and dangerously low on self-regard and worth. My depressive logic equates my current condition to that of the dregs of society-worthless addicts, murderers, and dealers that no conscientious citizens would miss should they die alone and cold. I'm simply a burden and an eyesore.

No wonder I have so few readers, this isn't encouraging or even that interesting-unless you're some sicko savoring the darkest thoughts of the walking dead, and even then I don't provide adequate panache to hold any attention.

Today was horrible. Arguing with my husband, curling up into small dark spaces trying to mute the world, and sobbing until my body gave up and seemed to reboot in safe-mode, numbed and dim.

Tomorrow I have work to do. I don't know how but I seem to have enough energy for a meager facade of sanity and cheer, however fragile that may be.

Poop.

Happy Friday. I'm busted.

I wasn't taking my meds this week and yesterday it caught up with me. I wasn't in a terrible mood per-say, it was more a physical reaction...

Hubby wasn't happy! Here's the highlights....

When you don't want someone to figure out you're ill from withdrawals and NOT flu, don't insist on having mac 'n cheese. It throws a wrench into the whole thing.

Sigh

Funny feeling having my body ready for the day and my heart, mind and soul ready for hibernation and hour-long sobfests.

I've been hanging by a thread waiting for my appointment with a psy specialist and my appointment for tomorrow is cancelled because the ARNP, Psy has the flu. Now I have elevenish days to limp along some more.

Yep.

http://thestingofajellyfish.wordpress.com/2013/01/08/the-ocean-of-mental-illness/

Futurethink

In the age of social media and incredibly powerful, all-seeing interbutts we all have to consider carefully what we share or post online. Hell, for those of us with paparazzi stalking problems we have to be careful what we do anyplace for fear it will be shared on the internet.

No, I don't think I'll ever have paparazzi problems but listening to a story on the radio the other day about a guy that self-published a *ahem* not-quite-mainstream novel made me wonder about the consequences of my online presence.

Malcom Brenner wrote "Wet Goddess" concerning his relationship with a dolphin. 'Nuff said. He wrote and self-published this years ago but says nowadays it is costing him employment as Google searches of his name overshadow his resume.

I don't plan on copulating with any sea mammals but I wonder if this blog could ever be used against me.

I have a hard time finding support in my everyday life (thus, this blog) and that can affect my well being and on rare occasion my work performance. This blog is an outreach resource for me and sadly it may also be a liability.

A small part of me cares and is afraid for my future. Part of me recognizes that while I'm in a depressive state I don't possess adequate foresight and judgement. I also recognize that while I'm in a depressive state I'm extremely vulnerable and have need for such an outlet as this blog.

At this point, I think the benefits of this blog outweighs the potential future pitfalls. I wonder what the future holds. Do other bloggers struggle with this?

Bad Day Monday

Yesterday was a not-so-good day for me.

I suppose the hard time I had getting out of bed was a sign. It was a 10:45 am wake-up time and it seemed like I barely had time for breakfast and shower before it was time to leave for 1:00 pm therapy in Seattle.

Driving south I noticed how poorly I felt. Normally I'm numbed and somewhat concerned about having something to talk about in therapy, but this Monday I felt crappy and I noticed that I felt crappy.

Things only got worse in the waiting room while I thumbed through a Psychology Today and the recommended treatment centers listed in the back. I was interested in those places and it scared me.

I was scared and anxious about seriously contemplating if inpatient treatment would help me. I was scared about the stigma, about the notation in my medical history that would follow me for the rest of my life, and I was scared about leaving everything I know to be isolated and insulated for treatment-how could that make things better?

Eventually I had to set the magazine aside and hold my head in my hands and fight the growing anxiety and tightness in my chest. At some point a couple exited the therapy office but I couldn't pay much attention as I tried to reign in my panic and sadness.

By the time I regained enough awareness to wonder how long I'd been zoned out, it was 1:18 pm and well past my appointment time. Had I mixed up my times? No. My phone had been reset a week ago to reflect the changed appointment time... I felt forgotten.

It was a reasonable confusion but in the throws of my anxiety and depression I assumed that my therapist didn't want or care to see me, that I was a hopeless case and behind the back burners of anyone's mind. For a fleeting moment I thought to knock on the door, but the darkness prevailed and I simply left my check on the floor by the door and left the building.

I didn't want to drive so I ended up in a coffee shop and wrote in my journal for a bit. Eventually calls came through regarding the mixed up appointment and I ignored them. I couldn't handle the drama, the awkwardness, and confusion. Eventually I read an email and couldn't reply without tears coming forward.

Fleeing to my car I sent the email saying I didn't think that I could come back for an appointment that day but when my therapist called a few minutes later I took the call and eventually went back for a short therapy session.

It was all very emotional, tiring, and confusing. There was a small moment of clear thinking when I had the idea of knocking on the door and clarifying the appointment mix-up but my bad patterns took over and I spiraled into darker thoughts and sadness. Giving myself time to cry by myself and handle the experience was something positive-at least I didn't drive home and try to forget the whole thing.

A mixed bag. And I am tired and sad.

Saturday Spontaneity!

Hahaha I love the freeze frame at the end of this-crazy face!

On a technical note I will try to get the hubby's help with this autofocus oddness... For the time being we'll call it my "artistic style."

;o)

1st Attempt @ Video Blogging

Yes. I like laying on the ground while I computer. For that matter, I like laying on the floor period... I'm sure some of you fellow floor-dwellers can understand that preference :o) 

Here's my first video blog EVER. I hope to refine this form of blogging and blog more often with this extra form of blogging expression. Definitely a challenge for me to talk instead of type! We'll see how this goes....