PETTINESS IN ME

Truth time. I find myself feeling jealous and angry way more times than I would like. It’s my own fault. I realize that. I had unreal expectations and I have to admit there were reasons I never lost weight previously. None of these reasons were medical.

There was a part of my diseased brain that thought if I could only be “skinny” my life would be perfect.

There was a bigger part of my diseased brain that thought “what if you lose weight and still no one loves you? Or you’re still treated like dirt and stay alone?”.

There was a part of my healthy brain that said “let’s not find out”.

I watched the people around me, taking in every detail, mannerism, and personality. I tried to mimic what was successful for other people. You can only do that for so long before you lose yourself. I lost myself and became someone I didn’t recognize. I still don’t recognize.

With each person in my life I have to be someone different. I have to try hard to remember what I can talk about and what I can’t. I have to know who I can be honest with and who I have to pretend with. The honest side has just gone to 0 as of an hour ago.

I talked to my best friend W about an hour ago. I know in the last few years she doesn’t want to hear anything “negative”. This means health issues, family problems, world wide problems or causes, nothing. This leaves her yard, her cats, her job, and her car. Today I told her I was considering a trip back to L.A. in December. She wanted to know why. I told her she didn’t want to hear negative stuff on a Holiday. She said to tell her. I told her it’s been stressful with my Dad and sister, I was going to continue but she cut me off.

She said “Instead of running or going on vacation every time and wasting money why don’t you save it instead. It isn’t going to get better with your Dad you need to start thinking about moving out. Some us wish we could just “take a vacation” every time we get stressed”. I held my tongue but I was furious. She squirrels away her money like Howard Hughes never letting anyone know how much she really has. I know. It’s enough to buy a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom house in cash. She doesn’t like to pay for anything.

I don’t like being questioned about how I spend my money and why. I don’t want to tell people that I might not be here in year or two so I want to do some things now while I can. As far as leaving my dad alone or putting him in a home, it isn’t happening. If I have to take little vacations to clear my head and relax than I will. It’s called a Credit Card. And as my dear mum always told me “D, You can’t get blood from a stone”.

Back to jealousy. I have 2 followers on Twitter. It shouldn’t bother me. It does bother me. This constant need to fit in and be liked. The hope that someone will say something positive about how I look is the hardest part to admit. Validation. I’ve never had it. Do I need it? Sometimes I think everyone feels they do at some point.

When I see someone I follow “like” or “Follow” someone that isn’t me but your stereotypical woman you would see in a Russian Strip Club for the mafia, fur coat and all, it puts a dent in your self esteem. I feel like an idiot for having any feelings about it at all. I think when I’m manic I get the idea that everyone should think I’m great. When they don’t I go one the defensive.

I miss dressing up, going out, and drinking. It seemed so much easier then. I know I hurt people, mostly I hurt myself. My parents were always worried about what I was doing and when I was coming home. The real damage was done to myself. I don’t like to say I’m in recovery or even sober anymore. Remission is my word. It doesn’t mean I’m making plans to drink, I would vomit right now if I did. It means if I did relapse there isn’t as much shame and guilt attached. You get back up and carry on. You don’t “start over”. This deters people from continuing their sobriety. When you tell them that one night erases 15 years and they have to start over some of them think “Why bother?”. That shouldn’t be the case. 15 years shouldn’t disappear because of 1 night. I strongly disagree with that.

Ok, I’ll wrap it up because I’m tired. I am thankful for my Dad, my animals, my sister, my brother, the love my mother gave me, movies, music, adult coloring, and Cocoa Pebbles.eba9ebed2c1b052a2e556344efa6b04f

 

 

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Feeling Alone and Knowing It

I understand that unless you are Bipolar or have a Mental Illness you will never be able to truly comprehend what some of us go through. Something that others would “get over” in time, takes me years or sometimes never to “get over”. I am told almost daily to “stop living in the past”.

Let me ask this. Would you want someone to whip you everyday then pour salt in your wounds? Would you want your head to feel like it’s going to explode with the pressure? Your heart with the pain? I don’t think so. Neither do I. But it’s what it feels like. Often. I can’t pray it away, wish it away, chant it away, think of a stop sign, snap a rubber band, or use any behavioral management. If it’s going to come I can’t stop it. I can only wait it out and hope it leaves me whole and not in pieces.

