I know…

I haven’t been here in awhile, but really it’s the only place I can rant and get it all out…so here goes.

Someone I know posted an update on Facebook saying that they think insurance companies should give out Wii’s if doctors prescribe them for health reasons.

Now, let’s think about the ever rising cost of health care as it is.  Let’s really take a step back and think about what the Nintendo Wii really is…it’s a gaming system.  Key word in that: GAME.  So, we’re going to have insurance companies cover $300-400 in equipment for a person to use privately in their home?  Why in the hell would we do that?

People can’t afford insurance as it is.  Insurance covers less and less.  It’s gotten more and more expensive.  There are how many millions of people WITHOUT insurance…  So, yes, let’s give unmotivated people a Wii so that they’ll exercise.

WTF?!?

Then I’m told that I must be anti-Wii.  And I’m not.  Actually, I have one.  And an xBox.  And we have Nintendo DS too.  I enjoy my toys.  But they are just that…toys.  They are not a necessity to life.   They are certainly not the only way to exercise.

And here’s the thing.  I think Wii can do a lot of good for patients who need physical therapy or motivation, but I certainly don’t think they should be able to get a prescription for a $300 game system to use privately, at home.  Is it okay for a health care facility to use them?  Most definitely if it’s working.  Is it okay for an in-home aid to bring one to a client and help them use it while they are there?  Sure thing.  But do I think you should get one because you need a good reason to get fit?

Get off your lazy ass.

And if it’s not that you are lazy, perhaps save for one.  How’s that for some motivation?  Buddy up with a friend who has one.  Find an exercise buddy and do something else you both enjoy.

Why is it that we all think we should just get and get and get?  {And I mean me too!!!}  Our insurance company should give it to us.  The bank should give it to us.  That store should lower their prices to better suit what I want to pay.  The car company shouldn’t charge so much.  I want I want I want.  Me Me Me.

I’m sorry the whole world doesn’t have a Wii and a Wii Fit Plus.  I’m sorry the whole world can’t just have everything handed to them on a silver platter.

Perhaps this person should pray and the damn things will just fall from the sky.  I mean that god guy is so damn great, right?

Losing it…

I’m going downhill in a speeding car.  I freaked this morning.  Literally just freaked.  I ask for the leftovers to be put away ONCE every six months by someone other than myself — they are sitting on the counter now rotted and have to be thrown out (it’s chicken).   I don’t get help with stupid things like household chores.  Am I really the only person capable of loading/unloading and running a dishwasher?  Am I the only one who knows how to sweep or mop?  Am I the only person who remembers that the dogs have to use the outside facilities?

I’m sick of it.  I’m already hanging by a thread mentally.  I’ve been desperately holding on for dear life to that stupid thread and now I’m in complete meltdown.  And I give up.  I’m on strike.  I’m not doing shit for anyone.

The Insanity of It!

Somehow this anxiety has got to fucking stop. I have been in anxious mode for over 24 hours now. Even through a night of sleep. I’m having panic attacks. I’m having visions of every possible bad thing ever happening. I keep having this nagging thought that my husband is cheating on me. What the FUCK!

Appointment Made

Well one appointment down…goodness knows how many I’ve got to go. I will be seeing a psychiatrist for the first time in over 2 years on January 27th and I hope this will get me back on track and get this bipolar better managed than what I’ve managed to do in the last 18 months. *fingers crossed*

Phone Tag is Fun?

I’m playing phone tag with a psychiatry office right now.  Good times.  Of course, after waiting over a day for them to call, they finally did…while I was in the shower.  And when I called back, once again, I had to leave a message.  But, they’ve called me, I’ve called them.  The 2nd message I left was much more detailed and I’m hoping the lady I left the message for can sense that there is some urgency in having me seen as soon as possible; regardless of whether or not they can see me.

I don’t know what bug bit my ass, but I just finished mopping the floor.  It probably won’t look any better considering that as I’m mopping it the dogs were following me around shedding hair and leaving paw prints.  *sigh*  Why do I even bother some days?

The weeks are dwindling down to our move.  I’m getting a bit freaked out.  My anxiety is skyrocketing.  Oh, it is bad.  I haven’t gone into my secret stash of little blue pills, but I’ve thought about it at least three times a day this week alone.  My husband is worried that on meds I won’t be interested in being intimate with him.  I don’t remember if I want sex or not while medicated, but apparently I told him my sex drive decreased.  It probably did.  I don’t remember ever saying that about anything other than birth control.  Leave it to a guy to be worried about my sex drive.

