I’m feeling agitated today. Just some little things. I don’t know if many of you know this about me but I have a child like voice.
When I could eat fast food and would go through the drive thru I had several people working the window say that I could “work in cartoons”. Some people like my voice and some people don’t.
It has gotten a little deeper with age possibly because I’ve been intubated several times but I’m still a quiet person. It’s hard for me to yell. It has to do with muscles in my diaphragm being too weak. Sometimes a telemarketer would call the house, I would answer and they would ask me if my mommy or daddy were home! I would then tell them “No” they would ask who was home with me. I would say “No one”, at this point I could hear panic on their end so I would tell them how old I was. I thought it was funny, they didn’t.
Some people get the impression that you are weak or innocent in nature when you have a small voice. I hate being seen as weak. My voice isn’t going to get any deeper.
The appointment with The Urologist the other day was an example of where I felt someone was being condescending. Over complimenting my Burgundy Leather Moto Jacket and Boots until it was awkward was irritating to me. It was like he was saying “good for you” or “see you can do it all by yourself”. I wanted to tell him I was doing shots on the tour buses of rock stars when he was in diapers and not to talk down to me. Also I’m incredibly fashionable. Just not when I’m in the Emergency Room for KIDNEY FAILURE!!!
He isn’t the only one. People that I have met in the last few years learn of something in my past and are shocked. SORRY!! I had a life that included alcohol addiction, concerts, dive bars, sometimes meeting known people, and a lot of the time causing trouble. I do not do it now.
No, now I cringe at loud noises (mostly loud men), startle easily, forget where I am, only leave the house about 2 times a week, never meet new people in person, cry often for no reason, get bursts of weird euphoria then crash, want to do things but don’t because I’m tired from doing nothing. This is my hair and outfit for the Urologist. That’s a feather sticking out, my hair stylist colored my hair to match the feather.
Since getting my puppy my anxiety has been through the roof. I don’t know what the problem is. I feel like something bad is going to happen. When he whines I feel my heart break. I know you’re supposed to let them whine because giving in only reinforces the behavior. I have a hard time doing this. Chihuahuas are kind of different. They are prone to separation anxiety. It can actually be harmful to them to be crate trained. This depends on who you believe. They are very intuitive so I believe it can be harmful. I’m so frazzled right now I don’t know what I’m doing.
I also hate that I’ve always considered myself good with animals. I hate that I feel like I’m failing this poor puppy. Even though he’s getting food, water, shelter and love. I don’t know why I still feel this way. I’m in a bad place right now. I love him and he loves me. So why do I feel so overwhelmed?
Maybe it’s the fact that my father yells at every little thing. I jump every time the dog is out of my sight just in case he has an accident. For Christ’s sake my dad’s parrots make a bigger mess! I don’t like being reprimanded. I can’t follow the dog 24 hours a day. I’m trying the best I can.
I’m also worried about my medical bills. I applied for help and they only agreed to help with 3 days when it was supposed to be 6 months. With more surgeries coming up what am I supposed to do? I’m on disability and they say I make too much. How is that possible? If I lived on my own I wouldn’t be able to afford shelter. The cut off is in the area of $860 a month. You can’t get more than that to qualify. You can’t live on $860 a month. I have to have the surgeries there is no other choice. So add that to my anxiety list.
I have to have a conversation with my Psychiatrist on 11/11/15 about how he does my assessment. He keeps copying and pasting from one visit to the next. When I go up for Review this looks bad. He just puts in a code for Bipolar I or Bipolar II. It should have Bipolar I, Conversion Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Social Phobia, and PTSD. I think there’s more but I forget. He never puts any real notes about my condition or how I’m doing. Knowing him this will not go well.
I also don’t want to have the surgeries.
I hate complaining but no one listens anyways.
Pretty soon I’ll have lock jaw from clenching my teeth constantly. I do it all day and don’t even know it. I have TMJ and was already told a few years ago how bad it was.
Everything just feels off and sucks right now.
If I could I would find all of the truly wonderful, compassionate people that take the time to either read my blog, comment, respond to comments, and never ever make me feel like an outsider and personally look them in the eye and thank them.
Some of you understand what the loneliness and pain is like. I have been experiencing it more than usual lately and probably have gone on about things a little too much. I know this is true because my father was gone most of the day and when he came home he walked out on 2 conversations with me. I pretended he didn’t and answered his side of the conversation for him. Then he got mad because I was acting “crazy”. I told him it was the only way I could talk these days because no one wants to talk to me. He left again.
