Random Thoughts

One day, four more to go until the weekend comes around again.

I had insomnia on Saturday night and as evident by now, when you have OCD, insomnia is the worst thing to have, because it's more time for your mind to just run and run and run and you have no one or no thing to help distract you from it. And I was thinking about how I am always waiting for the next time I eat or the weekend to come or this or that and all I could think was, every time I rush things, the closer I get to other people's demises. And I started to feel panicky and overwhelmingly depressed (although at the rate I am going, I am going to be dead before everyone else- a thought I don't particularly not welcome).

I also had a dream (nightmare) Saturday night that I was going to be admitted to a psychiatric facility. And not a small place like I was in before, but a big hospital, almost like the old school places. I didn't wake up feeling particularly good after that. Quite unsettled, to be honest.

Since doing the enema last week, very gradually my stomach seems to be straightening out. Although not today. My sister invited me over for Chinese food last night because I haven't had it in so long and have been wanting it, and I kept hesitating on getting it and then finally decided to and now I regret it big time. I wish I would have just listened to myself and ate home.

Last week when I was working on a chart in work, there were a few papers filed under No Name. And when I looked at them, they weren't no name, but rather wrong person. And I briefly looked through the papers and then it caught my eye, that word- paraplegia. I felt like banging my head on the desk. Banging it until this stupid obsession went away PERMANENTLY, although I am starting to think that one of these days I am just going to need to finally (and begrudgingly) accept that it's always going to be a part of me in some way or another.

Random Thoughts

The Oscars are on tonight. How exciting, watching a bunch of rich people pat themselves on the back and get goody bags worth more than most people's annual salaries and full of shit that probably none of them need and can easily afford on their own. 

For the past several weeks, every time I turn on my computer, the clock is off and I have to go manually sync it to the time server. It's starting to drive me nuts, especially because now there are days it won't even sync. My first thought was malware, but I have ran multiple scans and except for cookies, nothing shows up. I googled it earlier and it sounds like it could be hardware problem. Wouldn't surprise me, considering my computer is almost 6 years old.

As I say every Sunday night, I don't want to go back to work tomorrow. I look at my work log every Friday afternoon before I submit it and want to cry. Knowing I am not pulling my weight is frustrating the hell out of me, because I don't like to feel like I am not equally participating. There's days it makes me feel so awful I just want to pack up all of my shit and walk out.

I haven't really been on much so I haven't gotten around to mentioning that the company gave us bonuses. Pretty damn decent ones. And I have never felt so undeserving of something in my life.

This right here should be incentive to take the Prozac. But it's not. I also suspect Prozac won't help me with That Thing, either. If anything needs to be tackled by medication, that is one of them! My mother said to me the other day when I was complaining about taking it that I won't know if it will make me gain weight or not unless I take it. Which is true. And yeah, if it starts to put weight on me, then I can just do like I did with birth control and quit it. But part of me fears that it will alter my body in some way that I won't be able to get the weight off and/or I'll keep gaining.

I wish I could remember how exactly it affected my weight the last time I took it and whether it affected my weight at all dosages or just a certain dosage. The only thing I distinctly remember is of all of the medications I took following my funny farm stay, it was one of the only ones that did something, albeit mildly, and for some reason, 20 mgs worked better than 40 mgs.

Thanks to the snow yesterday, I was in pretty much the whole day and was bored and feeling anxious and restless, so I started cleaning up things. And one of those things was paperwork. And I came across paperwork from when I was hospitalized and laughed when I came across the "Voluntary Admission" consent form. Voluntary admission my ass. If I was to go there now and admit myself, I would consider that a voluntary admission. But that time I would not consider that voluntarily. It was either sign myself in then or the cops would be called. Either way you look at it I was ending up in the hospital, so how is that voluntary?

Earlier I went through old journals to find any record of when I was on Prozac and couldn't find much, except a monumental amount of second hand embarrassment. Holy zombie Jesus, these journals need to be doused in gasoline and lit on fire. And then the ashes need to be burned. I want to crawl under my desk and die just thinking of some of the shit in there. Even on here, I can go through old posts and think OH GOD WHY and if it's still around years from now, I am sure I will go through these posts and think OH GOD WHY. But these journals are exceptionally bad.

