Thursday, October 30, 2014

Shockingly depressed again today

"You know" I told Ron "If I could take something to get rid of the depression for a while, I just might.  I can see why so many of us (mentally ill) become addicted." 

Ron didn't quite know what to say, except to remind me God is coming back soon and "It (mental illness) will all be over then."

I think I would get into big problems with pain pills - because, the brief time I did take them (prior to ovarian surgery), they took away mental pain as well, and stimulants, because I'm always so damn tired.  

Horrid depression today, I didn't even shower.  It didn't matter since I slept late (8:50 by my clock!), watched Supernatural reruns (I always seem to miss the end of this season when they kill Leviathan), and cleaned the house. 

1.  I had to mop up Ron's blood.  It would have made a great Halloween decoration.  I looked at his head, he has a little goose egg and maybe a half inch laceration.  You wouldn't think it would have bled so much, but boy did it.  I'm on my third try pretreating and washing his t-shirt.  I love him in that shirt, so I do want to save it.  I'm not worried about getting it on my skin, we're married.  God knows the blood center tested him for everything back when he was donating. 

2.  I had to rearrange the front room, shift the bear over by the front door, move the Bibles to the computer room - I have plenty, because I got a delivery today.  Clean the floor, rearrange some storage containers, add some things to the storage, etc.  Sadly, Supernatural was over by then so I had to settle for Judge Judy and Divorce Court. 

Watching the divorce shows, I'm so glad I am married to Ron.  He accepts my abysmal housekeeping and never expects me to make him dinner.  He's thrilled if I give him a TV dinner he heated up in the microwave, and throw out the tray after he's done eating.  He also feeds the cats and does some of the litter box duties.   He's thrilled when I present him with clean clothes (about the only thing I can manage, some days).  He knows I do as much as I can. 

I tried to take a nap a few times, but I couldn't. 

Torbie got into the Snickers box and slept on the last candy bar, mushing it out of shape.  Her body weight, and heat, melted and reformed it.  It's still in the wrapper. 

She also got on my chest for a while today, which was very nice, if highly allergenic.  I don't care, she's my girl and I love her.  She's a nice, fat, old kitty - just what I needed. 

Torbie is pretty much exactly what you'd expect from my first meeting, a very cuddly, sweet, cat.  Baby Girl is a very strong pursonality, often hunting lizards in our back yard, but very sweet and loving in her own ways.  Bubba's love language brought me rats - I don't miss that, but I do miss how he'd sleep with me every night (he wasn't hunting).  Frosty did that, too. 

Maybe that's an old male cat thing - or maybe Torbie isn't that old yet.  I don't know.  She will get cuddlier as the weather chills because my bed's under the only "good" heating vent in the house.  The rest of the house heats fine, but my room has the best heat. 

I also have the ultimate lure: the heated mattress pad.  She adored it last year. 

At least our yard looks good.  Ron and I found a good yard guy who will come out once a month.  I think that will work fine for us. 

God knows I don't have the energy to mow these days, much less weed-whack and all the rest. 

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Approach

I get various reactions when I share my problems - ie - Ron's drinking, blackouts, and verbal abuse. 

Close family are sympathetic, and one offered to send Ron to rehab.   They're praying for him. 

Blog readers tend to get livid.  One gives me dire warnings about Ron's short life expectancy.  Thanks, I know that. 

One day I had to go to work on my own, paying with my own money for a taxi.  I paid myself back at work but I was pretty irate that Ron was sleeping while I busted my tail after no sleep. 

So, when one of the customers asked me about Ron, I told the truth "He's still drunk".   The guys (a couple of them) thought that was "so cool" and applauded. 

Yeaaagh. 

I knew one guy was pretty judgemental, but he and I were online friends.  I sent him to a good church.  Imagine my shock when he showed up at the house one day saying I had to "stop exposing" Ron online, and Ron had to stop verbally abusing me because it was making me depressed.

I left that encounter very frustrated.  For one, I get depressed on some very happy occasions.  I get depressed on vacation.  I got depressed on my wedding day (and I was very happy about it).  I get depressed on payday, and I even get to keep most of my pay.  I just get depressed - it's part of my illness.

I don't believe Ron "makes" me more depressed.  I believe the sleep deprivation can aggravate my illness, and amplify my current mood, whatever it is at the time.  Currently I'm in a rare "baseline" normal mood.  

