One Word: Sudafed

I haven’t published in a while. Notice I didn’t say that I haven’t written. I’ve had a lot to say lately but it is very personal and I just don’t see the point of airing dirty laundry. You know the adage, “If you can’t say something nice…” So, I have been keeping it all to myself lately. That probably isn’t the best thing to do. I think that internalizing garbage is unhealthy and that’s what I think has made me sick.

I have felt like shit for a while now. I have this nagging little low level cold that I think is trying to turn into a sinus infection. I have spent the last few days with hot and cold sweats and lethargy. I can’t sleep enough. I finally took Mike’s advice (he’s always right) and went and bought some Sudafed. Wow! Now I know why you have to furnish a license to purchase the stuff. I’m high as a kite and my sinus pressure is gone. Sudafed works on me like Adderall did. My ADHD is pretty much nil today. This is a fun vacation from the chaos that is my brain. My doctor stopped my Adderall because he thought it was adding to my anxiety. I have to say that right now my anxiety level is very manageable. I think it is because I am so focused. Everything is clean and sharp for the most part.

I miss the blistering heat of summer. Well maybe not Summer temps; more like Spring or Fall. I love a nice 85 degree day with low humidity and a slight breeze. I love to lay in my hammock and soak up the Sun’s glorious warmth. I miss that right now. Today, and for the past few days, it has been cool and gloomy. Except for a freaky few hours last night after the rain had stopped when it got really warm and humid. We actually closed up the house and put the air on. I was so looking forward to waking to warm temps and sunshine; figuring that the cold front had passed. Instead I woke to more gloom and a damp sixty five degrees. What a blah day.  I have to try to find a bright spot; something to be thankful for or I will get depressed. So, today I am grateful for the nourishing rain being provided to my garden. There, a silver lining.

Blazing Xmas Trees are Not Just for Rednecks

I’m bored and restless. That’s how I know my meds are working properly. If you’re happy and you know it shake your meds! I breezed through Christmas. It was a simple, quiet day with my love. It was nice that it was quiet this year. I feel peaceful instead of stressed out like last year when I lost it and landed in the hospital for New Year’s Eve. Not so this year. I’ll be right here enjoying a peaceful evening with Mike. Oh, and I’m dispatching. It should be interesting. Guess I’ll be drinking on the job. Like that never happens. I’ve gotten back into drinking beer lately. I really need to lay off because I am gaining weight back. So after January 1^st I’m off the hooch for a few pounds.  

Every year we burn the Christmas Tree on New Year’s Eve. It is a tradition. So this morning I got up, ran some errands and undecorated the tree. She now resides in the fire pit just waiting to go up in a blaze of glory. Mike pours a ton of gas on it and throws a match. It’s quite explosive. Yay! It’s great redneck fun. We truly are rednecks and proud of it. What is a redneck anyway? I guess it’s a way of life but I don’t agree with the bigotry that usually goes along with it. We are a live and let live, love everyone little family. Our group of friends is so diverse. I guess you could call us modern day hippies.

The least wonderful time of the year.

It’s 1 in the afternoon and the dog and I decided to have a liquid lunch. It’s a little chilly today to be drinking beer but it sure is delicious. I don’t usually drink during the day or at all really because Big Daddy is not here to enjoy the party with me. Poor Mike is busting his ass at work and I’m sitting here drinking his beer. I suck. So, it is to my love that I drink. I love him with all my heart.

See now this is the girl that I really am. I’ve leveled off. I’m no longer perched on the edge of darkness. I’m happy girl again. Yay! And just in time too. Nine days till Christmas. Blah! The thing I don’t like about Christmas is the gift giving. I can’t handle the stress to perform. Will they like it? Will it be enough? Of course they’ll like it. It’s a fucking gift card. That’s how I roll. I find that Lowe’s has and awesome assortment of gift cards. They have a nice little section at the front of the store that has any kind of card you can imagine and there are no crowds. The Lowe’s near me is rarely busy. This means my Christmas shopping can be done rather conveniently. Parking is plentiful. The cashiers are stress free and happy. Gift cards are impersonal you say? I don’t think so. I have three girls to buy for. They all have different tastes and styles. It’s easier if they purchase what they want instead of what I think they want. I don’t have the mental capacity to shop for each individual; it’s too stressful. Mostly I just lose my shit in crowded stores. I hate shopping on a good day never mind during this season.