And not only is there a lot of embarrassing shit, but there is a lot about That Thing. That alone makes me want to kill them all with fire. And myself, if anyone should ever read them.

The WTF Of The Day

Oh look, another potential "disorder" for some undisciplined brat to be diagnosed with:

Tantrum Diagnosis: DSM-V May Include Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder 

Oh APA, I hope you are never in the market to get mental illness to be taken more seriously. Because you are not helping. If this "disorder" gets added, then psychiatrists will take advantage of it. Tons of kids will be over-diagnosed, meds will be doled out like candy, Big Pharma will explode in profits (gee, maybe I should invest in some Big Pharma stock), more kids' brains will be fucked up. And Mommy and Daddy can just sit back with one less thing on their shoulders. Oh don't mind my kid nearly murdering another kid. He's just got [insert latest trendy diag-nonsense].

And then there was this part:

Previously announced changes to the manual are already causing controversy, particularly the decision to eliminate Asperger’s Syndrome as a separate diagnosis and merge it into the broader category of Autism Spectrum Disorder. In an age when diagnosis has become identity, that move was widely criticized by “Aspies” who take pride in their diagnosis. 

Are you kidding me?

Random Thoughts

I don't know what made me think of it, but earlier today I started thinking about psychiatric facilites and the abuse that goes on in some of them. It's infuriating. For the past couple of years, my local newspaper has ran stories on the local state hospital in the area and all of the abuse that goes on there- sexual abuse, physical abuse, murders, etc. It's sickening.

What I don't understand is why these people even go into this line of work. The place I was sent to was a private facility, so it was run a little better than a state hospital. Some of the workers were actually pretty decent. But then there were the ones that had no business being in that line of work. The ones I wanted to punch and demand to know why they were in this field when they are such rotten human beings. Like the psych tech that used to provoke a bipolar 1 patient with violent tendencies. Frankly, every time she provoked her, I was glad when the patient went after her. Stupid bitch. You want to play with fire, don't fucking bitch when you get burnt.

The patient was fine otherwise. A bit strange, but hey, she liked me and said she was going to consider me an adopted daughter. Seems most of the older women did.

I don't understand the point of going into a field like this, or any healthcare career, if you have no compassion. When I first started college, I thought of going into nursing since I wanted to be one since elemenary school, and I believe I could make a good nurse, but 1) I can't handle stress and 2) I really have no idea how to be compassionate. So I decided against going in the field. I also don't like lawyers and I don't like touching people. I have this overwhelming fear that I will touch someone and they will accuse me of trying to sexually assault them or something.

I had insomnia last night (what else is new) and I was thinking about medication and how I am so torn about going back on it. I'll just come out and admit right now that my biggest fear of going back on them is gaining weight. I don't recall ever gaining weight when I took antidepressants. Prozac made it a little difficult to maintain my weight, but that was about it. The only ones that did make me gain were the antipsychotics. I was fine with Seroquel as long as I stayed at 50 mg or less. But who knows how drugs would affect me now.

In addition to the potential weight gain, there is the potential for increased suicidal thoughts, which is the last thing I need right now. Possibly having to face yet another heartbreaking disappointment of a drug failing to work for me.

The WTF Of The Day

More Kids Taking Antipsychotics for ADHD: Study

Antipsychotics for ADHD? Oh brother.

Why all of a sudden are there so many things antipsychotics are being prescribed for? It's kind of scary. Those drugs are scary. I can only imagine what they did to my brain when I was on them. Certainly a developing mind should not be taking them.

This quote:

Dr. Peter Breggin, a psychiatrist from Ithaca, N.Y., and an outspoken critic of widespread antipsychotic use in children, said these drugs damage developing brains.
"We have a national catastrophe," said Breggin. "This is a situation where we have ruined the brains of millions of children."

Ah, so there are still some psychiatrists with half a brain.

The Stupid Of The Day

I was watching the 12:00 news earlier and they were discussing the Colorado shooting case and something about the psychiatrist being investigated into whether she may have known something about his plan even before she had received the notebook. If that crazy bastard had mentioned wanting to harm others and she did not report him to the authorities, that is just wrong. And I wonder how much that goes on in other cases where a murderer is being treated by a psychiatrist, and then goes and kills a whole bunch of people.

