Today, someone is coming to fix the dishwasher. It’s been broken for almost a week, so I’m happy about the idea of having a dishwasher again. However, I do not like the idea of a strange guy in my house. My dog can look scary when he’s barking, but that will only last about one minute before he wants to play and be pet by this stranger. The dog’s no good for protection. Thank goodness my husband will be here. That makes me feel safe. I’m sure the guy coming to fix the dishwasher is a nice guy, but my mind always thinks about ‘what if’ situations.
I’m still feeling like a screw up. I wish I knew how to get rid of this feeling. I keep doing things that I’m good at, hoping to counteract this emotion, but the feeling is still there. It’s an irrational emotion, but it’s what’s going on with me lately. At least I know that this feeling won’t last forever. With my bipolar disorder, I know that no emotion will ever last forever. I will go up and down quite often. So all I need to do is hang on until this horrible feeling goes away.
Pretending to be feeling okay, when you’re not, is exhausting. I do this mostly around my in-laws. I don’t know why. They know about my bipolar disorder and are very supportive. I guess it’s just my comfort level. I’ll open up over time. I’m getting more and more comfortable around them. I think it’s just because we normally spend our time in large groups. I do better one on one.
The past couple of days, I’ve been feeling like a total screw up. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong; I’m feeling shame. There are also some things that I’m avoiding because I know/feel as if I’m going to mess it all up. I don’t know where these feelings are coming from. I’m reading into everything that people say; somehow, I can find negative things about myself when others are talking. The “funny” part about it is that people don’t even have to be talking about me for me to find something negative about myself.
I think a lot of it comes from my weight gain. I look in the mirror, and I automatically feel sad and pathetic. All I see is the person I don’t want to be. I feel like I can’t talk to others properly, I can’t stay organized, I can’t workout well enough, I can’t cook right, I can’t get things done, I just can’t do anything right. I wish I knew how to get rid of this feeling. This overwhelming feeling is taking control of my mind and body.
Even though I know that I don’t do everything wrong, I still feel as if I do. I don’t know why that is. For instance, I know I’m a good cook; so why do I feel like the dinners I’m making suck? I’m also a very organized person, but I feel like my house is unorganized and I don’t know how to fix it. I know the truth, but what I don’t know is why I still feel this way even though I know it’s false.
I don’t know why I keep talking. I’m getting better at controlling it, but I still seem to annoy others when I talk. I even annoy myself when I talk sometimes. I tend to repeat myself over and over. I ask a lot of questions, too many questions. I wish I could blame it all on my memory loss, but I would talk too much even before I started having memory problems. Every time I try to talk less, I end up not talking at all instead. I suppose I’m an all or nothing kind of person; I’ve never really been able to find any middle ground.
I have noticed that I tend to talk when there is silence. I get uncomfortable and for some reason, I decide that talking will make the situation more comfortable. It never works out that way. I usually end up saying the wrong thing. I think it would be okay if I decided to be a little more quite, if it is my decision and not because of someone else. Life would be easier if I started making decisions for myself instead of for everyone else. I don’t know if I can do that, but I can start trying.
It feels like everything I do is wrong. I’m either doing something incorrectly, or not doing things I should be doing. I feel like I’m doing things wrong even when I’m just talking. I seem to say the wrong thing and upset people. I react the “wrong” way and it tends to piss some people off. I know, somehow, it’s not really my fault, but it still feels like I’m in the wrong. The easiest way I can think to fix most of these issues is by not talking. I feel like I should withdraw from my group of people and stay alone with my dog. At least I know that I can’t bother him the way I bother others.
I think that one of the things that tend to bother some people is that I’m always trying to make everyone else happy. I ignore my own emotions and focus on others, which I know can be annoying. Thinking of others is my way of dealing (or not dealing) with my own emotions. I feel inadequate and weak.
Right now, I’m overwhelmed with feeling like I’m wrong. When I got another bill in the mail for more than $4000 from my husband’s surgery last year, he freaked out. I tried to explain to him about out-of-pocket maximums, deductibles, and appeals. I filled out and completed the appeal, but what if the bill is for real? Then we’re screwed. Even worse, I’ll have to tell my husband about it and he’ll be really frustrated. No matter what I do, it just feels wrong. I always try to fix everything when he gets upset, even when he’s not upset with me. I just wish there was an easy answer to everything or anything.
