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Losing My Sanity

Posted By on May 19, 2013

I spent the day trying to organize my house.  I’m no good at it and I know it.  It depresses me. My surroundings depress me.  Hubby can’t see it. Or maybe he’s been looking at it so long that for him, my depression is the norm.  I am careful who I tell about this.  Few would understand. I attend counseling at a place that doesn’t feel safe. It is not welcoming or friendly. I have little in common with the other inmates (clients-patients-consumers) that are there with me.  The staff is condescending and incredibly cruel.  I am there because there are few places that I can go that I can afford. And honestly, I don’t  know of any other place to go. This is the state of mental health care in Oklahoma.

I hate being lumped in with other people. I don’t mind recognizing the commonalities – like the symptoms of bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. But when I am categorized as being Forrest Gump because that’s the lowest denominator that someone has become accustomed to assisting, that’s when I really want to lose it.  I’ve said many, many times… “I know how to tie my shoes, I’m just going through a manic episode right now”. They don’t realize that we are not all molded the same. Or at least they could treat  us like we’re not.

This is why I love love love being alone. Be beware! If you stay alone too much then there’s something wrong with you too. Nevermind the insanity that is all around you.  You must get out and engage.  The more I am around other people, the more I enjoy being in my own company. My inner voices and me have the greatest conversations- okay a few of the friends in my head need to be talked off the ledge, but sometimes, the ledge is a good place to be, Somebody out there knows exactly what I’m saying.

I have felt for the longest time that I don’t fit in well. I do me. Why can’t others be content with that?  Why must I take meds that make me more like them when  being like them makes me want to do the things that they give me meds for?

 

I think, therefore I ramble.   Off to do something socially accepted as productive.

Hard-Knock Life

Posted By on May 3, 2013

If you listened to my children’s account of growing up, they were a tad better than living in the tower of London during King Henry’s reign. They had nothing.  They did nothing. They lived in utter squalor and debauchery.

Fortunately, people who know me, know us are aware of how untruthful that is. We didn’t have a palace, but we certainly weren’t the dregs of a third world existence. I wasn’t going to put this out there, but I think I need to get some things off my chest before I explode.

You know what goes around, comes around. Pootie, KARMA is a bitch. The things you have said to me lately, the way you have treated me will come back to you. Beware of how you treat me. I am one of GOD’s chosen.

I will never understand why some people would choose to believe a lie rather than face the truth. I understand wanting to see your father. But why can’t you understand that he made a decision not to pay child support or to come visit you or contact you?  He is a pathetic little man and you have bought his story because you want a reason to be angry at me.

Build your sandcastle life, my love.  Live with whatever brings you peace. I only hope that you can handle the aftermath when it starts to crumble around you.

When Insanity Reigns

Posted By on May 2, 2013

I cannot believe some of the horrible news that’s permeating the airwaves and newspapers. Children being accused of rape. Other children marrying women old enough to be their great grand mother.  It’s appalling.

What really sets my dreds on edge are all these sick people that want to use their mental illness as an excuse to commit some of the worse crimes imaginable. You know, I read in the paper the other day that a man wanted to have his death sentence commuted because he didn’t intend to kill the 5 month old baby girl he was raping.  How sick is that?  Even sicker is there is a judge that is entertaining his plea.   Our entire world has gone mad.  Nothing makes sense anymore.

Today I read that 23 people were shot in Chicago. No one seems outraged at that number. Realize people that there are places in the world, here in the US were there aren’t 23 people shot in decades. DECADES!! What’s wrong with us?

This is why I don’t like leaving my house. It’s safer there. Or at least there’s more opportunity for me to read the madness that has become so pervacive.

It’s raining outside. A storm is coming. The madness has arrived. Are you ready?

