A lot about female issues

I didn't get enough sleep this morning, passed on my God Time, and woke up at 3. 

I got a field report from "my" missionary.  Sounds like things are going well "over there". 

Went to work, stocked, and I did a little fall decorating (gourds, changing leaves).  Ron and I went to Walmart.  Well, it took 2 hours total to get to Walmart, from work.  Aagh. 

Ron wanted a new fan, and got it.  He's happy.  I got some soda, I'm happy.  I also got some girl stuff for later. 

Ron asked me if I was curious about the "new" medication that "enables" me to only have 4 cycles a year.  I said, no thanks! 

1.  Birth Control pills, the old ones, were strongly linked to female cancers. 
2.  I don't need to worry about my fertility - Ron is fixed.   He's my only "playmate". 
3.  I don't like "new" drugs; they always seem to develop "serious side effects" and I have enough problems. 
4.  I met a woman, about my age.  She was completely paralyzed on one side.  She had a stroke a few weeks after starting birth control.  And the guy?  He left her.  Now her little boy has to help with the caregiving.  She said she tells every woman she meets to be VERY careful with birth control.  She had no family history of heart attack or stroke. 
5.  I take enough pills, thank you! 
6.  The last thing I need is anything that could cause weight gain. 
7.  I don't put anything in my mouth unless it's absolutely necessary; I don't know how a hormonal drug could affect my illness. 
8.  Money, money, money. 

So, I'll just go along with my regular cycle and buy my girl stuff.  One interesting thing, my cycle has been incredibly regular since my diagnosis.  Maybe regulating the moods also regulated the cycle. 

While I'm on the subject of femininity; when did it become acceptable to show half the breast in everyday wear?  I could put up photos, but I have to assume some of you are men and I don't want to "cause my brother to stumble".  Today, while waiting at Walmart, on our ride, I saw many women walking by, showing half the breast.  99% of the time, it was a BAD look. 

I'm sorry, but a large, DDD flabby, unsupported breast flopping around, 3/4 exposed, in a "sundress" is just a bad look.  It, in my opinion, made the woman look heavier.  Flabby, flopping breast - not a good look. 

Hah.  You can tell I'm no lesbian! 

I noticed that yesterday, when looking at some dresses at a popular department store.  I found two dresses in particular.  Both fit.  Both were a cute style.  One was a blue floral, gauzy over solid, romantic style sundress.  I put it on, over my bra.  You could see half my bra, middle, top, and sides.  NEXT! 

I found a very cute, "professional" style dress.  I would have loved it if I still worked in an office.  It buttoned up the front and had a high collar, cut down the front..... very far.  Again, seeing the bra.  Most of the front, all the way to the bottom band. 

Maybe I'm unrealistic.  I'm not wearing an unusual bra.  It supports the girls and has some padding, something that became necessary as I got bigger.  Guys were... distracted without the padding. 

I am not complaining.  Ron's happy; and I'm well aware many women spend $20K or so to get an increase like mine.  No pain, no surgery, and I have to take the medication anyway for my mental health. 

Modern fashion and modesty -  the paradox.  I don't think I need something like this: 

Although I bet it would be comfortable to wear around the house.  I could check the mail without having to change, or run outside and put up the trash can. 

One of the reasons I plan to go thrifting tomorrow.  I always have fun, even if I don't buy anything. 

Tomorrow I need to talk to Ron, he is asking me to help him buy wine.  This happened before: "See. I'm fine".  And he would be, for a WHILE. 

I ducked the question, and basically implied I might get him some later, if he proves himself.  I need to sit down (preferably in public) and tell him (again) "I will never buy you alcohol, ever, again."  No explanations, no excuses.

He isn't STUPID. 

Absolutely mental

I thought about doing a video blog, but I'm too lazy. 

It was my Day Out, I slept in until 8.  Decided, it was dumb to take a shower, go out in the heat, exert myself, come home, shower again?  Or just take a "birdbath" and a proper bath later.  I've been in the mood for a nice bath, which is absolutely MENTAL considering the heat. 

Anyway, I did that.  I did my God Time; saved the prayer portion of the program for early evening.  I think I'm pretty clear then.  I like what I'm doing with the Bible study. 

So, I got dressed and left the house.  I didn't have any major goals, just a trip to the Dollar store.  Houston, in September, is ripe for hurricanes.  God knows we need the rain.  It seemed prudent to take a little time out of my day to pick up some batteries.  Nothing, to my knowledge, is coming.  But I did think "I wish I had more batteries".  Ron's fan broke, so he is using a battery operated one I gave him years ago.  He loves it, but was almost out of D cells. 

Pretty sure I'm starting to cycle manic, but not bad.  I was interested in shopping, and spent a fair amount of time looking at clothes in a store I never frequent.  I also went to Foodtown, and got plenty of icy cold drinks.  I drank a lot, and I'm still kind of dehydrated and toxic. 

It was more humid today, which made for more oppressive.  However, I had really good bus transfers.  I checked on our vending machine, did Foodtown, looked at the discount clothing store, realized I am fat...got the batteries at the dollar store, and came home. 

I would have LOVED to "go thrifting", but it was just too hot.  My feet hurt, and I had all the junk in my bag.  Ron and I will arrange something later this week.   A favorite thrift store is located right next to a fast food place.  Ron will make a trip to the fast food place.  We can eat, and then I can either shop and come back, or I can send Ron home, and take the bus(es) later.  Ron and I get a meal out, I get an outing, and save a couple of hours in the steam table.  That's how it feels, sometimes. 

Before my diagnosis, I would have gone thrifting, and bought anything that appealed to me, in smaller sizes.  I don't do that now.  I have plenty of skinnier clothes.  I don't intend to stay this size for long, but while I am here I can't run around naked. 

Regarding jury duty; I'm fine.  I have plenty of clothes I can mix and match.  Separates are a good word.  For my everyday life, shorts/jeans and a t-shirt suffice nicely.  I'm more of a sporty type, I'm completely happy running around in something simple.  I also like a pretty dress now and then, and wear them well, but I don't need to dress up. 

As I look at current events, things really seem to be coming right out of the Bible.  Plenty of commentary out there, I won't bore you with a repetition.  But I expect I could be raptured anyday.  I also try to live my life, as though I could be raptured any second, OR live another 60 years.  I could.  I have a great-aunt pushing 92 - fiesty as ever. 

I'm just trying to take care of myself, Ron, Bubba-cat, and our business.   Be a good citizen and a better Christian.  Keep the hating and judgements to a minimum, and repent of it when I do. 

Never forget that I'm praying for you, daily.  (((hugs)))

Not another Rapture blog!

I'm laughing to myself, because I believe after the Rapture, bots will sweep the net, deleting all posts like this one.  They'll be set for keywords like "rapture" and "left behind". 

Anyway, I have to do this for me.  Scoff if you want.  Hotlink it to some hater atheist message board.  I don't care; I still have to write it. 

I'm going to skip over actual definitions.  Here is a link to the rapture.  A lot of good material on the Rapture Ready site. 

Here's a really good link for people who got "left behind".  Oops, I guess I wasn't Rapture Ready

So, we've addressed the immediate spiritual needs.  What about the practical ones? 