I’m really tired of feeling wrong. I feel like I push people away. I don’t want to push my family away. At least I know I’ll never push my dog away. That’s the good thing about pets; they love you no matter what.
Every week I get my blood drawn to check for any possible side effects from taking Clozapine. The medication can cause many serious side effects, and the blood tests are there to catch the issues before they get too serious. My blood work results are finally all within normal limits. At one point, they got so bad that my pharmacist said they may not be able to continue filling my Clozapine prescriptions. We still have to keep an eye out for any issues since I’m increasing the medication slowly. I’m still doing weekly blood work, but I’m almost half way through it. At six months, I get to switch to every other week. At least it’s something to look forward to.
It’s also been getting easier to get my Clozapine prescriptions filled. I haven’t had to call the pharmacy and see if they have my blood work results, which is what I have had to do up until the last two weeks. I haven’t had to call the lab to have them fax over the results again either. The pharmacist is also no longer questioning my blood work because my results are finally normal. I’m glad this is finally getting easier, it’s about time. All I have to do now is hand the pharmacy my prescription, and 30 minutes later my medication is ready to be picked up.
I use tattoos and jewelry as reminders for myself that I have gotten through these times before and I can do it again. My aunt gave me a personalized bracelet that helps me when I’m dealing with suicidal ideations. It reminds me that my family loves me and that I can get through this.
The picture for this post was based on me. The artist was using me as a base of the image. I decided to get this tattoo done after I had gone through a horrible depression. I had also just lost a bunch of weight that I gained during the depression. This tattoo is to remind me that I’ve gone through this before and I can do it again. At this point in life, I do know that I’ve gone through depressions and weight gain before, many times. I do believe that I can get through it again, I just have no clue how long it will take. That is the hard part. It’s hard when you don’t know how long your life will be this way.
I have other tattoos to remind me of other things. I have my father’s plane in flight located between my shoulder blades. On one rib cage is some of the sheet music for Fur Elise, which is also a reminder for my father. On my other rib cage is a quote that reminds me of my friend who was also my AA sponsor. We are still friends, more like family. On my thigh, my tattoo shows my transformation from addiction to sobriety. My back tattoo represents the metaphorical hell I’ve been through with my bipolar episodes and PTSD.
For me, tattoos are a great reminder. They remind me where I’ve been and how far I’ve come. Maybe I should get another one. I think I’ll wait a little while before doing it. I like to make sure I really want one. I don’t want to be impulsive. My old artist is back in Connecticut, but my cousin is a tattoo artist and lives near me.
When it rains, it pours. I’m just so exhausted with life; however, the second I think I can finally relax, something else happens. I’m overwhelmed and about to burnout. The dishwasher broke over the weekend. At least I rent this house, so I don’t have to pay to have it fixed, so that makes it simply inconvenient instead of a huge problem. It’s not like when the microwave died. I never realized until then how much we rely on microwaves.
In the yesterday, I got a medical bill for my husband for $4100; it was for anesthesia for his back surgery last year. I mailed in an appeal for it today because we met his out-of-network deductible and out-of-pocket maximum with the surgery. Since we met everything, I don’t think we should be paying this bill. I called the company where the bill was from and let them know that I sent in an appeal. At least everyone on the phone was really nice about it.
A lot of medical bills have been coming in. I’ve paid some, made payment plans with others, and also appealed one. It’s just a bit overwhelming to have all of these bills coming in at once. Many of the bills are from October 2015. They took their sweet time sending us a bill; I feel like I should be able to take my sweet time paying the bill.
My dog cut his paw the other day when he was outside. The short story is that he tripped over a tree stump. I couldn’t even see where the blood was coming from, but I was able to stop it by holding a towel to his paw for a while. Then, I stuck his foot in a bowl of hydrogen peroxide. Every other way I tried to clean his paw was not working. The bowl of hydrogen peroxide worked great. I worry about him though. He always has skin infections; they improve and then get worse again. Now, I’m worrying about the cut as well, even though it’s not bothering him at all. I’m just a worrier.
Life just keeps coming, although I wish I could take a break from it all. I suppose that’s what will happen when I’m in Cape Cod in August.