The thing I do enjoy about Christmas is the party. I love a good party. Mike and I cook a huge feast and the booze flows abundantly. People are in and out all day long. I love relaxing with friends and family.

I f*cking heart sunshine!

I used to hate living in Florida. In my old life it was a miserable place. It's not anymore. True unconditional love has opened my eyes and my heart to the beautiful place that is now home. Until I met Mike it didn't feel like home. I can now appreciate the abundant sunshine and greenery and flowers and gardens. It rarely gets cold here. Cold is relative to where you live. I put a sweater on when it's 70 outside; my sister dons a t-shirt. We are currently experiencing a cooler front and that is ok. I get to wear sweaters and fuzzy socks. I get to snuggle really deep under the blankets. I hug on my man a lot more. It will be back up in the low 80s on Monday. Perfect timing as I have some work to do in the garden.

My garden is coming along nicely. We have little jalepenos and tomatoes growing. My lettuce is loving the cool temps. My strawberries are starting to creep. I think it is time to remove them to their own container now, while they're still young. I hear they take over if not constantly tended to. I plan to grab a half whiskey barrel and plant them in there. They will have plenty of room and it will look pretty. I find something to put in their place.

I would love to expand my garden but in its current location that isn't possible. I want to be able to plant a lot more stuff. I have thousands of heirloom seeds just waiting to go. I have some wonderful squashes, cucumbers and corn, etc. I would love to do a huge garden. We have the room in another area of the property but it is currently overgrown with brush. We would need to clear it all out and then rototill it; that is if we don't have to grind stumps. I think just clearing it would be fine and then I could do raised beds. They don't need to be all that level. They would be just like us, a little twisted. How appropriate for my garden.

Bucket o' Blood

I went to the doctor today. He upped my dosage of Prozac. Yay me. I did that a week ago. I feel pretty good actually. Yesterday I bought my Christmas tree. Today I actually decorated it. Yes Mom, it has lights and balls and everything on it. I even have my angel on top of my tree.

The angle was my grandfather’s. I called him Bumpa. He was a great man. When I was little he was my favorite playmate. Seems like the old lady was always getting pissed at us and kicking us outside. We spent many a weekend together. Bumpa is my mother’s father. He was a huge man easily standing 6’4” and built like a skyscraper. He was a master carpenter. He worked construction his whole life. He built shopping malls, the Mass Turnpike and even Seabook Nuclear Plant. He was a hard worker. When he was young he was a hard drinker. Around about the time I came along he had mellowed a bit but that didn’t stop him from throwing a Massachusetts State Trooper through a plate glass window at the “Bucket o' Blood”.

Bumpa’s benders were epic. He would come home on a Friday night after being at work out of town all week and give my grandmother some of his paycheck and disappear with the rest. He would routinely lose his car. Inevitably, we would find it parked outside of some seedy joint. He hung with a rough crowd but he had a heart of gold. He had a habit of bringing home strays. I mean dogs and people. You never really knew who was going to show up for dinner whether it be a stray cat or some dude down on his luck. That was Lou’s (that was his God given name) way. He was always helping the down trodden.

He was one of the best playmates I’ve ever had. We didn’t play dolls and crap like that (although he would of). We played construction site. I used to take his chalk line and snap chalk all over my grandmother’s sidewalks. She would pitch such a fit. He loved it. My Bumpa taught me how to drive a nail into a 2 x 4 with one shot. I practiced that so many times until I finally mastered it. I was psyched and he was all hugs and smiles. I had impressed him.

Another thing we used to do is go get bread for Sunday dinner. Sunday dinner was a big affair where all family members showed up. It didn’t matter that my Nonnie couldn’t cook for shit. We were all always there on Sunday. I’m very fond of those memories. On Saturday afternoons the old lady would send me and Bumpa out for bread. Now mind you the bakery was only 2 minutes from the house but our outings lasted hours. We would stop at Harold’s Package Store and buy a 12 pack so that Bump had beer while we drove around. We would just take rides. We would get lost for hours. I had some of my best philosophical conversations of my life on those rides. Bumpa was a simple man with a very old soul. He taught me many invaluable lessons and left me with many of his witticisms that I still use today.