First, buy a gun.  I don't own a gun, but you will need to, in order to survive.  I suggest at least one handgun, and one shotgun.  You can carry the handgun, and the shotgun will work for home defense.  I expect you will see a lot of violent home invasions. 

Second, you need to become a survivalist.  The world is going to hell.  You need to prepare.  You have a couple of choices,  raid homes of people who've been raptured; purchase, or barter food and survival items.  Plenty of books on survival, I expect you can do your own research. 

I know some of you, by now, are rolling your eyes and wondering if I'm off my meds.  I'm not.  Speaking of meds, if you are dependent on something for your daily functioning, now is the time to stock up.  Your arithritis medication will probably not be available for long! 

I suggest you team up with other believers (I am assuming you have gotten saved and developed a personal relationship with Jesus by now), in the "Left Behind" series the authors envisoned an underground network of believers, caring for each other.  Be aware you will encounter traitors, though.   The Bible is clear on that. 

Hang in there, don't give up, and don't worship the Antichrist.  Those who do so are headed straight for hell.  At first, the Antichrist is going to look like the best and most wonderful person in the world.  He's not.  He will literally be indwelt by the Devil before the game is up. 

I really pray that everyone I know has been raptured with me.  I would be so happy.  However, if you're not, strap in because you've got a hell of a ride ahead. 

BTW - the only thing that entitles me to salvation is my acceptance of it.  You can't earn your way to salvation; it's a gift, freely given.  Hopefully I'll live up to it. 

Grim thoughts and my "art".

I finished my painting.  "Though He slay me, I will trust in Him". 

I like it.  In my limited experience, most paintings depicting people in hard times, the person looks pretty desperate.  My little figure is calmly praying, at peace regardless of the outcome. 

The important thing, to me, was getting the image out of my head and onto a canvas.  I did that.  I'm happy. 

I needed some happiness.  Things are OK with Ron, no major dramas.  Just lousy sales, a lot of expenses, and a rude clerk at the store today re: my backpack.  Really?  I fit the profile of a shoplifter?  AGH. 

I will probably validate everything you thought about the mentally ill when I say I've spent some time recently just crying over the state of the world.  Things are so screwed up. 

I know many readers, maybe even most, don't believe as I do.  I accept that.  It greieves me because I worry about your soul, what will happen when you die.  I really worry about the Rapture.  If you think things are bad now, you have no idea.  They're going to get a lot worse.  I need to do another rapture blog. 

One thing you can take to the bank, I don't believe I have some kind of tally of "souls saved" on my record.  I just want people to experience God the way I do.  That drives everything I do, pretty much. 

I have a pretty good life, as things go.  I have running water from a tap, electricity, climate control (and a husband freaking about the bills).  I have a husband.  I have a safe and secure neighborhood.  I have a healthy cat, a comfortable bed, food to eat, and a nice little home and yard.  I have my own business, sales are bad but we have it.  I have the ability to go out and get another job.   I have internet access, a television, and a nice little MP3 player loaded with my favorite music. 

I just look around at the world and I'm sick at heart.  People worship everything BUT God; money, power, prestige...I see a planet full of people, so absolutely convinced they can save themselves.  Ha.  We're a pack of rodents, biting and clawing each other on our way to the top.  "I love you".  Oh, it's too hard to love you.  Never mind.  "I don't love you anymore, I love him instead."  And then "he" fails.  Or people spend their whole lives focused on pleasing someone else, never taking the time or care for themselves (yes, I fall in this category).   Maybe they cut themselves off from everyone and retreat beyond a wall. 

Self-sacrifice is just a lovely concept, explored in the disaster movie as one man sacrifices himself for the whole planet.  But wait, that sounds awfully familiar.  Because Someone already did that. 

Him?  Oh, He can go to hell, like the rest of the world. 

Grim thoughts.  I know He's always with me. 

I worry like hell about the unreached.  I cry.  I wish I could give you my faith. 

Happy Meal

Ugh.  So.  Groggy. 

As soon as I could eat, I ate and took my lithium.  I figure, the antidepressant could wait, because I ALWAYS get a headache after taking it.  However, I would rather have a daily headache, than a crippling depression. 

However, today at least, I don't want another migraine.  Yesterday's migraine didn't start off too badly, but it progressed.  Towards the end, when I had stuck the phenergan up the unmentionable; my head actually felt OK.  For some reason phenergan works on my migraines.  Last night, not so much on the vomiting. 

 I couldn't stop vomiting.  Once I got down to vomiting straight bile, I seemed to be OK.  What a horrible taste.  [shudder]  I have a whole technique: sit on the edge of the bed, 5 gallon bucket between my legs.  Hunch over bucket.  Rest right arm across the top of bucket to provide head rest.  My poor bucket needs a good cleaning today. 

Today, Ron wanted to run several errands.  We went to Walmart and got his watch fixed.  It needed a new battery.  I picked up some gentle foods (sugarfree oatmeal, etc).  Ron got his usual processed junk.  I didn't have much appetite. 

When I did, I ate and took my lithium.  We had a really wierd lady riding in the vehicle when we got picked up.  She had STUFFED the back of the cab with boxes (waaaay over the limit), and kept making comments like "I know your pass number now, because you said it out loud!  Now I can ride around on your pass!"  I told her, yeah, and then you will lose your service.  Good luck getting it back.  Metrolift hates people who cheat and lie. 

The pass is issued to a certain person, and is not transferrable.  I almost hope she does try it.  She kept getting "Up in our business" with a lot of incredibly intrusive questions, too.  I was glad to get out of there. 

We had a pretty good ride to the bank.  I have a policy now, if we get picked up at Walmart, buy the driver a Happy Meal.  They love it.  They always want to see the toy. 

So, we did that and the guy told us he would be eating his happy meal, on his lunch, which he'd get after dropping us off.   Ron needed to put a little cash in the personal account, so we did that.  Not a bad wait on that, and then off to Foodtown.  I should add, during all this I am toting around the stuff we got at Walmart, and an insulated tote bag. 

We went to Foodtown, I left Ron and the stuff up front and did my shopping.  He didn't want anything, I mainly got soda and some instant drink mix.  Oh, and Powerade Zero. 

I almost wept with joy as I drank my beloved diet Fruit Punch, once I "got a taste for it".  If I wait until then, I can always tolerate it.  I swore I'd get more; and I did. 

Now off to catch up on my God Time. 

"Chew on"

Boy, do I feel like crap.  Yesterday I woke up with a migraine, and it's yet to depart. 

Ron was annoyed we couldn't go run errands.  I was too busy vomiting in my bucket to argue.  I did find it very amusing when he said "When you feel better go take the bus (3 buses, minimum 3 hours waiting in the hot sun) and go fix my watch at Walmart, OK?"  I told him that would not be happening, and I believe I vomited again.   

I don't know what it is, with him and talking watches.  He buys them.  The batteries die.  He tries to replace them.  He goes to mall jewelers in "Cracktown" - who refuse to change out batteries.  He tries to get me to do it.  Then he buys another one, and breaks it.  It's an endless saga with Ron. 

