I’m Not Okay

::queue song::

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRFhNZNu_xw

Okay so the song doesn’t really relate… but I’m NOT okay.

I AM NOT OKAY AND I AM TIRED OF NEVER FEELING OKAY AND I WOULD GIVE USE OF MY LEGS TO FEEL OKAY FOR JUST A FUCKING MINUTE.

I’m tired and irritable and I want to scream and throw shit and hurt people. There’s a PC that’s been sitting on my desk at work, and if I had less control of myself I’d take it and go beat a coworker to death with it. I don’t even care which coworker… but I’d beat their skull in with a PC.

I just want to hurt people. I want people to hurt because I hurt and there’s no wound to blame it on. It’s just fucked up emotional turmoil that no one understands or cares about, and it’s got me all fucked up.

Why?

Because this is my life. This is going to be life until such a time as my life ends. This isn’t “the summer I was kinda sad” or some little pothole in the generally good life that is mine. This is my severe mental illness that never goes away, and never gets noticeably better, and will never have a fucking cure. I’m just damned to go through the rest of life feeling hopeless and shitty and impulsively getting drunk so I don’t feel hopeless and shitty for a couple of hours.

Friday I got my bangles back from fuccboi. I call him that, because that’s what I see him as now. He was nice enough, to be honest. We had a couple drinks and I invited him to the gig I was going to, because after three Saisons I was bored and I didn’t care if he tagged along, so long as I didn’t have to bring him back to that side of town. He agreed to cab/Uber/Lyft home. I invited Bird. I got drunk. It was great. 130 came and I went home, and reminded fuccboi I wasn’t taking him home. Somehow he managed to get a ride from Bird… and good for her, being a better person than me, but I was manic and drunk and I don’t give a fuck.

Saturday and Sunday all I did was sit high out of my mind and binge watch Adam Ruins Everything. It’s weird, because I actually felt pretty good when I got up on Saturday, but I still couldn’t DO anything. I sat there for two days, binge eating, and only left the house to go to a movie with mom, where I also ate. I felt like a worthless piece of shit on Sunday evening… and I was correct about that.

All the shit I want to do, all the goals I have for the next year, and all I could fucking do was nothing this weekend.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes you deserve to do nothing. Nothing can be great… this was not great. I could have cleaned up the backyard, done something in the basement, folded the rest of my clothes, mopped, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom, LITERALLY ANYTHING, but no…

I got up this morning and decided this has GOT to end. It sounds motivational, but mostly I’m just pissed off at myself. I’m officially so fat I am sometimes out of breath just trying to wipe my ass. That’s not an exaggeration, that’s the reality of my body trying to maneuver all this fat around so I can reach and most of it cramming into my chest cavity against my diaphragm. That’s too fat. It’s official. It’s too fat. And this weekend? Too much wasted time. Fucking wasted all that time that I could have done something with. And it’s gotta stop, because if it doesn’t stop I have no reason to live.

I talk about suicide a lot. Do you know why? Because I think about suicide a lot. My life is already so fucking meaningless that the only reasons I’m still around is so my mom doesn’t kill HERself, and because I have dogs that I don’t want going back to shelter care. I’m not here because life has meaning, or because life is secretly beautiful, or anything so wonderful as that. I’m here because dying is inconvenient at the moment, but if I’m just going to give up why let my mom watch as I slowly kill myself with food and depression, I could save us both a tortured journey to my grave.

I weighed 288.8 this morning. That’s officially the fattest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I literally didn’t move this weekend. That’s officially the laziest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I’m turning into my grandmother. I just need to get on disability and be addicted to daytime court shows. I can die in my chair, suffocating on my own neck fat. That’s not how she died, but it’s the image I have of her burned into my brain from childhood… just drinking coffee and falling asleep with a lit cigarette in her hand. I loved my grandmother, but I never want to be that. If I’m going to be that, I’d rather be dead.

So if my life is going to be me, not being emotionally okay ever again, I might as well torture myself down to normal people sizes. I’d settle for a Torrid zero, which is a large… a size 12… It’s not the 130 lbs I’ve always wanted to be… but it’s a lot fucking better than here. It’s 3 dress sizes… it’s a lot… but honestly… it’s not like I’m doing anything better with my time, am I?