I’ve tried to reach my sister for several days now. I need to color my hair and she has my bowls and brushes at her house from the last time I did hers. She finally texts me today to ask if I want to have a “color” party this week because she has to do her hair too. What this really means is me coloring her hair. The last time I did her hair it was really a “color correction” and it would have cost her about $200 or more at a salon. I also cut it. I paid for all the supplies. She did text me a few days later to say thanks. But when I really need her I get nothing. I’m trying to come to terms with all of this but it’s hard.
My father still can’t comprehend that my hospital stay was serious. I tried to explain it to him by showing him the bill where it said “life saving measures were taken”. You think he would have got it when I told him they asked me if I wanted to see a priest and if I wanted to sign a “Do Not Resuscitate” form. Instead he made it into a game of who has it worse. I get more sympathy from strangers.
I’m kind of scared. There is pain in my pelvis where the stents are, I bruise easily, I’m having extreme headaches and my vision is going in and out. Try peeing when it feels like your peeing nails and not much is coming out anyway. There is pain in my back and sides also. I have lost more weight. I have a muscle wasting disorder to begin with and now it’s worse. My family doesn’t want to hear it. A small part of me hopes this new doctor finds something worth all of this so I can say a big F you to my family. I’ve already been told there is something wrong they just don’t know what. It’s petty I know. I just want to scream at them and can’t.
So anyway again thanks to all of you. There are days I feel like I might not make it. Then I read someone else’s story or a comment and I don’t feel as alone. I’m reminded that I can and will continue on to another day.
Isolation and lack of socializing is the number one reason I think people harm themselves or commit suicide. When you feel dismissed, or like you don’t matter, I start to think what’s the point? Why am I struggling so hard to get up everyday? Why am I going through all this pain if I don’t have to? And yes I do know that children are starving, soldiers are dying, there are homeless people suffering, and there are a great many people who probably have it worse than me. But you don’t really know me and what I’ve been through. Yes I have my arms and legs. They are weak and the muscle has been eaten away in places leaving odd gaps. This has happened in my face too. I am in physical pain most of the time because I’m losing most of the cartilage between the discs in my back. My back is also filled with arthritis along with my hips and pelvis. I have osteoporosis at 42. Also Vitamin D resistant Rickets. I was healthier at 250 than I am at 126 pounds. There is something seriously wrong with my kidneys and ureters that 4 doctors can’t figure out. My Bipolar Medications are not really working because of this.
My Psychiatrist keeps changing my diagnosis. One minute I am Bipolar I next visit I am Bipolar II the visit after that I’m back to I again and there was one visit where I was Unspecified. The Conversion Disorder, Anxiety, and Social Phobia stays the same. Catatonia was added recently and I don’t know why. At this point I don’t care.
I am mostly in the house all day alone. Once in awhile I will get to see my sister when she feels like it. My dad doesn’t talk much anymore. My friends have disappeared. Support groups have not worked well for me. It’s my own fault. I cry too much and people get annoyed. Crying is my way of talking. I can’t get out what I want to say so it comes out in tears. Whether I am angry, frustrated, sad, it doesn’t matter. I have trouble with my speech so this is how it comes out. I don’t blame people for not wanting to be around. If they would let me take the time to talk it would be better. But everyone is in a hurry. They have kids, husbands, jobs, etc., things I don’t have. It isn’t a pity party, it’s a fact. So what am I doing here? Surviving.
A while ago I was on Facebook and not blogging. I was also manic and had seen a documentary done by a musician that I loved when I was younger. It was about how we perceive beauty and what some people have had to go through in their lives. Bullying, abuse, drugs, alcohol, homelessness and depression. I thought it was well done and sent him a message on FB. To my surprise he responded publicly. I had to shut down my FB page because he has over a million followers and too many were asking me for help. I wasn’t qualified to do that, I could only tell my story.
I went to Twitter instead. I followed him and a few other people. He would respond to some of my tweets. I found out that this was part of a marketing strategy. I saw a conversation where he said one of my tweets was “annoying” and I forget the other word. This crushed me. All along I thought I had connected with someone who understood. In reality I was being used. I went into a deep depression. My Conversion Disorder was back full force. I could barely speak or hold a fork because of the tremors. The stuttering was so bad I would’ve written what I needed to say if my hands weren’t shaking so bad. I felt like a fool, worthless, made fun of, a freak, bullied. My accounts were being monitored by Twitter. My brother, the computer programmer, confirmed all this to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. That’s how bad it was. I had spent over $600 on concert tickets and hotel rooms in my manic state. Now I wasn’t going. It took a long time to get past this.