Yes, verbal abuse needs to stop, absolutely.  When sober, Ron is fairly decent in that regard. 

Ron needs to stop all alcohol consumption, absolutely.  However, the way to do that is approaching Ron logically - asking him to weigh the benefits of alcohol versus the liabilities.  Coming at him with an attitude of critical judgement will just get his dander up and he'll probably tell you to f- off. 

Today I approached the issue pretty logically.  I told him there is blood all over the house, other messes that need cleaning, and the kitchen floor is sticky with what I believe to be a mixture of vodka and blood.  I asked him if last night was "worth it", especially since he didn't remember anything.  Was it worth upsetting me and depriving us of our sleep?  No.  Almost getting in Big Trouble with our primary soda vendor?  No, of course not. 

So, I continued, maybe it wasn't worth it.  Ron agreed. 

Maybe it's just 22 years of marriage.  I do know how to approach Ron on important subjects. 

After I got mugged I left him a lighthearted message on his voicemail (he was sleeping it off, yet again), saying "Hey, I got mugged - well, he tried, but I kicked his ass!  Call me!" 


Two sips

"I only had two sips of vodka!" Ron wailed "What happened?" 

I told him what happened, a night of sleep deprivation, hours of verbal abuse, and discovering a bloodied Ron (he fell out of his wheelchair and hit above an eyebrow) on the kitchen floor.  I didn't shriek at him, it was more a weary retelling instead.  If I get all pity party then Ron gets defensive. 

Have you ever tried to wake up someone having a blackout so you can go to work? 

Have you ever had to convince the disabled blind man that the "broken wheelchair" is, in fact, a furniture chair?    I finally pushed the wheelchair up to the chair and said "Try this one instead" - leaving him alone, and he did. 

Have you ever had to change someone out of a filthy and bloody t-shirt?  I had help for that one, thank God.  Not to mention cleaning the blood off his face. 

It was an awful night, a worse morning, and a long day.  I also discovered, to my regret, a breakfast burrito does not get along with a handful of mood stabilizers and two antidepressants.  I was horribly queasy all day. 

I was at the end of my rope when I picked up my first devotional.  "Don't be afraid to ask for help from other Christians".   That's incredibly appropriate. 

I made some calls - just sharing the awfulness, and my frustration, especially as we had to get to work for a delivery.  The other vendor's wife, in fact, called while Ron was screaming verbal abuse.  She "got it". 

My pride crawled off under the couch to die, a while back.  That didn't faze me.  Yeah, embarrassing, but they know Ron has "problems".  I was more worried about getting to work as I heard our guy had left the pallet out by the stockroom door. 

Ron finally perked up enough to realize we had to get to work, so he called paratransit and arranged a ride.  The driver showed up and helped me clean Ron up and change his shirt, before we got Ron loaded. 

Ron was incredibly unsteady today.  I think, for him, his body is taking longer to metabolize alcohol - either that or he really drank that much.  I did find him in the kitchen, where he keeps the hard stuff. 

We got to work, Ron reasonably presentable.  We stocked.  The deliveryman came back and I paid him.  I told him the truth, and he said "Give Ron a Monster (energy drink)."  I would have if he would have taken it! 

I put away the pallet of soda, and Ron did canned sodas.  I did snack, bottled soda, and food.  The coffee machine seemed to be fine.  I just realized I did forget to check the K-cups, but we'll be back. 

A friend picked us up.  Ron had asked him to take us out to lunch, without consulting me.  I was still horribly queasy.  I just had a piece of cheesecake (not even the whole thing) as the guys ate BBQ.  Then we ran by Walmart and I bought some rodent killers. 

We came home around 2 and I managed to get a 2-hour nap.  I'm exhausted and weary.  Weary of the drama. 

Ron, for now, is swearing he'll break up with vodka.  Sadly, I have heard that before. 

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

I'm boring these days.

My current popular post is me, cleaning a toilet.  I narrate it in great detail.   It's getting lots of hits. 

Hits are down, I think it's because I'm well medicated, groggy, and depressed.  Now if I were manic and raving, I'd get a ton of hits.

I remember one post got tremendous activity.  A supermorbidly obese woman in an electric scooter broke the wheelchair lift on the van, had a tantrum, blamed the transit company, and then tried to trip Ron when we got off the vehicle.  I was most angry about the last, of course.

Anyway it was controversial (I think because I made a comment about Medicaid paying for lap bands - which I have seen work).