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I’m Back To Blue

I cancelled my shrink appointment in October, so I’m definitely on my own for mood management again. I hate the med trials, and the very nonchalant way shrinks are just like,

“You have to try shit till it works… that’s all we can do.”

Why is that all they can do? If I have a lung infection they don’t give me random meds until something works. They isolated the likely cause of of lung infections and prescribe antibiotics accordingly. So if I’m having symptoms, why can’t they take those symptoms and give me the BEST option for the most likely culprit of my symptoms?

I’m sad.
You’re bipolar.

Maybe, but I’m only worried about the sad?

We’re gonna treat the mania.

I don’t care about the mania.
Nah, we’re gonna treat the mania.

Will that help the sad?

In theory it might. If not, we’ll add more meds later.

I don’t want more meds. Can we just treat the sad?

No, we’re going to treat the mania and later we can treat the sad.

BUT I’M NOT WORRIED ABOUT THE MANIA!!! I JUST DON’T WANT TO BE SAD ANYMORE GOD DAMN IT! WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME?!

This is why we have to treat the mania… you’re irritable.

Literally my experience with the psychiatric community.

I sometimes worry about my future, as the only thing I can predict about it is that I’ll think about suicide. I already do that a lot, so it’s not a far fetched idea to think that will persist. I worry about reaching a place where I’m in between pets, mom has died, and I feel alone… cuz that’s when it could definitely happen. I don’t have a resilient force of will with suicide, it’s just always been inconvenient. If it were suddenly less inconvenient, I’m not sure what I’d do. I only tried the once as a teenager, and that was a complete failure I never tried to repeat again.

I dunno. I just feel hopeless about everything. I wanna move us to Oregon for a change of scenery, but I have no reason to think that will improve my depression. I’ll just be depressed around a lot of trees instead of in the ‘burbs of Denver. It’s worth a shot, I guess. It’s got Mothership motivated to try and get shit done, at least. A light at the end of the tunnel… just hope it’s not a train.

Aside from being really tired and crying in the bathroom at work, I seem pretty normal, though. I’m even supposed to go see that guy again on Saturday to get my bangles back from him. He’s really nice. I’m still sad that isn’t gonna work out. I don’t really think that subjecting a normal human being to my bipolar sociopathic ass is really good for either of us, though. People like me are what Lifetime movies are trying to warn you about.

Randomly, I keep thinking about my ex… the one I’d like to drag into the street an beat to death before setting his body on fire… I’m not sure why. It’s been almost 8 years since the breakup, and I’ve ever dated since then, but I can’t let it go. I still wanna hurt him. I guess that’s from the lack of meds. All the emotions that swirl underneath my calm demeanor are bubbling over cuz they can. It’s just a random thing to feel so angry about this much time later. Some hurts never go away, I guess….

Anyways, I’m depressed…. but I think it’s okay right now.

I’m gonna try to start hitting the gym… I hate the gym, but I do sleep better if I can get all the rage out… and I’d like to lose some weight if that’s possible (like a whole person worth of weight, tbh).

Better Kind of Weekend

So, Friday night was a bust… I dunno if you read that entry, but I was really fucking depressed. I ended up NOT going to my Halloween in July party, and slept for 14 hours instead. I regret not going. I bet it was a hella good time, but I was too depressed to be out somewhere… not because I couldn’t have gone, cuz I could have, but because in a mental state of depression I get really…. impulsive. If I’d gone, I’d have paid for the Lyft to and from, then the $20 at the door, and then proceeded to drink myself into massive debt. I drink a couple hundred bucks worth of tequila in a pretty small amount of time, so while I regret not going, I do not regret not going in the mindset I was in… It wouldn’t have been any fun, anyways, and I saved a good $300 I didn’t need to spend (assuming I didn’t start buying drinks for rando people cuz I was wasted… also a thing I do).

I didn’t really feel better when I got up the next morning, but I clawed my way out of the bed and went to get a hair cut with Mom, anyways. I kept apologizing for being sad. She just pat me on the back and said it was okay. She’s so much better about my mood swings these days than she used to be, but I was still sorry. I get so overwhelmed sometimes and I can be really short with people. She used to take that personally, but over time we are doing better at it.