If your patient is standing there saying they want to kill other people, you fucking call the authorities! I would think a mental health care worker would know that! I mean, I make one mention of being suicidal and my therapist barely blinked before she grabbed the phone and let the hospital know I was coming up for an evaluation. And if I had not gone, she would have called the cops. Apparently being a threat to yourself is more dire than being a threat to others.

On a different note, it's National Cheesecake Day. And almost every restaurant I have fanned on Facebook has posted pictures of cheesecake. Now I want a piece of cheesecake so bad, it's ridiculous.

The Stupid Of The Day

Dr. Drew Allegedly Paid $275,000 To Illegally Promote GlaxoSmithKline Drugs

Oh what a shocker. This man has rubbed me the wrong way from the start. He's like the Gloria Allred of mental health. Now I really find him repulsive.

Hey, FDA, why don't you investigate the other Big Pharma companies? Do you not believe this shit goes on in other pharmaceutical companies? Oh, it does. I am sure of it. I see Pfizer (the marketer of that evil Effexor) and Eli Lilly have been nailed in the past. I am pretty sure more than those 3 do it as well, and I am sure those 3 will still continue to do so. I am also pretty sure that every psychiatrist I have been to has been handsomely rewarded for every psychiatric drug they have prescribed me. Nothing but a dollar sign or vacation or whatever to psychiatrists.

The Bitch, Please Of The Day

Police Handcuff Ga. Kindergartner For Tantrum

I snorted loudly at this part:

"Kids are being arrested for being kids," said Shannon Kennedy, a civil rights attorney who is suing the Albuquerque, N.M., school district, where hundreds of kids have been arrested in the past few years for minor offenses – including such things as having cellphones in class, burping, refusing to switch seats and destroying a history book. In 2010, a 14-year-old boy was arrested for inflating a condom in class.

Kids being kids? Since when is tearing stuff off the wall, throwing books and toys, and throwing a shelf considered normal behavior for a kid? Typical uberliberal lawyer bullcockery.

And then the article on MSNBC.com, Mommy Dearest says this:

"She has mood swings some days, which all of us have mood swings some days," she told WMAZ-TV. "I guess that was just one of her bad days."

Mood swings? I go through about a million mood cycles a day and you don't see me throwing stuff around. Okay, sometimes. But never at anyone. And usually in private, because it's very rare I will ever allow someone to actually see me get really angry. But mood swings and a bad day are the reasoning behind her disgusting behaviour? Give me a break.

My god, what is happening to the future generations? I never heard shit like this when I was younger. I saw fights here and there, and one time a kid threw an apple at a girl's head. That is about the worst I remember. But nothing like what you hear nowadays. This story, that little bitch that attacked her teacher over taking her fucking Halloween candy, kids killing gay classmates, elementary school children raping classmates, etc. It seems like more and more kids are becoming miniature sociopaths. What in the hell are parents doing at home, besides OBVIOUSLY NOT DISCIPLINING THEIR HEATHENS?! And this is one of those typical stories where Mommy and Daddy and their little precious snowflake never do anything wrong. It's always everyone else's fault. It's everyone else's fault that their little demon snowflake is a demon and it's everyone else's fault that they fucking suck as parents.

Oh, but it's okay. Their little brats will be sent to a psychiatrist, where they will be slapped with bipolar or ADD or conduct disorder or whatever new disorder of the month is out at the time, and then they will be put on medications that the psychiatrist is being largely compensated for prescribing, despite the fact that none of these monster drugs are approved for children under 18 and god only knows how much more they fucking up their already fucked up minds.

Random Thoughts

I saw an article earlier over in Dlisted about the new People magazine with Catherine Zeta Jones on the front cover and I had to laugh at this quote in regards to her diagnosis of bipolar disorder:

There is no shame in seeking help

Then why are you suddenly just coming to light with getting help for your alleged bipolar, Catherine? Where were you all the time before? Just suddenly diagnosed with it? Bipolar does not just spring up over night like a frigging zit. Oh, I guess it is easy to push people to get mental health care when you are loaded with money. Not when you are some poor little "common" person with shitty health insurance that limits your psychiatric and therapy visits to so many visits a year and increases your co-pay or doesn't even cover mental health care at all. Fuck you.

