I hate bipolar.
It eats me alive. It takes away who I am, and who I want to be. Today I found myself on my kitchen floor in a ball crying. I found comfort in the floor because I felt at least one part of me was supported- the part of me that was pressed up against it, but still.
I can’t blog. The only feelings I have are feelings of helpless. I don’t, can’t, and absolutely refuse to give that vile vomit in my head a voice.
I haven’t told anyone but sometimes I'm crying all the time. Today I screamed out loud, and it was to the wrong person, at the wrong time. I’m overloaded. I am really sick. It hasn't been this bad for five years or so.
David is here keeping me safe, and I am going to see my doctor very soon.
I don’t know when this storm will pass- it will- they all do. But until it does I am going to disappear. No Facebook, no Sparks, no nothing. All of the hard work that I have put out there to make connections- well if they’re there when I get back so be it. If not…I will start from scratch. I love all of my internet friends, and I am sorry that I am out of contact, but I am dead inside, and when you feel as bad as I do it is really hard to be in contact.
I love you all so very much…I get over 1,000 hits a month so I know there are people reading what I write, and I am sorry that I am letting you down for the time being. I just didn’t know that I could get this sick again.
I will be back when my meds are adjusted, and my face prints are no longer on the floor.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Going 5 to 17 in one hour...
I told myself I had to post a blog entry even though I have nothing new to write about. I have been stuck indoors because my daughter has been sick for three weeks. Therefore my life has been as exciting as watching paint dry.
I am not a caregiver. It doesn’t come natural to me. I can stroke her hair, give her medicine, tuck her in to bed, give her soup, but that is as far as I go. I am only able to do that because she is my daughter-I am legally bound to stroke her hair, and such, but here the kicker, because nursing not my cup of tea I get so tired that when she sleeps (which is a lot) that I sleep. I don’t even get out of my PJs. I shower, and then I get back into them.
I finally took her to the doctors yesterday and she finally got an anti-biotic to clear things up. I feel bad for not take her sooner, but the doctor’s office has become a scary place, and I was hoping that this bug would go away on its own.
When we did go to the doctors the wait was 2 ½ hours, there were so many people who were coughing, sneezing, and sniffing that I was more afraid she was going to get sicker there than at home.
It was not like every patient had a mask on either. Here is how this dog and pony show worked:
Patients come in, the receptionist points to the red ‘take a number’ ticker tape dispenser. You have to take a number before you can see her. When you come in the reader board says, ‘5’ and you are number ‘17’. Crap, it’s going to be a long wait. It takes an hour to get the front desk, and only then can you explain to the receptionist that you have a cough, and it is only then does the receptionist show concern, and gives you a mask to prevent you from spreading germs. If you have been following along you will have noticed that all of the Hacking Harrys went a whole hour without a mask. What is that all about?
This was a clinic I went to; not my regular doctor. We had some dead battery issues so we missed the appointment with our good sensible-family-doctor. (And by the way it didn’t take me three weeks to get an appointment- it took me three hours. Just so you know our health care doesn’t suck as bad as some of you may think.)
Now for the really bad news: I have a sore throat, and I am tired. If I have to spend another three weeks in my jammies I think- well I am certain that I will lose my mind. I would scream but I am loosing my voice.
I am not a caregiver. It doesn’t come natural to me. I can stroke her hair, give her medicine, tuck her in to bed, give her soup, but that is as far as I go. I am only able to do that because she is my daughter-I am legally bound to stroke her hair, and such, but here the kicker, because nursing not my cup of tea I get so tired that when she sleeps (which is a lot) that I sleep. I don’t even get out of my PJs. I shower, and then I get back into them.
I finally took her to the doctors yesterday and she finally got an anti-biotic to clear things up. I feel bad for not take her sooner, but the doctor’s office has become a scary place, and I was hoping that this bug would go away on its own.
When we did go to the doctors the wait was 2 ½ hours, there were so many people who were coughing, sneezing, and sniffing that I was more afraid she was going to get sicker there than at home.
It was not like every patient had a mask on either. Here is how this dog and pony show worked:
Patients come in, the receptionist points to the red ‘take a number’ ticker tape dispenser. You have to take a number before you can see her. When you come in the reader board says, ‘5’ and you are number ‘17’. Crap, it’s going to be a long wait. It takes an hour to get the front desk, and only then can you explain to the receptionist that you have a cough, and it is only then does the receptionist show concern, and gives you a mask to prevent you from spreading germs. If you have been following along you will have noticed that all of the Hacking Harrys went a whole hour without a mask. What is that all about?
This was a clinic I went to; not my regular doctor. We had some dead battery issues so we missed the appointment with our good sensible-family-doctor. (And by the way it didn’t take me three weeks to get an appointment- it took me three hours. Just so you know our health care doesn’t suck as bad as some of you may think.)
Now for the really bad news: I have a sore throat, and I am tired. If I have to spend another three weeks in my jammies I think- well I am certain that I will lose my mind. I would scream but I am loosing my voice.
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