Downward Dog

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You know, life can really kick the shit out of you.

This is the first year since the death of my Grampa that I give zero fucks about the holidays.  Well, “holidays” I should say.  And I know the reason.

As stable/baseline as I’ve been, it’s that time of year to cycle downward.  Those of you who know me well know I always cycle down this time of year.  Last year was an exception because I had the losses so close together.  Talk about an almost year long depression that I never thought I would get out of.  It’s not THAT bad, but it’s enough to make me very emotional, stress out easier, and want to throat punch stupid, whiny assholes who throw tantrums over bullshit.  Zero tolerance.  And it’s getting me into trouble at work.  I’ve been late to work more the last 6 weeks than the entire almost 6 months I’ve been working.  Bouncing back and forth between the facilities is taking its tole on me.  I’m always tired no matter how much sleep I get.  Thank you, fucking depression and refried brain.  You suck donkey balls.  

My kids have been….kids.  NSLM is failing every class and gives zero fucks.  Monkey is doing very well IN class, but once she’s home….she doesn’t stop.  She’s also grounded for lying about something petty, and so is NSLM for not doing as he was told.  In their defense, we weren’t supposed to be gone 5 fucking hours.  

Things with Florida are difficult for him, adjusting to the climate, living with people that actually talk face to face, having dinner at the table and going to be around 10.  Not too mention sharing a smaller bed with someone when you’re used to a king sized bed to yourself.  It’s hard for me too.  I’ve basically been alone for two and a half years, doing my own thing, sleeping when and how I want and not having someone take me places or telling them I’m going somewhere.  I’d like to think I’m doing better, but I’m sure I’m not really.  

There’s so much that I’ve compromised on, though to others it seems I haven’t at all.  I’ve stopped trying to talk to most people because they don’t listen.  No one notices when I don’t talk or even when I do.  It hurts, really bad.  But you know how it is…you gotta keep it to yourself and just keep on every day.  I do what you’re supposed to do-go to work, come home and cook, clean, laundry, shower, dishes.  No one notices what I’m doing until they need or want something…then they get angry when I’m not right there when they want me to be.  I’m to stop, drop and roll.  It happens at work, it happens at home.  It happens when I go out in public…which I’ve now become to loathe being in groups of people because they’re all assholes.  

I’m so tired of getting yelled at and accused of things I did or didn’t do-ESPECIALLY at work.  Like why the fuck can’t people talk to me like I’m going fucking human being and ASK ME IN A CALM TONE!  This week at work was hard, but I did my best.  To some, it wasn’t enough.  To others, I didn’t do a thing.  Some people just like to bitch and be dramatic for zero reason other than to be attention seekers.  I can look attention to myself in the mirror today and say I did a damn good job with what I had, and for doing 3 people’s jobs.  I even caught a major flag Friday, went to my boss and the DON and let them know.  Went and check things out and got things moving with them to get the issue resolved and we did.  You deserve a fucking drink and an uninterrupted bath.

I’m not as stressed as I have been, but my anxiety is up enough to make me irritable and have very little patience.  People still want to treat me like a child, ride my ass about things I have zero control over, and make me feel like shit.  Like it’s all my fault my dog has fleas. After more than half a dozen baths, taking her to the groomer and constant vacuuming and homemade remedies they are still traipsing all over her backside.  She’s chewed herself until she bleeds and has licked herself bald in places.  It didn’t help I tried a different food brand.  “Simple Ingredients” my ass.  Poor May was allergic to it.  That’s when alot of the itching and chewing and loosing her fur git worse.  She lost the weight she put on, and her coat lost the beautiful softness and glossy back color.  So that makes me feel like a shitty pet parent.

I just generally feel like a shitty person, and not in the ‘I know I could have done better’ way, the the ‘It’s never enough and it’s mostly wrong’ way.  Having those feelings as a muggle is one thing.  Throw in a disorder that has already hindered your emotional state, you will always feel defeated.  And even more so when you can’t explain it because there aren’t enough of the right words to do so, or those people just don’t listen.  Ever.  So how can I  (we) really “get better” enough to function?

