Well, I got my crown put on.

It was awkward as shit… every time my lower teeth hit it my brain went

WHY IS THERE GLASS IN YOUR MOUTH!!!!

and my whole body would tremble with goosebumps. It was whack… but it’s better no. I might still need an adjustment, though, because that tooth is just a little too long and my front teeth won’t meet now. Gonna wait a bit, though. See how it changes my bite.

This was, by no means, a PLEASANT experience, but the dentist and the techs were hella nice. They tried really hard to prevent any pain, and were real understanding about my flinching at temperature changes… So, it’s nice to know that I have a place I can go for cleanings without having a panic attack. My last dentist office was full of assholes… but I wrote two entries on that, so I won’t dwell.

(See: The Worst Day of My Life and The Nice People Ripped Up My Gum Line for details)

In other news, I’m on countdown for going to Oregon!

Which means I really gotta get my house clean for when Mothership is taking care of the pets for me… >_> UGH…. The only problem with leaving.

Still, I’m super excited to see mah gurl!!! It feels like eternity since I saw her.

Today it is hecka snowy. (BTW I started saying hecka.)
It started yesterday around four, and hasn’t stopped since. What’s interesting is that it still hasn’t stuck to the roads. I was real worried about that because I went to David’s for his birthday, and I was worried about driving home, but nah: the roads are fine. I just got back from the grocery store (I wanted pizza) and the roads are wet, but not icy or snow-filled. I think it’s because we went from 70 degree weather to this, so the ground is still pretty warm. Plus, it’s a spring snow… those are always wet and heavy, but less icy.

I didn’t do a lot today. Watched Markiplier play Outlast 2, and took a nap… but I feel okay about it. What else was I really going to do, besides maybe clean my room?

My mood has been better. I dunno if it’s because I’ve started self-medicating on the daily, or if I just legit feel better, but both make me want to call and cancel that shrink appt in July. I don’t really like seeing doctors if I can help it. I’m still not HAPPY but I’m not bawling my eyes out and curled up in a ball on my bed anymore. Still, it was so hard to get a damn appt, I guess I should keep it.

I just don’t want them to ask me any more awful questions. The interview for it over the phone was hard. I don’t like talking about things from my past. Shit happened, I’m not that person anymore. I get that it’s necessary to assess how I got to my current mental state, but like… I don’t like feeling vulnerable. I don’t like being out of the power role. I’m that kind of person. I’ll answer family history: my mom’s side tends to have depression and my dad’s side has addiction, oh and also my dad is bipolar. I’ll answer substance questions: I self medicate, but in very strict regulation because I don’t want to grow up to be my dad. I don’t want to answer questions that lead into memories of stupid shit I GOT MYSELF INTO when I had a mild drinking problem… I no longer have a drinking problem. I learned. That piece is no longer relevant to my life, and I don’t want to talk about what happened.

I dunno. I’m defensive about it. No one has a clean past, but mine is just a bunch of dumb shit I got MYSELF into and never told anyone about, and I like to keep it that way… but I don’t like lying to healthcare professionals, even if they DO work for the abomination that is Kaiser Permanente.

Anyways… I’m off to make pizza, and I think I’ll be putting up a 300 Days of Sunshine entry. I’m not sure on what, yet, but I think I should. It’s nice to have some good in your life.

Latuda Costs $1120.00

So… yesterday was awful.

It didn’t START awful. Like, I didn’t wake up already feeling like I should kill myself or blow up a medical building, but I ended the day debating both. I did neither, I promise.

So yesterday I went to see my old primary care doctor, because Kaiser is a piece of shit system that hasn’t afforded me the ability to see any kind of NEW primary care doctor, even though it’s April. I don’t know if I told you guys how hard getting this appointment was, so a brief recap was that I got accused of trying to commit insurance fraud. So, I already didn’t feel GREAT about going in, but I like my doctor and felt like she could throw me a metaphorical bone.

The appointment was as expected, except that the nurse that took my blood pressure and stuff also gave me a Peep… That was unexpectedly nice.

I had to field the normal questions, such as whether I’d lost interest in hobbies, if I still go out, etc. Every answer was, of course, overwhelmingly bleak, so I tossed in that I had a friend to help get me out of the house, and that mom also tried to get me to do things… seemed to make her feel better, even if it’s something of a mixed truth.