Girls' Night In

So, I decided to play doctor and adjust my meds myself. I went up 20 milligrams on my Prozac. I started that a few days ago in anticipation of my appointment on Monday where the doctor is going to do exactly what I did, up my dosage. I have to say I’m feeling a bit better. I know that it will take a couple of weeks for me to feel normal again. As it is, I actually feel like socializing again and that’s after only a few days.

It’s just me and Mike’s girls this weekend. We have girls’ nights planned for tonight and Sunday and tomorrow I’m going to the zoo with my mom. Dianna, my oldest daughter, and Jessica, my youngest daughter will be here tonight. I love both those girls. I guess we’ll just hang out and talk and maybe watch movies while Di and I sip wine. It will be a nice time. I love watching the interaction between the two sisters. They are awesome.

On Sunday night I’m going to have a girls’ night with Kat, my middle daughter. Kat has a seriously crazy busy life. She is raising a five year old on her own. Well, actually, we are all raising him. She finally has a night off on Sunday so she is going to come over and hang out. She has a lot of turmoil going on in her life so we are planning for a major bitch fest.

It’s funny having daughters now. Pete and I chose not to have kids. When I got Mike I got a whole slew of them. I love being a mom. I love being a friend to them. They are three very distinct personalities. They are all strong, independent women. I can’t wait to enjoy their company.

I forgot how I was going to end this blog.

I hear the kids in the school yard a couple of blocks over. I can picture them running with smiles on their faces and shrieking with laughter. I find no joy in it. Instead it is just noise to me. It should bring about feelings of bliss and contentment that at least on this block there is joy in the world. It makes me sad that I can't feel that. I'm perched on a fine line right now. I have two choices; keep hanging on to the light or just give in to this depression. It's tiring fighting it all the time. I just want to sleep until it is over.

Sleep comes in clumps of hours. I keep waking up from nightmares. My nerves are raw and tattered from not sleeping peacefully the last few nights. I hate when the dreams occur. They are weird. They are like watching a sitcom about everyday life and it is staring me and Pete. The problem with this is that he looks like he did the day I found him hanging. He's pasty and blue and his lips are black and his eyes are always closed and bulging. It really fucks me up. That's the PTSD kicking in because I'm depressed. Oh joy; not. So I need to do something to knock myself completely out. Fortunately I know how to do that. I'll max out my sleep meds again and I won't dream or remember anything.

I have to send myself text messages so that I remember to do things. I send myself grocery lists, names of books I want to read and names of movies I want to see. I have to because I don't seem to have much in the way of short term memory. My memory sucks. I need to start doing luminosity or some such shit because apparently reading constantly is not cutting it in the exercise your brain department.

I forgot how I was going to end this blog. There was something else I was going to tell you, but I can't remember what it was. Oh, well. Time for another glass of soothing herbal tea.

One down. One to go.

I survived Turkey Day. I don’t really remember much of it not because I was drinking but because I was anxious. Anxiety wrecks everything. I don’t know why I was having a bout of social anxiety. I knew everyone there very well. They were all family. I still had to try pretty hard to be marginally social. I think I did ok. I don’t remember. That’s one of a myriad of problems I have. When I am depressed or anxious I don’t remember things. Entire days pass and I don’t remember them. I have to text myself reminders because it seems like I live a day, fall asleep and wake up and don’t remember anything. I’ve cut down on sleep meds so I don’t think they are the culprit. I think it is just the way I am wired. So, I guess you could say I loved Thanksgiving Day because nobody knows any different. Next up is Christmas. I dread Christmas.

I don’t know why I hate Christmas so much. I always have. Again I think it is a crowd thing except now you have to do gifts which is even more stressful. I hate performance stress. What am I going to get them? Are they going to like it? Is it enough? For many years that part or the holiday was missing from my life. It felt good. For years, when my husband was alive, we had stress free Christmas Days. It was nice. Our gift to our friends was food and hospitality. We used to host the Misfits Christmas at our hours. I would roast a prime rib and put together all the fixings and all our friends that didn’t have anywhere to go came to my house and we had a giant party. It was great; lots of laughs and lots of booze. Now I have a family again.