After the movie we tried a new theater to see Despicable Me 3. We will be going back to Movie Tavern instead. The whole experience was meh. The movie was cute, especially for a third installation of a series… I didn’t expect it to be GREAT, but it was cute. I liked it. Also, I now want a goat.

Saturday evening I had a bbq/party to go to at the Polygon. The Polygon is a communal living home full of poly people. I’m not poly, but they always invite me to stuff, so I go. They’re nice people.

I was looking forward to this party, in particular, because of a party I went to there a few years ago when I was really into binge drinking. I drank a lot and hooked up with this guy. It was not a memorable hookup, other than by the time we actually got somewhere to hookup I was tired and didn’t really wanna… and I lied about being religious as a reason not to give him a bj (“I pray with this mouth… I can’t.” hahaha). By the Polygon standards it really shouldn’t have been a thing, anyways, as I was REALLY drunk, and didn’t give ENTHUSIASTIC consent… it was more that I gave in… but whatever. I remembered him because he spent like 30 minutes telling me about how he was Jewish, and then made this comment about a chick not asking to have one of the beers he brought for the party… so I told him not to be a Jew about it… because… I’m me, and I thought that was funny. He did too, and I think that was when he decided he’s like to bang me. The fun part of the hookup was that afterwards I immediately went home while he put himself back together. I said goodbye to no one. I just ninja’d outta there and booked it home.

So a couple of months ago I was over helping one of the housemates make a YouTube video, and after we got done she was like, “This is where (dudebro) puked after you fucked him. He’s still mad you left after that, by the way.” I was like, Really?! It was 4 years ago… But I just filed that information away.

CUT TO THE PARTY.

I’ve been there for a while, having a lovely time, and I go to pee. No one is inside the house because the Polygon has no air conditioning, but the doorbell rings. There’s a sign that says to just come in, but the doorknob is a lil wonky and I guess they couldn’t get it open. So I wash my hands and go answer the door. AND IT’S THE GUY of course. Lol. He’s there with a lovely woman he brought as a date, and I let them in and say hi. He looks at me, his get huge, and then he puts on a straight face and goes, “I think… I know you right?” Like he legit couldn’t remember, which I knew was false since the housemate had told me he was still pissy. So I just start laughing maniacally. I couldn’t help it. So I’m laughing like some kind of insane person, and all I can do is choke out, “Yeah, hi (dudebro’s name)” and left them both there at the front door. I probably laughed for like 20 minutes. The rest of the party Dudebro avoided me. I made a point to chat up his chick friend, though. She was alright. Little… aloof… but she was also high as a rocket, so I didn’t think too much about it.

The rest of the party was good, though. I talked to lots of people, I got electro stimulation on my back, and I ate a lot of these crackers someone brought. When my feet hurt, I went home, though. People were getting too drunk or twisted to make conversation, so I just ninja’d out again. Most of the housemates had retreated to the depths of the house anyways, so I’m not sure anyone particularly would’ve noticed. I was home before midnight, but I’d had a good night.

Sunday I got up and made vegetable korma in the crockpot and clean before taking Mothership to pickup her new car. Really that just meant I got to play with the broker’s dog… his name was Bowser, and he was some kind of poodle mix looking thing that liked to play fetch. We played lots of fetch while she chatted with him. He used to be our GM, so they talk shop a lot. I didn’t do too much after I got home after that. Watched Planet of the Sharks (Waterworld meets Mad Max meets Jaws… it was awful).

Monday morning has been less pleasant.

I already wasn’t looking forward to today because I’m going to see a shrink today about my bipolar depression, and I have no faith that she has anything she can prescribe me that I would be interested in taking. I considered cancelling the appointment several times, but it takes SO LONG to see someone (made the appt in March) that I figured I’d just keep it and see what she has to say.

To make matters worse, my GM threw a fit over the cameras over the weekend. He had this camera system installed without consulting me, the outside IT company we use, or the corporate IT guy. So it’s never quite worked right. He got all upset that it’s not working right, and somehow it’s MY fault it’s not working right. No. Just no. I am doing the best I can with what limited knowledge I know about the cameras to just make it work at all.