I hate celebrities. They are slapped with some diagnosis and suddenly turn into advocates and experts on the disease. Fuck celebrities and fuck the psychiatric world.

I was driving home from work earlier and I was thinking about having mental illness and I started to wonder- will I ever get to be truly happy? I mean, actual genuine natural occuring happy. Not happy caused by pills regulating brain chemicals or electrical shock therapy or whatever new thing the field of psychiatry creates to make a profit while destroying peoplep's brains. And I realized that no, I probably never will know what it is like to feel genuine happiness. And I felt like letting out a scream loud enough to break my car windows.

I don't know how much more of this I can take. I feel like I am in a room I cannot escape from. Basically the worst prison imaginable. And I cannot, no matter what I do, get anyone to even get one inkling of understanding of what this nightmare is like. I just can't get through to anyone. I don't know how much more screaming I can do until someone finally HEARS ME OUT.

That last line reminded me of "Written In The Stars". I absolutely cannot get enough of that song. I downloaded it off of Walmart.com on April 7 and since then I have listened to it 279 times:









I absolutely love this song yet every time I listen to it, I just want to fall on the floor and cry. I mean, like loud howling sobs. I don't know why. It makes me sad for some reason. And I can't place my finger on why, but the line "but I will never change" always hits the hardest.

On another note, I was doing my usual thing on Monday night to pleasure myself and I made it to two orgasms and then I cannot remember what I thought of, but whatever it was it somehow caused me to [whatever the female version of cockblock] myself. I could not get anything at all afterwards. I was pissed beyond belief. The same thing happened on Tuesday night as well. The third orgasm is usually the best. I am talking *imitates explosion* It's fantastic.

God I Hate Scientology

I have stated repeatedly that I am not an advocate for antidepressants. They are handed out for the most ridiculous things nowadays; however, I do believe that there are people out there who do need them. I do know people that have true clinical depression that have been helped by them. I just think that psychiatry needs to stop relying so much on them alone.

It's like the whole ADD thing. I do believe that ADD exists; however, I do not believe it exists nearly as much as doctors say. Most just need a combination of good discipline and a good ass-whooping. And giving children diagnoses of bipolar disorder is unacceptable.

I read a story where a mom took her 18 month old baby to the doctor because get this, it wouldn't stop crying, and the doctor diagnosed it with fucking bipolar disorder and then placed it on lithium. Lithium! To an 18 month old baby! I do not even want to begin to imagine what lithium could do to the body and sodium levels of an 18 month old child. My last psychiatrist was hesitant to even put me (at the time, 22 years old) on it; he said he would use lithium as an absolute last resort. But even so, I would have refused to take it anyway.

But this is inexcusable (not the title, of course):

Bijou Needs A Heaping Serving Of STFU Pie

I'll come back to the whole who the fuck is this chick, but....excuse me? Just buck up and stop being such a fucking pansy? Jesus H Christ! We depressed people would have never thought of doing that! Way to go, Bijou! Seriously, someone give this chick the Nobel Prize or something.

If it was only that fucking easy! Just another assinine opinion from a Scientological asshole and spoken like the typical moron who has no idea what true clinical depression is. Until I see the letters MD or DO after your name, shut the fuck up. Shit, even if they are after your name, shut the fuck up . I wish all celebrities would STFU and stop voicing their opinions on anything and everything and expecting the public to listen to them.

Ugh, this article has me so enraged, I can't even think of anything good to say. I just want to find this bitch and knock her lights out. Although my outragement- is that even a word? oh, who cares- on her comment is nothing compared to some of the comments posted on the article. The ones that state that depression is not real and another link said that if depression were a true physical disorder, then why do people's depression levels change depending on what happens to them day. Some bullshit of some sort like that. Basically saying a physical disease does not get better or worse. WTF? My depression levels have no reaction to what happens. Even if I am around someone I really enjoy being around or doing something I really enjoy, if I am really depressed, it is not going to change it. The only thing that has any bearing on making my depression worse is the weather, hormones, and something really traumatic.

And physical diseases can change in severity. Many chronic diseases run a relapsing-remitting course. Stress, weather, and even hormones can all affect the disease. I think several, if not all, autoimmune disorders are notorious for having symptoms and then either a disappearence or reduction in severity of symptoms. Relapsing-remitting MS, Crohn's, rheumatoid arthritis, and lupus are some I know off of the top of my head.