Mike has a slew of kids. Three of his daughters live in the immediate area and we have my Mom and Dad down here at this time of the year now so we do the family thing. I’ll probably try to cook a rib roast (Mike takes over. I should be grateful that he loves to cook.) And we’ll do presents. That’s where the stress comes in. Ugh! That pressure to perform. I should really not give two shits what they think. They should be happy with anything that I can afford to purchase them. I could really fuck them up and make homemade gifts this year; bath salts and body lotion for everyone, maybe some candles. They might really like that. I don’t know. I think a small gift to open and a gift card will suffice. I wouldn’t be so freaked out by this if my mood were better.

The new/old antidepressant is starting to work, but the dosage isn’t high enough. I go back to Dr. V on the 9^th for an adjustment. He just has to bring me up to 40 mg. I seriously need it and I don’t want to end up in the hospital on New Years again like last year. That was a trip. Dr. V was on vacation and the blow hard that was my doctor threatened to get a court order to lock me up. I had no choice but to voluntarily stay and make the best of it. I was there for six days. I read 7 books. I was in with the really mental people. I was on suicide watch which means they check on you every 10 minutes. That means that every 10 minutes all night long someone opens your door and shines a light in your face. Tell me that won’t make you fucking nuts. I finally started leaving my door open so that there was nothing to creak or worse yet, slam. Nothing like being suicidally depressed and sleep deprived. It makes for some fun group therapy conversations. What they did do was immediately max out my meds and within a couple of days I felt fine. They still wouldn’t let me out. They would not let me out until I was seen by my own doctor. He came in on his day off to discharge me. It was as simple as that but it scared me. I don’t want to ever go back there again. So, I won’t. This year I’ll keep it together somehow. I’ll talk about it before it gets critical and I will try to lighten up on myself about Christmas. After all, I can only give it my best.

The Academy Award for Best Actress Goes To...

Depression sucks! It's dark, it's lonely and it hurts. I'm tired and both my soul and body ache. I feel like I'm coming down with a cold but I know I'm not. I know it is just the chemical imbalance rocking my brain. Irregular circuitry that misfires and sends the wrong signals. I hate feeling like shit. I hate that I get really bitchy. I hate that I am angry. I hate that I hate anything. I hate the holidays. This depression couldn't have happened at a worse time. I'm supposed to be loving and thankful and all I want to do is pull the covers over my head and let the day pass. Unfortunately, I don't have that luxury. The party is at my house.
 
"Attitude is the difference between ordeal and adventure." I don't know who said that but it couldn't have come at a better time. I have a choice to make tomorrow. I can be anxious and depressed or I can put on an Oscar worthy performance and be dazzling. I choose to shine and I will so after shot gunning a couple of beers. That's right, I beginning the celebration early. I should wake up around 10:30 and start drinking. If it's the only way to get through it then self-medicate me baby! I don't mean that I'm going to get fucked up. I'm totally not stable enough for that. I'll just maintain a slight buzz; just enough to take the edge off and make for a good time.

Kindles and shopping and bunnies, oh my!

I feel like Eyeore today, “Oh, bother”. I got up this morning before the alarm went off. I grabbed my Kindle Fire and promptly dropped it. It landed face down on the tile and the screen broke. It is a spider web of cracks. I was so sad. Then I found out that I can fix it myself. I just need like twenty eight bucks for a new screen and I should be able to fix it with a little help from eHow. Whew! Thank dog it can be fixed. I couldn’t live without it. As it is I can still read on it which makes me happy because I read all night while I’m working.

I haven’t really felt like working lately. I haven’t felt like doing much of anything. I do however think that the new old meds are starting to work. I have a little more energy and enthusiasm. Ok, not really but I’m trying to convince myself otherwise. I’m trying to pull off that whole, “fake it till you make it”. It’s not really working for me. Still, I try. I did leave the house a few times this weekend and last Wednesday I went shopping with my mom.

I lost a lot of weight so all my clothes were hanging off of me. I really needed some new things and Momma Bear needed retail therapy so she brought me out to the mall. Now normally I would just duck into JC Penney really quick, grab a couple of things and then leave. We did go to Penney’s and then the shoe store and then we walked to the other end of the mall to Macy’s. I did really well. I didn’t get panicky at all. I think having my mom there with me helped immensely. She understands what I go through. Anyway, we had a lot of fun and a wonderful lunch afterwards. I really enjoyed myself. I hadn’t been out with my mom in a long time. I love her.

