LASHING OUT AT YOU

As much as I love my father I can recognize his faults. He is one the most stubborn people I’ve ever me. He pushes himself beyond any human limits leaving his family to deal with the consequences. This mostly means me. Yes, I’m close to my Dad, that doesn’t mean I should have to be the only one worrying about him and witnessing him at his worst.

Finding him unconscious on the front lawn with his car parked in the middle of the street scared me. What scared me the most was that his pants and underwear were down. My father never even walked around the house without a shirt on, he was hallucinating because his fever was so high. Dialysis knew he had a high fever and a Urinary Tract Infection. They also knew he wasn’t steady on his feet. Yet they allowed him to drive home anyway. I admit I may have called them and said some things that were not nice I really don’t remember some of that day but I take responsibility if I did.

I had to call 911 because he wouldn’t wake up. The second time I had to call 911 was because he left the Hospital against the Doctor’s advice. He was bleeding internally but they didn’t where. He was home 24 hours when I heard a boom come from the bathroom. I had to break the bathroom door but still couldn’t open it all the way because my Dad was blocking it. When I saw the amount of blood on the floor, walls, shower and even the window I found the strength to push him to the side. I got him up and he told me to get him to the toilet. He didn’t make it. He collapsed on to the toilet. It looked look his liver had exploded out of him along with some other organs. I was terrified.

I was screaming and calling 911 at the same time. The neighbor heard me and ran over. When she took a look in the bathroom she had to run outside. It was nothing but blood and tissue. When the medics arrived they said “I’m surprised he’s still alive. Jesus, what a mess.” Then my favorite neighborhood Police Officer decided to see what was going on. He asked the EMTs and they said I was upset and my Dad was hemorrhaging internally. His response? A laugh and “The daughter’s always upset she’s crazy don’t give her attention it only makes it worse”. I actually went to High School with one of the EMTs and he knew I was diagnosed as Bipolar. He didn’t like the comments and tried to tell the Officer that it isn’t a joke. I stopped him because it wasn’t worth it the man wasn’t going to change his opinion of me.

My sister shows up after the mess is cleaned and stress is over.

I need a new car, the alternator is shot in mine, it needs a windshield, brakes, and probably tires. It’s a 1999 RAV 4 with 84,000 miles but I should do it now while I can because I don’t know what will happen in the future. Of course my Dad insists on putting the alternator in himself and trying to do other work on it. He comes in every 15 minutes looking like he’s going to die. I kept telling him not to do it but he refused to listen.

Finally I had enough. When this happens it’s never good. I told him if I have to find him one more time I’ll make Leaving Las Vegas look like a Disney film. He wasn’t happy with that and said “Don’t you ever threaten me Goddamnit!”. That’s when I started to tremor, cry and stutter.

He can do what he wants. When I get a new car I just have to make sure it’s big enough to sleep in. I did spend some time with my nephews and sister. The older one spotted me first. Oh how his face lit up! He was so excited he yelled “MOM! MOM! Auntie Day is here! She is! She is!” and he threw himself at me so hard he almost broke his gift. I bought the boys a beautiful handmade and hand painted rain stick. They love stuff like that and it can be a decoration too so my sister would like it. She received Egyptian Goddess incense cones and make up samples. Her husband’s gift was that I showed up while he wasn’t there. lol

The boys looked so grown up I had to keep pinching the skin under my arm so I wouldn’t cry. I’d be banned again if I cried. I love them for their innocence and because they don’t know yet how the rest of the world looks at me. All they see is Auntie Day, the one who loves them and brings them cool gifts, who plays with them, laughs with them, and would do anything to protect them. I mentioned how my Dad is acting and how I’m worried about having a place to live if anything happens to him suddenly. She still made no offer. It’s a three bedroom house with a furnished basement that’s used as a man cave with a bed. I guess there wouldn’t be enough room for a 5’5″ 138 pound woman for a week.

Which makes me think I have gotten that bad.

 

Advertisements

BIPOLAR IS HUMILIATING

The last two years my moods change rapidly. I’m at the point where I don’t know if it’s me or my illness talking and making decisions. I know most people will say that isn’t possible. I’m so confused that I really don’t know anymore.

In the morning I’ll be agitated and talk nonstop. I want to do a million things but lack the physical energy to do them. But my mind continues to race with thoughts and ideas.