I suggested he go to Walmart by himself, but he rejected it out of hand.  I don't see why not.  The greeter would call for a helper, who could take Ron and do the shopping.  I'm not exclusive; it's not like I am the only one who can help him shop.

Ron was mostly quiet, letting me rest.  I did get very annoyed at him; he kept bringing food past my bedroom and the smell would make me vomit.  I'll have to talk to Ron about that. 

His whole theory with vomiting "The stomach is annoyed because it doesn't have any food to 'chew on'.    You have to eat, and give the stomach something to 'chew on', or it will 'chew itself' and make you vomit."  I have told him, again and again, I don't care what YOU do, but I cannot eat until I get an appetite back.  If that means I fast for a couple days, so be it. 

Ron used to be so demanding, pushing his theory, he would force me to eat.  I would vomit again, and he'd say "See, you waited too long to eat."  I finally had a lightbulb moment in 2001 and flatly refused to eat when nauseous.  Anyway, he kept telling me I had to eat...blah, blah... I kept telling him no, no, no. 

I woke up last night desperately craving some sugarfree fruit punch.  I made up a batch and I was able to hold that down.  I sipped on that all night as I'd wake up.  I still have an evil headache, but I think I'll live. 

I don't know what I wanted from Ron yesterday, but I didn't feel like I got it. 

The strange face I don't know

Ugh.  Today was loooong. 

I woke up at 1AM, could NOT go back to sleep.  My feet kept hurting, too.  I need to do some research on that. 

Anyway, time to reduce the antidepressant, as directed, so I can sleep at night.  I can't take 2 tablets for very long. 

Woke up, I was so tired I slept through Ron's bath.  I took my shower and kept wondering why the tub was damp, until Ron told me he'd already done his bath. 

It is easier for Ron to take a bath, than to take a shower.  The shower is painful for him, the bath, less so.  If I could get an awesome bathroom fixup I would put in a few grab bars for Ron. 

We went to the warehouse, and to work.  Sales are grim. 

We left work, and Chuck met us.  He dropped me at DPS to renew my ID card.  I had a good book, about 400 pages long.  I read about 250 while I waited. 

No eating or drinking, which meant no Dr Pepper.  Horrible. 

I'm not sure which was worse, being asked my REAL weight, or being told to remove my glasses for the photo.  If I'm awake, I'm wearing my glasses (unless I am in the shower).  Why make me take them off?  If an officer wanted to ID me he would have to have me take my glasses off... I don't get it. 

Anyway, I was handed a piece of paper, with a photo of some stranger... glasses are a part of my face... or were...

Ron and Chuck had gone out to eat, and lingered at a Denny's gossiping while I spent my time at the office.  A good idea, I think.  $16 poorer, they picked me up. 

They took me out to eat, and I had a good, horribly carby, meal.  We came home.  I finished the last couple chapters of my book.  Now I'm just relaxing. 

Ron says we get tomorrow off - and really - to stock what?  [laugh]  So, we're going to run a few errands. 

And, sometime in the next week or two, I'll get my new ID card.  With that strange face, I don't know. 

Video Blog

It won't be long now

Non included in the video blog:

Last night I had a nightmare.  I was stuck in a concentration camp (life).  I was being tortured.  I was begging God to save me. 

Then, Ron calls me.  Tells me an earthquake hit DC. 

I felt like God was telling me, He knows I'm huring, hang in there, it won't be long now. 

Now's a good time to ask if you have a kit.  If you don't, you should.  Disaster will come regardless, and I am sick of people "joking"ly telling me they're just coming to my house. 

Disaster Kit list

We'll take it.

My foundation (well, the foundation of my home) is settling.  I need to water it on a regular basis.  It's OK, for NOW, but I need to keep it that way. 

On the one hand it makes perfect sense, for a woman who once considered a major in horticulture.  Of course I need to water my house to keep it healthy and strong. 

On the other, I just have to gape and scratch my head, at all the various things homes need.  Ron's feeling pretty destitute; the broken pipe repair took a week out of his monthly budget. 

Now, I'm taking a moment here to thank God that's all it cost.  I have heard HORRIFIC stories. 

I don't feel as targeted, either, as I hear countless stories of broken underground pipes, everywhere, not just my home. 

The repair left a hole, partially filled.  I have a trash can full of soil in the garage, I dug it up for my garden in 2005, put it in the can, and then realized the trash guys would NEVER take a can of "dirt".  So, in typical manic fashion, I put it in the garage, to help fill in a hole that wouldn't be dug for 6 years. 

Tonight I finally had the energy to excavate a 5 gallon bucket full of clumps, and put that in the hole.  I'll do another bucket tomorrow, and so forth until the hole is full and the can is empty.  Ron's happy.  That can really bothered him.  The hole, bothers me.  I guess on some level filling it means I can forget it. 

So, we got up early.  Went to work.  Stocked.  We had to raise candy bar prices to 90 cents each.  I don't feel very bad about it, as I have 4 different cookie packs available for 20 cents.  Our food cost was horrific. 

Since I'm linked to my Facebook, and I am a member of a work group, I won't share the wholesale cost.   We did manage to drop the food cost percentage by 8%.  We'll take it. 

After work we went to the wholesale warehouse.  Ron needed bottled soda.  We got that.  We also got some lunch, I ate, and took a lithium. 

I've been pretty groggy today, but the depression is off roaring in the basement.  Where it belongs.  When we got home I took a nap. 

Well, I tried.  An old friend of Ron's called, but I was so tired I fell asleep in spite of the talking (Ron apologized later).   I woke up a few hours later. 

That is the nice thing about Wellbutrin vs. SSRI.  With the SSRI's I needed a FOUR hour nap every day, and was always tired.  With the Wellbutrin, I don't need a nap, but if I take it I only need an hour, or two tops.  I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall asleep again, so I needed 2 hours or so. 

While I was asleep, Ron went to the liquor store and bought more wine boxes.  Hm.

Ron was eating a food item we picked up yesterday.  He kept raving about it.  I told him, "If I worked there I could bring you one every day.  They seem to hire pretty often."  He actually agreed, he'd be fine with me working there.  I found that very encouraging. 

I understand a lot of it is male pride and the desire to be a good provider, but I would hate to lose the house because Ron wouldn't "let" me get another job.  For now, I am focusing on doing my jury duty, celebrating my birthday next month, and Mom and Dad's visit in October. 

We saw the kitten this morning, but not today.  I hope he's OK.  Ron and I really miss him. 

Better than that

I should start off by saying I'm in my happier, medicated place right now. 

It's true, you know. 

"As a mood stabilizer, lithium is probably more effective in preventing mania than depression, and may reduce the risk of suicide in certain bipolar patients"  (source, Wikipedia)

For me, absolutely.  The last time I had a depression this bad, I made some very dark plans.  I feel like all I did today was fight depression; and it was an ugly battle. 

Sure I did some laundry, trying to organize, cleaned all Ron's fingermarks off the walls (he uses the walls to hold himself up as he walks), and had some cuddle time with the cats.  Mainly, though I grapped with a lot of anxiety and despair. 

I am worn out, and it's not all my medication.  [shudder]  I hope tomorrow is better than that! 