There was an incident recently where someone said something to me about how I need to get used to being alone. They said my father’s health is failing and once he passes I’ll be alone. It isn’t like I have children like my sister does. Well, thanks for that pep talk! Assholes, everybody has one. I would’ve loved to have children if I hadn’t spent most of my child baring years drunk. I refused to bring a child into this world that I couldn’t afford, to be raised in dysfunction. When I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder I made the decision not to have children because of my family history. I was kind of on the fence. If I had met a man who was kind and stable who knows? Then due to kidney disease and other health issues the choice was taken from me. I went into Menopause at 39/40 years of age. So that was that.

I always thought my twin sister would be there for me. I should have known better. Even when we were younger she didn’t want us to have the same friends. I was not allowed to be at the same parties she was in high school. It got a little better when we got older but we never were as close as I wanted us to be. She thinks we are too close if we talk more than 3 times a week. My mother and her sister talked sometimes 3 times a day! And would see each other almost every other day! They talked and laughed. How I miss hearing them laugh. I miss a lot of things.

Good news is my dad is feeling a little better. He sold all of his chickens and a few pigeons. That’s progress. His mood has improved a little bit but it comes and goes. I still get the brunt of it as usual.

 

HAVE YOU EVER

Have you ever found yourself all dressed up with no place to go? Driving fast, listening to the songs of your youth (Skid Row Slave to The Grind) and thinking or wishing you could go back to that time. Not how you were then but how you are now. A prettier version of your former self some might say. And it hits you like a punch in the gut. You want a drink. You want to recapture some of that fun you think you had. Just one shot and you would be fine. The song playing (Wasted Time) wouldn’t be shredding your heart and tears wouldn’t be rolling down your face as you sing the words. The people that once knew you would be envious and you’d buy them a round.

They wouldn’t know that somewhere inside of you, you are dying piece by piece from the loneliness and fear of your demons. They wouldn’t know you spend seven days a week in your pajamas by yourself. They would only see what you let them. The shots would go down smoother as the night progresses. You wouldn’t be thinking of the shame that follows in the morning only of the fun you are having in the now.

I stay in my car and drive past the bar. It is not because I fear going in. It is because I fear never coming out. So I do as I am supposed to and head home. I feel numb but angry. I go inside to be questioned by my father about the groceries I didn’t buy. He’s angry because he knows the truth that I am manic and searching for something, anything that will make sense to me and comfort me. There isn’t anything. I didn’t “work a program” like others I know. Somehow this makes my accomplishment of sobriety less than theirs. It’s so easy to excuse someone’s behavior when you can say “but he/she is working the program, putting in an effort, all they have to succeed, so we’ll let it slide.” No one has ever let me slide or not be held accountable for my actions everyday for the last seven years. Because I didn’t work a program, become a friend of Bill’s, go to a church basement or a rehab. I did it on my own. Now I stay on my own.

WORTHLESS AND WEAK

I feel the same way I used to feel when I was younger. Without my Bipolar Medications working it all comes back. I’m back to the worthless piece of shit I always thought I was. Only this time I’m skinny instead of fat. I still hear their insults in my head though. “Fat f*cking c*nt”, “Fat cow”, “Hope you never get pregnant because no one would ever know” (the entire room laughs). Elephant noises being made at me at parties, being spit on, and then when they were drunk enough and no one was around it would be the opposite and I couldn’t say anything. I always kept my mouth shut. Most of the time. Until I started drinking heavily and could say what I actually felt. I kind of miss that. I hate this quivering, cowardly, scared, person I am all the time.

When you are constantly having every bad, horrible thing ever done or said to you in your lifetime spinning through your head it’s hard to live.

There are days of manicness mixed in. Days I think I know things and I’m smart. But something or someone always reminds me I’m not. Days I spend large amounts of money on things I don’t need when I have a pile of medical bills. I think of drinking more and more lately. I feel I might not have much time left and I should just have fun while I can. No one is helping me. No one wants to help me. A person shouldn’t have a body temperature of 93 degrees and NOT be in the hospital. Yet I was dismissed. I shouldn’t be down to 119 pounds at 5’6″. I shouldn’t have blurry vision, trouble breathing, red urine, pain in my sides and back, headaches that are from pressure or fluid in my brain, and fatigue while taking Adderall. It’s all in black and white in my file. Things I was never told. I have Diabetes and Hypothyroidism. No one ever told me. No one has told me YET! I went to 2 new Doctors that asked “So I see you Type 2 Diabetes and Hypothyroidism.” My response was “I do?”. Nice of someone to tell me.