Thankfully though, even though he is worried about the various changes, he’s super supportive about me going.  He doesn’t quite understand why I feel like I’m so crazy, but like I told him today…we’ve never lived together unless you count 12 days in a hotel room during his leave.  I don’t count that.  We did well those 12 days, but after almost 8 months apart, who wouldn’t?  Maybe someone wouldn’t?  I don’t know.  I was happy to see him I probably would have stood on my head for 12 days if that’s what was required to keep him home.

Goals

Yeah, okay, yesterday sucked for a bit.

A. I called to make an appointment with a shrink.  No one answered.  I left a message and as of yet, no one has called back.  {cue super sad face}  My anxiety has been more pronounced then usual and I’m trying to get up the courage to call this doc again to see about getting an appointment.

Now that you all know I’m at least attempting to attempt to make an attempt at going and seeing someone, I’m sure we can all let out a collective sigh of “finally”.

But, what I really wanted to talk about was one of the goals  I have for this year which is to take even more pictures than I did last year.  2009 was a pretty stellar year for my camera and I.  We were pretty inseparable for quite a few events, activities, days, holidays, weeks and months.   Regardless, I didn’t take nearly as many photos as I would have liked.  I bombed at doing the 365 challenge and overall just didn’t do as much as I would have liked.

• My goal is to not only do the 365 challenge (taking one picture a day for the entire year), but also to get myself to a point where I take a minimum of at least 50 photos a day, maybe even 100.
• I’d like to get better at using the different features of my camera which will require me to actually read the owners manual.  It’s only a point and shoot, but it’s a nice one and I know it can take real quality photos when used properly.
• And I want to save money for a “photographers camera”.  A real nice one to use.  I probably won’t buy one this year, but I’d like to start putting away a little money towards one.
• I want to take more self portraits, if not self portraits more photos at least where I’m in them.  I stayed behind the camera for too many years.  I regret that.
• I want as many pictures as possible of me and my husband when he’s home.
• I want oodles and oodles of pictures of my beautiful children.

And that’s all.  😉

I need to talk the hard stuff…

This might be the only time I do this, it might be the start of another form of therapy.  Either way, I need to get this stuff out there and I need to see that I do need to go the doc because I still haven’t made that call yet and I’m suffering and I know it.  If you know me and you don’t want to hear about my weird crazy sex type fetishes/thoughts or just don’t want to know some of the inner workings of my odd self, feel free to leave now.  Just sayin’.

THIS POST IS RATED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY.  THANK YOU.

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The first time I remember masturbating was 3rd grade.  I distinctly remember using my “life size” doll to help me.   I can’t recall if I pretended the doll was a man or a woman, but an adult regardless.  And adult I knew I believe.  I “knew” it was icky and dirty.  I knew I’d get in trouble if I got caught, but I didn’t care because it felt good.  I masturbated frequently, but never dared to mention it.  As I got older if a boyfriend was crass enough to bring up the topic I would act seriously offended.  They had to have known though because I had a crazy sex drive.

I don’t remember a time where I didn’t want to be “sexy”.  I wanted boys to look at me and I wanted to make them crazy.  To turn them on.  I would devise ways to get them to sleep with me.  I  didn’t always go through with it, but in my head I knew that if I wanted them, I could have them.

Sex has been a weapon for as long as I can remember.  Withhold it if you don’t get want you want, give freely when they are being good to you.  I’ve had few relationships where sex wasn’t the motivating factor in me sticking around.  When the sex got dull I’d bail.  That’s been hard to stop doing.  Damn hard.

Also?  I think I’m fat.  During sex mostly.  I can handle how I look in clothing and prance around like I’m a fucking super model, but the clothes come off and I prefer the darkness.  Then again, I’ll do crazy things in the dark, so who cares right?

Breather…be back soon..maybe.

Old Fashioned Therapy

Old fashioned therapy comes in many forms.  And sometimes you don’t even know you need it.

I was sorting through boxes today in preparation for the move.  It seems for the next 11-12 weeks the only things I’ll be doing are preparing to move.  I’m okay with that, but boy do you find some strange things along the way.

Today?  Two years worth of letters I wrote to my ex-husband (#2) while in HIGH SCHOOL.   Ugh!  Let me tell you at first I wasn’t really sure what too do with those.  I wondered if there was any logical reason to save them and realized there wasn’t.  Only a further emotional tie could make me keep them and I don’t have that anymore.  And if I do have it, it’s only enough to make me sad that things had to end so poorly twice for the two of us.  We should have handled things better.

