Tag: humor

Wait till you hear this….

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I had an appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday (down to every 3 months, thank you very much). He’s been my doctor for so long, I’ve watched him turn gray.

I didn’t plan it. It came to me in the waiting room when I was filling out that f***ing depression scale form. Sorry, I must feel passionately about how much I hate that f***ing form to make me swear.

I told my doctor that for the first time in my life I feel things are going my way.

For two years I’ve had a hard time, but not related to my mental health, chemically that is. It’s been my dad being sick twice and then dying, losing my job, the consistent rejection from my sister and daughter and all the feelings and worry they generated.

The things that are going my way seem boring at first glance, but that is the way it is for most of us I think. I don’t require a lot to feel this way. Getting cheap insurance, a bit of money from my dad’s estate, ketamine, friends, business, and cats doing well, etc. It also includes my car running well, exercising, loving my house, affording my house, getting my first physical — where the doctor asked if I have had botox, which I have not.

And while all the bad things were not “luck” or “fate,” neither are the good things. I continued to think deeply about that statement. I realized I work hard, mentally, physically, and financially, to finally be able to say it.

I don’t know what is up ahead, but what a calm feeling to have for now (calm has never been in my “mood” selection).

I feel like hell.

Published on by cmglife

I started this blog because I needed to talk about my life anonymously after being diagnosed with a mental illness that caused me shame and devastation. Well, that is how I saw it back then.

Today, I feel different than I have in a great while.

I have not been able to write honestly about some events in my life in the last few years because to write about things, I would have to think about them.

All I am doing today is crying. Not quite sure why. It may be built-up stress, disappointment, and a bit of loneliness. I just contradicted myself; I do know why I have been crying all day.

So why not take advantage of this crying day I thought?

Here is the the update from the last few years in the quickest and most vaguest way possible:

My dad almost died two years ago. My sister and daughter lied about everything to do with his care. I realized they were gaslighting me, and worse still, I was gaslighting myself (all my life, it turns out).

I lost a promotion to a younger, less experienced person. I needed the position because I knew my position might be eliminated due to school budget cuts. I had to work with her, feeling humiliated, all year.

My new supervisor made my life miserable. She was jealous because I succeeded every time she set me up to fail.

My dad got very sick again and died. He suffered so much because of the neglect from my sister. No one can convince me otherwise—neglect partly from denying me access.

Just as I had predicted, I lost my job. I have been looking for work since May. It is not going well.

What is still a constant weight is that my sister and daughter continue to alienate me. I do not know my grandchildren. They preach Jesus, but these are the people who give Christianity a bad name.

I do not want to say anything positive today. Next time.

How to Calculate Lifespan in Stamps and Checks

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First Calculation (Stamps):

I was asked to mail a document recently with an original signature. I had used my last stamp at Christmas, so I bought 2 books 40 stamps. I felt uneasy when I did the math and realized that based on use, the stamps might outlive me.

1 stamp x 30 yrs = 30 stamps (10 leftover)

Second Calculation (Checks):

I was asked to submit a voided check for direct deposit. I haven’t had a checkbook in over 10 yrs, so I went to my bank in person and asked for 4. I used the same stamp formula.

1 check x 3 decades = 3 checks (1 leftover)

I think it’s obvious I did not use an official actuarial table, but I feel pretty good about my lifespan represented in stamps and temporary checks.

Link to an actual actuarial table: https://www.ssa.gov/oact/STATS/table4c6.htm

Empaths, Narcissists, and ADHD

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Not only do I suffer from all of the things I suffer from (listed below )I am also an empath. There is a lot of deep and life long suffering due to this one.

I began investigating more on being an empath because of a new situation I find myself in. I’m being moved from my old position at work to a new position (not my decision) with a narcissist as my supervisor.

For this post, I looked around to find guidance incase someone would like to know more. I let out an “oh for goodness sake” coupled with my ever present eye roll when I read this: Empaths, Narcissists, and ADHD

It feels like narcissists hook on to almost anything (that’s why they are narcissists…they infiltrate every possible weakness known to the human condition).

I still haven’t made a good plan yet. I love my job and unlike most of the staff, I get a mental health boost when I’m there. I am really worried about being able to stay if I cannot figure out how to live with this situation 8 hours a day, day after day.

My one plan is to study and practice responses. I’m going to research how being an empath can actually be a positive for me. There has got to be a way to spin this.

This is a complete list of things I have been diagnosed with:

Ultra Rapid Cycling Bipolar 2, Bipolar Depression, ADHD, Complex PTSD, Treatment Resistant Depression, Hypothyroidism, Raynaud’s syndrome, Female

I know “female” isn’t technically a condition, but it does apply here. Whenever I investigate anything I have or think I might have the percentages in our population and severity are always higher for women.

Oh, forgot two other syndromes worth mentioning….BIARW (Believing I am Really Witty) and OOABMW (Only One Amused by My Wittiness).

Please don’t do that, middle schoolers are watching…

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We have a new vice principal at my school. He is a very nice man. He is really enthusiastic with the kids as well as the staff. Having said that, and if you’ve read some of my other posts, you know I am an introvert most of the time. I challenge you to take the pop quiz below relating to the choices I am given to greet our vice principal.

