Purple Spots

Kaiser is so fucking weird. Last time I wanted to see a shrink it took THREE MONTHS before I could get in… and I was really worried I wasn’t gonna make it that long. Today I called to get in and they’re like, “we could get you in with the shrink you saw last time early next week, but if you wanna see a new shrink we can get you in first week of April.” Really? Just two weeks? And it’s only that long because I didn’t want to see the same shrink I saw last time (as she is dead to me after her blatant disregard of my disdain for sedative medication).

Anyways… I get to see a new shrink! So… that’s fine. I mean, life’s been bad, and getting worse, but I’m having a weirdly good day for someone who didn’t sleep last night. I tried really hard, but yesterday was super hella blue.

Let’s backup.

I made it into work, but on the way home I was just… defeated as fuck. We’re still down a biller, I’m training three new people, and the title gal went on vacation this week because she’s moving. I cried all the way home, and my mom encouraged me to go to my book club even though I was super blue. So, I bought some cigarettes, chain-smoked the whole way there, and actually had a really good time. I really enjoyed the book this month: Annihilation. It was really Lovecraftian, and I flew through it. I started book two when I got home from book club, and it’s really different, but I think I’ll finish the series anyways.

For the first time in my life I found getting out of bed almost impossible. I’ve had low days, but Tuesday is one of the lowest days I’ve had since all this mood swinging like a wrecking ball started in eighth grade. I managed to get out of bed, and even shower, but then I couldn’t imagine leaving the house. It was 100% outside of the realm of things I was physically capable of doing. So, I called bosslady and told her I had a cough and issues breathing, and asked if I could work from home. I wasn’t opposed to working, but I just… couldn’t leave the house. I actually got a lot done from home, and it was fortunate I’d brought stuff home anyways. #YayRemoteAccess

Hump Day was hard. I woke up, and I was determined to get into work, but I ended up about an hour late. I informed bosslady, obviously, and she knows I’m having problems, so she said that was fine, and that I could leave early. I did not leave early. I had some kind of mixed episode where I was pretty much hysterical but channeled it into trying to do EVERYTHING at once… and it literally startled bosslady. She tried to get me to go home at four, and I ended up staying a full eight hours “because there’s too much to get done.” But like… I was breaking…

So I went home. Mom had me try on some clothes she got me for Easter, to be sure they were the right size. I went home and refused to eat dinner… meditated on the idea that maybe I just wouldn’t eat again… and how last time I lost a lot of weight in a short period of time no one was concerned, because when you’re a fat girl that stops eating, or exercises herself to death, or binges and purges, people think the weight loss is great and no one asks how you lose 30 lbs in a few weeks. With my head spinning and my stomach feeling familiarly vacuous, I couldn’t focus on TV, so I played a few rounds of Star Realms before heading to bed with a book. Figured I’d wind down for an hour and be asleep by ten.

I was not asleep by ten. I was very awake. I put on white noise and laid in the dark for an hour. When the white noise shut off, I was still awake. So I turned on all the lights, got up, did a few things, turned on a fan and the humidifier, and then laid back down with some soft lo-fi hip hop to relax to. An hour later I was still awake and I had this pop song called RIIICH stuck in my head. It was annoying.

I tried thinking STOP STOP STOP or SLEEP SLEEP SLEEP, I counted sheep, I tried sleeping on the floor, I tried sleeping sitting up, I tried meditation, I took a 30 mg temazepam, I opened the window, I turned everything off… I got up and went downstairs, and in the dark biked on the hardest setting until my legs ached in an attempt to wear myself out. I was still awake… and all I wanted to do was sleep… and it broke me.

I’m not knew to self harm or various creative ways to do it, but this was the first time I got so angry that I pretty much beat myself into submission. I slapped myself in the face, hit myself upside the head, punched and smacked my thighs till they burned, screamed, cried, and when it was all said and done I took to this weird game I’d played as a kid. I don’t remember why, but when we were kids there was some game where the punishment was someone hitting you with two or three fingers on your wrist or forearm. Every time my brain tried to think, after I laid back down, I’d hit myself on the arm. By the time I had calmed down, my arm ached like I’d slammed it in a door. This morning I woke up and thought it would be all kinds of colors, cuz it still hurt. Fortunately for me, it was just splotched purple. Still hurts like a bitch, though. There’s a definite swollen spot, but it’s not noticeable to anyone except me.

I never did sleep, I don’t think. I just managed a general nothingness till the alarm went off this morning. The dogs were concerned, but they are regrettably used to this kind of behavioral outburst. I hate that they’re used to it…

For someone that went totally batshit crazy and didn’t sleep, I’ve had a weirdly good day. I put on a nice purple sweater and cute boots. I’ve been very pleasant at work. I had a breakfast burrito and then meatloaf for lunch, in case you’re worried I didn’t eat today. I’m planning on Schlotsky’s for dinner, and I’d really like to maybe finish one of my books I’m reading tonight, but also get in some Star Realms time. I bought a ticket to a concert for tomorrow night, too.