Lately, I've just been "raving" about wanting my sleep.  Not as exciting.

My new microphone came in.  Better audio but you'll still have to turn it up.


Monday, October 27, 2014

Please God let it all be over for a few days

You're going to need a timeline:

Saturday, Sam Houston Racepark ("the horses" as they say in Houston) begins a 2-day festival.  "Something Wicked".  It involves club mix music, a DJ, lots of alcohol.  It's called a rave.  It is so loud Saturday night I can hear the music in my bedroom, three and a half miles away, with a fan and a noise machine running simultaneously. 

Ron and I go hunting for the music.  It appears to be coming from the Fed Ex, half a mile away.  I shake my fist at the Fed Ex and say some VERY rude things.  I demand Ron "stop it" because he's the man and it's his job to fix these things. 

[snicker]   Poor Ron.  I was a little cranky. 

Ron calls the county police (we live in the county).  They tell him it's the Racetrack.  Sorry, it will be over in about an hour. 

NOT HAPPY, we go home and endure the music.  Ron had already cancelled church because the trips would have been hideous. 

Now, of course, we can't attend because it's after midnight. I write a scathing letter to the county commissioner. 

Sunday I sleep in as late as possible, after 10.  I have a very early wakeup on Monday and I have discovered the stupid rave thing runs another night. 

Sure enough, after falling asleep for an hour or so, the loud bass wakes me up again and I end up lying in bed doing intercessory prayer for everyone, especially all those involved with the rave. 

Hating just messes up my immune system, and I want to be better than that.  I did my best until they finally shut it down at midnight. 

Great.  Now I have an hour and a half to sleep before I have to get up for work. 

Monday: I wake up at 2 AM, hit the snooze button a few times, get up, take my shower.  I remind God I will see Him later when I am more fresh and alert.  I gulp my last Diet Mountain Dew.  Our ride arrives on time.

We have to get two deliveries.  One's sandwiches, and one's our soda delivery.  I remind Ron they do bring it to our door, which is great.

The other vendor wanted a cup of coffee, so I attempted to make him one, only to realize the coffee machine grinder was not working.  I prayed about it, figured it out, got it going again, thank you Jesus.

I stocked food and sandwiches while Ron did sodas.  We waited.  And waited some more.

And Dr Pepper finally admitted they wouldn't be making the delivery today.  Great. We could have slept in, because the stupid....

Deep breath.  That's about when I began to giggle and just treat it as a joke.  I mean, when things get that awful, I just have to laugh at it.

I got up at 2 AM, after 2 hour's sleep, for nothing.  I have to laugh at that.  

I don't want to walk around complaining and whining like Ron.  I love him dearly, but I do hate that about him.  I feel like, when we're in public, I'm always telling him to knock it off.

"I signed up for this" I'll say "But the driver didn't.  Have mercy on them, their job's hard enough."  Ron will laugh and stop.

I don't want to be that person, because we all know one.  We all avoid that person.  I want to be liked, I admit it.  I want people to see me as a positive overcomer.

So I went home with Ron.

I did put my foot down about Tuesday.  "I need tomorrow off."  Ron agreed, said it wasn't even a question.

I couldn't wait to go home and crawl into bed... but the yard guy was there.  He worked for about an hour, we paid him. and he went on his way.  The yard looks great.  No one can complain about it, front or back.  He'll be back, thank God. 

Now I could take a nap.  Surprisingly, I only slept 2 hours.

I got up, did my God Time, Ron went to the liquor store (I was tempted to ask him to pick me up some cherry brandy, the few times I did drink I loved the stuff, but I'm not going that route and it would interact even if I did), came home.

Ron called the homeowner's assocation, who liked his idea about writing letters to some politicians.  They're on that.  Good to know they do earn their money without crawling up our butts.  

Oh, thank God that's all over.  


Sunday, October 26, 2014

"I knew it had to be you!"

I think the letter explains the whole thing quite nicely: 
Dear Mr (County Commissioner),

Normally I always vote for the incumbent. Up until tonight, I would have said you were doing a very good job.

I have severe disabilities, yet I still work, getting up at 4 am most days to run my own business. My husband has even more physical problems. He works with me.

I'll reiterate. We get up at 4 AM most days. Being self employed, we have to work weekends, especially during the busy holiday season.

I'm sure you're wondering what this has to do with you.