She wrote me a script for Latuda, which is an antipsychotic currently being used to treat bipolar depression. It’s not unusual for a bipolar to take an antipsychotic, and I’ve taken one before that was supposed to help with my irritability (it didn’t help with that, but it gave me some wicked nightmares). The reason doctors give out things like antipsychotics to treat bipolar depression, is because if you give us something like an SSRI there’s a good chance we’ll be stuck in a manic state, and they say that can be really dangerous. I disagree, on the grounds that my mania is the best part of my life… but you can’t trust a manic bipolar… we’re impulsive and irrational… so they say.

So I went back to work, but this headache I’d been fighting all day got the best of me and I ended up going home early, before I reached a point where I couldn’t drive. I went home and changed, and then went to the Kaiser pharmacy by the house. I hate that pharmacy… it’s full of weird people, sick people, and Kaiser employees that seem about as happy to work there as I am to have Kaiser Insurance. Still, I was excited to finally get something that could bring some spark of relief. My life has been so heavy and dark recently, that the spark of hope was blinding.

All my hope was obliterated when the pharmacist, who was quite unpleasant to start with, loudly said that my medication cost $1120.00 and that my doctor should put me on something cheaper. People in the back of the pharmacy gasped, and I… didn’t know what to do. She continued on about how Kaiser’s formulary is available online and some other useless facts that didn’t help anyone and just further embarrassed me. So, I just left. I felt like someone had just run over my dog and then blamed me having the audacity to own a dog for why they killed it. I felt like nothing mattered anymore. I was completely devastated.

In my stupor, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I mean what do people do when they’ve lost literally all hope of life ever getting better? Oddly enough, as often as I’ve considered and mulled over suicide, in this moment of absolute wreckage I didn’t consider that at all. I just felt lost and hopeless and like I was drowning. I cried all the way home, which wasn’t really that far, and then decided I should just talk to my mom. She was at a vet appointment for Ava, so I sat on her doorstep and waited for her to come home.

There were tears and stuff, but essentially she just told me to call my doc and see if there was an alternative medication. I did that, but it’s almost 11am the next day and I haven’t heard from the office…

My mom convinced me to try and make a mental health appointment with Kaiser again, so I did that this morning. Kinda.

This part of Kaiser really adds insult to injury. I’m at a place where I need to see a mental health professional. I don’t know how low OTHER people have to be to see a mental health professional, but for me it’s pretty close to rock bottom. Well, since I “self-referred” myself Kaiser won’t schedule the appointment until I have a conversation with a psychiatric nurse and convince her that I’m sick enough to see a doctor. The idea is that she approves the self referral. It’s just insulting, though. I’ve never had to convince someone that I needed a shrink before, and it makes me want to slit my wrists in a Kaiser building and spell out AM I SICK ENOUGH NOW!? all over their walls. Like, this is a shitty way to treat people who are crazy.

Still, I’m sucking it up and I’ll do the fucking phone call… I’m not going to be happy about it. Every single fiber of my being wanted to tell the appointment guy that this is fucked up and I shouldn’t have to convince a nurse that I’m potentially suicidal in order to get an appointment with someone who can give me something for it. The thing about that is that I know that guy is just doing his job… so… I try not freak out on people who are just trying to live. Also, if you mention that this might be some kind of emergency, they just want you to go to an ER. I don’t need an ER right now… and actually if I did I still probably wouldn’t go to one… What’s the point of living if you’re just gonna rack up an incredible amount of medical debt to hang over your head for the rest of your life? Like… no… that doesn’t appeal to me.

We’ll see what happens.

The one thing about hitting a rock bottom, even if it’s not the lowest I can get, is that today doesn’t bother me so much. Work is still shitty, but why wouldn’t it be? I’m still fat, but I don’t care. My overwhelming sadness has been replaced with apathy. Somehow that’s still an improvement. I think when I get home I’m gonna spring and get my Adobe Creative Cloud… start reteaching myself how to make art with it. I can’t draw, but maybe I can restore some old photos or make a collage or something… just something. Cuz why not?

If yesterday didn’t end me, it just proves that it’s going to take something worse than losing all hope for life before I check out early.

Fatigue or Depression???