I think I need an Emergency Plan in writing kept on the fridge.  With a number system on the calendar to let everyone know when I need them to step up.  That’s the shitty part-that I have to have that kind of thing visibly in place because no one else really gives me the time, effort and compassion I give to them.  You guys though, my blog “friends” offer more encouragement than “real life” people.  Maybe because y’all are there and know and fucking get it and aren’t self-centered about it.  Good Lort this turned into a jumbled mess.  Y’all know, it happens with stress and cycles and meds.  And I figured out why I was so emotional.  Who would have thought too much of their antidepressant (unintentional, I might add) would make them want to shank someone and cry while eating chocolate?  Fucking bullshit.

It’s Saturday night, I’m in bed and the most exciting thing I’m looking forward to is sleeping.  I try to read Y’alls post and like them when I do.  Sorry, I just don’t have much encouragement for those whom are struggling, or witty and funny things on other posts. My words escape me alot.  I’m still here, struggling along.  It’s all any of us can do, right?

It’s Ok

Yes, I’m still around. Just had ALOT of upheaval the past few weeks, and some for the better. I’m not going to go into details, but DB damn near killed himself….and Florida moved up here. Pretty much on a whim. I’m happy. And peaceful. So are my heathens. I’m whole again. I’m so looking forward to what’s to come. It hasn’t been easy this past week. I was stabby. And cried. And threw things. (I started my period, so that didn’t help) My heathens are blooming like crazy with him here, ESPECIALLY NSLM. Monkey is crazy happy. Even May is happy. 

Now, I’m gonna go curl up under the blanket cuz it’s gonna be fucking 40° 

God I hate the cold.

Another Tribal Member Update 

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This one isn’t so disheartening.  Diane is still struggling, and her doc wants to see her back in about 3 weeks.  She started another med Vrylar (?) and the doc is hoping when she comes back she will be a little better.  She just wanted to let everyone know she’s still here,just really having a hard time and struggling, but she is reading posts just not commenting. 

So if y’all could stop by and just give her some encouraging words or just to let her know she is missed and loved, that would be amazeballs.  This tribe is so badass. Thank you thank you thank you!

Much love

Farewell, Tribal Leader

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It’s Sass’s turn to speak her piece.

I’ve had a rough week.  Nothing like sitting in your doctor’s office for your pre-surgery visit when you find out you’ve lost another friend to suicide.  You’ve got all kinds of questions banging around in your head. That’s 2 in less than 11 months.  It fucking sucks.  Though Ulla and I didn’t correspond like alot of you guys, I still consider her my friend, even if loosely based.  I have closer friendships here than out in the real world.  Anyway…

I read those sorrowful words and sat crying waiting to get registered for labs.  And I wasn’t crying so much for the fact that she made her decision, I was crying for the fact we lost our Tribal Leader.  Because, in essence, she was.  She was the one who we kind of all flocked too, like chicks to a mother hen, because she knew so much about so many things!  Once she told me she just knew a little bit about alot of things.  And that was her being modest.  Her linkdumps were informative, shocking, and funny at times.  She talked about putting the “Butch” into embroidery.  I often wonder if she pulled it off?

There were MANY inside jokes between us tribespeople.  There was orgasmic chocolate hand rolled on the legs of lesbians, syphilisporks, pegacorns, isporkacorns, riding giraffes through streets, and of course her dragon.  Her dragon wasn’t for used for transport, I found out.  He was quite testy.

Her love of art, poetry, Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit-Gandalf specifically, the beach with the sunrise and sunset and her beloved Solo.  She got me with a Mark Rothko post.  I became OBSESSED with learning about him, and he has a church in Texas-BEAUTIFUL place.  I should go there as a salute to her.   We talked about his work and how it can be seen as simplistic and complex, and you can even use it to explain bipolar with the way he uses the colors.  Let me point out-I am not an art person.  At. All.  But this work she shared, spoke VOLUMES to me.  And I’m fucking grateful she shared one of her favorite artists.  

Her heart was so big and golden even while she was deep in the dark.  She encouraged us when she had little encouragement herself.  Even with the single word Strongs she was able to help any of us know we aren’t ever alone.  Her dark, raw, real and true honesty made people sit back and really think about things from a different perspective.  She was never one to bullshit or sugarcoat, and I don’t think she expected us to do so in return.

Yes, she struggled with the darkness and yes she talked about not wanting to live in that place anymore.  It’s real and honest and part and parcel with Bipolar and depression, along with being treatment resistant and the medi-go-round and therapists and COUNTLESS asshole doctors.  It fucking sucks that she isn’t here anymore.  Am I angry?   No, because she’s finally at peace and back with her dear mother whom was her world.  Do I miss her?  Fuck yes I do.  Who wouldn’t miss her snappy comebacks and linkdumps and her honesty?  I think we all fucking miss her for a myriad of reasons, no more or less than the next person.

