Thursday, March 31, 2005

The dog paid me back

Arrrggh! I just walked in the door to a hideous mess. Back story - I have a slight stress incontinence problem. Coughing & sneezing sometime result in a little squirt of pee (too much info, I'm sure, but eventually relevant - trust me). It's the combined result of two big babies, too much weight, and just getting older. To avoid the potential embarassment or wet bed, I wear a pad, just in case. Tomorrow is garbage day, so the wastebaskets are full of used pads and cigarette butts. The damn dog decided that the inside of a pissy bladder control pad would be a tasty snack. Did she stop at one? Oh, no. There are pieces of pads all over the bathroom where she got 'em and all over the living room where she ate 'em, leaving the plastic liners in shreds everywhere. I can tell which dog did it by the white fuzz clinging to the sides of her mouth. The whole time I was cleaning up the mess, the dog watched, giving me this "Who, me?" look.

Three posts in one day - I really need to get out more and actually talk to people. But that would interfere with my being a hermit, something I've been working on for years.

I feel like such a terrible person

We have 3 dogs, one outside, two inside. One of the innies doesn't get along with the outie, so when they all go to bed at night, it's in dog crates. This morning I left for work and forgot to let one of the innies out of her box. So I rushed home for an early lunch to let her out. She was clawing at the door of her crate when I got there - I felt so bad for her. I have such a soft spot for this dog - she's the sweetest little thing. She's just a stray we picked up in a parking lot about ten years ago, and we've never been able to housebreak her, but other than that, she's the best pet ever. Such a sweet personality. I guess that's why I feel so guilty now - if it had been the crabby mean dog, I'd probably not feel so bad about it. Anyway, I know this is a stupid thing to get all worked up about - it's not like the dog is gonna hold a grudge or anything.

I think I'm started to have some sort of mixed episode. I'm not sleeping, feel wired and edgy, but guilty and depressed at the same time. I wish I could just be a little hypomanic all the time - that actually feels good. This mood, whatever it is, just sucks.

I need some sleep so bad

I've been feeling all manicky at night, and I've been up past 1:00 every night this week. I stay up doing the most inane stuff. Last night I went through all 800+ CDs I have ripped to my computer so I could find if I was missing any tracks. It took hours. I am so exhausted. And, I am a miserable failure when it comes to the cigarettes. I caved in again and bought a pack. I'm so disappointed in myself, again.

Monday, March 28, 2005

Back to work after a long weekend

It was not a very productive day today. For some reason, I just could not fall asleep last night, even with extra Xanax. By the time I realized I was going to have insomnia, it was too late to take a Benadryl - I wouldn't have been able to wake up on time. So I spent most of the day just fighting to stay awake and not screw anything up. I got lucky on two desktop support calls - both issues magically resolved themselves when I showed up. Too bad both calls were about as far from my office as possible. Oh, well - at least I got some exercise.

I was too weak-willed to flush the last of the cigs before I went to bed last night, so I still have a few left. I'll slap a nicotine patch on first thing in the morning. I have some documentation to write, so at least my mind will be occupied for a while. All my work friends smoke, so I'll have to avoid them for a while - they are all to eager to let me bum a cig or two.

I was in our study putting paper in the printer when I noticed the layer of dust all over my craft supplies. I realized then that since I've been on meds, I haven't designed a single piece of jewelry or made any beads. My work table is a wreck, with supplies for various crafts all mixed together. I'm hoping to dredge up the energy to organize that room this weekend, maybe sell some of the craft stuff on Ebay. No point letting it just sit there when I have no creative spark left at all.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

My weekend - good and bad

The good - I had a handyman in all day fixing various things around the house (neither hubby or I are very handy around the house). I was in the middle of posting to the blog when hubby called. He said he was on his way home from work. I took this to mean that he was on his way to the apartment where he stays when he's working. He said he had to hang up because he was home and he'd talk to me in a little while. Twenty seconds later, he walked in the front door. It was such a nice surprise. I totally wasn't expecting him. He hadn't asked us to come up for a visit Sunday, and I just assumed that it was because he'd be busy with church - I had absolutely no idea that he'd be coming home again so soon. All I could do was stare at him with my mouth open, and any thought of whatever I was posting evaporated the minute I heard his voice. I actually thought I was hallucinating for a minute. We had some wonderful quality time together - he's just the greatest guy ever.