Acting like a resident

I've come to the conclusion: I don't really "own" my house.  Mentally, I'm always expecting the worst case, planning for disaster.  I've always planned mentally for having to move out, losing the house, something breaking on the house and repairing it, but never really relaxed into it and said "This is my house". 

As a result, I feel more like a renter than an owner.  One facing eviction on a daily basis. 

These days, I just have an incredible sense of pressure.  Financial concerns are major; we can barely afford to live in the house.  Marital pressures: Ron is stressed out due to finances, on top of what I believe are existing depression and alcohol problems.  Finally got it, mostly, through his head: no verbal abuse. 

I agree with those of you who say Ron doesn't want me getting another job because he fears me leaving him.  I think that's a factor.  He also told me the worst time of his life, was watching me go off to work every day while he sat at home.  He could hear all the cars starting up and going to to work, and he just sat at home while *I* worked.  It was awful for him.  I believe, for him, it WOULD be a last resort. 

I get anxious about everything; what if the cat gets sick.  What if I get sick.  What if we lose the house and/or business?  What if Ron loses his disability check?  It wouldn't be hard to make myself crazy!  I have a terrible time battling all this. 

I guess, on some level, I don't want to get too attached to the house.  If I really love it, I really own it, I'll have to leave it.  I compare my home to my aunt's and come up very short. 

I just did an incredibly invasive property tax records search, and their home is worth about 2.5 mine.  It's a lovely home, in a lovely, quiet, neighborhood.  It is loved, and lived in. 

I feel like I just cower in my house like some kind of criminal, waiting for someone to drag me out and throw me into the gutter.  On the one hand, I feel like, God gave me the house.  It was pretty clear.  I should act like I own it, paint a wall or something. 

On the other hand, the way things are, I wonder when we'll lose it, not if. 

This was supposed to be a nice break from housework, to cheer me up.  I don't think I did a very good job of that. 

I'm just grappling with that; home OWNership, versus acting like a resident. 

Onto happier thoughts, Ron took me to Starbucks this morning.  We had a nice time.  He discovered his Starbucks card, after paying, still had a $30 credit.  He was thrilled.  I can't remember the last time we charged his card, or went to Starbucks, for that matter. 

Bubba is not happy with the kitten, so for now we are keeping the kitten outside.  Lucky (the little guy) hasn't figured out the cat door, so Bubba has free run of the house.   Ron and I really like the little guy, so we'll see how he works out.  I know black cats have lousy adoption rates (50% of the rate of other colors), so I'm willing to make some changes.  WITHOUT discommodating my Bubba, the Alpha cat. 

I should add, as my final thought, I believe in the rapture, and the way things are going I assume it could happen any day.  I hope and pray it does... the way things are going, I suspect all believers are screaming for Him to "hurry up". 

Ron just walked by, carrying a cup of wine.  "See, I'm fine." 

Hurry up, Lord. 

Another glass of wine

Ron woke up.  Wanted to know how I was doing.  "Depressed".  He asked what he could do, I said a hug, maybe.  So, he gave me a hug. 

Then he went into trip-planner mode.  What did we need to do? 

I told him I thought it would be easier if I made my own trip to DPS (I have an expired ID card).  He said, no, he'd work it in... letting me know non verbally it was just a HUGE burden on him.  I said, forget it, I'll do it myself. 

Then he started interrogating me why I HAD to do it in person.  Well, excuse me.  My thing expired, and they used to renew it online for 2 years.  Now they only renew it online for a year.  I didn't even get a chance to finish before he is nagging me and telling me I HAVE to tell him the expiration date on the new card. 

I said, I doubted we'd be here anyway (with current events).  I still HAD to tell him, he demanded. 

I said FORGET IT, I am getting it myself.  He took offense at my "attitude". 

I told him, look, I asked you for help, you said no. Fine.  But I don't need a lecture on top of that!  I'm getting my new ID card, on my own, without his help, so what does he care? 

UGH. 

Then he served himself another glass of wine and stomped off to his room. 

Metro Bus is being wierd about the trip planning, I can only plan trips for today, which I'm obviously not.   But it looks to be pretty easy, just a couple of buses. 

Hopeless Despair

During my last mania, I thought to myself "My depressions aren't so bad".  Boy.   Was I wrong. 

A pretty horrible depression, ongoing.  Turns out the kitten kept waking me up.  What is it with creatures waking me up all night? 

I put him outside, Bubba-cat had been objecting to his presence, also.  Bubba got in my lap once, in January, when I was depressed.  The little guy would be happy to live in my lap.  They need to sort all that out before Junior moves in.  In the meantime, I am feeding him and watering him.  He seems very happy.  I snuck out earlier and got a cuddle, but was caught in the act by Bubba, who protested. 

Worst case, we will re-home him.  He is such a charmer I don't see a problem getting him a "Forever Home". 

After our pipe broke last week, I was obsessing about it and why us, would it happen again?  God let me know, many different ways, "Heather, this happens during a severe drought and heatwave".  Just today, I saw a broken pipe in our neighborhood, and one while riding through another.  I am watering the foundation with a soaker hose, as suggested by my next-door-neighbor, the contractor.  He's the one who turned off our water. 

In the meantime, I'm just trying to live one hour at a time.  I am maxed out on medication, maximum doses on everything. 

I was thinking today, as I stocked our machines.  I thought, "You know, whenever I had this level of depression before medication I was obsessed with Bad Thoughts.  Now, at least, I don't think about harming myself.  I 'only' feel hopeless depsair." 

I know God can use this for good, if I just hang in there and take care of myself. 

We're calling him Lucky.

Today got off to an odd start.  Bubba brought us another cat. 

You may recall, 7 years ago, he brought Frosty to come live with us.  Frosty was a great fit, and had a wonderful life until his "graduation" in 2009. 

When I got home from the vet with my empty cat carrier, I promised Bubby I WOULD NOT get another cat.  "If you want another cat, YOU bring it."  I told him.  "Otherwise I'll assume you want to be an only cat." 

Perhaps it was my embraces yesterday, so delighted to see him.  Bubba isn't a cuddler.  Perhaps, the fact that I was away for a while enabled Bubba to find a new friend... but this morning Bubba presented us with a miniature version of himself, a shorthaired, solid black, male, cat with green eyes. 

Bubba tolerates him, the little guy is incredibly affectionate, well mannered, all in all a great little cat.  I've always thought it would be cool to have two black cats, and they are identical (except for size).  So, for now, I have another cat. 

I'm not a huge fan of kittens but he's got good manners and isn't too hyper.  He's eaten quite a bit, used the box a few times, and slept.  That's not counting the cuddles. 

Ron likes him, and likes the name "Lucky".  So, we're calling him Lucky.  As in "Lucky Bubba found you and brought you home" and also a play on the old black-cats-are-unlucky. 

Boy, I got whacked with depression today.  It was horrible.  Even the kitten couldn't cheer me up.  I finally whacked it with medication but it was a brutal battle. 

First off, we went to the warehouse and got supplies for work.  Brought them home.  Went to Walmart.  Got kitten food (both cats love it), diet soda, and a soaker hose.  I needed it for the foundation.  It's starting to settle. 