I am constantly obsessing over the past. The people I hurt. Did I do enough for my mom when she was alive? Did she know I loved her more than anything in the world? Was my brother in law right? Do I not take ownership of the things I’ve done. Am I just lazy? Did I deserve everything that has happened to me? Do I deserve to live? I’ve actually been told by a few people that I do not. Then I was locked in a Bathroom with a knife and told to kill myself. I was extremely drunk at the time. I believed what they were saying. So I started cutting. Of course I didn’t do it the right way and they laughed at me. One said “You can’t even do that right you stupid bitch”. I believed all of this. Sometimes 20 years later I still do.

Sometimes I wake up and think I’m back at that place and I’m drunk. It is the most horrible feeling in the world. I’m so relieved when I realize I’m home and I don’t live like that anymore. It was worse than I’ll ever really admit.

If my family knew everything I don’t know how they would react. What they do know is sometimes used against me in arguments. That hurts. I drank to feel like a “normal” person. I drank so I could talk to people, so I didn’t always feel like I was outside looking in. To throw it in my face after almost 7 years of sobriety is hurtful.

I don’t know how all of this is going to go. I’m trying to hang in there. I did call a Nephrologist today and called my Urologist to tell them how crappy Mass General went. So I’m still fighting. That has to say something.

You’re Dismissed!

I’m going to discuss several things because I haven’t had access to my laptop for a few days.

The first is I’m going to Mass General tomorrow to try to find out why my kidneys keep shutting down. I had called this Dr. on my own to set up an appointment because listed in her credentials as a specialty was “ureteral obstructions”. That is what I have it’s just no one know where, how, why, or what.

So when I call her office and explain to the woman on the phone what’s going on she says “Well, I don’t know if she can help you. She really specializes in kidney stones.” I said “What about the urteral obstructions?”. She said that really meant kidney stones. Even though kidney stones was listed as separate specialty. So I said ok I would continue my search. In the mean time my Urologist was searching for a specialist for me in Boston.

He came up with the same Dr. I had and called her. They booked an appointment for me. When he talked to the Dr. directly it was different.

Today I called to ask a question about a Blue Card they said I needed. The same woman I spoke to before answered. I told her I had been in a lot of pain in my sides and back and my temperature was running between 93 to 94 degrees. She said if I felt that bad I should go to my local emergency room. I tried to tell her the reason I was coming to Mass General was because no one in my state has been able to help me. She was trying to talk me out of coming to my appointment. I told her I would definitely be there.

Here I am alone, scared, confused, and again this woman is making me feel like I’m not going to the right Dr. or I’m not wanted. Part of this is probably due to my medications not working but I don’t think all of it is.

A body temp of 93 to 94 degrees means that there is organ failure. It’s extremely dangerous. I’m holding out one more day because I know I won’t get the answers here. Even my family agrees with me on that. This isn’t the first time I have had to deal with a Doctor’s staff that was rude or didn’t know what they were doing and all the time I blamed the Doctor. I wonder if they know what their staff says to potential patients? This Doctor has written published papers on the subject of “obscure ureteral obstructions” and she also teaches. Her credentials are impeccable. I’m sure she could at least point me in the right direction. Or maybe I’m just crazy like most people say and think I am.

I’ve had a hard time getting over the fight I had with my brother in law. I’m wondering if he was right. If I haven’t taken ownership of the things I’ve done in the past or even what I don’t do now. Maybe I am lazy not sick. Maybe I just make excuses. Maybe I didn’t do enough for my mom when she was dying. Maybe I deserve to be sick now as punishment for the things I’ve done. I have felt suicidal lately. I don’t have the balls to do it unless I’m drunk. I put a knife to my wrist and started cutting in front of my father the other day. I’m so ashamed for doing that to him. I felt so helpless and confused I didn’t know how to express it. I wanted the pain, grief, anger, loneliness, etc. to just end. I also just wanted someone to hug me and tell me it would be ok. No one did. I have to get it together.

Without my kidneys working my medications won’t work. Without my physical health I won’t my mental health. Something has to give. I can’t live like this. This isn’t living. Afraid of everything, crying all the time or having bouts of anger and lashing out at the nearest person. It isn’t good for anyone. I really hope tomorrow gives me some answers or at least some hope.

 

Losing It Big Time!

Lately my anger is coming out more often. I have no tolerance for anyone. Right now my dad is eating chips on the couch next to me. He’s yelling at the puppy and pushing him off the couch because the pup wants chips.

Guess who taught him to beg? That’s right folks! My dad! The same one who’s yelling at the dog now and pushing him off the couch. I told him when I first got the dog not to feed him from the table or anywhere else. I told him I only wanted him to have dog food. Yup. Those rules lasted about 2 weeks. When I was in the hospital my dad did what he wanted with the puppy. So now he begs and eats human food.