The bad - I blew it again with the cigs. I went all day Friday and half of Saturday, then again all day Sunday until about an hour ago. Everytime I smoke one I am just filled with self-loathing and I don't even like they way they taste anymore. I'm just so addicted it's pathetic. This is the hardest thing I've ever tried to give up. A friend who used to have a crack problem says it was easier to give up crack than cigarettes, so I guess I shouldn't hate myself so much about it. My husband is going to be so disappointed in me when he reads this. But, the patches are still here, and I'll give it another go in a day or so (soon as the cigs run out).

Friday, March 25, 2005

All day, no cigarettes

Yep, I'm trying it again. I'm using the 3-step generic patches from WalMart. All of the name brands that I've tried give me a rash from the adhesive, but I don't seem to be sensitive to these. I used them the last time I quit, and I made it 5 months post-patch before I caved in again. I crave cigs madly when I am manic or under too much stress (which can make me manic), but it hasn't been so bad today. Probably the result of last night's Xanax-fest. I slept most of the day, laid around the rest of the time.

My Xanax is prescribed 3 times a day, but I usually only take it in the morning before work and with the evening meds after I get home from work. So, by the weekend I have a few extra. If I know I don't have to get up the next day for anything important, I'll take some of the extras and then try to stay awake as long as I can. I probably shouldn't be abusing 'em like that, but I give in to the temptation all too often. Once I'm off cigs, I'm gonna work on getting off Xanax too. I hear that's gonna be a real treat.

Another Friday night - time to go refill the pill case!

Rant: I'm so confused

Like I've mentioned before, I'm not a religious person. I was brought up in the church, but I don't go anymore, and I didn't raise my kids with any religious instruction. I've always thought of organized religion as a masterpiece of social engineering, a way of herding the sheeple. I've proudly proclaimed myself to be an atheist. I've viewed the Christian/Judeo/Islamic faiths as death cults, all concerned with what happens after you're dead, but pretty much leaving you hanging while you're alive. But now my hubby's got religion, and I keep thinking, do I really not believe anymore, or am I just really angry at God. I am angry about a lot of things. I don't really feel like I've been looked after by any guardian angels lately, if you know what I mean. Every day is just another layer on the shitcake. It's hard to have any sort of faith under those circumstances. The only thing I truly believe is that tomorrow is probably gonna be worse than today, and it'll be that way for the forseeable future. Some one at work tried to cheer me up, telling me God is just giving me all these challenges to make me stronger, and wouldn't give me more than I could handle. Well, I guess I need to be stronger, because I'm sure not handling it very well. I feel like I'm gonna go off the deep end most of the time. I need my husband. I need health insurance. I need to get out of debt. I need to put my car in the shop. I have too many material needs right now to have this spiritual crap dwelling on my mind. I really thought I was over it for good, but I guess you can't alway overcome your upbringing. I really didn't need something else to feel conflicted about. It makes me feel all bi-polarish, swinging back and forth really fast, like every fifteen minutes or so. I guess I just need to go to sleep - I took some extra Zanax, and I can tell that this is making me ramble on and on. Sorry for any drug-induced typos if you find any.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

One more thing I can't explain

I meant to include this in the previous post, but forgot. There's little well in my car's dashboard where some of the indicator lights are displayed. It's a handy place to keep a pen or a lighter, but there was nothing there when I drove my car home last Sunday night. I locked the car when I got home. I drove it to work Monday and home for lunch, again locking the car. When I left home to drive back after lunch, I noticed a piece of wood, about 1/2 inch long and 1/8 inches in diameter sitting in the little well. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but it may have been there. It looks very old and weathered. I have no idea where it came from or how it could have come to be in the place where I found it.

Monday, March 21, 2005

Things I can't explain

I have had some strange experiences. I expect anyone reading this post is going to think I'm just loony, but I've a witness for all of them. I'm bipolar, not psychotic or delusional.

First freaky thing: Before we were married, my husband and I spent a lot of time just riding around, since we both lived at home and had nowhere to go to be alone. One night on dark country road, we saw something horrible in the middle of the road. Whatever it was looked to have been run over, but it was thrashing violently. It was just pink and red all over, and there were no recognizable legs or anything - just these thrashing tentacle-like things. Have you ever seen John Carpenter's remake of The Thing? Well, the scene where the Thing gets the sled dogs in the pen is the closest thing I've ever seen to what we saw that night. To this day I wish we'd stopped and investigated, but at the time, getting the hell out of there seemed to be the best idea - this thing was about the size of a large calf. I'm not a UFO person, but I don't think what we saw was indigenous to the area.