I found out YOU approved the music festival tonight, the one that is keeping me up - I got up at 4 AM today. I have severe mental illness and brain damage - and I cannot sleep because YOUR festival has loud bass notes all over my home. In my bed, with the noisemaker on. In the front room, and in my computer room.

I live THREE AND A HALF MILES from the race park, sir! I can only imagine the poor folk near the race track.

I bought my house because it was quiet. You, Mr Commissioner, have ruined my peace and quiet tonight. Your festival is keeping me awake. I am coming up on 20 hours awake with mental illness, I have to work tomorrow, and I am very very unhappy.

As I said, I had planned to vote for you, you may not be up for election this time but you will be up for election, and I will NOT be voting for you.

I don't know why you thought it was a good idea to approve an extremely loud festival - one that can be heard three and a half miles away from the epicenter. Thousands of people are being kept awake tonight, because you made this decision.

As a former judge, you may know how hard it is for those with bipolar disorder to manage their illness. Thanks to your decision, I will probably have a horrendous week.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not allow, or permit, any more "music festivals".

I need my sleep, and I pay taxes too. We just sent over a thousand dollars to the State Comptroller.

Sincerely,
Heather Lastname
Registered Voter
Conservative Independent


Here's the fun part: it didn't end until midnight. 

We had planned to go to church, but didn't.  

I slept in as late as possible because I have to get up at 2 AM today.  I woke up rapid cycling (up and down very fast but not together).  

I also shifted the dosing on my mood stabilizers and that helped.  

I got up at 10:30, took my shower, did my God Time.  Rather frustrated at being kept up late three weekends in a row.  

I did some chores and we went to work at 1.  Well, we went outside to wait on work at 1.  They didn't come until almost 2.  

We had made an appointment with a customer, to pay a refund.  She works the night shift.  

She had lost $5, that's a big deal when you're on a tight budget.  

So, we pulled up and a car drove over to us.  It was our customer "I saw the Metrolift and knew it had to be you!"  She was right.  

I teased the driver about taking us home, now.  She didn't.  

We went in and worked for half an hour.  I did pastries and Ron stocked some soda.  We left and had a good ride home.  

I was hungry, so I ate the last of the pizza and took my antipsychotic.  It generally makes me sleep if I lay down.  I got a couple extra hours of sleep.  

I never sleep well on delivery eve, and I just wanted to make sure I had enough charge in my battery.  I woke up when the neighbors came home.  

I'll go back to bed in about 15 minutes. 

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Saturday

Readership is dropping, but since I'm noncommercial it doesn't matter. 

Woke up, depressed.  Did my shower, God Time later.  We went to the warehouse. 

I got a cartload of drinks, and a few snacks.  Snacks have been pretty slow lately.  I had to stock some snickers today but that was about it. 

Everything just felt so hard.  That's the thing I hate most about walking around depressed. 

But, God forbid, if I had accepted disability (payments), I wouldn't "have" to work.  I'd be a wreck.  I doubt I would shower for days. 

I chose not to file for disability when I was diagnosed with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and 15 years later when I was diagnosed bipolar.  One, Ron supports me.  I've always felt those in true need should take disability payments - those completely unable to support themselves, in danger of becoming homeless.  That's my perspective.  I'm not going to tell you what to do even if I had the right.  Two, there's only so much money in the system, so I want to "give" it to those truly in need.   

So, for me, a "stay at home" check would be the worst thing ever.  Working sucks when I'm depressed, because everything is just so mentally hard.  But I need to have work - something to force me out of bed, to get me in the shower, and moving. 

I had no problem unloading the truck, physically.  It was just the thought of doing it.  Then the thought of hours of work after that... made me want to hide under my bed. 

I guess that's a "normal" thing too. 

I got it all done, though.  Since snacks looked OK I mainly focused on the food machines, and helping Ron.  They really love my K-cup kits - a cream and sugar packet, in a cup, with a K-cup for use in the brewer.  It's a lot better tasting and more reliable than the coffee vending machine. 

However, it's a lot of work making up those cups so I did that for a bit.  I also organized the stockroom.  I have a very early morning delivery on Monday morning.  I want to make that as simple as possible. 

I did what I could. 

We had a great ride home.  I hardly sat down in my folding chair (no bus stop at work yet), when the ride arrived.  No drama, just a very nice young man. 

I even managed a nap.  The dog behind us was barking a fair amount but I did get some rest.  They put it up at night, so props on that. 