I just wish and pray every night that everyone in the world could just experience TRUE clinical depression at least once. The kind of depression that makes you feel so horrible and you can't explain why. Where there is no explanation for your bad feelings. The kind that no matter what you do, it will not subside. The kind where you feel so bleak and worthless. The kind that makes these fucking assholes realize that YOU CANNOT JUST SNAP OUT OF IT.

Who the fuck is this chick anyway? Stupid fucking cunt.

Well He Did Something Worthwhile

It's still not up to par, but at least Bush did this:

Equal Coverage for Mental-Health Care

It's about fucking time. "Normal" people may not believe mental illness exists, but those of us with it can, for a fact, assure you that, oh, it definitely does exist. And I can also tell you, for a fact, that to obtain mental health treatment is brutally disgusting.

When I had health insurance, I had unlimited primary care and specialty care (with a referral) with a $5.00 co-pay. When I needed mental health care, though, oh, that was a whole other story. I was limited to about 15 visits with a therapy and 20 visits with a psychiatrist. Each with a whopping $25 co-pay. Twenty visits can be used up easily in no time, especially if you are just discharged from the crazy house. Thank god my insurance actually paid for my hospital stay because that was an easy $25,000.

But I bet this will not change:

Study: Many Psychiatrists Do Little More Than Write Prescriptions

This is the part that eats at me the most:

Today's psychiatrists get reimbursed by insurance companies at a lower rate for a 45-minute psychotherapy visit than for three 15-minute medication visits, he explained.

Fifteen minutes? What kind of psychiatrists offers that much time? I forked out fucking $25 and was in and out in not even 5 minutes.

So this explains why my last psychiatrist had me in and out in such a short amount of time. He got paid a better rate by the insurance companies! The hell with my fucking well-being!

And OMG! Look! I got a story from Fox News!

I Hope This Pasts Soon

It should, since I think I know what is causing it. But not soon enough.

Last night while I was lying in bed, an overwhelming feeling came over me to go out into the kitchen and down both bottles of aspirin we have in our medicine cabinet, plus whatever else was in there (which itself is a scary combination). I just stayed in bed, blasted my headphones, and tried to fight it. It was a horrible, suffocating feeling and I don't know why it came on, except for the fact that I realized that yesterday had been 3 years exactly since I was in that hellhole.

I also realized why I do not and have never acted out on any suicidal feelings or impulses- the possibility that I may survive. Now many people, including several I know personally, who have attempted suicide say that after they did so, they got an overwhelming feeling to live and appreciated life better after the attempt. And then you have people like my cousin who attempt it and later down the line, attempt it again and actually succeed. I have a feeling I would fall into the latter category. I would probably also find one more thing in life to beat myself up over, as in I would think "god, you can't even kill yourself properly. Is there anything you can do right?".

I also am hesitant on ever committing suicide because I can't do that to my family. I know in my cases my mother would be the one to find me and I just can't do that to her. She'd certainly be the only one to understand why I did it, but still. And also....I guess there is still a part of me that is afraid that I would actually go to hell for it, although at this point, I am going anyway so why bother caring?

My sister often says how much better I am than I was three years ago since I have gotten off of all psychiatric medications. Which is partly true. I am nowhere near as bad as I was when I first got out of the hospital (I think I was actually worse than when I went in), but I wouldn't say I am a whole lot better. I just feel completely lost and no idea how to get back on the right track. It feels like every path to get back has some kind of deadend or blockage.

I want to go back to school and I have career ideas, but I get so easily dissuaded. I think of the length of time it will take me (all of them) or the salary of the career is kind of pittance (accounting technology) or I wonder how I will get the money to pay for it (paralegal) or I think of what the job will entail (radiography and anything else in the healthcare field) or I am just not smart enough (all of them, including anything computer related or engineering).

One day I ran to Wal-Mart and I passed by a car with a sign taped on the inside of the back window and aside from that being weird enough, the message on it was even more peculiar. It had a statement about how the reason people fail is because they expect immediate results and don't want to put in the time to get what they want. It was just a weird thing to read in a car and it sounds silly, but I felt like it was there for a reason because that is a lot of my problem. I don't mind working for things, but if it's going to take a long time, I get easily discouraged.