Yesterday I get several notifications from people who “liked” my post on his Facebook page. He had taken it down. I guess it’s back up. He had put it on the band’s website and several other social media venues also. It isn’t copyrighted so I can’t do anything about it. I just turned the notifications off. I don’t know how they got through when I unsubscribed to his FB page and anything else having to do with him. If my post helps others fine. I just don’t want to be reminded of my stupidity and how out of control I can be when manic. The fallout is too great. I’m also not in a great place right now and don’t need the aggravation. On the other hand maybe it’s good to be reminded how bad I can get.
If my superpower is invisibility then could I please be truly invisible? Or maybe unaware? I see things or feel what others don’t. My sister and my long time friend will tell me I’m being paranoid or too sensitive. Then I have to prove it. Once I tell them what to look for, body language or the person’s eyes, they get it. I’m tired of this. Tired of going to CVS and knowing I am going to get an eye roll or talked about as I walk away. I’m sorry I talked too much after that one round of shock therapy, and after changing some of my meds constantly. I’m sorry for asking questions about my medications. I thought that was part of being a pharmacist. I try to be silent now. Even when the new generic I got isn’t working and all of the prices have changed. Today was hard, I couldn’t keep the tears in as I walked away from the counter. No one noticed the red head staring at the water cooler until she could control her emotions. They never do. This power of invisibility has been with me for so long now I wouldn’t know what to do if I was seen. My birthday parties were always for two. Only one celebrated. My sister and her friends had fun every year. I watched from the sidelines. I didn’t know until later she was counting the years until it could just be her. I was actually banned from her birthday parties when she was in college. It’s ok I was a full-blown alcoholic by then. Today I am sober and more alone than ever. I go from anger to sadness hour by hour. My health is in question so I am stuck in limbo medication wise and therapy wise. I’m forgetting words more often and my stutter is embarrassing. It’s been made clear that family and the public really do not want to be around anyone who is “sick” or “down”. There is no place for me except with animals or by the water. If I could I would go to a place like that.
My sister finally calls this afternoon about our father. I started trying to reach her June 13 at 11:00 a.m. by calling, texting, facebook, and texting again. I refuse to call her husband to get in touch with her. I made it very clear that there was a situation going bad. She talks to him today and he makes everything sound normal. He doesn’t mention pushing me into the wall in his frazzled state and running around until he collapses. This is the last straw. I’ve had enough.
It isn’t just his treatment of me, his personality has changed due to the dialysis and he’s scared. I have seen him crying after he has been mean to me. I understand. I live with him and have always spent the most time with him. I told him today he needs to do his will. He doesn’t understand what my sister and brother will do. I told him straight out. They think they can just release the birds. As for his clocks they know nothing about them and don’t care. If the dogs are still alive they will have to be given to a shelter because I doubt they will be letting me stay long enough to find a place to live with all three of them. He didn’t think this would happen. I told him this is what was said to me. My sister and brother are not animal people so it wouldn’t bother them. They also don’t know that the birds won’t fly “away”. These types of birds will stay where they are. They have no clue about the clocks and the beauty of the workmanship that went into them. My sister mentioned selling the birds to restaurants, something my father would never do and has refused to do in the past.
About the neighbor. I personally inoculated these birds from disease by injecting them in the neck with the proper medicine just like a vet would do. She had seen something on tv. These birds are healthier than any you would find in a breeding program to increase the population of endangered species, which my father has a license to do. With only a 7th grade education. I’m proud as hell that he’s accomplished that. My sister and brother do not get this.
My brother (my father’s stepson) has not called or come over in about 6 months because my father doesn’t allow alcohol in the house and hates talking to someone that has been drinking. My father worries himself sick about what to do about him.
My sister never calls him or comes over. Her excuse is the dogs and that he knows how to use the phone too. He has called her many, many times with no response until I get involved. This makes me the bad guy.
So what I’m saying is they deserve nothing. I took care of my mother while she was dying in this house. They never came. I am now taking care of my father in the last stage of kidney failure on dialysis. I am the only one that offered a kidney. Mine are damaged. I didn’t know. I would give him the world if I could. He used to joke and smile with me all the time. Not anymore. He feels like I do. A burden. He isn’t, I just don’t want to lose him but at the same time he scares me.
My mom got pregnant on purpose. He was scared and left for awhile. When he came back that was it he was committed. He changed diapers, brushed our hair, fed us, my mom had one he had the other. He didn’t have to come back. But he did and chose to be the best father he knew how to be. He never really had one, there were no hugs in his family and no expressions of emotion. No one told each other “I love you”. He made sure that changed with us. How hard that had to have been for him. He said it was all because of my mom. I believe it.