Sunday, October 18, 2009
So my day consists of mind-numbing group therapy sessions followed up with tons of mind numbiing questions from the staff and doctors. Are they trying to make me more crazy? I took an overdose of pills and that is how I ended up here and it looks like here I will stay for a while.
The only entertainment here is when someone gets out of control and gets dragged off the floor and tied down or injected with the sleeping potions.
Okay my 10 minute time limit on the computer is used up now. I will keep everyone posted.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
So there haven't been any wild spending sprees lately, no crazy escapades, i actually sleep at night, don't sleep all day and when I enter a room I only see and hear the people who are actually there...no imaginary friends if you know what I mean. So what the hell do I do now? How do I live this mundane existence.
Don't get me wrong, I am not asking for the madness to return any time soon. But I must admit life has become quite dull. I mean I actually read about the feud between the Jon & Kate couple, am totally addicted to watching Big Brother (want Kevin to win), today I watched the recycling guys go down the street and pick up all the recycling, I even did grocery shopping like a normal person would, bought normal food...not 23 lemons, 5 bags of chips, 47 rolls of paper towels, cupcakes, 2 carrots and one of everything from the impulse aisle. Grocery shopping just doesn't have the same appeal when you aren't crazy manic and hitting the all night grocery store at 3 am. And let me tell you, the people in the grocery store at 3 am are far more interesting than the ones who are there at 11 am. The other day I drank lemonade on the porch then drove to the library instead of driving to Boston, or Florida, or to Buffalo for chicken wings and coffee. Sigh!
A friend of mine who is bipolar always tells me he is enthralled with his madness. I used to find that statement quite bizarre, what with the havoc this illness can cause, but I think I am starting to understand his sentiment. I always dreamed of having some stability but didn't know it would bore me to death. I guess I am so used to all the drama that I don't do calm anymore...or don't do it well.
Well now that I have filled 20 minutes whining about my boredom, I only have 23 hours and 40 minutes to get through today. For those of you who think I am nuts for being worried about being stable, stay tuned, I am sure the next episode is right around the corner. Someone can remind me about this post when things spin out of control. Okay I have to run, the ladies are coming over for tea...just kidding, but I am going to weed the garden. Oh what have I become?
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
So back to the question. We are all going to die and does it matter when? How much does a person have to take? Does a person have to live a miserable existence when they are just going to die anyway? What is the point? Why bother? Why fight and struggle your way through a joyless life and then just die anyway? This is what I torture myself with. These thoughts go over and over in my head.
Then the guilt thoughts start. I am just feeling sorry for myself. There are people who have it much worse than me. People who are in much worse pain. People who live a bleaker existence. In the end I feel guilty and I don't want to live my life.
There is always the guilt of those that would be left behind if I decided to end my life. My family would be devastated. My parents of course, and I am very close to my nieces and nephews. This has stopped me a few times when I was on the brink. At other times I had convinced myself that if they loved me like I loved them they would want me to be at peace. I have had conversations with my family letting them know that if I was to die by my own hand there was in no way anything they could have done to prevent it and they should have no guilt because it would be only about my pain. I suppose for them this would provide little solace, so I suppose when I died would matter to them. My mother several times has said to me if you are going to kill yourself can you wait until after I am gone.
I find it somewhat ironic that if people had a pet, say a dog or cat that suffered as much as many of us with mental illnesses do they would let that pet go. They would allow that pet to have an end to their suffering. We cling to people though don't we.
I have thought about what I might miss out on if I didn't live to old age. I don't think I would miss much experience wise. I have already decided not to have children because I don't want to pass on this illness and don't know how great a parent I would make with having this illness. I travelled quite a bit before my illness really got its grip on me. I had a good career for a while but never will again. My financial future is severely limited now so there aren't any great adventures in the future out there waiting for me. I don't think I would miss much.
I suppose in little ways it can matter when you die. I started to overdose on pills a couple of nights ago and about 20 pills in I realized that if I died that night my brother wouldn't have a babysitter for his kids. He is working second shift until the first week of August and can't get a babysitter that will look after his children until 2am so I have been doing it. I had this moment of clarity in the middle of my suicidal moment where I decided I couldn't die because I had to babysit until August. I am not sure if that is rational or crazy. Oh and I had a whopping headache when I woke up the next morning.
There is always the big picture to think of in deciding if it matters when you die. Whether a person believes in God or not...and whether God is a vengeful God or not. Whether it is a sin to commit suicide or not. I think about that a lot too.
So essentially whenever I get depressed I guess I justify my suicidal feelings to myself by saying I am going to die anyway, what does it matter when. I am not sure if other people do that too. The professionals all think feeling suicidal or committing suicide is a sign of insanity. In my opinion it can be a very rational decision to end a very awful life...but of course what do I know. I am nuts.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
n you drive faster than a speeding bullet, think you can leap tall buildings in a single bound and speak faster than most auctioneers
n you talk to god and he talks back to you
n waking up at supper time is getting up early
n there are more pills in your head than there are in most pharmacies
n going to the hospital means a ride in a police car
n you are unhappy with your mood but know it is okay because a new one will appear any minute
n you have had more jobs than you have birthdays
n going to appointments is your full time job
n you have the psychiatrist, therapist and crisis line on speed dial
n 20 minutes is a good nights sleep
n you ask does this medication make me look fat?
n you are never lonely because you have the voices in your head to keep you company
n you use credit cards to make payments on your other credit cards
n you take frequent trips to club med...icated
n you go out 18 nights in a row then don't leave the house for a month
n you make 8 quick right turns on the way home to make sure no one is following you
n you see dead people but you don't have your own talk show or psychic hotline
n you know you are the queen of England but people don't bow to you or call you your majesty
n your medicine makes you want to scarf down sugar right out of the bag
n when people greet you they don't say hello, they say how are you feeling? or are you taking your medication?
n people like hanging out with you because it makes them look normal by comparison
n you make the energizer bunny look lethargic or make a turtle look zippy
n YOU ARE STRONG, RESILIENT, BRAVE, COURAGEOUS AND FACE AND CONQUER DAILY BATTLES MOST PEOPLE COULD NOT EVEN IMAGINE!