I would rather:

A. Fist Bump

B. Hug

C. High Five

D. Learn fancy “dance” handshake.

E. None of the Above

The Accidental Kindness of Strangers

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Yesterday I backed into a car while attempting to get into a parking space.

I got out of my car and we looked at the damage. I had dented and cracked his bike rack. No damage to mine. The man wasn’t very nice and actually said, “You’re not going to skip out on this are you?” He stated this in several different ways several times. The nerve!

Side Note: I did not have a terrible reaction the way I used to when I did something wrong. My eyes only filled with tears and lips quivered. Almost, but not quite, my face began to crumple into “oh god I’m going to cry” phase. Honestly I’m not ashamed of any of that. I think that would be a normal reaction to an unpleasant situation.

While standing there trying to keep my calm, I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was the director of the event I was working. He asked if I was alright. He had such a genuine look of concern, a few more tears leaked out. He asked if I needed to go home he would understand. I said I would be alright and he gave me a hug.

On my way into the event someone else approached me to ask how I was and she gave me a hug.

Half way through the event a volunteer checked in to see if I needed anything and I got another hug.

When the event was over the director came by again and I thanked him . I said I couldn’t believe how kind everyone was and how much it meant to me that I wasn’t standing there in the middle of the street alone.

This maybe a bit dramatic, but it was human nature, as it could be and was that in that moment.

This accident was no accident. The more I think about it, to experience kindness and worth as a human being, well, was worth the deductible.

When can we get in on this PRIDE thing?

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Today, on the last day of PRIDE month, it dawned on me….how do I (and other mental illness sufferers) get a PRIDE thing of our own? I want to feel safe to come out too.

I spent an hour writing four paragraphs of how we can’t come out and then I deleted them. What I had written is not necessary because we know the truth of having to live with a mood disorder. The constant spread of misinformation in this society keeps us scared and hidden.

I think our word would have to be different entirely, because I do not feel proud. I don’t know how I could. It would be like feeling proud living with diabetes or heart disease. Both, by the way, have a huge impact on health, but no stigma.

Here is what I came up with:

RESILIENCE Month – boring

BRAVE Month – boring

GRIT Month – I like this one, but it’s got a “mechanic feel” that doesn’t feel right.

COMPASSION Month – Could refer to anything.

I needed help coming up with more words for our very own PRIDE month so, of course, I searched Google hoping that maybe AI could come up with something better.

This one sentence below says more than I could have said in a thousand paragraphs .

What would you do for sugar?

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When you really need sugar and by accident find these under your bed! They weren’t all chewy sweet tarts though.

Can you find the ibuprofen hidden in the chewy sweet tarts?

It’s a new day, it’s a new life….

Published on by cmglife

I began writing my blog from a need to accept my newly diagnosed self with Bipolar II.  At that time, except for my marriage, that seemed to be my biggest struggle.

I wrote mostly about everyday things with a little humor.  Those were good times.

My posts changed with my mother dying.  The trauma of those two weeks coupled with my broken marriage wreaked havoc with my delicate emotional balance.

The next years became fraught with major life changes.  My youngest daughter’s seizures, my narcissistic ex husband’s affair and the divorce.

I was thinking back to the last year and a half (which I try very hard not to do).  My relationships with my children were falling apart. I was emotionally falling apart.  During this turmoil I was still able to work full time and part time on the weekends, put on a happy face to the world.  I had some bad moments where I was responsible.  I had terrible moments that I was not.  I was out of my abusive co-dependent marriage, but having withdrawals from the tiny crumbs of love that was all I had received for the last 27 years. I was 25 pounds overweight. My medicine was causing trouble and I was drinking a bottle of wine every night.  To add to this pile of misery was my constant drive for perfection in everything from work, family and even the speed of my recovery.  I was a mess.

Now to the present. I am 25 pounds lighter, no more drinking wine every night, medicine stable and relationships repaired.

I’ve still got a ton to fix, but I’m finally coming out the other end and I can tell my stories with humor again.  I can write how I fixed and am fixing so many things.

The most important indication of my new found hope was changing all my passwords to happy words with exclamation marks!

Another One of Those First World Problems

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I feel complaining about insignificant things and labeling them “FWP” exonerates me from being a whiny spoiled person living in the best place in the world.  I’m also a jaded ex-catholic, so there is already a layer of guilt underneath everything I say and do.  

I want to post this for another reason.  With the hell I’ve been going through for the past year from medication side effects, divorce, being ostracized by my children and doing all of this in a delicate mental condition, I welcome superficial trivial problems. 

Here is one now:

Well, so far this is a very good day! I colored my hair this week from an online hair color boasting it is just like the professional color. I don’t know why I bother. The brown of my hair turned out beautifully but the white came out a light brownish reddish. Anyway……I used the last of my root concealer two days ago (forgot all about covering my roots on Tuesday and was out doing errands for four hours). Luckily I wasn’t aware so had all of the confidence of a good looking person. Back to my roots (pardon the pun) I was even debating wearing one of Allison’s hats to hit the Walgreens early before too many people were there to get a new can of concealer. In the bathroom I took one more last ditch effort, fingers crossed, to look in the bathroom closet.  There it was buried under cold medicine…..half a can!!!  Halejuha!

Dear Life:  please keep bringing on those kind of problems.  I really need a break.  xoxo