He also went off about not having the password to install shit on his work laptop… which I know I gave him. And he was bitching about his PERSONAL MAC AT HOME which I am in no way responsible for. He didn’t include me, so I’m fucking out. I passed it off to the outside IT guy, and that’ll be what he does when he gets here while I’m at the shrink. I don’t WANT to know about the camera system. Not even a little bit.

I’m so over this GM, tbh. He’s an overzealous, disorganized, piece of hipster trash, more concerned with his tight suits and the line cut into his part than doing anything around here correctly. He just does shit and then piles figuring out the details on whoever is available, and I’m fucking over it. Do it right, or don’t fucking do it.

I’ve got to put real effort into my liquidation… so I can get the fuck out of here. I’m also putting real effort into my debt consolidation. I’ve got a decent credit score, but when we jump ship and run away to Oregon, I really wanna be able to take a lesser job… I could happily be a biller if we can just get together enough money to flat out buy a house without a mortgage payment… and since we’re selling here, and buying there, the economic difference MIGHT allow that. Here’s hoping.

Anyways. Feeling okay today… we shall see what shrinky dink lady says… I’ll listen to her, but I’m not going to get my hopes up that she’ll listen to me.

I’m not okay, but it’s not like it matters

Things are… hard… right now.

Mom still has pneumonia (since March) and she isn’t getting better, but insists on going to work anyways. My title gal is out on emergency surgery, so I’m covering for her, which means double duty at work, and doing a job that stresses me out anyways (titles means talking to a lot of people, and we know I hate having to talk to people). I’m sick with… something that makes my chest heavy and causes extreme fatigue. My moods are all over the place, we’re coming up on month end, I’ve made NO progress at getting my house ready to sell so I can focus on moving, and I’m losing summer….

Everything is awful and hard, and I can’t stick to my diet, and all I want to do is sleep, and my friend that SHOULD understand what I’m going through right now is too busy being selfish and wrapped up in his own life and it’s tiny social bullshit to actually listen to me. Meanwhile I have a friend that keep telling me I’d feel better if I worked out, which makes me wanna punch him in his stupid face, because if I had the energy to work out I fucking would. My other friend is really sweet but not really someone I’d ever want to talk about this shit with.

I just… Want to shut down.

I’m so tired, and I’m overwhelmed, and I’m sick….

My boss asked if I wanted to stay home today, but I can’t do that because month end is coming, and I need to be far enough ahead on titles to be able to stop doing titles for month end…. and I’m not there.

Today she was like, are you okay?

And the answer is no… but it doesn’t matter if I’m okay. The world doesn’t really care. I have shit to do and responsibilities. No one REALLY cares if you’re okay except your mother (if you’re lucky). Everyone else just wants to be sure you’re able to work, otherwise you can be replaced.

I FUCKING HATE KAISER

Haven’t checked in since May 29th… Lemme tell you why.

After getting back from Oregon, I started making a lot of plans… all of which I still have, but don’t seem to be able to execute quickly. It has sucked. I feel real discouraged about it. I have been REAL depressed about it. I genuinely don’t even know how I’m supposed to accomplish anything.

On top of general demotivation and depression, Mothership has MFing Pneumonia!

Let’s recap.
In March, Mothership got sick. It went on for a while, and then she saw a very Kaiser doc (NP I think) who gave her some lil Z pack thing. It never went away and escalated to bronchitis. Pretty typical for Mothership. A very nice doc at an Urgent Care gave her some big antibiotics. It still never went away. She saw a very professional Nurse Practitioner, who had her get a chest xray, decided it was early-onset community obtained pneumonia (not to be confused with hospital obtained pneumonia) and gave her two shots in the butt of antibiotic and a course of Prednisone and Levaquin (which is an antibiotic they use for pneumonia and anthrax). After she stopped taking that, she spiraled down into terribleness. So we went back and saw a really abrupt, terrible at explaining anything, shitty bedside Mannering Kaiser MD name Deja Vandeloo, who gave her another course of the Levaquin. I mention her name, because she was rude to my mother, who is TERRIFIED because her brother DIED of pneumonia, which I fucking told that doctor, who did not give a shit. She was rude, short, didn’t care, and didn’t explain herself well. She essentially told us NOT to come back. Lemme be clear: We weren’t asking for more meds, we were concerned that my mother was spiraling after taking very LARGE meds, and her brother DIED of pneumonia, so it’s not something to play with. If this was normal for pneumonia recovery, she should have just FUCKING SAID SO, but she deemed it necessary to give out more meds, and thankfully they seem to have worked, but FUCK MAN. I DIDN’T GO TO MEDICAL SCHOOL. I AM NOT A DOCTOR. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT RECOVERY FROM PNEUMONIA LOOKS LIKE. Fucking explain yourself.

