rubber bands and anchors

oh, hello there.

do you hear that noise, too? you must. it’s absolutely deafening.

the cacophony of clutter crashing on top of you. the sound of hopes and dreams and wishes blowing right past your head, so quickly you sometimes cannot hardly even identify them.

and then that sensation.

the feeling of muck and sludge leaking into your ears and your nostrils and between your teeth, filling your mind to the brim with utter waste.

sure, I have friends who give me Spoons to excavate the trash from my head. but it all fills back in faster than I can bail.

and yes, I’ve learned tricks from doctors and specialists as to how to apply earplugs to prevent the clatter and carnage from getting past the drums. but these methods are porous and fallible, so the shit slinks in anyhow.

I do, however, have Old Friends who pretend not that they can help or heal. and their familiar voices are eerily soothing as they whisper into my ears fond memories of long ago.

alas, present trajectory remains forward, despite the anchors attempting to keep me in place and the rubber bands struggling to snap me backwards.

the all-consuming Darkness

I’ve been on antipsychotics for a while now. lithium, to be precise. lots of it. and it works! my anxiety is lower, my compulsions quieter, my obsessions weaker, and my hypomanias basically non-existent. so yeah, we got the Manic portion of things mostly under control.

but we haven’t figured out my Depression. it’s still all-consuming, a shroud that covers everything, even the things I once loved or enjoyed.

things are not fun anymore, for example. and I don’t even want to try to have fun anymore; it’s exhausting.

I had a lot of free time this past Saturday. so what did I do?– sleep. for ~15hrs. sure, I know part of it was actually needing the sleep for physical reasons. but I know the difference between that and sleep as escapism. and most of that was the latter.

and though it may be psychosomatic and even self-fulfilling, I firmly believe that I will never get better until I GTFO of this fucking tundra.

Muted

I used to feel like I had a lot to say.  I used to think my words were valuable and beneficial to others.  that I was a grand writer with wonderful skill sets.  that my writings would change the life of at least one person (ideally in a positive way).

alas.  I don’t think those things anymore.  I’m not special anymore.  I’ve let myself become normal and boring.  I have a home with a boyfriend, a droning office job, a car that runs, etc.  sure, these are great things for me to have.  but they make for a boring a typical life.

what happened to my life of living in a barn?  or when I was a security guard?  or when I wasn’t medicated?  what about when I used to go on adventure runs all the time?  when I had two jobs and was in school for 21 hours in a single semester?  or when I was changing my hair colour to everything under the sun?  or when I worse safety pens all over my body?

what happened to that creative, exciting lass?  where did she go?  where did the Prince to all the ladies go?  where did the Greatest run away to?  the Shinigami?   the Dark Poet?  where is that crazy, hyperactive, over-achieving, all-power tomboy?

I miss the persons that used to live inside my head.  there were several of them.  and they would take charge and be Me for a while.  but now it’s just one voice I hear — my own depressing lull.

nothing matters to me anymore.  I don’t care about anything.  I don’t feel for much of anything.  my life is so Muted.  I’m Dead inside.

still Noisy, but less loud

been exactly a month since that last post.  not on purpose.  just how it works sometimes.

things are still Noisy in my Mind.

the Voices are coming back; although they are overall innocent.  they don’t give directions so much as they just talk amongst themselves.  chatty cathys are all they really are; basically harmless.

it’s the Noise that’s the problem.  and yes, that’s different.  Voices that give instructions are part of the Noise.  my own self-hatred and repetitive berating, my high pitch sound that whines in my head, the static that fuzzes over my attempts to escape — that’s all part of the Noise.  sometimes music can contribute to the Noise.

I can’t hardly handle it.  I’m supposed to take medication when it gets too bad. but how often will I admit that?  and many times, it gets really Noisy while I’m at work.  so yeah, let’s see about taking one of my klonopins or such then…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in other news, I am physically ill.  I seem to have a generic winter cold.  the snow up here has been quite beautiful, however.  and we may be going to celebrate Christmas with the same family that offered us a Thanksgiving last year.  truly kind and welcoming people they are.

Christmas cards are going to be very late this year, lol.  I’ll make a post with more details about all that later tonight or tomorrow.  I’ll be collecting addresses there too.  but in the meantime, we’re:  Brian, James, and Zero; 200 Nathan Ln N, Apt 111; Plymouth, MN 55441-6466  😉

that’s all for now.  maybe something more informative later…..

distracted from the Darkness

I have been having something scheduled for almost everyday.  back to my old “keep busy to distract the Mind” trick.  because when I’m not doing something, when I don’t have music or work or people to distract me, my thoughts get Dark again.  “I wonder what would happen if I drove into oncoming traffic.”  “I wonder how long of a fall it is off that bridge.”  “I wonder it would feel like to have my wrists slit open.”  Dark, dangerous thoughts.