Am I depressed because I’m tired, or tired because I’m depressed?

I feel like this is the kind of question that a normal person doesn’t have to seriously ask themselves, but it’s a question I’m currently faced with.

I am perpetually tired. I wake up tired, I force my way through the day, and then I go home and go to bed early. It’s shitty. I don’t want to go to the gym, because I’m tired. I don’t want to go out with friends, because I’m tired. I don’t want to go to work, because I’m tired. I don’t want to get out of bed, because I’m tired.

I’m fucking tired, or being FUCKING TIRED.

It’s hard to live when you’re perpetually tired. Getting out of bed is the hardest battle of my day. On the weekends, sometimes I don’t get out of bed at all. Yesterday I got up at one in the afternoon. I only managed that because the dogs and I were hungry. When I do manage to get up, I can’t focus well. Work is hell, because it’s just me trying to focus and then having to redo whatever I was doing because I forgot what I was doing to start with. After work, I haven’t been able to make it to the gym much. I’m fucking tired. I look forward to going home, eating dinner, and sleeping. Consequently, I’m not enjoying my hobbies, because all I want to do when I get home is sleep. Also, my social life is suffering. I don’t have the energy to go out. I don’t want to be out. I want to be at home asleep. So, I’m not seeing my friends, either.

No hobbies, no socializing, no energy to exercise…. It’s no wonder I feel depressed.

Still, am I depressed because I’m tired? Or am I tired because I’m quite deeply depressed?
If I’m depressed, I’ve been depressed since about June… and that’s a problem, too.

I’m cut off contact with the friends I used to have. I talk to all of three people regularly, now. I tell myself it’s because they weren’t great friends… and maybe that’s partially true. They weren’t, but who really is? I haven’t had a real best friend since that girl that stopped talking to me because her boyfriend (who she eventually married and started a family with) didn’t like me. I don’t have someone I feel like I can talk to about anything important.

People always tell you that you can tell them things… but have you actually had someone open up to you? It’s awful. You like them, sure, but you can’t HELP them. What do they really think you can offer them in the way of consolation or advice? I think about this when the thought crosses my mind to tell someone anything. And then I don’t tell anyone anything.

I did go to the doctor, though. Since I’ve been tired since JUNE I decided that warranted a doctor visit. She asked if I’d been sick, and as polite as I could I told her I’d been sick a couple of weeks ago, but not since June. She did a depression survey, and I took time to mention that I’m bipolar, and how I couldn’t be sure if I’m tired because I’m depressed or depressed because I’m tired. We also discussed how I don’t seem to be cycling (I thought about that later and realized I am cycling, just not to the extremes I’m really used to since I’m exhausted ALL THE TIME). In the end, she ordered me a Pulse Oximiter to wear while I sleep to see if maybe I have sleep apnea, and ran a whole lot of blood tests (about six vials worth) and last night I got the call back on it.

I was honestly hoping that there was something wrong with my thyroid or liver. You see, I get really angry when they run all these tests and there’s NOTHING to explain why I feel bad. If they can’t find anything wrong with me, they can’t fix it. It happens a lot, and not just to me. My mom is notorious for thinking she’s dying and the doc not being able to determine why. I don’t, for a second, believe that there’s nothing wrong with me… but according to the blood tests, there’s nothing to explain why I’ve been incapable of being a proper human being since June.

My blood tests revealed I have a viral infection. They didn’t specify what KIND of viral infection, so I don’t know if it’s residual from being sick after going to hang with Bren when Michael was sick (I was so sick after that… and I didn’t even touch the kid) or like an Epstein Barr Viral infection… but they want to see me in a month to see if the infection is gone… Also, my vitamin D levels are REALLY low. They like to see people with a score above 30, but according to the internet a score of 20-50 is considered fine. Mine is 10. So, they want me to take 10k units of vitamin D.

Here’s the thing about vitamin D. When my mom came up with a vitamin D deficiency, the doc told her to take 10k units of it a day. That caused an overdose and she became weak and her whole body hurt. So when you’re deficient, it can cause brittle bones and MIGHT cause fatigue. When you OD you are subjected to pain and weakness. Vitamin D is scary.

So instead of following orders, I’ll be taking 5k units a day… assuming I can remember to take it. They also want to see me in a month to see if the viral infection is gone. So… I’m not real confident that I’m going to feel better any time soon.

