How long have I been blogging?

I’ve read Christine’s blog on and off since she’s been online. Hell, I remember when she chose the name Big Pink Cookie!

Like most of us old school bloggers, we have a lot of online friends in common and most of us are Facebook friends with each other. Well, Christine is a professional photographer now, and posted on Erika’s (the former Snazzykat) Facebook wall that she was going to be in Boston in May.

I sucked it up, sent Christine a FB message, and BAM!

I have my Red Dress photoshoot with a photographer I don’t know, haven’t yet met, but I feel like I know her pretty well and as a result, I trust her immensely. May is going to take forever to get here.

God bless teh interwebs.

When your sanity is bouncing off the roof and walls…

I’m spending this afternoon alternating between uploading Black Mountain Symphony videos from my phone to YouTube (It’s y-o-u tube, not u-tube), listening to a thing BMS did on an Albany area radio station and splitting it into mp3s, installing the Sims 3 onto the iMac since my laptop hates it, working on my story and reading “The Principles of Knitting”.

I guess some people would call that multi-tasking.

I’m calling it mania. I have the attention span of a flea right now which is making all of that possible.

The first song BMS played on this radio show is a song of Charlie’s. He doesn’t perform with them a lot, and I’ve only heard him sing a few times, but I love it when he does. “In Your Waking Life” is already my favorite and I’ve only heard it twice, maybe three, times. The title of this entry is a line from it, and it really sums up the mania well.

I’m not selfish - so here’s “In Your Waking Life”, “Cradle” and “Stop Stopping” from the radio show. (Bill wasn’t there, so “Cradle” is missing the kick ass percussion solo. It’s still a great song, tho.)

Don’t be a dick, ya’ll - be sure and right-click.

If you like what you hear, check ‘em out on Facebook or MySpace. Buy their CD on CD Baby. Take in a live show! You won’t be sorry.

Kiss my ass, 2012

It’s March 14th and I’m already finished with 2012.

I can’t fucking catch a break anywhere.

Now that the accounting department has been vastly restructured at work, a lot of my happy came back. (Not that the bipolar is helping matters.)

Of course, the day after my happy started moving home, we found out one of our coworkers has cancer.

All I can say is that little bossman’s decision to get disability insurance for our employees was the best thing he’s ever done for the company since he took over.

I’m tired of dealing with all this grown up crap.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for 2012 to stop being such a major shitshow?!?!

I wish ya’ll could live in my head for an hour.

... if you could even last an hour, that is.

It’s hard to describe to people what’s going on in there on a good day. On a bad day/week/month/year, it’s beyond impossible.

I dip into deep, deep, dark, scary dark, depressions a lot lately and they’re tinged with anger. Rage, even. The voices in my head are incredibly mean lately, too.

We’re working on fixing this, but it’s not like any other illness, where success is easier to measure. Therapy and pills are the weapons of choice, but they’re sticks and stones. I need higher power weaponry. Ninja level shit.

My body, however, wants to make this even harder to fight. Bad reactions to the slightest change in ingredients that makes a drug a generic, problems with my heart defects (yes, TWO! Two heart defects. Ha ha ha.), problems with insurance (because the pills that work aren’t always covered. yup.), and problems with side effects. (Remind me to tell you the story of how upping one of my meds two months ago made me go blind. Really.)

The wrong combination of pills fucks with my heart. The right combination of pills makes me top 200 pounds. A tolerable, almost perfect, combination of pills has me experiencing extremes lately: extreme stability and extreme bipolar. After all the trial and error, we’re not quite ready to give up on this combination. It’s worked so well for years. YEARS!

We tack on an extra milligram here and there, we change the times the meds are taken, we cross our fingers.

And we hope.

A lot.

——-

I stopped hanging around with other mentally ill people online a while ago. Some of them were faking. Some of them had learned how to work the system and get disability even though they’re not entitled to it. Some are seriously fucked in the head, and probably misdiagnosed. It’s not a world where I can find people I have things in common with anymore. The landscape has changed.

As I’ve gotten older, it’s gotten worse. I’m on my fourth go-round of trying to decide what we would need to cut to be able to live on J’s salary. I am getting to the point where I can, unquestionably, undeniably, qualify for SSDI. I’ve been subtle about it, but I’m exercising my rights under the ADA* that my employer make reasonable accommodations for me. And yet, I refuse to give up. Even though the writing is on the wall.

I grab my helmet, and my gun, and I head into the battle.

I refuse to give up this fight until I’ve won.

Or I die.

——-

*Thank you, Teddy Kennedy. I will always love you forever for that.

It’s a location joke.

“So do you ever go out with your other girlfriend?”

“No. She’s clumsy.”

——-

I’d almost apologize to the good Doctor, but we’re writing our own dirty version of “Green Eggs and Ham” over here and it’s all kinds of awesome.

——-

Possibly related: HOLY FUCK. We are loving The Big Bang Theory. Why did it take us so long to find it and why isn’t it on Netflix?!?!?!