I just turned it off, it worked very well.   The ground at the foundation is now nice and moist.  Yay.  The last thing we need is a cracked slab. 

Since it was tax free weekend, I also got some underwear.  Mainly, it was the hose and some cat supplies, and some 5-gallon buckets for the disaster kit.  If the drought gets much worse, I can catch the water from my shower, put it in the buckes, and pour it on plants. 

I noticed milk had gone up to $3.50 a gallon, I'm not suprised.  I bet it gets even more expensive. 

Oooh.  The power almost went out.  I guess the system is overloaded.  It has been hellish, and looks to continue. 

So, that's it for now.  I'll get some photos up soon. 

Yes I went back home

Blogger just told me my blog is popular, would I like to make some money?  I said no thanks.  I figure you, reader, have enough spam in your life without finding it here.  Speaking of canned meat, I do have a "funny" later. 

Sorry to leave you hanging, but I figured it would be stupid and redundant to take a break from Ron, only to post about him. 

So, I went to my aunt's.  I stayed with them (I have an uncle, too) after the last time .  She was happy to have me.

My aunt is a great hostess.  She came and got me after work, and we went to her house.  We had lunch and I took a nap.  When I got up, I felt a lot more human, less of an anxiety-ridden hag.  She has a very welcoming home. 

I told them I had to be back to my life on Thursday morning.  That seemed fine with them, and Ron. 

Ron talked to my uncle, and swore he is not drinking ANY hard stuff. 

I am very annoyed.  Ron had repeatedly sworn he was "only" drinking wine; on many occasions, and now tells me he was drinking vodka.  He didn't think "One mouthful" would matter, or count as drinking.   He flatly told me, Monday morning, he had NEVER had "just wine". 

You can imagine, I was pissed.  I was really happy I was getting away after that. 

Ron had made a big production of pouring out all the vodka.  He swears he will not buy any more.  He swore to my uncle he would not be buying or drinking any "hard stuff". 

My aunt, like me, is an optimist, told me "Well, that's great.  After the last visit, he gave up the everclear, now he is giving up the vodka, maybe next time he will give it up alltogether!" 

My uncle (Ron does not respect many men, my uncle is one of the few), got Ron to commit to only-wine-and-not-to-the-point-of-blackouts.  He got me to agree to a few things,
1.  Call him if Ron drinks anything other than wine. 
2.  Call him if Ron has a blackout.  I told my uncle I would video it as well. 
3  Call them and update regularly.  They were both distressed I had not let them know about the situation sooner. 

I decided, quite appropriately I think, to focus on having fun and not to think, talk, or type about Ron any more than possible.  How many thousands of words has he gotten?  That left YOU hanging, but I think it was the right call for me. 

I focused on having fun, I think you would be proud of me:
1.  Went to Walmart and got a new pair of jeans.  I also got myself a little coffee maker that uses the single bags. 
2.  Went to Academy and got my flashlight headband thing, which was alarmingly on clearance.  I also got myself a $2 keychain flashlight.  It was on clearance too.  I really liked it, but not at $5.  I did like it at $2. 
3.  Went to Whole Foods, and bought some lovely soap, and gluten free pancake mix.  I love pancakes.  Now I can eat them without getting hivey. 
4.  Slept in as late as I could, without getting a headache. 
5.  Made friends with my aunt's cat - kitty is VERY timid.  Party Mix cat treats are great for an icebreaker. 
6. Went to Dollar tree, and got my aunt a few little things. 
7.  Ate bad things, including a pint of Ben & Jerry's. 
8.  Ate my aunt's excellent homecooked food. 
9.  Slept great. 
10.  Read a great  book  - I brought my Kindle. 

When I got home Ron was happy to see me, told me he had a good time.  He told us (my aunt and I) how much he enjoyed taking a bath at 3 AM, one night.  The house was clean, none of the chaos that ensues from a blackout. 

The floor was not clean, but Ron had clearly "Dropped some Pizza" as he walked back to his room. 

I missed my cat terribly.  I could at least see a cat, if not pet her (she is timid).  She liked the cat treats.  My cat kept going to Ron for petting.  Ron wanted to give him a treat one night, and opened up a can of "cat food". 

Not.  Quite.  Cat food.  However, the cat loved it and ate quite a bit.  Amazingly, it did not make him sick.  When I came home, [break to pet cat, who just came up]  I called him and he came running.  I picked him up, hugged him, and kissed him as he sniffed my nose.  When I went to check the mail, he came with me, trotting along at my side. 

Then Ron and I went to work.  We need more supplies, so we can stock.  We did what we could, today. 

We had 2 horrible rides on Metrolift.  I sure didn't miss the drama. 

When we got home, I took a nap.  He let me sleep. 

Bubba cat is eating his can of Fancy Feast Tender Beef, NOT chicken spread.  He is happy.  I need to eat and take my pills, and do my God Time. 

I also plan to take a nice hot bath. 

Respite Rescue

Another bad night, no mess thank God but a lot of racket.  I was happy to get up, and "Did I let you sleep, no you didn't" segued nicely into "So I am going to stay with my aunt for a couple of days."  He immediately understood, and made a dramatic production of pouring out the vodka. 

Everything, is the fault of the vodka.  O-kay. 

We went to work.  Sales are terrible, and I did all the stocking.  I certainly FEEL fine leaving the machines for a few days. 

After work, Ron went home on Metrolift while I went home with my aunt.  We got a quick meal and I had a fanstastic nap.  I didn't get a good God Time this morning. 

By the way, it was very funny choosing my favorite "children" (devotional and Bible study books) to come along.  I have a whole sack. 

So, I got up, me and the incense went out and had a good time on the patio.  I have a lot of peace. 

If nothing else, I can catch up on some much needed sleep.  Ron will have some quiet time to think. 

He told me, he knows I will leave him if this continues. 

Time to pack

Anxiety is pretty bad today.  Sleep deprivation plus excedrin.  I'm worrying about everything in the world. 

I will not be taking exedrin when I am sleep deprived.  I just pray to God I get some kind of sleep tonight. 

Time to pack my bag. 

Not a happy place

Well, it's getting worse.  Ron's drinking.  Still waking me up, every couple of hours, every night.  I was thinking last night, that would be fine if he were a newborn infant, but he's not. 

Still very defensive and angry about the drinking.  As he sat in the midst of yet another "haz-mat" style mess, he belligerently informed me "The vodka is the only thing that helps with the emotional pain".  I will give him credit for "trying" to clean it up. 

To him, harming me is irrelevant.  I just have to endure this so he can feel "better". 

You can imagine my thoughts, lying in bed.  Dark, bitter, angry thoughts.  Resentment.  I am not looking forward to giving up a pretty good life (once you subtract the drinking and verbal abuse), and leaping off into the great unknown.  Job hunting in a DREADFUL economy, trying to find some kind of stable work and a decent, all-bills paid, apartment. 

So, I sent my family a letter, and my aunt a text message asking for a pickup.  She is delighted to have me stay for a few days.  Good. 

I need to get out of here.  I have a LOT of anger at Ron right now.  Add that to sleep deprivation and it's not a happy place. 