Second freaky thing: After hubby and I moved in together, one day we were just sitting on the bed watching TV. We both caught something in the corners of our eyes and turned to see a 50-cent piece drop to the floor from a height of about 4 and half feet. It's like it just materialized there. We got rid of it by spending it - it was just too weird to keep around.

Third freaky thing: I am not a religious person. I was raised in the Baptist and Methodist churches, but haven't attended services in probably the last 17 years. Weddings and funerals, that's about it. My husband was a lapsed Catholic, and he recently decided that he wanted to be baptized in a Protestant church local to where he's living, and he wanted my son and me to be there. So we drive out there, and I brought with me my old Bible. My grandmother gave it to me when I was 9 years old. The pastor was preaching, and talked about a particular book and chapter. I opened the Bible to that chapter, and the lower corner of the page was bent. Not like you'd bend a page to mark a place, just folded over a tiny bit. There was also some unidentifiable stain on the page. Now what are the odds of that? I haven't opened that Bible in more than a decade, and the first time I go to church, the pastor cites that particular chapter. I stayed up all night checking - there's not another single page that is bent at all. I don't know what to make of that at all. Some kind of sign? I wish I knew...

Whining about another one of those days

I can't believe how this day went. First, I overslept, so my son missed school because I *had* to get to work. I was in a huge hurry, running late, and when I got in the car, I banged my head on the side of the car. I came very close to shutting the door on my head, as I was pulling it closed at the time of the head-banging.

I get to work, and for some reason, the bottom drawer of my desk kept sliding open. Every time I got up, I'd bang my shin on the open drawer. After the third such incident, I decided that the desk needed levelling. You lift up the desk, spin the little foot (or feet if need be) to adjust the desk. Now, I could have asked any one of a number of big, strong men to help me, but in a burst of superhuman irritation & strength, I used my left forearm to lift the heavy oak desk while I adjusted the foot. It took me three tries to get the stupid drawer to stay closed. About 10 minutes later, I started to notice considerable pain in my left arm. I pull up my sleeve, and find that my left arm is mottled with horrible bruises and swelling. And it feels like I pulled something in my collarbone area. Looking at my arm, I think I'm lucky that I didn't break it. But don't congratulate me on my good fortune yet, dear reader.

We had a mandatory customer service seminar today, and during one of the breaks, I snuck out for a smoke. I headed back to the meeting with plenty of time to spare, so I stopped at the ladies room on the first floor. When I bent forward to sit down on the commode, I banged my head on a coathook. It's not a handicapped stall, but for some reason they've moved the coathook lower. More accessible, I guess. I certainly had no trouble accessing it with my forehead - the lump feels like I'm trying to grow a third eye or something. Luckily my hair covers it, and it doesn't seem to be bruising.

I try to take the stairs up to the third floor at least once a day, and this was no exception. I get to the last step on the third floor landing, and tripped over it. I didn't fall, but my shoe did...all the way to the lower landing. I retrieved my shoe and hurried back to the meeting. The rest of the workday was, thankfully, uneventful.

I get home, play around on the computer for a while, then it's time to cook dinner. Go in the kitchen - my son has not cleaned the kitchen. So we start cleaning the kitchen together. He fills the dishwasher and puts in the detergent. It comes in a 50 oz. bottle, and this one is almost full. He wanted to put the detergent away, but I was in his way. Instead of waiting for me to move, he tried to squeeze past me with the bottle and put it in the cabinet, but instead he dropped it directly ON MY BIG TOE. The toenail is split and two hours later it is still throbbing - I expect it to be pulsating like in a cartoon every time I look at it. I'll spare you the intense burst of profanity that resulted. Suffice to say that sailors would have been embarrassed to hear it.

At this point, I decided that the best thing would be a nice long bubble bath. Too bad I didn't check the water temperature before I stuck my injured foot into it. I think it was hot enough to cook an egg. Now I have a scalded foot to go with my throbbing toe - it looks like I'm wearing one pink sock, my foot is so inflamed. Only a few more hours til bedtime - hopefully I can make it without maiming myself further.

I guess I shouldn't complain - I could have been born in some backwards nation and spent my day grinding corn with rocks while I watched a bunch of llamas - but this really was one horrible day.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

I quit smoking every single day...