thoughts I will not act on, granted.  at least, not while properly medicated.  and this is why I take my medication.  this is why I have such a cocktail that I must take — to keep from obeying the Dark thoughts.

because life is generally pointless.  I’m an American, and I’m watching my country fall apart at the hands of a bigoted piece of shit.  who, mind you, is also trying to start a war with another country.  hurricanes and earthquakes are destroying this continent.  and that’s just the fun stuff on a large scale.

everyday, people are hurting others.  sure, there’s a lot of good stuff and “pay it forwards” that happen too, and these just don’t show up in the stories as often.  I understand that; I took journalism classes.  however, I can’t handle the input of only negative shit every day.

and then there’s the Darkness in my mind, a force that somehow prevents me from experiencing joy sometimes.  a power that mutates comments into insults and gazes into glares.  a force that has me totally retracting from my partner for fear of worsening his life.

yeah, that’s the third level.  the personal level.  I can’t recall what exactly set it off, or if it was a single thing at all.  but I’ve started pushing Brian away some.  I don’t really know what to say on this matter.  I just feel like trusting him make me weak, and I need to stand on my own some.  I’ve become a limp noodle.  I need to act as if there is no net beneath me.

I have no witty or insightful closing for this post.  I’m tired and hungry, and I can’t think.  so I’ll end just like this.

happy birthday to me

it’s here. happy birthday to me, I suppose. I survived another year of living with myself, of beating myself up and despising who I am and what I haven’t accomplished.

a friend has to postpone birthday hangouts last night. instead, a different friend came over last night and gave me a few gifts. I skipped the gym this morning. I have had a few wishes her at work; I’ve received a few texts from my Louisiana folk too. then there’s an unrelated work hangout this afternoon. in the evening, I’m going to Noodles and Company with a third friend; he will probably pay, knowing him. then tonight I’ll cry myself to sleep. Saturday, Brian will take me to dinner and to see Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. at some point, I know I’ll get a gift from another friend who always sends something.

 

I wanted to cry when I woke up this morning. I really hoped that my gift from The-Powers-That-Be would be my not waking up finally. alas.

my sleeping issues have returned. I’m not sure what’s up with that. I mentioned to Brian about going back to a sleep specialist, and he agreed that it was a good idea.

my depression is worse, too; but that typically happens around my birthday.

I haven’t been to therapy in several months. she had a health issue that kept her out of work. she wants to meet Sep 2. I liked what work we were doing when we were actually doing it. but her constantly cancelling and rescheduling appointments was a real pain, and I had decided that I wouldn’t go back. but now, with the state I’m in, maybe I should. for now, at least. …man, I dunno.

I got a UTI last week. haven’t been back to my kickboxing since then. I know that’s not helping my mood any. I also ran out of my fibro and my axiety meds two weeks ago. so that’s taking a toll.

 

overall things should be great for me. but I’m crazy, and things are not good in my Mind.

so yeah. happy birthday to me.

a non-sarcastic “THANKS!” to Medica :D

y’all.  I’m stoked.  like, seriously.  I cannot thank the reps at Medica enough for actually helping me out with my insurance disaster.

so if you recall, last Tuesday, I made a post about the battle I was having in getting my insurance going.  well, a rep from Medica saw my post, and call me the following Friday.  he left a voicemail saying how unfortunate my situation was and how he could help out.

of course, I was hesitant — 1] I never have this good of luck, and/or 2] this is going to be a scam.  Spoiler alert: it wasn’t a scam!  I researched the number he left, the number he called from, and the story he told about finding my blog and why he was reaching out.

I learned the Medica is trying to really get on the ball about providing good customer service — so much so, they are reaching out to persons in social media rather than waiting for the customer to reach out to them.  and my situation is a happy result of that.

long story shirt, my rep Jerid (who has a cool spelling of his name, btw), explained a little of what happened and a lot of what the solution would be.  and I would like to point out that he never tried to blame MNSure.  I personally have no idea who was at fault (may have even been me at some point, for all I’ve been able to make sense of the situation), I just wanted the problem solved.  and Medica did that.

he coordinated with MNSure, found my application, and manually passed it through some hoops.  when we re-discussed my getting prescriptions, he even said he would email a copy of my insurance card so I can relay the information to my pharmacies.

when I woke up yesterday morning, MY INSURANCE CARD INFORMATION WAS IN MY EMAIL.  omg, y’all, I was ecstatic!!  I immediately called the pharm and got them to get my ‘scripts ready.  I will be properly medicated soon!! 😀

so a very honest thanks to Jerid and his team from Medica and to whatever officials have really started pushing the offering of good, quality customer service.  I  can’t thank y’all enough for ending what was turning into a nightmare!

 

P.S.
omg y’all, I get to pick up my ‘scripts tomorrow!  thank jeebus, because I was having to cut and/or space them out just to keep some in my system, since I had no idea when I could refill them.