BiPolar Politics

Posted By on April 13, 2013

pI’ve been attending groups and workshops and doing individual therapy at a mental health center in my city for almost two years straight. Have I gotten any better? On some levels I have, on others, I can’t speak to that. I still believe that there are people there that mean me absolutely no good. They know who they are and more than likely will be printing out this entry to interrogate me just like they have done in the past. Did I mention that these two cows printed out SIXTEEN PAGES of my blog and highlighted portions to quiz me about? Yeah, well, welcome to 21supst/sup century mental health treatment. No wonder so many are still walking around there doing the Thorazine shuffle, just biding time until the van takes us home only to do it again the next day.
/ppThen the cows in questions –NR,SR- wrote me a letter detailing all of my offenses since I’d been there. The only problem was that it wasn’t true. It was a rule that I learned in college. The person with the teacher’s manual got to set the rules of the game. And they do treat this as a game. Everyday the mentally ill are talked to like children, lied on, lied to, called liars and there is nothing that can be done. We don’t hold the power. When we speak up, we are silenced by being banned from the facility on trumped up accusations. We have letters put in our files without the opportunity to dispute them. There is an alleged grievance process, but like all things that deal with this facility, it is inert when it comes to dealing with people who lie better than the mentally ill. It’s all a joke.
/ppDespite all their madness and having taken my own recovery in my hands (I am the captain of my ship), I have managed to make some friends (and a few enemies) among the other clients and staff. And oh yes, the staff has been warned not to let us discuss anything negative about the facility and not to be too friendly with the inmates—er… clients, consumers. Mostly that means me. Stay away from me if you want to keep your job and not get reprimanded. Stay away from me if you want a decent evaluation after your probationary period. Stay away from me if you want to live.span style=”font-size:䉠֖媀惍䉠֖ၕ험,幨惗䉠֖폔,þpt; text-decoration:line-through”strong
/strong/span/ppI decided that I would do something about it, that I would try to play by their ever changing rules. I asked one of the CMs if she thought I’d make a good volunteer. Her reply was that she wouldn’t answer that because it was too political. Too political? I guess all that infighting and bigotry wouldn’t work well for someone who makes it know that she won’t be a butt-kisser just to be helpful. Because honestly, it seems that sticking your nose in the right ass is the only way to become a volunteer around there. The majority that are allowed to volunteer have made ass0kissing an art. My mama didn’t raise me to do that. I learned early that a title doesn’t make the man (or woman). I’m not after titles anyway. I just want to help out. Is that such a hard thing to accept?
/ppSo I threw my name in the had to be considered for a volunteer position. We’ll see what comes of it.
/ppFor now though it’s back to what helps keep me sane – yoga.
/ppOh look! A butterfly!!/p

Mea Culpa

Posted By on April 13, 2013

p I so cannot believe the level of my gullibility. Apparently the Pope Emeritus isn’t gay. I still believe that Ann Coulter (who has had too much bandwith devoted to her from my blog) is a racist, backwoods idiot who should be put on a deserted island and made to fight Pygmies for her existence.
/ppThe thing about the rumours that abound the internet and eventually reach my each is that it sounds truthful enough just to be plausible. So now I know that the span style=”text-decoration:underline”Daily Currant/span is a satirical site. But Bill Maher, Jon Stewart, and Stephen Colbert are all satirist as well and they really do take the news and make it funny. Why couldn’t the span style=”text-decoration:underline”Daily Currant/span do that as well?
/ppMy bad. I jumped the gun, didn’t check my facts, wanted it to be true so much that I became a party to the rumour mill that splashed it out there. In my defense (if I were to try to muster one), at least it didn’t come from the National Enquirer or the Globe or whatever those tabloids that pay a gazillion dollars for Michael Jackson autopsy photos.+
/ppI’ve decided to write more, to let my mind flow so I anticipate my posts will be more loopy depending on the day and time I write them. And I might even do a little fact checking. Who knows? I could fall backwards into journalism again…. Nah! Too many rules!/p

Dazed and Confused

Posted By on April 5, 2013

When Mugato yelled, “I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!”, I really couldn’t relate. Perhaps it was because I really was taking crazy pills or just that I wasn’t as into Zoolander and my daughter was.  In any event,  I now understand.  Maybe.  This feeling is more like being in a coma and waking up in a different time continuum all together.

I started reading my news alerts from last month. I discovered that Pope Benedict resigned not for health reasons but because he is gay.  Now there is nothing wrong with being gay, but The POPE in the closet? That one had my head spinning.  I think he really should have remained in office where he could have done more to advance their cause and bring others out of the oppression of Catholic dogma, but since I’m not personally involved, I guess it’s his call.

I was still wrapping my head around that when I read that Ann Coulter (not known for her logic or truthfulness or common sense)  refused to board a plane that had a female, black pilot because she assumed that the pilot was a product of  Affirmative Action.  I have a few choice words for Ms. Coulter, but in her case, I know that they would fall on deaf ears.  I know several conservative Republicans and she leads the way in giving them a worse name than they already have.

So I decided that all that was old news and fast-forwarded to something more current – yesterday.  The Egyptian government has lost it’s damn mind!  An arrest warrant has been issued for  Jon Stewart for among other things “contributing to the delinquency of an Egyptian”. It seems they don’t like his faux news program (that is really more informative than most network news).  The president of Egypt doesn’t like being criticized and doesn’t want to have Islam or Egypt criticized. They think that he is making their country look bad. No, I hate to tell you, but Egypt is making itself look bad  and they are tacking Islam on the end of it to boot.   This is the sort of thing that happens when you put idiots in positions of power.    Extremism in any form is just oppression and the Islam that I practice states that we should fight oppression.  Isn’t that how the current president got in office?