I will go to work tomorrow, do my duties, and then my aunt will pick me up.  Work will be fine for days after that. 

The letter

Well, a rather distressing night and morning.  More blackouts, more excuses from Ron. 

My favorite was asking me to fix him breakfast.  I did.  Later on he yelled at me for "forcing food on me and waking me up".  WHAT?   "You shouldn't wake me up, I need my sleep". 

I was not pleased.  I used the word "Hypocrite".  I was very angry that he wanted something he refused to give me (a night of sleep).  I threatened, and I may do it, to wake him up repeatedly, when HE is trying to sleep, if he has kept me up all night. 

I finally decided to write him a letter.  He was very upset I wouldn't "help" him with the drinking, and I kept telling him "I can't do that, only you can help yourself, by choosing not to drink".  That was not well recieved. 

I did some research on intervention letters and followed the basic formula.   I think. 

Anyway, letter: 
Dear Ron,


I love you very much. I have always been attracted to your intelligence, your strong work ethic, your compassion, and your generosity...

I am very worried about you. I see you drinking every night of the year. I hear you falling down. I see you are hurting yourself physically, when you drink. When I go to bed, I wonder how many times you will wake me up...When you are not drinking, you are groggy and all you want to do is sleep, until you can drink again. When I try to talk about this you shout at me and call me horrible names. I miss the man you used to be. I don't know this new man.

I want my husband back.... I want you to know how I feel. I love you and I will stand by you though this, as long as I can, but if my physical or mental health is threatened I will have to leave. I am very tired of you calling me names, because I refuse to "help" you drink.

... I will go about my business and live the best life I can. I would like you to be there with me, as I do.
 
[edited out some personal parts]  He drank a glass of wine while I read it to him.  I think he was very surprised at the overall tone.  I did my best not to come off condemning, shrieky, or judgemental. 
 
I reminded him how he felt before I started taking my medication.  I told him, you felt frustrated, fed up, and angry.  You were ready to leave me.  That is how I feel..
 
He told me he couldn't help the blackouts.  I had to get up, go to him, and tell him he was having a blackout.  Then I had to order him to bed.  I refused. 
 
I told him, in many different ways, I cannot interact with you when you are having a blackout.  You get violent if I talk to you.  He refuses to believe it.  I just need to stand "away" from him and he won't hurt me.  I said, you ALSO verbally abuse me.  I will not subject myself to that.  "I've never done that"  - no you don't remember it. 
 
So, he sees it as "Nothing is my fault now, because Heather has refused to help me".  Any behavior, as far as he's concerned, that results from his drinking is now "my" fault.   He has basically told me he is going to drink, and I can "help him manage it" or not. 
 
I know better than to "help".  [sigh]  It's just a huge burden on me.  He has it so twisted up in his head, that he has a "right" to drink, I am a bitch for saying anything against it, he wants to just "tune out of life" every minute of the day.  I can't compete with that. 
 
So it comes back to "I'm going to have to move out eventually".  
 
Like I don't have enough problems, now I have to go look for another job. 

Has a problem

This is going to sound terrible: I wish Ron would hit bottom already and stop drinking.  Or, at the very least, ACCEPT he HAS A PROBLEM. 

Yesterday was OK.  We got up, went to the warehouse, got supplies for work, stocked them, did the pull, I got paid, went home.  I even got a nap, which came in handy later. 

I also started my cycle.  Whoo.  Killer Kramps.  I told Ron, it is funny, I am so consistent now.  From my recollection, before my diagnosis my cycle wavered a lot.  Now, it is very regular and consistent.  Interesting. 

Ron is worried about some financial things, but insists he does not want me getting another job.  I think it is the old-fashioned "I want to be the provider" thinking. 

I went to bed pretty early, but Ron kept waking me up.  Another blackout.  He likes to eat a lot when he is having a blackout.  He fixed himself 3 cup of noodles, and a TV dinner last night.  The smell of the food woke me up, (and the racket), and I actually got up and took some tylenol for the cramps.  I figured, well, in that regard he did my a favor because they were pretty bad. 

This morning, I woke up.  Ron was lying in bed.  I sat down next to him and he started talking, asking me to fix him some breakfast.  Sure, why not?  Yelling at him just plays into the whole "alcoholic" game. 

I fixed the food, brought it to him, and he ate.  We chatted off and on for a couple of hours. 

I had planned to make a day out, but a loose, vicious, dog kind of put the brakes on that.  I am not going out with a vicious dog running around.  It seemed to be running wild.  Probably a "pet" that got out.  Hurry up and catch it, already, and confine it more securely. 

About this time Ron says "I was OK with it this morning, but you need to stop waking me up.  I didn't appreciate you waking me up to feed me."  WHAT? 

I told him, Ron, you asked me to cook for you.  "Well, I don't remember that.  My sleep is very important to me.  You need to respect that." 

You can imagine how I reacted, having just had MY sleep disrespected half the nights of the week, just this week.  I called him a hypocrite. 

He said it wasn't his fault, he "had a leg cramp and had to drink some vodka to make it go away".  He "wasn't responsible" for it.  I told him, then I wouldn't be "responsible" for waking him up, in fact, maybe if he kept me up the night before, I would wake up up repeatedly the next day! 

I wouldn't do that, but I won't dismiss the concept, either.   I may have to do just that.  Stupid. 

He then came up with a great idea.  If he is having a blackout, I need to get out of bed, stand "very far away" (see October 2007 for THAT reason), and loudly tell him he is having a blackout and order him back to bed.  I told him, Ron, I am not responsible for your drinking.  YOU need to be responsible for your drinking.  It is not my job to help you manage the drinking, it is your job. 

He got very upset because "I won't help him".  I think AA would agree, that is not "help" at all.  It's blame shifting. 

AAAGH.  I just wish he would "fall" as he puts it, realize the depth of his problem, and seek help.  This "I am in denial and I don't have a problem" makes it very hard to respect him. 

Video Blog

I also wanted to add, if you see anything desirable in my life, it's a direct product of my faith. 

Some humor...

Bubba "helps" with the plumbing. 

Ice Cold Water

I'm upset to the point of tears, and for once Ron isn't involved. 

I slept in until about 7.  Decided to have a nice little Day Out.  Did a pretty good job of it, for a while. 

Depression is barking at the door again.  I need to be vigilant. 

So, I went to the grocery store.  Got a cold canned soda, plus another.  Gave one to a lady at the bus stop.  :)  I want to treat everyone like they're Jesus.  Happy I did. 

Went to the Christian bookstore, asked for more prayer, and gave them an update. 

As I was leaving, I had a lot of trouble with the headphones on my MP3 player.  I carry a very basic, $20, model.  Overall it is good, and not anything a thug would want.  It works for my purposes, and I like the pretty red color. 

I carry it in a "hang around the neck" case.  I also carry my cell phone in a holder I made (works, too), my keys, I have a lot of junk around my neck.  I didn't have any volume on my headphones, AND everything was tangled again. 

I found a bench and sat down, right as my cell phone rang; Mom and Dad ringtone.  I didn't call them last week, because I assumed they were out of town.  They called me, instead.  We talked for about half an hour. 