...and by the end of the day I am running out for another pack. That's what happened today, anyway. I try to quit every single day, and I've made it a few times. Once I quit for seven years. After I fell off the wagon (9/11/2001), the longest I've quit is 5 months or less. When I get too stressed, I can't get cigarettes off my mind. I'm gonna try to quit again tomorrow. I have a long drive with my son in the car, and I never smoke in front of him. Whatever cigs I have left before I go to sleep tonight are going in the trash, so there won't be any around when I wake up. Wish me luck again.

Friday, March 18, 2005

More trouble...will this never end?

I need two rants in one day? That's no bueno. The handyman I had scheduled to do about 20 odd jobs tomorrow has the flu - he can't come til next Saturday. In the meantime, my German Shepherd has to say in a 10x16 foot kennel until he gets here to fix the gate, among other things. I have five ceiling fans waiting to be installed, drywall repairs, a toilet repair, carpentry, etc. I really need this guy out here. But I guess he really didn't want to catch the flu, so I decided to let him keep the jobs instead of me calling somebody else. He seems to be a small time entreprenuer, and I'm all about supporting small business - I hope to own one some day.

Oh well, since the handyman's not coming, I decided to take a little Xanax holiday tonight. Let's just say I exceeded the prescribed dosage by a factor of too many. It's getting really hard to type and not make mistakes. Soon it will be off to bed, where near instant sleep awaits me.

Killing time at work

It's almost quitting time, and I made it through another day with the help of my old friend, Xanax. To anyone walking by, me typing in my blog sounds just like me working. Not much of note to talk about today, though. It was pretty boring. Last night was just awful, though. I was on the phone with hubby, and he said he had to put the phone down for a minute so he could change into his jammies. I waited 15 minutes, and he never picked up again. I knew he'd probably just fallen asleep (which is what happened), but I was so worried I was up all night - I was scared he might have had a heart attack or something. I was so panicked, I almost called the police to go check on him. When I finally slept, I had the most disturbing dream that I was where hubby was, and he was lying on the floor. The Grim Reaper showed up, but it was really Jesus in a Grim Reaper costume. He picked up hubby's head by the hair, and just before he cut off his head with the scythe, he looked me in the eye and said "I win". I woke up screaming. Weird, eh?

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Another crazy day

Forgot my pills this morning, and I planned to just take them when I went home for lunch, but then I remembered that I had a lunch meeting at noon. So I had to run home and take the pills (I was getting very agitated). On the way back to the office, I stopped at a store and noticed that there were these wires sticking out of one of my front tires. I'm driving up to see hubby this weekend, and I didn't want to risk a flat out in the middle of nowhere, so I wound up sitting at the tire shop for over an hour after work while they replaced both front tires. I just got home a little while ago and realized that I didn't take anything out to thaw for dinner, so it's off to the Super WalMart in a few minutes. I hate grocery shopping, and this WalMart is always crowded, but I have a guy coming over this weekend to install 5 ceiling fans that I haven't bought yet. Wow, this is really rambling - can you tell I'm getting manic? I just hope I don't lose it at work again - only one more day til the weekend and my boss isn't going to be there tomorrow anyway, so I think I'll be OK. Wish me luck...

Monday, March 14, 2005

Back to work after vacation - ugh.

I had 147 unread messages when I got to the office. Not what I wanted to face on my first day without cigarettes. I spent all morning reading and sorting email. I have a long list of new tasks, so I guess I will be pretty busy this afternoon, too busy to mope about my current situation. My meds seem to be working - I felt really depressed yesterday, but today I was able to talk to my friend at work about the whole living arrangements thing, and I didn't start crying this time (a first!). I felt a bit panicky when I saw all the messages I had to deal with, but a little Xanax helped with that.

I didn't get much sleep, so the Xanax is making me yawn a lot. Something was bothering our dogs last night - they kept me up for hours barking at nothing I could see or hear. I was a little upset that I couldn't sleep, but I'm glad I have the dogs for protection when hubby is away.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Sad again today

I had this huge burst of manic energy Friday and wore myself out cleaning house before dear hubby came home for the weekend. We had a good weekend, I guess. Spent most of it shopping. He just left a few hours ago for work, and it might be two weeks before we see each other again. I hate living this way. I grew up this way, with my dad always working away, and now I know how much it must have sucked for my mom. I'm so sad when he leaves, it makes my chest actually hurt. I used to be independent - when did I get so needy? Who knows...

I may be ranting and raving by this time tomorrow - I'm on what I desparately hope is my last pack of cigarettes. Wish me luck!

