So shut up and fuck me. This is the woman I have turned into.
As my husband lovingly strokes my arm I’m just not into it and say this is about orgasms not romance.
I love being touched don’t get me wrong. I could sit and snuggle for hours but I just don’t have the patience in the boudoir that I used to have.
Heck I am usually not in the mood for sex at all. Though in the past seven days I’d had it twice. Why? Purely selfish reasons. My own pleasure.
My husband will go weeks and weeks without anything then all of a sudden I say come here let’s do it. Am I ruining the experience for him and just breaking it down to the way a man wants it?
I so used to be into the romance and the tenderness but I just have no patience for it anymore. I don’t understand why. I honestly feel like a kid with ADD when it comes to sex.
I’m frustrated with myself because I want to want the romance. Not that hubby has ever been that great a romantic. He at least tried from time to time.
On an unrelated note yesterday I was in that super bitchy mood and still went out and took my pictures and something interesting happened. My bad mood went from almost getting out of the car to punch a selfish chick in the face, to being able to watch girls do what I call whore yoga in a park with amusement.
What is whore yoga you ask? It’s when young women dress in skimpy bikinis and the do head stands and other things that pretty much put themselves out for the world to see. Trust me girls that is not the way to get a husband.
Anyhow mood has been better since then. Not sure how it is going to turn out today but I’m curious to find out.
That is how my brain is working right now. Hello, Goodbye. It’s a swift switch.
I’ll give some examples. I love scratch and wins but I could not bring myself to gleefully rub away at the puzzle. I actually put it aside. I’ve never done that before.
Next I was decided I really need to know what I need to be prepared for Lap band surgery and everything that goes with it. I put in the search for the info then just went meh.. I don’t care.
Luckily my bestie caught me the day before yesterday and talked me into making an appt. with a psychologist before things started going down here. So I have that set up for July 1st (Canada day woot) but that means we are going to have to push the drive to make it. Honestly I’m okay with that if I can start working on my mental health again. A little over a month. I hope I can survive.
I’m mostly tired and numb. The numb is what really gets to me though. Even going for my daily picture thing and writing my blogs is a chore. I love doing those things though. Even if I have horrible writers block I can usually come up with a poem, but now I am having to struggle.
When do I get to be happy? You know a constant state of normality where I can do things and enjoy things and just not go through this cycle.
If the shrinks were most concerned about the depression then the mania, I likely would have gotten in with the ECT doctors and gotten that started. I don’t know that I am ever going to trust any doctors, but we fucking need them don’t we. They can be as shitty as they want because they know we need them.
Today I got up for an hourish then went back to sleep again. Then I woke up and decided that I had to go take my pictures for the day so I asked hubby to take me out to Malibu. I’ve been taking a lot of pictures of beaches lately. We stayed at the lagoon and beach for about an hour or so maybe a little longer and then I got like weak tired. I figured I might need some food since all I had had today was 4 donut holes to get a pill down my throat.
So I ate and didn’t feel so weak and kittenish but I did feel exhausted so I went home and went to sleep. I woke up a few hours later much to my chagrin. I am still tired, I feel like a zombie and the only reason I am up is because I want to post my pictures and do my blogs. I need to keep my word to myself.
I am so frustrated I haven’t gotten any packing done the last two days. We leave in 26 days or so my timer may be off but I am feeling too lazy to correct it, I likely have it set to the 23rd when we are leaving the 25th.
Anyhow I can tell the depression is back because of the tiredness and my urge to curl my lip in a snarl at everything. Need to keep on my toes.
If you have any interest in my daily photo’s you can check them out HERE
And no not like Joey from Blossom Woe, the sad bitter want to stay in bed all day why the fuck did I wake up woes.
I feel like shit emotionally. I realized during a chat today that my supposed shrink never called me back when I called him to tell I was stopping the lithium. No leaving a message saying hey you should try something else, nothing. Why do I get so unlucky with shrinks? A fucking mood disorder clinic and I get the a resident who doesn’t give a fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK.