I’m going to see if I can WILL myself to feel better.
Make myself go to the gym.
Make myself get back into illustration.
Make myself be social… maybe…

I feel exhausted and sad just thinking about it…

I’ve been awake too long.

Do things that make you feel good until they don’t make you feel good anymore.

Wallow in misery.

Repeat.

Try not to think about the fact this is how drug addicts think.

I could be a drug addict.

I wonder how long they would make me feel good?

Not long enough, if my drug addict friends are anything to go by.

What makes humans beings happy anymore?

Anything?

Rambling Regrets

I complain a lot.
I’m never sure if that’s a side effect of me being a Millennial, or Bipolar, or something I picked up from growing up with a depressed mother who continues to just try as hard as she can.

I mean, Millennials are KNOWN for being complainers… That’s our thing as a generation, apparently (aside from so many of us feeling worthless, not knowing what to do with our lives, being generally cynical and despondent because we don’t have a great starting place in life, debating if college is worth the life-long debt, and having an existential crisis that results in debating suicide a lot… we’re known for all that, too). I feel like it comes from having nothing else to focus on. Other generations had wars… we have troops in combat, but we’re not “at war” in a traditional sense. No one is going to draft us. We wouldn’t stand for such a thing. We aren’t a generation that collectively likes America enough to die for it, much less get bullied into dying for it. The military is seen as a way to pay for college in my generation… so mostly we worry about the future… like social security… and the president… and the crippling debt of going to college… and the sad career implications of not going to college… and where we can find housing… and so we try to push that down… and end up choking on it.

Being Bipolar impacts so many things in my life that it’s hard to say whether or not I’m just being overly Bipolar, or if this is a normal reaction for someone without a mood disorder. I know it’s a normal reaction for someone WITH one…

Then there’s learned behavior. You don’t get out of childhood without your parents imprinting something on you that you should probably work through in therapy. For me, even after years of therapy, the main things that my mom unintentionally and regrettably imprinted on me are 1, life is inevitably shit, and 2, only the threat of death should stop you from work. My mom’s clinically depressed. She used to take meds. They didn’t really do anything to stop the crushing depression, so she, like I, just deals with it as best she can. She’s not usually the hopeless kind of depressed, but the monotonous kind of depressed. You get up, you go to work, and you do that until you die. We don’t take sick days, and we don’t expect things to get better when we’re stressed out or everything has gone to shit. Unlike her, though, I don’t live in constant fear of someone firing me… I know my value, which is something she also imprinted on me. I wish she knew hers.
She also imprinted good stuff on me totally by accident… like being okay being alone and not needing anyone. She doesn’t see that as a good thing, because she’s so used to family being a big thing in her life, but since my family sucks, it’s really an overwhelmingly good thing. She also constantly worries about who I’ll have when she dies… which is not a concern I have. I’ve settled with the fact I’ll probably be alone in life after that, and I’m okay with it… Be miserable together or be miserable alone… what’s the difference?

So, the job’s going fine, I guess… but it’s been a hard couple of weeks.

I don’t do that well with first days. It’s not a lifelong thing. My first day of school was fine. I remember bits and pieces of it… and it was fine. I was excited. I made friends. It was a good day.

My first day of middle school was weird. I hadn’t made friends at my elementary school, since I only spent one year there (I changed schools twice in elementary school), so it was big and terrifying and lonely. It was topped off with the fact that I was a latch-key kid. So I’d go home and lock myself up in my house. I eventually made some friends with some anime fangirls, and aside from the barrage of kids that rode my bus that seemed to want to cleave my head open with rocks, for whatever reason (true story), middle school was mostly fine.

The first day of high school I knew that I would need to find somewhere to fit in. My middle school friends found their place pretty easily, because they were okay with what they were socially. I envied them for that, cuz I definitely was not. They were welcomed with open arms to the table top gamer/anime weebs/thespian/general nerdy geek group. I didn’t want to be part of that group. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my friends, I did, but I didn’t want to be part of a group that was one step above 1980s stereotypical AV club kids. I’d been bullied enough, and I was over it, so I picked out a different group of people thatI thought would give me some implied respect, and just forcibly joined their ranks. (Literally, I just started silently sitting next to them and wearing lots of black until someone talked to me… took like three weeks.) I also kept my old friends, though… My high school experience was a lot less like the movies I grew up watching and was more like a whole school of kids being unsure of themselves as a group and trying to make up somewhere they fit in on the fly. We all had friends in every social group. I guess it was nice, really.