Then I went to the craft store.  They were clearing out the "Ceramcoat" paint, and selling a 2 ounce bottle for a quarter.  I got some bottles for projects I needed (about 8). 

I went out to the bus stop and roasted like a vegetable, for quite a while.  A nice young man in an SUV offered me a ride.  That was sweet; especially since I was obviously sweaty.  I said no, thanks, the bus should be along any minute. 

That seems to be a gracious refusal, everyone says "OK!" smiles, and drives off.  We all know, don't we, that you NEVER ever get into a car with a stranger. 

So, the bus came.  I got off and went to my transfer point. 

Imagine my joy (after hours in the sun with a heat index of over 100 F)  when I saw the Ice Cold Water guy.   Someone sets them up at all the busy intersections.  They roam the median, selling "ice cold water" to motorists and pedestrians.  And fat ladies, waiting at the bus stop! 

I gave him a quarter tip, too!  Oh, it was so delicious.  I thanked God for him.  He seemed to be doing a fairly brisk business, and I wish him prosperity. 

Yay!  There's the bus, but the Air Conditioner is broken!  It was very stuffy.  I was happy to depart. 

Then the walk home from the bus stop (I often dream of it, but I do not live right next to the bus stop).  Hey, I needed the exercise, and my bag was light because I had consumed all the Diet Dr Pepper and the Ice Cold Water, by then. 

I came home, and found a pink note on the door.  The water meter reader had come by.  We used 47K gallons of water. 

WHAT?  According to the cryptic note, we had a break "On House Line".

I checked the meter.  I could HEAR the water hissing, the ground was very moist, and boy the numbers were spinning! 

"Contact a plumber immediately"   No @#$! 

I lost it for a while.  I was pretty upset.  I kept trying, and failing, to turn the water off.  So there I am, hunched over the hole in the ground, my butt waving in the air, cursing and pleading with God.  Going in the house and getting rather shrill with Ron.  "We have to DO SOMETHING!" 

First: I cried.  Repeatedly. 
Second: I called my aunt. 

I figured, the water had to turn off, so I took my shower and ran the washer.  Then I filled up my water bucket. 

Happily, the contractor neighbor came home.  Thank you Jesus.  I went over there; I'm sure I looked distraught.  He was DELIGHTED to turn off the water.  Good, at least we are not actively losing money. 

Ron's handyman came out.  He is working right now.  I am making sure to keep him supplied with plenty of Ice Cold Water, and Dr Peppers. 

What a day. 

Run Away

The laws of common decently state I can't tell you what Ron did to the bathroom last night and this morning; although I did share it on a secret Facebook group.  [twitch]  Three times, he did this. 

Apparently, I have to look before I sit down, or win myself a shower with the antibacterial soap.  This is the kind of awful-life post that will probably get a few hits. 

"I thought I had it bad."  Oh, it's very frustrating. 

I just want to go to bed and sleep, you know?  I don't want to have to listen to all the drama of a drunken cripple falling, getting up, fixing himself snacks, and making those horrible grunting noises that mean "Get ready for a big surprise!"  I just want to go in the bathroom without looking and sit down. 

I want to go to work with a man who is sober, wearing clean clothes, and smelling of soap instead of alcohol.  One who doesn't curse me when I suggest he take a bath and put on some clean pants, and let me put a bandaid on your head there. 

No, I got a very belligerent, staggering, slurring, man who stunk of alcohol and had a huge, bloody, knot on his head.  I got the man who publicly mocks my faith, called me horrible names in addition to that, and had a temper tantrum because I wouldn't stop work to get him a hot dog out of the vending machine. 

I mean, I have to wonder, is he TRYING to run me off?  I think, one one level, he is. 

I honestly believe that some part of Ron feels like he doesn't deserve my love (I'm sure a few of you would agree).  He has a "script" in his head that says "Everyone leaves you, you lose everything, you end up in some hellhole assisted living, and drink yourself to death.  The only people in your life are paid to be there, or out to exploit you."   He seems bound and determined to make this happen, and I can't stop him. 

Thanks for dragging me down with you! 

So, I did a few positive things today.  I told him, I would not help him walk if he cursed at me.  I told him he had to clean the toilet (still waiting on that one, but I'm stubborn).  I walked away when he cursed at me publicly.  I made sure the other vendors saw him in that condition. 

He drinks, he sleeps for a while, drinks some more.  Gets up and makes a lot of noise, and calls the 1-2 people who're still taking his calls (he is very offensive when drunk).  Eats, making a dreadful mess.  Makes a lot of noise in the middle of the night.  He thinks he stops drinking around midnight, but by then he's in full blackout and heading off for refills until 4 or so. 

He probably falls a few times.  Maybe he injures himself; maybe not.  He has damaged a lot of his property while drunk. 

In the morning, he is very groggy and extremely defensive.  He "doesn't want" to work, and it's hard to get him out of the house.  He goes to work, and does maybe 10-20% of the work.  Then we go home.  He sleeps, then wakes up "After 12" and starts drinking again.  Repeat. 

He's killing himself, and killing me too. 

By the way, I realized today he is completely unfit to make any medical decisions for me.  My aunt will make my decisions. 

Guaranteed, if my gallbladder blows out or I get hit by a car, she will be SOBER when she picks up the phone.   She will make a logical, educated, decision in line with my wishes. 

I am asking God for help; Ron needs to realize he has a problem and get help.  I am tired of him trying to drag me down to his level.  He needs to "forgive" God for "making him blind" and start leaning on Him for help.  He needs to respect and value me, instead of constantly attacking the one person who has stood by him. 

It wasn't all bad, though.  When I got home the cat was a wonderful, loving "husband".  He asked me about my day, let me pet him, and curled up with me for a nap.  He also came up on the couch with me during my God Time and got petting and treats. 

Some others, seemingly unrelated, also sent me some very kind and positive messages on Facebook.  I really appreciated it. 

I just want to run away, or beat my head into a wall. 

Video Blog, a day out

The Altar

It could have been a very bad start to my day.  My alarm went off at "5" AM.  I got up and saw it was actually 4 AM.  I went back to bed for a little while.  I got up, did my God Time, gave the cat some treats, and took my shower. 

Ron got up eventually and we went to the wholesale warehouse.  I got the chips I needed for work.  Tomorrow, Ron will run me by the grocery store, and I can get the few items I need to finish doing a good stock. 

I was happy I got some beef sticks.  I can often tolerate them even when nauseous, and they are very low carb (@ 1 gram per 1.25 ounce package). 

Speaking of, the old gallbladder colic and nausea are back.  Ugh.  No other symptoms. 

We came home; and got ready to go to the Christian bookstore.  We did, and stocked 5.5 cases of soda.  Oh, it's so hot!  I want a soda!  [grin]

I ran a few errands, and picked up some fast-food takeout.  Ron and I ate in the breakroom, then went out to wait on our ride.  Came home, nap, computer and housework. 

I think the oddest part of my day, shopping at the import store.  The owner puts on the Krishna praise music.  In English.  Boy, it was catchy.  [snork]  He has the best incense, and that's the wonderful thing about America.  A Hindu selling incense to a Christian, and both of them happy about it. 