Also, she said that she would NOT have done the stuff that the previous NP did, which I thought was unprofessional as fuck, and rude, not just to the NP, but to the patient who is sitting there going, “AM I GOING TO DIE BECAUSE YOU PEOPLE ARE INCOMPETENT???” Also, getting an appointment with any of these people was fucking insane, because Kaiser does not have enough doctors to treat their patient base.

I fucking hate Kaiser.

RELATED:
A person I know recently had to have emergency surgery with Kaiser. They were sent home sans antibiotic, which I, someone who has had multiple surgeries, found immediately odd. The next day the were spiraling down, and Kaiser, UNABLE TO SEE THEM FOR ANY KIND OF APPOINTMENT told them to TAKE PICTURES OF THE SURGICAL SIGHT AND EMAIL THEM TO A DOCTOR. So, upon viewing them, they rushed this person BACK into the hospital where they opened them again to clean out the infection. I’m assuming sepsis. Fortunately, they’re keeping this person for observation and more cleaning out of the surgical sight, but I do not trust them at all.

KAISER DOES NOT CARE IF YOU DIE, AND HONESTLY THEY ACT LIKE THAT WOULD BE A LOT EASIER FOR EVERYONE.

I got sick Sunday night. Very sick. Monday morning I would have rather died than come to work… but we’re short and I’m a team player. Still got body aches and sinus probs and shit, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to go to Kaiser doc to treat it. Fuck that noise. I’d literally rather buy drugs off the street than try to see a Kaiser doctor for anything. If only I knew someone peddling basic prescriptions.

To add to my misery, I woke up this morning with a swollen eye. Not sure what that’s about… waiting to see if it clears up or gets worse… Least I know I can see an eye doctor that isn’t Kaiser…

I see a Kaiser shrink on July 10th.
I don’t even want to go. I made the appointment in MARCH and that was the SOONEST they could get me in. I’d cancel, but it’s so fucking hard to get an appointment, and I might spiral into suicide at any minute, that I figure I’ll just fucking go.

Everything is awful.
I hope every single Kaiser building in the nation catches fire at the same time and the whole company is bankrupted by the damages and forced out of existence by an act of god/nature. Because fuck Kaiser. Fuck Kaiser with every fucking fiber of my being.

And fuck my corporation for thinking Kaiser was EVER a good idea. You know the people at the corporate offices aren’t dealing with this shit. Fuck them.

Grieve & Get Ready

You can listen to this entry by clicking here.

Yesterday, I was pessimistic, but hopeful.
This morning I woke up to devastation.
I, like many others, am terrified.

Come inauguration day, January 20th, we will be living in Trump’s America.This is a version of reality that I never actually gave credence to until right now. I was prepared for four years of Hillary, as flawed as she was, but in no way am I mentally prepared for whatever is to come under the rule of Donald Trump: loud-mouthed, hate-spewing businessman with a long line of failure and a longer list of offenses.

People have already said it, but I will say it again: Donald Trump has proved what is great and what is terrible about America, and that is that ANYONE can become president.

A lot of people are speculating whether the Trump Inauguration will, in fact, happen come January. To those thinking he’ll back out and realize that he’s in over his head, I’d like to remind you what kind of narcissist we are dealing with. To those thinking that his upcoming court cases can save us with an impeachment, I’d like to remind you that Trump supporters did not seem to care what happened to land him in that courtroom. No, America, I’m afraid that against all hopes we will be facing an orange president, and we’re just going to have to deal with it.