My first day of college was a wreck. I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t really understand how the classes worked. I got lost. I tore all my false nails off. My hands hurt for days.

The first week of this job was hell. I dealt with lots of heater customers that I couldn’t help, which did not make them happier. I went home and cried a lot. I pulled a lot of overtime… and of course, I’m not getting paid hourly anymore, so it doesn’t matter… At the end of the week, in tears, I purchased No Man’s Sky. The idea was that it’s a game with no objective than to explore… so it would be good for relaxing. Thankfully, it worked. I love the game.

I spent a lot of the past two weeks feeling like I’m in over my head here. I probably am, but I’m realistically treading water pretty well, but it doesn’t feel that way. It definitely didn’t feel that way when my Finance guy decided to put in his 30 day notice. It wasn’t because of me, but a lot of things… and he’s sad that we won’t get to work together longer, but you do what you have to for yourself and your family. I get that.

Here’s the thing though… I’m being paid to learn finance. In exchange for that, my job is to cleanup the paperwork. Most of the problems come from the finance guy. He’s a power seller, but he’s not great at paperwork. The finance girl pulls in half as much gross, but has perfect paperwork. So, if finance guy leaves… why would they continue to pay me to learn finance? They could hire two seasoned finance people. They’re everywhere, and it’s a very money-oriented position with a lot of earning potential…

So… been freaking out about that, and trying to learn everything I can as fast as I can, but I can’t learn what they’ve been doing for decades in a matter of weeks… I definitely don’t understand leases…. but I think I can fake my way through paperwork for cash and finance deals… I don’t know that I can sell anything… which makes me less valuable…

Yesterday I was trying to get bill out done for the office, which is also in chaos. As a result, I was here for eleven hours yesterday. I didn’t eat. I went home and went straight to bed… I couldn’t do anything else. Still not hungry this morning, either… and I thought I would be… I don’t know what’s happening to me… I don’t know that I made a good decision asking for this promotion…

All I know is that I have to keep going on. If they fire me, I’ll deal with it then… just gotta keep keeping on, I guess… In true family fashion, you keep going, even if it sucks your soul out…

In lighter news, I named a planet YumYumYum Human Hand in the system of Spoopy Demon Toaster in No Man’s Sky… Here’s a link to why that’s funny.

Boy George & Bipolar

It was a weird weekend…

Saturday I was depressed after Suicide Squad. I dunno why. It kind of perked up after Mothership invited me over for dinner, though. We ordered Chinese and watched Z for Zachariah. The movie was not the post-apocalyptic joy ride I was hoping for. It was more of a chick flick disguised as post-apocalyptic flick… I don’t really recommend it to anyone looking for post-apocalyptic movies… but maybe to people that like chick flicks… I don’t like chick flicks, though, so I’m not sure if it was a good chick flick.

Sunday I woke up hating myself.
It’s not a new occurrence, or even a rare one… but I debated staying in bed and wallowing in my misery. I’ve done it a lot, especially in summer when my room is a thousand degrees (I have no AC) and it’s just an overall miserable experience. Instead, I got up and decided that if I was going to be miserable, I could be miserable and accomplish something.

I am the kind of worker that’s best under a deadline, but for things in my normal life that I don’t really want to do, I’m the kind of person that’s most motivated to work when told that I can’t do something. I dunno why… but if you try to tell me that I can’t do something I automatically want to prove you wrong and punch you. I temper that with reason. If you tell me that I can’t climb Everest… you’re right and we’ll go with that. If you tell me that I can’t climb a 14er… I will either prove you wrong or literally die trying.

This mentality can and does get me in trouble.

But, I got up and decided to do something. It helped that Keagan had an accident in the living room. I got pissed. I’m super productive when pissed. I wasn’t pissed at HIM, because he’s old and accidents happen, but I was sprang from hating myself to hating EVERYTHING. A manic rage is a really productive place for me if I channel it right. So, I put the dogs outside, cleaned up the mess, bagged up all my art shit that I’m not using and took it downstairs, disassembled the dining table and took it downstairs, and asked my mom to help me drag the sofa out to the garage. I also did some dishes.