Today, I actually woke up feeling better, but then one of my mom's stupid talk shows had to ruin it for me. Why? Because it had someone with the thing I want. And that sent me downhill. Every single time I hear a mention of it or see someone with it, it fills me with severe depression, an unrelenting rage, and an overwhelming jealousy. I don't know what to do about it, other than to take matters into my own hands. I can't even imagining ever talking to someone about it. I would much rather be in a position of telling someone that I am gay or want to change gender or god forbid, tell somone I am a psychopathic murderer than this. At least those things are not entirely abnormal and/or unheard of. But how many people want this? I only know about 5 other people. There are obviously more, but a bulk of the people with the disorder want a different thing. I just don't know how much longer I can keep this bottled up inside of me. That show earlier has me filled with so much anger, I don't know what to do other than scream at the top of my lungs. At dinner, I felt like taking my bowl of soup and hurling it against the wall.

Technically, there are two things I want. Thing 1 is more recent; it came on in the past few years. Thing 2 is the one that can be traced back to my childhood. Thing 1 can result in Thing 2.

If it is not clear by now what it is, then this should more than likely do it- one time my mother had Lost on and it was the episode when Locke's father pushes him out the window and my mom turns to me and jokingly says "you better not piss me off, I might do the same thing to you one day" and I thought, boy, if it would have the same result, if you only knew how much I would welcome it.

I've asked myself before that if I were given the opportunity, would I wish for this one thing I want or would I wish to not want it anymore and never again? I never knew the answer, but when I think about it, I don't know how I would actually feel if I ever got my wish. So now I know the answer- I would wish for to never want it anymore.

And by the way, when I state that I would rather tell someone I am gay or want to change genders....I am not saying that they are bad things. I just know how hard and difficult it is for many people who do realize they are gay to come out and say it to their family and loved ones and am merely providing an example as to just how difficult this is to tell someone. Or abnormal. Just unfortunately, to some intolerant people, it is considered somewhat abnormal to be homosexual or want to be of a different gender. And if they think that is abnormal, well something like my situation could completely blow them out of the water, although frankly I should not have to feel guilty and embarrassed for wanting this when it's not my fault that society has placed such a stigma on it and has turned it into something so devastating.

It kind of pisses me off- actually, scratch that- it pisses me off A LOT- how some people have a tendency to get, oh, I don't know, pissed at us (myself and others who want this). Everything in life is dealt with differently, depending on the person. Just because this person doesn't like it doesn't mean another person will be as bothered by it. I will have to live with the consequences if it ever happened, not them. I can sit and bitch about why on earth would a man want to become a woman, but I don't. If someone came up to me in tears one day and said they couldn't understand why they feel this way, but they wish they were manic depressive, understandably, the first thing I would think is, are you fucking insane? I would be a bit baffled on why they would want depression, but I would not hate them or get angry. I can be an intolerant person at times and then there are also times where I am very tolerant of people's feelings, no matter how crazy they may seem to others. Contrary to how I may react on here sometimes, this is still a person's personal feelings and I have no right to get angry at them for it.

And it doesn't do anything for them in the end anyway, so why bother bitching? If it happened to me, they would still be in the same situation. They can sit and bitch about how life is unfair when it happens to them and I'm sorry, but I have to ask- what is your point? I may be perfectly fine, but that doesn't mean I still can do just anything. Life is unfair and it is going to treat you unfairly, able-bodied or not. Some more than others....again, able-bodied or not. I don't know what these people want from me. I don't want to feel the way I do, but I do and so far, nothing has taken it away from me and if they don't like it....tough fucking shit.

I don't always feel suicidal. A good majority of the time, but than there are times when I just want to feel worthy and want the feelings to go away and to live a normal life. There are many times when I ask, why can't I be as happy as Lady Miss Kier? If she was even as happy as she came off as. If those drug rumors were true (supposedly she was addicted to heroin or something- after the band broke up; I have no idea how true the rumors are, if at all), then something must have been wrong. It would be sad if she never was as happy as she came off as.

I don't know where to go from here, other than to say how much I hate people sometimes.