I did find the altar a little creepy, though. 

Home again

Ron always wants to know if he was quiet.  He was, but I didn't sleep well.  I had nightmares about black scorpions.  According to the internet, I am "facing a difficult or painful situation".  That's, like, every day of my life!  [snort]  Not very useful. 

I was pretty groggy and kept running into walls, tripping over my feet, etc.  We had a very long ride to work.  One woman talked constantly, the other wore too much cologne.  This went on for over an hour. 

I was glad I had my headphones, and Ron, his talking book. 

We finally got to work.  I didn't have snacks to put out, but they will be OK.  The food machines were pretty full. 

So, I worked on servicing the coffee machine, and sodas.  I stocked many cases of soda.  Ron went to the bathroom, and when he came back I went.  He saw the cart with all the empty soda flats; and mashed them all up for me (a job I hate).  He thanked me for being diligent. 

When it feels like over 100+ in a bad economy, I'm going to thank God for a thirsty customer.  They didn't buy snacks, which was good (I need to stock).  They didn't buy much food, and I can't do anything about that.  They did buy a decent amount of soda, considering. 

We finished up and came home.  It was the driver who had been weaving somewhat the last time.  I made it home alive.  It was pretty much the same thing, but another hour-long ride.  And what a nice surprise, an obviously manic woman stuffed in the back seat next to me, talking nonstop. 

I never take my medication for granted.  I don't want to be that person. 

When I got out at home, the driver did, too.  I took his hand, in both of mine, and told him "I'll be praying for you" - implied, you're going to need a lot of prayer to deal with her.  He laughed.  That is a nice thing about my audio processing disability; I didn't understand one word, in 10, that she spoke. 

What I did get was alarming.  Apparently she has gotten in trouble for interacting with babies and small children, without the parent's permission.  Oh boy. 

I came inside, exhausted, and took a nap.  Turns out it was a 3 hour nap.  I had a nightmare about the last client carjacking the cab and driving on the freeway during rush hour.  Time to get up. 

Tomorrow we go to the wholesale warehouse (I plan to get some meat sticks for myself, snacks for work, and some soda for work), and then home.  We stock our other location, and then home again. 

It ought to be a fun day. 

Now I need to figure out what I can eat for dinner, that will enable me to take my lithium, and deal with the nausea, too. 

As able

Yay.  I think I'm getting manic. 

I plan to "point" it at yardwork and organizing the garage.  I like to have a list of things to do, then I can whack them as able. 

Away from the heat

It is hellishly hot.  I'm hiding in the house. 

This morning I got up, finished doing the laundry, took out the trash, etc.  I actually woke up on my own, and had a decent night's sleep.  I was happy. 

We had a very long ride to see Doc.  It was tuneup time.  Not to mention, I wasn't really happy with the hallucinating business.  I wanted some advice; next time, what do I do? 

So, I asked, and he told me he would like me to [medication adjustment - ask YOUR doctor].   That seemed entirely reasonable to me.  We finished up and I left. 

We met my aunt for lunch, and had a very good time.  I had a tasty hamburger. 

We waited a while, and it looked pretty grim for our ride home.  Ron and I discussed the possibility, next time, of me riding the bus (it is possible).  Our ride finally came, and it was a coveted straight trip. 

I got home, laid down for my nap, and as soon as I fell asleep the phone rang.  Twice.  It was the pharmacy. 

They always seem to get rather agitated about my refills.  I don't fill a prescription when I am OUT.  I fill it before I am out, so they have time to do whatever it is they do.  I want a boring, drama-free life.  

I reassured them I had PLENTY, and hung up.  They have probably had some very ugly experiences. 

Then I figured, since I was awake, I'd do some painting.  So I did.  Now I am just relaxing and getting ready for work tomorrow.  Hiding in the house, away from the heat. 

A good Day Out.

I had a very fun day out.  I had a little trouble getting to sleep last night, the neighbor's dog was upset about something. 

I think I fixed part of the problem; we have a couple of knotholes on the fence that are the perfect height for a doggy eyeball.  I covered them up so the dog can't look into my yard, and I have to say it has been QUIET.  I think the dog was barking at my cat. 

Anyway, up pretty early, and off with Ron to Walmart.  I felt a little sorry for Ron, the paratransit company had us there for an hour and a half.  He definitely looked a little wilty in his wheelchair as I shopped for a new bra and underwear.  I also got fun things like groceries, craft paint, colored pencils and a pencil sharpener (the manual kind), and a package of t-shirts.  I even had time to make my deposit. 

My sister's birthday is coming up; I have to cover her present.  We had a pretty good trip home, and then Ron went off to the liquor store.  He is off vodka, and "only" drinking wine. 

I took the bus and went to the grocery store.  I got some enzyme booster for doing laundry.  I know, go ahead and laugh, but I want to try it.  I was mad I had forgotten it at Walmart.  Then I stuck it in my backpack and toted it around all the rest of the day.  [snort]  Along with my 6-pack of bottled Diet Dr Pepper. 

I drank the Powerade Zero pretty quick, it is good stuff and really seems to keep me "OK" in the heat.  The heat index was well over 100 degrees, and the evening news featured a guy roasting a potato in his mailbox.  [gulp] 

I considered going to Starbucks, but my usual drinks are hot and sounded utterly revolting.  I passed. 

I went to my favorite dollar store.  When Tropical Storm Don was menacing the Texas coast, I wished I had some more batteries.  So, I got some double and triple a's.  I also got fun things like foot powder, sanitizer, some bodywash (surprisingly good quality), more of my pink double-bladed razors with the moisture strip, etc. 

Since I was in the area, I checked on our vending machine.  It needs stocking.  Yay!  Then I came home. 

Happily, I had really good transfers, and didn't wait long.  I came home, watched a disaster movie, took out the trash, covered up the knotholes, and organized the front room.  Laundry. 

Now I just need to eat, take my pills, a shower, and bed. 

I need to be around normal people

So, not a good day.  Completely sleep deprived; I missed 2 doses of the antidepressant when I was sick... a really all around awful day. 

Culminating in me sobbing into a hand towel, telling Ron "I don't tell you anything about me, because you just get angry!"  AGH. 

I can take up to 2 antidepressants a day.  I don't like to do it because I tend to hallucinate at 2.  Today, I did it.  Sure enough, a little wierdness here and there. 

I'm not as depressed, though.  That's bound to be a good thing.  When I finish this post I'm going to go to a workout and then shower. 

Ron swore he would let me sleep tonight, he was only drinking wine.  He fell off the bed, onto his computer, again.  He crawled around on the floor doing the whole grunting thing. 

Started shouting for me, could I help him.  I went in.  "Help me find my hot dog".  He brought home a package of hot dogs from work, and ate them.  I told Ron he'd eaten them, as he begged me to check the kitty condo. 

Oh, boy. 

I am definitely going out tomorrow, I don't care about the heat index.  I need to be around normal people for a while.  My life is just too wierd. 

Pretty pissed. Ron up late talking on chat line. Then he told me, one of them was bipolar so I gave her your email. I have.specifically told him NO ONE gets the email, EVER. I also have told him not to discuss me.
Heather