She showed us all a little piece of her, and together, we get the whole picture.  And today, we remember and love and honor her, and celebrate her life and her freedom.  Jill, I hope she had that cheese sandwich.

Peace and Love, Dear Ulla.  May you never have to smack anyone in the face with a barbed wired dildo. 💖

Surgery Yesterday

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*I started this yesterday when i had a little bit of alertness* 

In light of the losses we’ve all felt recently, and the outpouring of love for one of the Tribe is infuckibgcredible, I know that Blah would still want us to carry on and not mourn for who she was, but where she is now. No longer in torment or pain, though we still miss our Tribal Leader. Here’s to you, Blah, just keeping on.

Today was good and successful.  I had to be at the surgery center by 6 am, and we were actually there before it opened.  Got in, registered, and back in a room before 620.  My nurse had a hard time with my IV (God love her she blew a vein and felt terrible) and another nurse came in and had it in, no problems.  I have very small and zig-zaggy veins, so they were shocked when I said use this one, but up here, and it went in just fine.  I found out I’m NOT allergic to Morphine, that the itching is one of the common side effects of it.  Doesn’t matter.  Don’t gimme that shit.  I was rolled back to the OR, “hopped” up on the table as best I could considering I didn’t have contacts in or my glasses, got cozy and they said “Get ready to dream”.  Boy did I.   I dreamed of the beach, and the ocean and a beautiful sunset, and Florida and my kids were there running around.

Next thing I know I hear someone talking to me asking if I’m thirsty.  Fuck yes I am.  Apple juice and Graham crackers sound delicious.  I woke up much easier than the last time.  I could vaguely see the clock.  If I squinted really hard it said 930ish.  I told my mom and the nurse I dreamed about the beach, though I didn’t go into specifics.  I got to talk to my Dr, though I couldn’t see the pictures (dammit) but he said not to worry, I’ll see them next week.  Ok.  He said I made a good call having my ovary and fallopian tube removed.  They were a mess.  I looked at mom and said, “I know my body like I know my car.”  Smartass much?  Hehehe. I had/have 1 small cyst on my left ovary but everything looks good.  Woohoo!  I was back home before 11.

Yesterday and some of today I’ve slept.  My pain is more from the gas used as it works its way through my body, and less from the surgery itself.  I have 3 incisions, and this time he used regular sutures instead of the disolveable kind.  I’m pretty weak and slow to move, but I’m determined to get a shower today.  Gotta get this betadine off me, and I’m sure I’ll feel even better once I’m showered.  My appetite is still missing.  I eat because I have to, not because it sounds good.  I still blame the lithium.

Grays! Tenderloin with white gravy, green beans, mashed taters with brown gravy.  Not pictured, Peach cobbler.  Took 2.5 hours to eat.

My dog is driving me crazy.  She wants attention, no she doesnt, she wants to eat, no she doesn’t, she wants to go out, no she doesn’t.   GAH.  Monkey let me sleep with her Baymax, then she came in when she went to go to bed and slept with him.  Probably the best money ever spent was an unstuffed Baymax from Build-A-Bear.  She takes him everywhere, and if any of us are feeling bad, she shares him.  She really does have a wonderful heart.

Anyway, I’m lying in bed, having eaten 2 donuts, and all I can think about is going back to sleep.  I’m not in pain like I was, thank gawd, but I’m in that recovery pain where everything hurts and if you’re upright too long you feel like you’ll pass out, and everything you eat makes you wanna hurl.  I really just want mashed taters and French fries.  Yeah, I know it makes no sense.  I guess I just want salt.  Oh, and I’m slowly, S L O W L Y loosing weight. Down 3 pounds.  (Lithium I’m sure). 

I’m off to sleep again.  Sass, out. ✌

Surgery Yesterday

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*I started thid yesterday when i had a little bit of aletness* 

In light of the losses we’ve all felt recently, and the outpouring of love for one of the Tribe is infuckibgcredible, I know that Blah would still want us to carry on and not mourn for who she was, but where she is now. No longer in torment or pain, though we still miss our Tribal Leader. Here’s to you, Blah, just keeping on.