I could go into a long diatribe on each of these topics separately and I’m sure I will at some point. Right now I just want to find that damn time machine and go back to a reality where the world makes a little more sense. Who has the keys to the Tardis?

The Old “In-Out”

Posted By on March 6, 2013

It’s been two days since my colonoscopy, two days since my behind was violated by a man claiming to be a doctor, whose name I barely remember. I feel like I’ve been roofied and my butt itches.

When my parents turned 50, I don’t recall either of them discussing having to be violated.  What happened to old people before all this technology stepped in and poked around where no man has gone before?

It was a full day of bedrest (the next day) before I felt that I could move around and maintain some sort of cognitive thought processes. The meds I was given had a delayed onset due to my mania so now I feel like I’m the calmest, most laid back person on the planet. I’m actually smiling at stupid people!

I suppose I’ve held you in suspense long enough.  There were two polyps removed. I am well. Apparently, I came through like a trooper.  It will be a few weeks before the results of a biopsy are known. I don’t know what the results will be, but I don’t care.

At least for now I’m done and guess what? I got pictures of the whole thing!

Up Yours

Posted By on March 3, 2013

Until last month, I had no idea that the phrase “bad prep” would not apply to a degenerate plebe at a private school somewhere, but instead to the goings on and inner working of an intestinal tract.   In this case, it was the phrase stated by my doctor as he informed me that I would have to begin again with my colonoscopy.  No one told me of all the wonderful picks and probes that 50 year olds are given.  Instead my 50-plus friends chose to let me learn of these wonderous events as they unfolded.

So I was one of those people who had taken the required medicinal remedies, emptied my intestines and colon of what I thought was all the solid matter and errant waste build up and was ready for my procedure to be completed with relative ease.  Not so. Instead I was rescheduled and tomorrow we do this again.

Even now I type, jaunt to the bathroom, come back, hop in there yet again, take the wireless keyboard and sit on my throne awhile… you get the idea. It goes without saying that I am not pleased.  My BFF chided, “Well if you weren’t so full of crap, we wouldn’t have to do this again”. Then she giggled and got on her cell phone to tell her joke to everyone we know. Someone else commented that perhaps my poop quota was why my eyes turned from brown to green.

Who knew there were so many stool softeners, bathroom aids and such available! People don’t just eat a lot of fiberous foods anymore?

 

So now I prepare for the camera. My internal hinnie will be on television. I will be drugged and pictures will be taken of the inner workings. I was told there will be no pain.  They say the medication I will receive will make me forget what happens. Thank God for small miracles.

I cannot resist. I will be assimilated into Club Fifty.  I feel like I’m being hazed for a sorority initiation.

Dog Whisperer

Posted By on February 14, 2013

I need someone who can give therapy to my dogs.  Where are the doggie shrinks? My dogs, who I refer to as my babies have picked up the habit of chewing the crotch out of my underwear.  No matter where I put it once I take it off, they find it and make a feast.  It appears to be the highlight of their day.

My panties have become Scooby snacks for the little monsters.  They don’t know how much undies cost. Or at least they don’t care. Maybe they do know.  The dog whisperer seems to suggest that it’s the pheremones in the panties that attract them and they become a delicacy of sorts. Well their delicacy is costing me alot of money.  I think the Walmart people think that I buy them.  wear them once then toss them (which actually isn’t too far from the truth).

I have put my undies in the bottom of the hamper only to come home to find the hamper turned on its side and the clothes strewn about until the prize is revealed. Never hubby’s underwear, never the grandbaby’s dirty diaper.  It’s always my stuff.

Any answers?

Valentine’s Day (HA!)

Posted By on February 14, 2013

Does anyone feel the irony of taking one day a year to profess love and affection for your paramour that in all reality should have been shown all year on a constant basis? What makes roses and chocolate and crotchless panties so special today that they usurp all the bad and the ugly that has past or has yet to come?

I suppose you can tell that I’m not a huge fan of these Hallmark events.  Still they have their place in boosting the economy.  I”m just not loathe to participate.  Somewhere up there with Secretary’s Day and Dog Lover’s Day and International Friendship Day, I’m all Hallmarked out.

My husband and I decided long ago that we don’t need to keep up with the Jones’ to see who can buy the most flowers or the sexiest lingerie today.  Our love is a deep a smoldering one. The embers are low and steady and keep the fires lit.  We show affection for each other to each other, not for the masses to judge.  This isn’t the only day we hold hands in public.

People save your money. Show appreciation when it needs it. Don’t be a slave to a date on a calendar.  You’ll feel much better in the end.

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