And speaking of Lady Miss Kier, I forget to mention about 10 days ago that she was on TMZ.com! Here is the link: Lady Miss Kier of Deee-Lite: 'Memba her?!

Random Thoughts

First....Happy Turkey Day!

Right now I am going to talk about my dog, as seen to the left. Yes, she does have a political Democrat donkey toy. Yes, I bought it for her. She is actually my sister's dog, but we all consider her as the pet family. Her name is Sammie and she just turned 5 on November 7th. Don't let the adorable face fool you. She is a devil and a half. I gave her a bath earlier and right in the middle of sudsing her entire body, she decides she is going to jump out of the tub and shake all over the place. I had to chase her all over my bathroom, which is not big by any means. She's just sneaky like that.

It was a week ago, but I never got around to talking about my cousin's funeral. Not that there is much exciting to talk about. I never cry at funerals. I think the last time I cried at one was back in elementary school when my Pop Pop Al died. I haven't cried at any since then. I just don't find death to be such a bad thing. Now, of course, I did not cry at this funeral either, but when I got home, I certainly did. Suicide is sad. It really is. Knowing that someone else out there that I knew personally was feeling similar to how I have felt many times, but actually went through with it....it's depressing. And people can stand there and say "oh well maybe he should have got help" or "maybe he shouldn't have been so selfish". He did get help. He was on medication. People do not seem to grasp how antidepressants probably never really help people who pretty severely depressed. Also, not many people seem to realize that antidepressants can INCREASE the risk of suicide. I can vouch for that from when I took Wellbutrin. I am not even going to bother commenting on the second one. I can talk until I am blue in the face and some asshole will stand around and complain about the selfishness of suicide.

And if you have ever heard of the fun of going off of Effexor, I can vouch for that as well. It is pure hell. The first time I went off of it, I did it smartly- weaned off little by little. I still got sick to my stomach, dizzy, and felt like I was being electrocuted in my head every time I moved my head or eyes. The second time, I did it stupidly. I dropped from 75 mg to nothing. I had no money to go to the doctors and get a prescription, so I figured I'd ride out the withdrawal. How, to this day, I did it is beyond me. I felt like hell. I was sick to my stomach and dizzy. I had violent mood swings. Every time I drove to work or school, I wanted to floor my car into a tree or railguard or whatever strong structure was close by. Every time I moved my head, my whole body felt like it was being electrocuted. I had internal chills and would put something on to warm up and in no time, I was soaked. I had migraines. I really believe I could have seriously hurt someone if I was pushed enough. I honestly advise anyone to stay as far, far away from this drug as humanly possible. I STILL get the brain zaps to this day and I truly believe I have not been the same since quitting it.

Anyway, back to the funeral, when the actual cemetary part came, someone brought a radio to play songs and wouldn't you know the first song they played was "Dust In The Wind"? I wanted to bust up laughing, because the first thing that came to mind was Will Ferrell singing it at Blue's funeral in Old School and then screaming "you're my boy, Blue!".

The minute I step into a church, every funny thing possible floods my head. I think of the episode of The Simpsons when Bart photo-copies his ass and then places the copies in all of the church books. I think of the episode of Family Guy when Stewie dresses up as a devil and tries to scare someone in church. I think of the time I went to a funeral and my father fell asleep in the church and started to moan loudly (just for the record, he did fall asleep at my cousin's as well; just no moaning).

Hey. No one said I was normal. I mean, this is the same person who has "My Shiny Teeth and Me" by Chip Skylark (from The Fairly Oddparents) on her iPod.

Quote Of The Day

From Girl, Interrupted:

Tony: Do you see purple people? My friend, he saw purple people. And so the state came and took him away. He didn't like that. Some time went by and, and he told 'em he didn't see purple people no more.
Susanna: He got better.
Tony: Nah, he still sees 'em.

I have watched this movie plenty of times and every time the scene is on when they go down and get a hold of their medical records, I think how much I would like to see mine. God, I would pay to see my records. They are mine, after all, so why should I not be able to see what is in them? I think I have every right to know what some whack job psychiatrist is saying about me.

Vent.....

I make attempts whenever I start a blog to not spiral down into negativity too much, but something always ends up leading to it. Having PMS is not particularly helpful.