Am I manic? I dunno. I’m terribly unfocused, but I’m not hyper, optimistic, or particularly chatty. I’ve just been enjoying my new playlist (and I took RIIICH off all but one playlist) and having a moderately pleasant day. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fine a little bit of happiness in every time my arm taps something and I get a small shock of new pain amidst the constant ache. I’m sure that’s some secret to my good mood… some messed up bipolar thing.

I’m not even tired… I’m just disinterested in work today. It’s super weird, and all of this isn’t LOST on me. I can only hope that I sleep tonight and the mood continues.


I’m gonna go see this pdoc and see what she says in a couple weeks. I don’t wanna take anymore antipsychotics, though… and I have always said I didn’t want to take Lithium… so I don’t know what they might give me. I’m willing to negotiate, but I really want a shrink to listen to me. There are side effects I can’t tolerate (like falling asleep at work), and I need to be respected when it comes to that.

So. We’ll see.


The Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

I found a new band / song that I must listen to until I hate it.

I’ve been hanging out in the blue a lot… things haven’t gotten better at work… things aren’t better in my life, either… I can’t always keep up the optimism… and that really just adds to the feeling that I’m failing, even though I’m working as hard as I can on things in life.

I started writing a book. Scifi novel. I gotta get back on it before I’m away from it too long. I think it’s gonna be a good one if I can get it all down. Writing is a new hobby for me… but I think it could be therapeutic. I got a lot of feelings… maybe I can get some out via my novel.

I put my stationary bike together! But I haven’t ridden it yet… maybe tomorrow… I’d like to do it. I’m just so tired…

I dunno… life is hard right now… but… when is it not?

A prime example of art (in this case video games) reflecting life

I accidentally made myself sad.

I finally got the Sims 4, which I’ve wanted since it came out, and I made me, fat and blue hair and everything, and I made all the dogs and I was stoked.

I thought it was pretty cool. I got us a little house and decorated it like I wanna do my real house, and I setup all this cool shit in the yard for the pets, and I was super excited to play!

I made it too real, though… My Sim has a gloomy characteristic that I thought woulf be kinda cute since I’m all bipolar, and I got her a job programming, cuz that woulda been a fun career, I think. Except she’s at work for 9 hours a day, and the pets are always wrecking stuff, and constantly need baths, and she’s perpetually exhausted cuz she’s sad, and has no time or motivation to see anyone, and the house cleaning doesn’t get done, and she can’t give all the pets enough attention, and it just got hella real life on me… cuz that’s all true, right down to neglecting my own needs in a vain attempt to get shit done that needs getting done.

I know it’s just a game, but that’s so real life… the Sims are right… it’s too much.

Speaking of… I should go to bed, cuz I’m due at work in the morning…

We replaced the billers but the bookkeeper quit, so I gotta go in to do MY work so I can train the new girl next week. I’m so tired of training new people… And just worl in general.

My stationary bike arrived, and I wanna put it together and use it…. nut I haven’t had the energy. Today I nearly broke down in a shoe store about my looks after mom talked me.out of these cute grey men’s shoes I wanted… I just wanted to curl up and die…

Found out a friend had gastric bypass. Wondered how she afforded it, like maybe there was a program I could apply to… but her parents paid for it… so… that dream got laid to rest again.

I’m so tired of being unhappy.

Things That Happen When I’m Stressed

  • Nosebleeds
  • Hallucinations
  • Delusions
  • Paranoia
  • Anxiety
  • Insomnia

I think, just this week, I’ve probably bled at least a cup from my face, and, because my brain hates me, I’ve been hallucinating seeing people in my house, which feeds my delusions that someone is living in my basement, and probably wants to kill me for some reason, and then I can’t sleep, which makes everything worse.

So… that’s fun. It’s not completely soul crushing or anything.

I’ll tell you this much, getting up and going to work is all I am capable of right now, because if I throw any effort into literally anything else, like hygiene or hobbies, I will not have enough self control to work anymore.

At least I can still read at night.

The Year I Give Up

So far, 2018 sucks a sewage pipe.

First, work sucks for new and different reason than usual.
One of my office girls walked off the job, which was bad enough because the other was set to go on maternity leave at the end of January, but then the pregnant gal had her baby a month early. She’s fine, and it’s a lovely baby (named Ainsley), but that means I have NO billers and we’re in year-end. So, my boss and I had to do bill out, and salesman’s pay, and everything else, plus our own jobs… and we’re still not done. So… that’s been bullshit.