After I got up I did my God Time.  The party machine at #19 started up, but turned it off after Ron called the police. 

Thank God they did turn it off.  And the police, for coming out. 

Then I did up some Halloween candy, basically a full sized Snickers, a couple mini chocolate bars, some hard candy, gum, taffy, and assorted hard candy.

I did 48, of 150.  I plan to do a third a day. 

Torbie's been cute and adorable.  She's curled up on my desk right in front of my monitor right now. 



Friday, October 24, 2014

End of depression

I feel like I've been stuck in unending depression for a while. 

I know that's not true, I've gotten manic, a day last week, a few days a few weeks before that... but depression kind of eats it all. 

I believe in the rapture.  I believe the rapture is imminent, which, from a very selfish standpoint, means the End of Depression is imminent.  I yearn for that day. 

In the meantime, God doesn't want me hiding.  I know that. 

I keep encountering people who are basically telling me I need to start handing out the candy with scripture booklets, again.  It's just hard to start. 

Ron and I were talking last night.  First, he ordered me 2 pizzas.  He wasn't hungry and has issues with pizza.  So he had me order 2. 

I guess I have breakfast and dinner for a while! 

You know, I told Ron - now that things are a little better - up to low income from poverty, I don't see me taking a lot of indulgences.  But I might just take a cab one way to the Dollar Store tomorrow. 

Ron promptly pulled out his wallet and said "Take it both ways". 

I went to bed, slept pretty well.  I had today off.  I woke up around 8.  I watched Supernatural for a while but I've seen the Leviathan episodes. 

I never did see how they get Dick Roman, though. 

I watched as much as I wanted, took a shower, did my God Time.  I forgot to take my antidepressant.  [facepalm]  Ron called me a cab, and a guy we know picked us up. 

I arrived at the dollar store in a Lincoln Town Car.  I found that pretty funny. 

I went in, looked around, found a few things but not 100% what I wanted.  I went to Arbys.  I forgot I had the pizza.  No way could I eat all those fries - the "medium" appeared to be "half the fryer basket".  I knew Ron would love to eat the cold leftovers - don't I sound awful?  But he loved them. 

I got him a roast beef with cheese and bacon.  He made a horrendous mess eating it but had a good time. 

I, in the meantime, went on to the next dollar store.  I love that about Houston - within walking distance, even depressed. 

I went in and found some interesting things, a few things I needed and some I didn't but got anyway.  I stayed well within budget. 

I even got some "harvest" clings for work, when I take down the Halloween stuff. 

Finished, I went to Starbucks, and got a steamer with pumpkin spice in it.  Pretty good.  No, I don't want coffee.  I hate coffee.  I only like coffee if I'm very manic, or I have to test the coffee machine. 

Mood's finally improving.  That's the thing I hate about meds - and has got me thinking maybe I need to take all the mood stuff in the morning, not the evening. 

Ron called me a cab to come home.  A nice lady picked me up.  Her boyfriend was snoring in the front sleep, and she was playing gangster rap.  We discussed the "N" word and I mentioned how one grandmother disowned me for marrying Ron.  She gaped. 

We had a nice ride home, she got a good tip (they both did) and I dragged my bag in the house.  I sorted it out a little, took all my meds, and took a brief nap. 

Tomorrow is truck day.  I want to be well rested.  I also have the "Life's unpredictable, sleep when you can" perspective, especially since sleep deprivation really aggravates my illness.  [sigh] 

Being sick is a huge part of who I am.  I hate that.  I have to accommodate.  I have to work around.  I have to compromise.  I have to take toxic medications. 

I remember, though, years ago.  I kept having severe abdominal pains.  I had a lot of nausea too.  I would ask for medical help and they'd run some tests, then tell me "You're OK.  Go home". 

I knew I had something that wanted to kill me.  I knew I'd die if I didn't get get help.  Happily, God led me to the right people, who diagnosed me and got me medication. 

Doc finds me a delightful patient because I am very committed to taking my meds.  I mean, really.  I'm a huge, steaming mess on my medication.  Can you imagine me off?  [shudder]  It would end up as breaking news. 

Doc also finds me entertaining because I always seem to be manic for our visits. 

Torbie has just jumped into my lap and onto the computer table.  She's sitting on the mouse tray. 

I asked her if she had used her "Soft and Pretty" because she was. 

She moved in front of the screen and I can't see it.  Night.