In addition to that, the weather has not exactly been wonderful. It's been cold and raining and it's making me miserable. I am tired beyond belief, despite the fact that I sleep over 8 hours. I don't want to be around anyone. Every time somone talks to me, I want to scream at them to leave me the hell alone. I don't want to be nasty and I certainly don't enjoy it.

My mother does nothing but give the guilt trip and it infuriates me. I can't figure out if it infuriates me because of what she does or that I allow it to make me feel guilty. She complains that she is always alone, so I go out and watch TV with her and then all she does is talk my ear off why I am trying to listen to something or complains about what I am watching. I don't know how many times I have made it clear to hear to her that I don't want to her about the Casey Anthony story and yet she STILL insists on talking about it.

I am miserable because I am sick of being out of work, but I am terrified to go back. I am sick of being turned down for jobs. Even Target won't hire me. I have four years of retail experience and instead, they hire snot-nosed teenagers with their entire faces pierced over me. All because I couldn't answer the questions in their absurd interview. It's a sales associate position, not a job on fucking Wall Street. A monkey could do the job. I am a damn good worker and I am not just saying that. People who have worked with me can vouch for it. Shit, I worked at KB Toys a few years ago and most of the employees were men and I could get stock out and priced at a faster rate than if all of them worked together doing the same job.

I don't know what to do with my life. I have panic attacks at the thought of going back to school, but I want a career. Part of the reason is I am lazy and the other part is I don't mind working for a career; I just don't want to spend so much time doing it. I want to work my ass off as quick as possible and get it as quick as possible. I don't quite understand how someone can be so smart and yet not be college material. I truly believe I am not college material.

The other night I was lying in bed and I thought back to 2006 and I thought of the first night I was in the hospital and my chest tightened and I started to hyperventilate. Is it possible to have post-traumatic stress disorder from staying in a psychiatric facility? I wouldn't initially think so, but I do believe there is something. It seems like a ridiculous thing to be traumatized, but you would have to know how I was raised to understand why I would be so traumatized by this. I hear certain songs or am in certain situations or see a particular show on that I watched at the time and get sick to my stomach. I just want to take October 2005 to the present and erase it completely from my mind. I will never be able to fully recover until I can finally put this behind me.

The way they treat you in these facilities is degrading. To have to sit there and be talked down to like you are fucking 5 years-old or mentally retarded when you probably have a higher IQ than all of the mental health techs put together is extremely demeaning. To have to go into a room with someone you don't even know and strip down to your underwear is demeaning. Yes, I understand a suicidal patient could sneak in a weapon, but my "suicidal weapon" was carbon monoxide poisoning by stuffing the pipe of my car. Is a car something you can sneak into a psychiatric facility? Where would I put it? In my fucking vagina?

Psychiatric workers often talk of the dangers of working in a psychiatric facility. I saw fights brew between patients and workers and do you know why the patient went after the worker? The worker kept on provoking the patient. There was one patient who had manic depression with violent tendencies that was constantly provoked by one of the mental health technicians. Why on God's good earth would you provoke someone with a severe mental illness, especially a patient with a history of acting violently? Are you stupid or something?

A cousin of mine has been missing for the past few days and was found dead yesterday, by suicide. He attempted suicide about 2 months ago and I guess he was not one of those lucky ones who attempts it and realizes what they have in life. And as usual, the bullshit always starts up about how "selfish" he was and what in life could have been so bad that he had to end his life.

People do not understand a suicidal mind. It's something that could never be understood until it's actually experienced. It's a horrible feeling to feel like your mind is stuck in a big black pit of tar of hopelessness and to be consumed with thoughts of wanting to be dead and that you just can't deal with life anymore and you feel so low and insignificant and that you'll never be good enough for anyone or anything and that all you want out of life is one goddamn thing and it is never going to come to you and that you are too much of a problem for everyone in your life and that they would be better off without you there because you generally just cause everyone heartache with your actions anyway. It's even worse when, other than the explanation that you have been diagnosed with depression....you just don't why you feel so horrible.

Frankly, I hate both, but when it comes to choosing between the periods of absolute lowness and the periods of constant, unrelenting anger, I prefer the latter. At least that gives me some drive and doesn't leave me lying in my bed and unable to get up.