Second, until today, I was suffering from severe food poisoning. (It’s actually norovirus, I will later find out after googling it when Mothership contracts it later this month.) I dunno where it came from, but it was incredibly painful, and gave me vertigo, and it got so bad when we were working on Sunday in a mad-dash to try and get the fucking year billed out, that I nearly passed out. I had to very quickly get on the floor of the fucking bathroom at work. Fortunately, it hadn’t seen much use since we’re closed Sundays, but I did realize that the last place I want my mother/boss to find my dead body is on the bathroom floor at work.

ALSO, I emailed my new doctor at Kaiser, who I’ve never actually gone to see, and asked her about medication for severe stomach cramps that I’ve been getting since I was a kid, because I have IBS. She said no to my dicyclomine script, even though there’s absolutely nothing recreational I can do with it, and stated that since Kaiser didn’t make the diagnosis I could come in for testing. I’m not fucking going in for testing when I already have an EXCLUSIONARY diagnosis from two other doctors I saw for YEARS. So, instead of giving me my dicyclomine, she recommended the FODMAP diet for IBS, since I’m being a stubborn bitch about it.

Here’s what you need to know about the FODMAP diet… I’m not fucking doing it.


No onion. No garlic. No tea. No ripe bananas. No black beans. No black eyed peas. No beans at all, really. No cauliflower. No celery longer than 5cm, which is not enough celery to diet on. Nothing fermented. No mixed vegetables. No mushrooms. No peas. Nothing pickled. No apples. No apricots. No black berries. No cherries. No mangos. No nectarines. No peaches. No pears. No dried fruits. No pomegranate. No watermelon. No wheat. No gluten. No almond meal, either. Or amaranth flour. Or barley flour. Or bran cereals. Nothing normal people would consider bread. No cashews. No rye. No baked goods. No cous cous. No gnocchi. No granola. No agave. No gravy. No honey. No jam. Nothing with high fructose corn syrup. No corn products at all. No pesto. No relish. no stock cubes. No sugar free sweets. No artificial sweeteners. No tahini. No tzatziki. No more than one beer a day. No coconut water. No fruit juice. No kombucha, not that I’d drink that stuff anyways. No rum. No soda. No soy. No more than one glass of wine a day. No whey protein. No dairy. No carob powder, either… whatever that is.

The first three offend me most. I can’t imagine a life sans onion, garlic, and tea.

On top of that, all the fruit and veg I eat is supposed to be organic, which I can’t afford. Also like half the fruit and veg listed are things I’ve never heard of, such as callaloo, marrow, swede, and whatever the fuck a bilberry is.

The meat preferred is fish and seafood… and I live in Colorado, so I can’t afford that, either. For some reason I can have deli meats, which seems suspect AF, and MOTHERFUCKING KANGAROO IS LISTED AS MEAT I’M ALLOWED TO EAT. Really? Kangaroo? I’m not an Aussie expert, but I’m unsure that people in the AU are eating enough Kangaroo that it needs to be listed next to turkey on this list.

I can have espresso, too. Now, I hate to break it to a doctor who spent a lot of time and money learning to be a doctor, but if I ingest espresso, my ass is going to explode within 6 minutes afterward… and it’s gonna hurt… for like… two hours. Also, I have no idea what Kvass is, but unless it tastes like my darling Earl Grey Tea, it’s not an acceptable substitute to one of my precious drinking staples.

This diet won’t work for me for the same reason I can’t be a vegan: you have to make too much of the food yourself, or you’re going to be eating a lot of watercress.

It’s not like I thought 2018 was going to be MY year… I thought maybe 2017 might be, but it wasn’t. I just didn’t think that on day three I’d having imaginary conversations with shrinks about how if I killed myself it would be good for my mom AND me, because she only sticks around for me, and we are both miserable.

It doesn’t help that other people seem to be having a better time… Lindz is engaged and her fiancé bought her a a new car. Lovely 05 Subaru with purple rims. Mel is preggers. Bird is dating Dom for the umpteenth time in her life, but is planning on law school in the summer. D1 is dating a nice rabbi and has a badass job that earns him insane amounts of money. Billie just celebrated her 1st marriage anniversary.

The short list of good things happening for me is that this evening I upgraded my internet speed while also reducing how much I pay for internet… and my mom ordered me an exercise bike (because I’m fatter than I’ve ever been in my motherfucking life).

So I fucking give up.

Fine, doc, I’ll give up foods… but not onion, garlic, or tea. I give up on internet dating, and won’t do it this year. I give up on having a social life, because I don’t have time anyway, and mostly don’t even want to leave the house. I give up on my dream to make money via my art, cuz no one wants it. I give up most of my hobbies, because they’re just offshoots of the stupid art idea. I give up trying to make this house nice. I give up on trying to keep in touch with people. I give up Coca Cola… that’s a big one.

I just give up on trying to be happy anymore.