In the afternoon I become quiet, down, sad, and usually cry. I have to hide this part because my Dad will get angry if he sees that I’ve been crying. He doesn’t like it when I talk a lot either so he will get up and go outside leaving me sitting there in the middle of a sentence. I find this happening with many people.

I do try to control all of this. The more I try to control it the more stressed I feel and that leads me to stuttering.

At night I sometimes go back to rapid speech and thinking. I also think I have great ideas like calling in to a radio show with Dr. Drew. It wasn’t really a great idea. I got one question out and he ran with it never allowing me to say what I needed to say. Then next thing I knew the call was dropped. I was embarrassed and felt like an idiot. It would’ve been worse if I actually said what I planned on saying. I often think I’m smarter than I am. I also think I’m witty when actually I sound like a bitch.

My Doctor’s appointment didn’t go so well. Everyone was very nice but my health is definitely getting worse. My blood pressure has never been as low as 94/40 and they had to due my heart rate 3 times to make sure it was correct. I’m also shorter than I was a few months ago. I don’t know how a person goes from 5’7″ at 37 years old to 5′ 5″ at 44 years old. A woman my age shouldn’t have Osteoporosis this bad and Degenerative Disc Disease.

My Dad is upset because my car finally died two days ago. He wants to know why I haven’t cleaned it out and bought a new one yet. BECAUSE IT WAS ONLY TWO DAYS AGO! I’m not like him, I can’t push myself to the point of collapsing because it’s what a “man does”. It’s also going to kill him.

I lift my head too fast and I black out. I go up a flight of stairs and I’m exhausted like I swam the entire Ocean and see red dots. My toes are a dark red purple and my feet are swollen again. I’m also having trouble breathing and weird headaches that are actually in my temples. This worries me a little because my Dad was diagnosed with Temporal Arteritis which is bad and I’m having similar symptoms. It can be genetic. Like everything else I have.

So I embarrass myself, my family, and I’m not a productive member of society. People are not interested in explanations or excuses so I’ve stopped. All I keep saying is “I’m sorry” I say it so much that I apologized to an empty grocery cart the other day. I don’t know who I am, who I ever was or who I want to be.

EXOTIC PETS (CHANGING IT UP A LITTLE)

I enjoy watching Dr. K’s Exotic Animal ER but what I don’t enjoy is when a person who has no experience with a specific species buys one off the internet and it ends up in Dr. K’s ER in a life or death situation.

Exotics do not have the Immune System to fight off infections they can get from Humans. There are also diseases that can be passed from the animal to humans that can be life threatening.

I’m going to talk about a pet that I actually have a Moluccan Cockatoo. It also is sometimes called a Salmon Crested Cockatoo.

MOLUCCAN COCKATOO

The Moluccan is from eastern Indonesia and considered Vulnerable on the Endangered Species List due to the over exportation from Indonesia for the pet trade, the Timber business taking away their habitat, and being seen as a threat to coconut palms by locals. It’s illegal for Moluccans to be used in the pet trade today but there are loopholes in this law.

Moluccan Cockatoos are mentally and emotionally complicated parrots and very few people are able to meet their demands. They are also one of the largest parrots and eat berries, nuts, seeds, coconuts, and insects. They need plenty of room, a lot of attention, and mental stimulation.

Lack of attention, the wrong food, the wrong cage or cage placement can upset them. The Moluccan suffers the most from forced isolation. They are birds that need to be a happily mated pair. Males and females are rarely apart and were never meant to live a solitary existence.

Baby Moluccans often never learn how to relate to other birds because breeders take the eggs immediately from the mother and put them in an incubator. My father always let the mother sit on her eggs and raise her babies. His Moluccans were always mated pairs except for the one we have now, her mate passed away several years ago and my Dad is no longer part of the Exotic world. When he was it was because he was one of the few people successful at breeding endangered birds and helping endangered programs at Zoos and Wildlife Centers.

When a Moluccan isn’t given enough attention, their mate dies, their diet is wrong, really any small thing can set off feather plucking beginning on the chest. Most birds have a hard time breaking this habit and it turns to self mutilation. This is sad and painful to watch I’ve seen it before. If the self mutilation continues it’s best to euthanize the bird. They will self mutilate to the bone and the area will be the circumference of a baseball. Most will not let you tend to the wound and a bite from a Moluccan is serious. They can bite to the bone. Honey in it’s pure form is used the most to cover the wound and has had some success. Unfortunately it’s limited and the bird goes back to old habits.