Why can’t I have more control over my depression. I can be logical with myself about it but I just feel hopeless regardless of the pep talk that I give myself. I wish that I enjoyed being drunk but I hate the way it feels and for once I don’t feel like eating. That’s something isn’t it? Too bad starving yourself is just as bad as force-feeding yourself.
I keep worrying about the Omaha thing not happening, because I don’t deserve to be happy and this is making the anxiety worse. I know it is unrealistic but it’s absolutely terrifying. It’s something I think about every day. No matter what my mood it pops it’s ugly head up constantly. The depression is making it much much worse, which I didn’t think was possible.
The depression is getting bad and I can tell because I am listening to happy and not even tapping a toe. This song could make a dead person dance.. fuck …
Yesterday I walked around the block by myself and felt pretty good about it. Doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to most but I wasn’t even going out 2 months ago, let alone, alone. I decided to do it again today. I was fine walking around the block, talking in my head to myself about how it wasn’t a big deal. I had to pee the whole time so that kind of kept me focused enough to go around the whole block.
When I got into the apartment though my hands started shaking, my breathe became quick and I felt like fainting. I’ve never fainted, ever.. I often wonder when I start hyperventilating if this is going to be the time that I do. I guess not this time.
When I have a panic attack which this clearing is the walls start closing in, giving me that disassociation I often have. It makes me feel like I am looking at the world through one of those boxes you make to watch eclipses, if that makes any sense.
I thought I would run and grab a clonazepam and wait for it to work, but I am going to breathe through it, write through it, deal with it.
My depression might be starting to take a hold but I am not going to let the anxiety ruin an accomplishment for me. So I am going to breathe, slow.. breathe, calm..
This is my opinion and pertains to me only, so don’t have a shit fit 😛
I feel like I am still stuck in my teens. I am rebellious, precocious, dramatic, manipulative and many other things that pertain to the angst of being a teenager.
I want to be a grown up, but I realize that when it comes down to it, I am just stuck on an emotional level. My husband says I see him as an authority figure as I often say no just to be spiteful. Sometimes I think that is true. Of course when he says it to me I deny it completely because seriously why would I admit that?
It gets worse the more depressed I get typically. When I am happy I am agreeable to most things. I am also more responsible, I spend less and I eat better. My depression is starting to raise it’s ugly head.
I have said in the past few weeks I have been weepy. Well it’s getting worse. Almost anything is setting it off. Really it could have better timing. I have packing to do, I have pictures to take and walks to go on.
I’m starting to feel drained though. Less likely to do anything. This is always the hardest time to be an adult and keep my word. I need to take better care of myself this time around. I can’t let it immobilize me. I need that teenager that is in me to rebel against the depression.
Really all I can do is hope. Right now I am fighting the urge to just curl back up in bed and sleep. My grapefruit is still sitting on the counter as I decided to eat crackers and cheese popcorn for my breakfast/lunch. Ugh.
I always feel if I post something on my blog I am more likely to do it, so no matter how shitty I feel tonight I will still go out and take my pictures and I will pack one box as soon as I am done this post. *fingers crossed*
So far the not taking anything is going ok. I am not having any weird withdrawal from the Lithium. I am still getting weepy once in a while but that started before I stopped taking it and may be more linked to my depression. Maybe I’m just feeling things, who knows.
I went out for a walk around the block by myself it’s about a mile and it seemed longer while I was walking it. I had on my iPhone listening to applause by Lady GaGa. It made me walk like a runway model. On the outside I would appear perfectly normal to people. On the inside well I am always fighting with myself as long I don’t start arguing with myself I am good lol.
It’s a beautiful day, I plan to go to the beach later, hopefully at sunset to get some nice pictures. I am really proud of myself for going out. It’s hard every time I take a step out of that door but I know it will get easier in time with practice.
The positive thing about being off of drugs is that I can have GRAPEFRUIT!!!I have missed it so much. It interacts with everything so to be able to sit down with a half a grapefruit and a spoon will be positively delightful. I am picking some up tonight!