Today was good and successful.  I had to be at the surgery center by 6 am, and we were actually there before it opened.  Got in, registered, and back in a room before 620.  My nurse had a hard time with my IV (God love her she blew a vein and felt terrible) and another nurse came in and had it in, no problems.  I have very small and zig-zaggy veins, so they were shocked when I said use this one, but up here, and it went in just fine.  I found out I’m NOT allergic to Morphine, that the itching is one of the common side effects of it.  Doesn’t matter.  Don’t gimme that shit.  I was rolled back to the OR, “hopped” up on the table as best I could considering I didn’t have contacts in or my glasses, got cozy and they said “Get ready to dream”.  Boy did I.   I dreamed of the beach, and the ocean and a beautiful sunset, and Florida and my kids were there running around.

Next thing I know I hear someone talking to me asking if I’m thirsty.  Fuck yes I am.  Apple juice and Graham crackers sound delicious.  I woke up much easier than the last time.  I could vaguely see the clock.  If I squinted really hard it said 930ish.  I told my mom and the nurse I dreamed about the beach, though I didn’t go into specifics.  I got to talk to my Dr, though I couldn’t see the pictures (dammit) but he said not to worry, I’ll see them next week.  Ok.  He said I made a good call having my ovary and fallopian tube removed.  They were a mess.  I looked at mom and said, “I know my body like I know my car.”  Smartass much?  Hehehe. I had/have 1 small cyst on my left ovary but everything looks good.  Woohoo!

Yesterday and some of today I’ve slet.  My pain is more from the gas used as it works its way through my body, and less from the surgery itself.  I have 3 incisions, and this time he used regular sutures instead of the disolveable kind.  I’m pretty weak and slow to move, but I’m determined to get a shower today.  Gotta get this betadine off me, and I’m sure I’ll feel even better once I’m showered.  My appetite is still missing.  I eat because I have to, not because it sounds good.  I still blame the lithium.

Grays! Tenderloin with white gravy, green beans, mashed taters with brown gravy.  Not pictured, Peach cobbler.  Took 2.5 hours to eat.

My dog is driving me crazy.  She wants attention, no she doesnt, she wants to eat, no she doesn’t, she wants to go out, no she doesn’t.   GAH.  Monkey let me sleep with her Baymax, then she came in when she went to go to bed and slept with him.  Probably the best money ever spent was an unstuffed Baymax from Build-A-Bear.  She takes him everywhere, and if any of us are feeling bad, she shares him.  She really does have a wonderful heart.

Anyway, I’m lying in bed, having eaten 2 donuts, and all I can think about is going back to sleep.  I’m not in pain like I was, thank gawd, but I’m in that recovery pain where everything hurts and if you’re upright too long you feel like you’ll pass out, and everything you eat makes you wanna hurl.  I really just want mashed taters and French fries.  Yeah, I know it makes no sense.  I guess I just want salt.  Oh, and I’m slowly, S L O W L Y loosing weight. Down 3 pounds.  (Lithium I’m sure). 

I’m off to sleep again.  Sass, out. ✌

love is a beautiful bruise

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I saved a couple of email notifications on posts that really struck a chord with me from Blah’s page.  Going through it a few minutes ago, I came across this one, and I think it’s perfect for all of us that are hurting.  She always knew how she would leave this dark and weighted down planet.  She even wrote about on her blog.  While skimming her blog trying to find this post, I saw all her linkdumps, her raw honesty about Ward 13, and the struggle with her Bipolar II and the deep depression that consumed her beautiful soul.  You’ll also find her safari pictures (I’m still jealous about the hippos) and if you look REALLY CLOSE AND HARD, in one picture you can see most of her beautiful face. *Particularly for DM*

ANYWAY.  The whole point of this is that with the grief comes love, and with that love, we can “gentle the grief”.  It’ll never ever fully go away.  And why should it? ☆If you know anything about Blah, then you’ll know why this quote is right☆

“If this is love, I do not want it. Take it away, please! Why does it hurt so much?”

“Because it was real.”

Sail across the seas, to a green land.

“Duty? No… I would have you smile again, not grieve for those whose time has come. You shall live to see these days renewed. No more despair.”

Grief is the price we pay for love, quoth Queen Elizabeth II (and she definitely knows grief). You love, you lose, you grieve, you swear you’ll never love again, you love more. You’re h…

Source: love is a beautiful bruise