People need to think hard when looking into owning an Exotic Bird many have long lifespans and do not adapt well to captivity. If you could fly wouldn’t you actually fly all the time? So why deny the natural born instinct of an animal so you can look at it?401px-Cacatua_moluccensis_-Kuala_Lumpur_Bird_Park_-aviary-8a

FLAGGED, DR. DREW, DARK MATTER RADIO, DOCTORS

I’ve noticed lately when I view the source for my Blog that items have been flagged. I’m not sure why this is but it concerns me. Should I be flagged for honesty or what I perceive is true? Should I lie about my life as a Bipolar person and living with Conversion Disorder? Should I lie about the mistakes Doctors have made or how I’ve been treated by the health system?

I don’t intend to start lying or sugar coating anything. This is the one place I don’t have to.

I’ve come across several Doctors who for some reason or another did not like a medication I was on and refused to give it to me while I was staying at their Hospital. The medications were not the kind you can just stop without serious side effects, one of them being seizures. They did anyway.

Dr. Drew believes if you are and addict/alcoholic you should not be given any medication similar to Klonopin or Adderall. He will be discussing such matters on Dark Matter Radio tomorrow night. Dr. Drew is an addiction specialist with a track record that isn’t the greatest. You only have to watch Celebrity Rehab to see that for yourself.

The biggest problem I have is Dr. Drew blaming Chris Cornell’s suicide on Ativan. He said he never should’ve been given the medication at all. What I want to ask Dr. Drew is has he ever been diagnosed with a mental illness? If not he has no idea what he’s talking about.

Cornell had talked about depression with periods of being over excited and loving everything and then having that feeling disappear in an instant starting when he was 12 years old. By the way men usually show symptoms of Bipolar Disorder at this age. He also began drinking around the age of 12 to numb or self medicate.

Once again every Doctor who sees a person with an addiction doesn’t dig further to see what’s behind the addiction so the underlying illness is never really treated.

In Chris Cornell’s case he may have been taking medications for mental illness, he had severe anxiety but like most people who take antidepressants or antipsychotics doctors will also prescribe something so you are not a zombie who drools all day. Most of these medications make you feel like you’re floating under water in slow motion. It isn’t fun. Without Adderall I wouldn’t be able to make it down the stairs or have a conversation. Without Klonopin my ulcers would be back and I would be back to dry heaving daily. Neither is any way to live.

No one has the right to say what medications are the right ones for you. Only you and your Doctor can decide that. If you are happy with them and can function on any kind of a “normal” level I say “Good luck! I wish I was you”. And “Screw ’em” to the people who disagree.

WHAT IT IS

Someone recently followed my Blog for a day. I normally wouldn’t think anything of it but the person created their account on that day and it was also deleted after they had read my posts. The blog name seemed familiar to me and the posts they read were about my past.

I am an open book. I don’t lie because I’m not good at it unless I’m drunk or have a buzz and want something. I have 9 years of sobriety with one night where I relapsed in those 9 years. And no I do not start counting days over again I think that practice shames the person and leaves them feeling like “Well I screwed up, everyone hates me so I might as well keep drinking”. I don’t buy into that way of thinking and that is why I have been able to stay sober as long as I have.

Other times when I tried different methods I would make it to 6 months or a year and relapse. The guilt would be overwhelming and the people around me made sure I was reminded of what I did. I felt even worse about myself so I quit and went back to something I could depend on, alcohol. Then I was diagnosed Bipolar and became aware of why I drink and eventually things got easier. Alcohol wise anyways.

Now I sit around and watch YouTube videos from my favorite bands because there is no good music right now. For me a song should be like a book. A beginning, a middle, and an end. I want to feel emotions not hear about how great your ass is or how many girls you take home from the club and how much money you make. That isn’t music. Music is about struggling, pain, love, loneliness, losing everything, fighting for something, it has a purpose.

If anyone from my past has a problem with what I write you know where you can find me. But unlike last time I will be the one with chair and you will leave broken with nightmares. This I can promise.

I will no longer sit by while anyone humiliates, degrades or physically harms me. I will no longer be silent even if I have to stutter to get my point across.

FINDING IT HARD TO CARE

With each passing day I find it harder to care what happens to me. I’m only worried about my Dad and that only lasts until he walks away from me or spends more time with his birds rather than have a conversation with me. I’m not paranoid. You can think it if you want but he did the same to my mom when he didn’t want to deal with anything.