So, I did what anyone might.  Perhaps something I should have done years and years and years ago…  I tore it all up.  Every letter.  Every envelope.  Every card.  In all colors of rainbow marker, pen and pencil were they written.  And when I was done I took pictures of my handy work, tied them up in a bag and threw them in the garbage.

It felt good to rid myself of a little bit more baggage.

And then I found our wedding album.

Does it ever end?

Well, howdy!

You know, I hadn’t even realized that I had written recently until…well, just now.

I’m feeling much better.  The holidays have been a bit of a roller coaster and I think a lot of it was circumstance and things that need no explanation really.  As it stands for right now I’m about as normal as I’ll ever be.

I got the chance to visit with an old friend.  Now, old friend is also an old boyfriend and briefly a fiance.  So briefly in fact that now we laugh and wonder what the HELL we were thinking.  Us?  Married?  Never in a million years can that even be pictured.  He’s married.  I’m married.   Kids.  Houses.  You know, life happened.  TEN years of life happened before I suppose the past was far enough behind us that we could be friends without all that icky baggage stuff.

He and his wife actually came to my wedding and I was never so excited.  To be able to share that with him?  Was amazing.  Really.

And then tonight, while we were just sitting there {him, his wife, their beautiful son, his sister, her daughter and me} and the third of our little trio called.  Ha!  You wouldn’t believe the things the three of us got into.  We were a riot.  We did everything our mothers told us not to do and managed not to get caught.  They were like brothers, occasionally more, but always, always, ALWAYS the best people to go to whenever I needed a shoulder and an ear.  I couldn’t have survived high school without these guys.  They are amazing, amazing, amazing friends.

But, just imagine his surprise to have me get on the phone after…YEARS…of us not talking.  Getting to catch up for a few minutes and just relive some of the craziness that used to define who we were.  Things that made us who we are now.

I tell you…there are some friends that you just don’t realize how great they are until much later.  You don’t realize exactly their place until sometimes it’s too late.  Occasionally though, you get a second chance to just be friends, in the true sense of the word, without the baggage and weirdness of being a teen and it’s AMAZING.  And it rocks.  And it makes me a happy, happy person.

Tears

I’m almost in tears just sitting here.

I can’t go home for RC Day.  Mother Nature has assured this.  In fact, it’s not until almost 2 days after RC Day that the weather even calms down enough for me to think about it and within four days more winter storms are forecast.  It’s bullshit.  Every single time I want to travel home in the winter a storm comes.  I’m done.  I just want something familiar.  I need a hug like you can’t even believe and the kids just aren’t cutting it.  I can’t break down and cry when they hug me.  That’s too much burden on them.

I can go to the doctor now, but I don’t know HOW to go to the doctor now.  I don’t know what the protocol is for doing this 2 years after the fact.  Do I make an appointment and then worry about it?  What if they decide not to cover it?  I can’t find any information about pre-existing conditions, but how the hell do I know?

And then I just don’t know.  Is bipolar even what I have?  I don’t remember much about what happened when I was diagnosed and I don’t remember much about the 8-9 months after.  I was either in medicated lala land or I was in the throes of deep depression.  Take your pick.  Both are mostly blocked out of my mind and I remember very little.  I focused what little energy I did have on providing basic care for the kids and did nothing else that required effort, emotion or energy.

I feel so lost right now and so confused.  I want to just scream and cry and then laugh at the vagueness of it all.  I can’t even fully describe to you this feeling of complete and utter despair because it’s for no reason.  If my child had died, you could probably get a sense of what I felt.  If my parent had died, again, you could maybe relate a similar experience.  But despair over nothing?  How do you explain that?  How does a normal person ever even begin to understand the hell I am in right now?  How?

As far as I’ve come.  As good as the past months have been.  And it still catches up to me.  It gets me in it’s grasp and pulls me back in the swirling blackness of despair.  WHY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?  I don’t want this.  I don’t want to be like this.  I don’t want to think like this.  I don’t want to feel like this.  Please take it away.  Please make me feel better.  I need help right now, much like the help I needed two years ago and I’m just too overwhelmed to even do anything for myself and I feel so  unsupported here.  So alone.  So very, very, very alone.

I wish he was here.  I know he’d do anything I needed to take this pain away.  Even if it isn’t “real” pain.  Even if he doesn’t really understand.  I know he’d still get me what I needed and try to take this pain away.  I need him right now.  I need someone to be my strength and I only have myself to rely on and it sucks.  More than anything, it sucks.

I’m going to go cry now.  And if I’m back again later, I can only offer my apologies.  This is far better than alternatives.