I try and I try, and maybe it’s because I’m an unmedicated bipolar, maybe it’s because I’m a god damn fat ass, maybe it’s because I’m too close to my mom, or because I’m a pet hoarder, or because I’m just an unmotivated waste of potential… but every time I try to be positive and do things I just get shot down. I not to let things bother me, but the things pile up until I’m drowning in them. I try to do things that make me happy and just end up realizing that nothing makes me happy anymore.

I’ve tried to drag myself out of my depression by the metaphorical hair, kicking and screaming… and all that’s happened is that I’m back in the fucking blue, drowning on my own sadness. So fine, self. You win. Life is terrible, and not worth living…

And that’s why we’re starting this year back at “I will live until my mother and my pets die… and then I’m probably just going to kill myself.”

Don’t worry… even my oldest pet is in good health, and mom will keep kicking as long as she can for fear of leaving me alone with no husband or reliable friend to take care of me… and I really shouldn’t feel so much despair about that.

Holiday Party Pains In The Ass

People are so shitty… It makes you wonder why you would even bother trying to be nice.

My boss tried to put together a holiday party, seeing as the GM and the company aren’t doing anything for it this year. She bought Qdoba for the office and bought everyone a silver ornament with Swarovski crystals and a bottle of wine. She also organized a totally optional gift exchange, and was just trying to do something nice. My boss doesn’t even like Christmas. It’s a stressful time of year for she and I, and she just wanted to do something nice for the office girls to show her appreciation for them.

In particular, this one chick was just fucking miserable. She’s on a diet she swears is going to get her into a size 6, which is fine, but to avoid eating the Qdoba she intentionally scheduled an appointment so she left during the party. On top of that, my boss went out of her way to find this woman a legit diet wine to go with her diet. Not only was she completely unappreciative, she fucking gave the wine away immediately, and the ornament because she’s moving so she didn’t want a small ornament with her initial.

I get not wanting presents. I’ve gotten many I don’t want, and the POLITE thing to would have been to take them home and then throw them away.

I know it shouldn’t be a huge deal, but this woman is fucking rude all the time. She has no fucking decorum, and my boss has defended this for her before when she’s snapped at someone she shouldn’t. At some point you have to watch what fucking hand you bite, cuz the lady that signs your paychecks and defends your dumbass when you fuck up is NOT the one you should be hurting the feelings of.

Also, can I just say I’m so fucking sick of hearing about my other coworker being homeless? Which she’s not, really. She met a guy online, and never spoke to him, but decided he was her fiance, and then sent him all her rent money, got kicked out of her apartment, and she’s crashing on an air mattress with some people from her church. She’s lucky she’s got nice church people to help her out, cuz I’m sick of her dumbass. WHO FALLS FOR THAT?! Furthermore, she ran around here asking everyone for money, and then when it all went to shit she ran around here telling everyone she’s homeless. We fucking know why you’re homeless, you did it to yourself, and I don’t fucking care anymore.

Also, there’s the new chick, who quite noticeably hates working in here. I’d tell her to get out and find a new job, but the pregnant chick goes on maternity leave at the end of the month and I need the new chick to help out. When preggers gets back, whatever…

Pregnant chick is irritating, too. She went months being sad and angry, then happy and told everyone she was pregnant, and now she’s moody, but also I’m discovering all the things she doesn’t understand about her job. I will never get someone who can do a job and have no idea WHY they do something. How do you do something daily and not know WHY you do it? It’s crazy.

I guess I take all this shit personally because making my boss’ life hard means they’re making my mom’s life hard. That’s the downside of working with family… I take it personally. I could have brutally murdered the rude ass diet chick today, and strung her organs around the office as Christmas decoration. Because I know how hard my mom tries to show these girls she appreciates them, even though half of them don’t understand their job, the other half doesn’t do their shit right, and all of them are fucking drama llamas… and all my mom did was try to makeup for the short-comings of the company, since the GM has gone all Scrooge McDuck and just wants to swim in a vault of coin instead of show any appreciation for his workers that he doesn’t talk to or know anything about, myself included.

It’s all just so shitty. I’ve been trying SO HARD to get a little festive this year. I put up both my little black Christmas trees. I wrapped presents in actual wrapping paper this year. I bought cards to send out. I decorated my desk at work. Christmas isn’t a fun time of year for me, and I generally hate it, but I’m trying SO FUCKING HARD this year, and people just ruin it.

Mom and I are supposed to go to Zoo Lights tonight… trying to be festive, since we’ve both been crazy sick and haven’t wanted to do much of anything… and I dunno if we’re gonna make it there. I’m not sure we’ll even enjoy it if we do. The perk of not working with family is that when you see each other it’s a vacation from work… mom and I are just a continuation of work… a reminder of the shitty place we have to go everyday in spite of hating everyone we work with.

I just wanted to try to have a nice Christmas this year… but I don’t think it’s going to happen.