My appointment with the Gastroenterologist is tomorrow, I’m still going alone. I get so worked up going to the Doctor. When it’s a new one I get my hopes up that they will have some answers or a magic cure. I have a tendency to start talking a lot and fast right away. Because I’ve researched what I’ve been diagnosed with I sound like a pain in the ass patient. It never goes well. The last time I tried waiting for the Doctor to speak first. She said “So what do you think I can do for you?” I was looking for a new General Practitioner so I was confused. I wanted to say “Umm, your job?”. What kind of question is that? I wasn’t happy when I left.

I’ve had way too many bad experiences with Doctors, not only with myself but watching what they did to my mom. I’ve been given the wrong diagnosis more times than I can count, had 2 Doctors tell me it was ok to have a “few drinks” for my stuttering, have one smile like a mad scientist while asking to videotape me, another lost pictures of my breasts when he had them developed at a local photo place (not kidding), been made fun of, talked down to and humiliated. Excuse me if I get flustered when I meet you.

I’m amazed at the things Doctors didn’t think was worth mentioning to me. I’ve come up positive for Monoclonal Gammopathy the last several years. People who have this almost always progress to Multiple Myeloma and no one thought it was important. The glands or lymph nodes in my neck are swollen and every other day I have a fever. My feet have been swelling again and these headaches are like nothing I’ve ever had before.

I can’t seem to control any of my emotions. I feel so alone it physically hurts. I want to scream “WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME LIKE I LOVE YOU!” but it wouldn’t matter would it?

Sometimes I think if I was dying would they love me more? Then I think of my mom. My Dad was by her side the entire time and when I wasn’t working I was there too. But there were so many other people that should’ve been there and weren’t. I don’t even know who to put for an emergency contact.

I’m sad and tired. Something has to change.

CRUSHES, CRUSHED, DATING MUSICIANS

I’ve always been drawn to music and tried to stay away from dating musicians or guys in bands. In High School my best friend Wendy and I had crushes on another pair of best friends. When I was in High School it was different. The guys looked like grown men. Wendy’s crush was over 6 feet tall with black silky hair half way down his back and the bluest eyes. My crush was an exact copy of Slash from Guns n’ Roses. I’m not kidding, they had the same hair, face, body, and both were in bands. My crush was in a band with the worst name ever “Facial Defecation”. Yup. They were popular too. Mostly because women loved the Slash look a like.

One day Wendy calls me and says “Hurry up and get ready. You’ll never believe who I’m with!”. She had somehow met our crushes and they were all coming to pick me up so we could go to a party. It was the first time I got drunk and fooled around with a Slash look a like. Sadly he passed away a few years ago from Pancreatic Cancer. His alcoholism didn’t help. His best friend paid for the funeral. He didn’t know his family would need that money a year later when he died from lung cancer. He never smoked but was always in bars promoting bands and going to shows.

So I never liked groupies and when drunk I didn’t hide the fact. Part of it was my own insecurity and self esteem issues and part of it was most of them took advantage not caring that these were actual people. I would watch as they would steal expensive alcohol or drugs and it pissed me off. Some of these people were friends of mine and I was there to support them. But I also knew how things worked. The Velvet Rope system is cruel. Many times I only got into places because I was with Wendy. Sometimes someone recognized a kindred spirit in me.

For the most part I tried to stay at a safe distance. Then I would drink and a guy with long black silky hair would show up who played guitar and tattooed. So that night I ended up with 3 tattoos and a guitarist. The next morning I didn’t remember getting 3 tattoos but I remembered the guy. That’s always good when you remember the guy. Of course he was another alcoholic who also liked coke, crack, heroin and a lot of other women.

I had a type when I drank. If they had dark hair and looked dangerous in a good way that’s who I went for. I hardly ever looked at blonds. It’s weird. The dark haired guys always got me in trouble or I got myself in trouble. And they all had tattoos, some had meanings I should’ve known about but I was still young. The teardrop under the eye can have many meanings BUT none of them mean the guy is sensitive and caring just so you know. I think about him from time to time but last I heard he was on the run from doing serious time for putting his girlfriend in the hospital. Not really surprised.

I do miss the music from that time and the guys with long hair. In my own petty way I want to go back in time but look like I do now and tell a few people off or if they hit on me insult them or slap them, either would be good. It was a strange time. Some people were cruel to me because I was a 250 pound bleach blond drunk. Some people really liked me. Now no one likes me or dislikes me. I’m not sure which is worse.