The dog also keeps me awake most of the night. He likes to wake up at 3:00 a.m. and chew the corners of my pillow. He also likes to lick the sheets for some weird reason. When I roll over and there is a wet spot I think he’s had an accident but it’s just from him licking. He licks my right side where my kidney is worse obsessively. He chews my hair. Oh! And I’m allergic to his dander to the point I wake up wheezing and gasping for breath. I have to run for my inhaler. One eye swells shut.

Over a month ago I suggested finding him another home. I have never, ever, given up an animal. But with my health declining I just can’t do it. My father said absolutely not. I said then you take care of him. My dad said fine I will. I’m still taking care of him. I love him, it isn’t his fault. I hope when they figure out why my Kidneys keep failing and I get better I can spend quality time with him. I can give him some exercise and training. Hee Hee I’m so dreaming. But you never know. I might get better.

I Don’t Know Much But…

It’s been a little rough lately. I’m having trouble coping with everything going on physically and mentally. I have thought of going to a Hotel and drinking for a night. But with my kidneys failing it’s probably a bad idea. I’m afraid I still might. My impulse control is not so great right now. My memory is also going. I never paid the taxes on my car and now I can’t register it. Total cost for that is $126. Money is stressing me out. Leaving the house is stressing me out. My Health Insurance is stressing me out. My idiot Doctors are stressing me out. My family is stressing me out. I have no support. My moods are out of control.

A police woman came to the house yesterday. My dad hit a parked car at Wal-Mart and didn’t know it. There was very little damage. He has a big truck and had dialysis that day and the car that was next to him was big and beat up. He probably wasn’t paying attention and with the ringing in one ear he didn’t hear anything either. He isn’t the type of person to just leave. He would’ve waited for the person to come out or left a note. The female police officer I have come across before. She isn’t pleasant. As soon as I checked to see what was going on and saw her I knew I needed to intervene. My dad couldn’t find his current insurance cards and was frustrated. She was irritated also. I went outside in my pajamas looking extremely sick. She looked me up and down and asked who I was. I told her I was the daughter and explained that he’s on dialysis and he’s also worried about me because I’m in kidney failure. I told her he would never just leave that I was sure he didn’t know he did it. She said the damage to the other car was so minimal that I was probably right.

She was just coming around when my dad came back outside. She explained she wasn’t going to charge him with leaving the scene of an accident. That was as far as she got before he became belligerent saying “What accident?” I finally calmed him down and explained to him that she knew he wasn’t aware he did anything. I sent him back into the house and finished with the officer.

Guess what? I couldn’t get in contact with my sister. I was kind of worried about my dad’s behavior. I thought maybe he shouldn’t be driving. He plans on driving back and forth to Springfield, MA for 3 days next week. It’s a 3 hour drive each way from our house. But again I have to deal with it on my own. Like I always have. If one more person tells me I should just “move out” I swear I will drop kick them. Where do these people think I’m going to get the money? Who do these people think will look after my dad? What about my dog? It’s so easy for people to say. This man never abandoned me even when everyone said ” Tough Love is the best, you need to kick her out”. He refused. No matter what I did he said he loved me and wasn’t giving up. My mom was the same. So I’m supposed to abandon him? I didn’t abandon my mom when she was dying. I washed her, changed her soiled sheets, stayed up all night with her, and did my best. My siblings were nowhere to be found.

I just want my appointment at Mass General to get here. I’m hoping they keep me. It could be like a vacation. I hope the beds are comfortable. Migraines, nosebleeds, neck pain, low grade fever, nausea, extreme pain on the sides of my back radiating to the front and into my pelvis. I can’t take any painkillers. My jaw hurts from clenching it constantly, one minute I’m sweating the next I’m freezing, it’s like the flu times a thousand.

I don’t think there is supposed to be this much blood in my urine. But I’m told to wait until I go to Boston. I hope I make it. lol

What I know is I’ve through worse than this. I have to remember that. I have to remember I can’t change other people. I have to remember and accept the bills will be there and you can’t blood from a stone. I know I need someone to talk to and I need to look into it after the kidney thing is figured out. I also need to admit that my Psychiatrist might have been great at the beginning but is now making too many mistakes. It’s time for a change as much as I hate it. I have to let things go. That is the hardest part for me. The past isn’t the past for me. It’s always right there at the surface ready to take over with it’s pain, pettiness, despair, jealousy, grief, and regret. I have to learn to deal with that.