I’m not currently artsy, too busy to find inspiration, so my art shit was just covering up my dining table, which in turn was just cluttering up my main floor. With those things out of the way I got to move the dog kennels around so that I’m not tripping over them.

The sofa and I have a love/hate relationship. I love having a sofa. I hate the accumulation of dog hair and generally how stained up it’s gotten over the years. I also hate the slip cover because to me it just looks tack as fuck. On top of that, I have the irritating habit of falling asleep on my sofa. It puts a crick in my neck and it’s a super bad habit… so I just gave in and decided it’s gotta go. Mothership is getting a dumpster when she’s off and that, the old dog chair, and some other furniture I’m purging is going in it. She will also be cleaning out her garage, so she’ll have stuff to put in it.

With my main floor mostly empty now, I feel better. I mean, I like to have things, but sometimes I clutter my own life, and it makes everything harder. I also took down a bunch of wall art that I’m just going to give to Good Will. The vampire girl Vaun gave me for my 20th birthday. The Reyes Coral Hotel sign that I held onto in hopes that I would one day reconcile with my dad. My first painting, which isn’t very good but not too bad. The butterfly pictures I stole from Vaun when he was redecorating his dad’s place.

My goal now is to get the main floor painted… Gonna do a blue-tinged white for a calming effect. After that, I wanna tackle the bathroom, then my bedroom, and I figure I can come back to the basement in the winter… ON DAY I WILL BE ABLE TO UTILIZE THE TWO ROOMS DOWN THERE!!! But I figure my current living space is more important.

I was going to try to do more in the evening, because I was exhausted by noon, but I had forgotten that Mothership and I were going to go see Culture Club. For the best, really. I probably wouldn’t have gotten anything done.

I love Boy George! And we were 2nd row from the stage… so like… bad ass seats. It was a great night out! Here are the outfits.

He looked amazing and sounded great. He’s so much fun. ^_^

The ride home was an irritation. Mom walks slow. Downtown Denver is a little shady right now, because we’ve had a rise in homeless population. I’m not saying all homeless people are dangerous, but there have been reports of interactions with them going south, recently. It’s just a thing… people keep moving here… including homeless people. I don’t know why, and I wish they’d stop. So, I had to get us back to a light rail station without her getting mugged… It was mostly fine, but I also started to get a migraine, and it makes me irritable, so I had to try and check my actual feelings and try to be upbeat.

The obnoxious white lights on the train didn’t help the migraine, and it was pretty much full blown when we got back to our station. I asked if Mothership wanted McDonald’s, since it was like 1130 and I knew she was hungry… she did… which was fine, except that it was the slowest service I’ve ever had in my life. Looked like they were short-staffed for the evening and got an unexpected rush. So we had to sit through that.

This morning I woke up and still had the migraine. It sucked. Took some Excedrin and just tried to get to work. Then when I got to work, everything went to hell.

I’m holding up oddly well for someone with bipolar and a migraine… Kinda sad, but I think I’ll make it through the day. Gotta talk to Sean about my role here, though. I’m not sure that the Finance people know how to utilize me, as much as they’re just wanting to train me to be a 3rd finance person.

Not sure how to handle that delicately…

Sometimes I feel like one day I will find out that one of the many times I thought about killing myself, I actually did it, and this whole reality is some sort of sick hell I trapped myself in.

Yesterday was hard for me. I dunno why.

That’s the thing about being bipolar, though, there doesn’t have to be a why. After four days of being manic and barely sleeping, a crash was a predictable happenstance. Yesterday I felt like I was drowning. Yesterday I felt so far in over my head that I just wanted to shut down. I brought home literature on all our products in an attempt to be proactive and gain some kind of footing on what I’m doing. It can’t hurt, but it won’t teach me how deals work.

Today I woke up and everything was fine. I went to see Suicide Squad with mom for breakfast. I wanted more of Jared Leto’s joker, but it was good anyways. 

Now I’m at home. It’s barely noon. I am crying. 

I am overwhelmed with my life.

I dunno what to do.

I just want to throw everything away, but I don’t have the energy.

But it’s just a crash, right?

It’ll get better.