I am not suggesting that we take this lying down. Mourn today. Mourn for the next 70 days if you must, but do not despair, for this is not over. I know a lot of people are grieving America right now: LGBTQIA+ people, People of Color, Women, white people who thought that other white people had maybe just cooled the fuck down for a god damn minute… and it is completely expected for you all to be angry, sad, scared, and lost. Please take care of yourselves and each other. But when you have cried until there is nothing wet left in you, and you have screamed all of your rage to heavens with throats made hoarse with ferocity, I urge you to meditate on your pain and your fear. Find the source and know it’s there, and then take that energy and fight. The fight for us, for you, for the people you care about, your nation, and your future, is not over until we are dead, my friends; and while we have taken a hard blow to what we have fought so hard for, we are not yet in the ground.

This election is historic, not because Hillary Clinton was almost the President of the United States, but because never before has half the country been so fearful of a potential leader. Even my mother, who has seen eleven presidents come and go, has never been SCARED of the president elect before. We, as a country need to use that fear.

A scared animal is the most dangerous. A scared nation is one rash move away from chaos. That is why we, as a country, need to harness all that fear and anger and make plans. We need to be involved. We need to TALK to each other. We have to stand up for each other and fight for each other. When Trump comes for one group, and he will, the rest of us need to be there to keep him from taking them, otherwise, who will be there when he comes for you and yours?

I’m not traditionally a political person, but Donald Trump is a danger to us all, and I’m not about to sit back and watch him strip away everything my friends, family, and my nation have fought so hard for. If that means I have to go out of my way to campaign, protest, learn, and change, then I will. I will do what I have to in order to protect my people. All of my people.

I don’t know who will hear this podcast or read this blog, but if you can hear me, I urge you to do what you can to make Trump’s reign a single term, and to make that term a struggle for him every step of the way. We have 1454 days to ensure that something this catastrophic, this embarrassing, and this terrifying NEVER happens again.

I’ve done the math… and I am fucked.

Firstly, I took this position without really knowing the details. I didn’t want to take the position without knowing the details, but my boss man isn’t great at knowing the details. I took the chance based on the idea that this was a great opportunity for me…. So I took it and hoped for the best. At least it was different. At least it was something besides titles.

Secondly, I bought a car for two reasons. One, because I drive myself to work everyday now. Two, I thought I’d be making enough to cover that. I love my car. I named her Gaz, the Rav4. I still love Topo, the Jeep. We kept her, because has no trade in value, but she’s definitely not worthless. She’s now the designated dog-transport vehicle, and I try to drive her on the weekends.

I just got paid today. I have exactly $94 to get me through to the 20th. That’s for gasoline, entertainment, groceries…
Fortunately, I use mid-grade fuel and so it gets me farther than unleaded, but it’s not cheap and I’d estimate I need like $50 for that… fortunately I have no social life, but I’m supposed to buy something when I go to a friend’s for dinner on Friday (but he’s sober so at least it’s not booze)… fortunately I can live on the contents of my house for a while and that I have a strange affection for ramen (I have a propensity not to really eat real food at this point, anyways)…
Unfortunately, I have four dogs and a cat… and Bdo gets special dental food so I don’t have to have his teeth ripped out… so that’s a good $17, and a bag of reg food for everyone else is like $14… So I’ve spent $81 metaphorically in my head already…

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I can make this budget work… but it’s going to be tight and terrible. It would be better if I didn’t have so much credit card debt, but I do. I cant’ tell my mom about that, of course, because I don’t want a lecture on my poor financial skills. I’m aware of them… but I don’t get the luxury of them anymore or we are going to starve. Ain’t that nice? Kinda. Maybe I will finally get out of debt.

This position is also terrible. I mean, no, it’s not terrible, but it’s not what I thought it would be. It’s been very stressful. I’ve often cried all the way home from work, and I’ve stopped eating lunches all together, which is a combination that’s lead to lots of binge eating. We all know how I feel after binge eating!

I’m just tired of crying… and this thing where I’m incredibly broke now is NOT GOOD.