Friday hubby found out he is going to have to go out of town on the 11th-13th. I’m not happy about it. I’m stressed out about it. What if something happens to me emotionally. What if I have a breakdown? What if, what if?
I’ll deal with it though. I will post on my blog and remember that I am not truly alone. What a bad time to run out of weed.. but what are you going to do right?
I’ve never allowed myself to feel empowered. I’ve always sat by fearful of letting my thoughts or feelings known in case I was judged as crazy.
I’m taking control of my mental health and what goes into my body, I will feel empowered. I may not be able to be drug free in fact to be honest I am 80% sure I will need to go back to medications. That’s alright. For now I am going to let my body cleanse itself of the poisons that have been forced into it by each uncaring doctor that treated me like I am nothing but a number.
I am a number, number one. I’m not a faceless patient who can spoken to about generalized mental health care while not receiving the help that I really need. I will no longer sit there afraid about changes that are going on with my physically and mentally while doctors only have fifteen minutes once a month to fit me in. Screw that.
I’m taking my mental health care into my own hands. I am going to do what I think is right. It is my body and mind. I will find someone who will listen to me and work with me instead of trying to talk me into doing things I am uncomfortable with.
That’s not to say I won’t have break downs, but they will be mine. Not caused because I did something I didn’t feel comfortable doing. I will survive and fight all my issues one day at a time.
Today I am still feeling good about going off the Lithium. I woke up still feeling blechy. I don’t expect a change over night though. I am going cold turkey the worst I read about doing it is the chance of mania. I can deal with it. If there is a problem hubby knows how to deal with me. So far so good though.
That’s not to say I am not afraid of being drug free, of course I am. I would be a fool not to feel like that. I remember what I was like before being medicated and I know there are risks. I am at least going into this with more knowledge about myself and my illnesses though. Reading bipolar’s blogs, magazines, support boards I am way better equipped. I plan on getting back on some kind of regimen once I go home to Omaha until then I am tired of doctors who don’t give a shit just handing me one thing after another. Screw it.
I am doing my own exposure therapy that is getting me out each and every day. Today I went out to the La Brea tar pits and also had lunch it was fun. I had very little anxiety thanks to breathing and clonazepam. Plus it wasn’t that crowded which helped a lot. I went to a new restaurant today so that I could push myself out of my comfort zone. I am going to keep working really hard on this. Eventually I want to be able to go out alone and drive (hubby said I could have any year mustang I want if I get my license) I never thought I would drive, so who knows. Things are changing.
Every day I take a step forward towards healing and being a happier person. I must fight, that’s why I’m alive. I don’t give up even though I sometimes really want to.
I am just getting more and more physically ill. This morning I actually threw up and frankly that is the last damn straw. Yes I am bipolar 1 and bat shit crazy but I would rather feel decent physically so I can concentrate on my mental health. I called the shrink and told him that I wanted off and I told my husband. My husband fully supports me going off it, he has seen my health declining and my mood still not where it is supposed to be.
Maybe now they will consider the ECT, if not I’ll wait until I get to Omaha and get a new pdoc. I promised hubby if I start to feel off I would let him know and we could discuss me going to the hospital if it gets bad. (which terrifies me but may be necessary). I’m frustrated with all these meds. I’m tired of always feeling like I am on the edge of some kind of bodily accident. *shudder*
I was going to post about a subject my husband and I were talking about last night. Actually it just sort of popped up as we were getting home from my picture taking. My therapy and need to deal with my past. I never really think about it bugging me. I have no problems mentioning the things that have happened and I am sure talking to a therapist they will figure out how to make it cathartic during therapy.
My husband said to me I’ve seen the way your family treats you now and I know that it was worse before, just from that you need some therapy. I suppose he’s right. I can talk about all the horrible things that have happened to me with indifference. That is probably not the healthy choice. I would not be surprised if I didn’t have some PTSD from the sexual abuses, rapes, physical assaults etc. I think I’ve just put up some kind of very thick skin about it rather than deal with it.
There’s a reason I have borderline personality disorder right? I am really looking forward to getting to the bottom of it.