Friday, March 11, 2005

Filling the pill case

It's Friday night, and that means it's time to fill up the pill case for the week. Actually, there are two, a clear one for morning and a green one for night. The cases are septagonal in shape, with one compartment for each day of the week. For each morning there's Synthroid, Xanax and Wellbutrin. For each night, there's Zyprexa, Xanax and Effexor (3 of them and they're huge). Anyway, I have to keep the pills sorted in their littles compartments or I will forget to take them. Or worse, I will remember to take them twice. That's no big deal with the morning meds, but doubling up on the evening meds is horrible experience. Teeth-grinding, agitation, etc. Not much fun, hence the cases and the Friday night ritual of filling them up. Bipolar can be *so* much fun sometimes.

Thursday, March 10, 2005

I am so sad now

Mom made it out of the hospital okay, and I made the trip home just fine. Got the kid home, got the dogs home, but oh, I'm so sad. We'd planned to move to where hubby's new job is, and I would drive into the city to work for the week and come home on weekends. I was gonna try to get my boss to let me work four days instead of five so I could spend 4 nights at home instead of only 3. But due to the nature of hubby's job, he might get called away in the middle of the night and not be there for our child. So, until we get out of debt enough for me to quit this fabulous job, hubby's gonna get an apartment near his job and come home maybe every other weekend when he's not on call. I'll take my son up to visit on the weekends that hubby can't come home. This totally sucks. We might have to live this way for TWO YEARS! There aren't any jobs out there in my field that pay even close to what I'm making now, and it would cost more for me to be the one that lives away from home to work, and we can't leave a child unsupervised so much, so this is what we are stuck with. I just want us all to be together, every day. I miss my husband so much. He's such a good person, and he makes me a better person too.

Monday, March 07, 2005

Not a bad day at all

I'm visiting hubby in the city where he's working now. I'll get to be with him for four glorious nights. It's such a long drive - I'm not looking forward to going home. When I get there, I have to pick up three dogs at the boarding kennel. Their stay at the kennel is going to cost more than our stay at a hotel! It will be good to get home, but I'm dreading the drive. I got lost a few times on the way up here, and I will probably get lost on the way home. But I'll finally get there, I'm sure. There's a chance hubby will come home for a visit either Friday or Saturday and stay till Sunday. Not as glorious as this trip - when he comes home, we're cleaning out the garage.

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Truly a bipolar day

It started out great - my oldest son showed up at my door totally unexpectedly - he's in the army and is in town packing his things so he can move with his wife to wherever it is he's been stationed. I was so happy to see him! Then right after he left, my dad called and said that my mom is in the hospital with pneumonia. She smokes and has asthma, so that can't be good. I'm really worried about her, but Daddy said there was no need for me to fly home and that she'll be OK. I hope so. Wish us luck, please!

Friday, March 04, 2005

Finally, time to post

It's been such a busy week. Work left me totally drained Wednesday and so agitated that I took some extra Xanax. I worked from home on Thursday and lost four hours worth of programming because I failed to save before VB crashed on me. Since I was working from home, I had to have something to show for it, so I stayed up late redoing the work. Oh yeah, and we had to go shopping at WalMart for groceries, which is always a treat.

I feel depressed and manic at the same time right now. Thoughts are ping-ponging around in my head, but my butt is glued to the chair. I wish I had the physical energy to go along with the mental energy - then I might be able to get something done. I have so much work to do and I just don't feel like doing any of it. Every time I see the dust on the furniture, I get pissed off, but never quite enough to do anything about it. Anyone got any advice on how to get motivated to do housework? All I ever really do now is dishes, laundry and make the bed. The rest of it...well, let's just say I wouldn't want any company over right now.

One good thing - I sold a bunch of small-change stuff on Ebay this week, and I'll start shipping my orders out tomorrow. I'm not gonna get rich doing this, but it's fun and requires very little effort - important when you are as lazy as I am.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

Today didn't suck too bad so far

Went to the doctor, and he reduced my Zyprexa back down to 10-whatever it's measured in. I managed to lose 10 pounds over the last month, which is far from my goal of 100-mumblemumble. But I guess the one month trial did prove that is is possible to lose weight on Zyprexa, as long as you do a low carb thing like Atkins or South Beach. Some times if I'm just too stressed out to cook and eat, I'll fast for a day or two each week, so maybe that's where the results are coming from. But no matter how it happened, there's 10 pounds less of me now!