You know I don’t get out much. Part of it is because my car is broken. Blown heads. Major bummer. Mike was able to find remanufactured heads that were relatively inexpensive. They should arrive today. Hopefully this weekend Mike will have time to fix my car. I have been without it since May. I miss being able to just go. I don’t really know where I will go. I guess I just miss my independence; which is kind of funny when you think about the fact that I suffer from social and generalized anxiety. I don’t really want to interact with other people on a mass scale. I would rather have friends over to visit. I guess it will just be nice to have the option of going for a ride or whatever.

We have a new addition to our household. We have a baby rabbit that my step daughter found in the rose bushes. It is only a couple of weeks old and needs to be fed with an eyedropper. Of course we had to run out and pick up a cage and some hay and some baby blankets to keep it warm. We also had to pick up some cat milk replacement formula to feed the cute little baby. He sleeps a lot and was a hungry little devil when I fed him this morning. He sucked down four droppers full in no time. He or she for that matter is so cute and so soft. It is so small that at first I thought it was a huge mouse. So, I have another project; trying to keep the bunny alive. I shall do my best.

“I said I was smart. I never said I had my shit together.” ~ Unknown

This is so me lately. I am having the hardest time keeping my shit together. I really just want to stay in bed. I want to crawl under the blankets and curl up with my Kindle. I know I have to be patient and let science do its thing, but I don’t have to like it. Or, rather I do. I have to keep my shit together. I am just lost lately; lost inside of myself. I pace the halls of my brain, seeking sunshine and glitter and hearts and flowers. It is pretty dark in here lately; much like looking at a black and white photo. Everything is in gray tones. I need the color back. I need the sunshine.

Tomorrow I’m going to try some retail therapy with my Mom. I need some new things. Most of my clothes are too big. I’ve begun cleaning out my drawers. I really need to get to the closet. I need to make a clothing donation soon.

I think shopping with my Mom will be good. She makes me laugh and she has anxiety like me so she’s cool with bailing on a store at a moments notice. Sometimes there is just too much chaos or a creepy vibe and I just need to get out of there. It doesn’t happen frequently but when it does I need to flee. Mom understands this. She’s totally cool. I can’t wait to spend some quality girl time with her. It’s been so long. I’ve missed her.

Miscellany and Chickens

I saw Dr. V on Friday. We added Prozac back into my cornucopia of pharmaceuticals. Hey I guess what ever keeps me alive. I have to take it with my Celexa for a couple of weeks to give it a chance to start working. It takes time for the medicine to build up in your brain and begin working. So, I begin the long process that leads to relief. It will be a long haul. The good doctor only gave me 20 mg. I was on 60 mg of Prozac when he changed my meds. I will need to build back up to the 60 mgs. I have to do it slowly or risk screwing up my system really badly. I hate this long wait because I know what it feels like to feel good. I hate to wait.

I have finally started my garden. That should keep me distracted. I bought plants. The puppy ate over half of them so Mike had to buy me new ones. I have tomato, strawberry, jalapeño peppers, and lettuce, so far. They are doing well and growing fast. I will be expanding the garden soon. I have heirloom seeds on order. I can’t wait to start cultivating them. I’m using a technique to start them that I learned in kindergarten. How funny is that? I can’t believe I still remember but the technique works great. I have already started some herbs that way. We’re on our way to becoming a little more self sufficient. Next I want chickens.

My friend R has a couple of chickens that produce eggs for her and her husband. Chickens are relatively easy to keep. I just need Mike to build me a coop. Unfortunately he has way too much going on right now. So, I guess the chickens will have to wait. He is working a crazy amount of hours lately. I worry about him. I’m glad that he had a chance to relax this weekend. He has been doing 70 hour weeks and was supposed to work Saturday and Sunday of this weekend. His company decided he had too many hours already and cancelled the weekend shifts. We could use the money but seeing him relax and enjoy himself is priceless.

We pretty much started celebrating on Friday when he got home and quit early Sunday evening. We had a great weekend with friends constantly in and out. We spent Sunday with a couple of friends and had a wonderful time. H, thanks for the awesome dinner you cooked. Now it’s back to the grind with each of us putting in tons of hours at our respective jobs.  

Big sigh.

Wow, it’s been a whole week since I wrote anything. It’s been a whole week since I have felt anything except Mike’s love. I’m pretty numb right now. I am really close to being in a full blown depression. I’m no longer angry. I’m rather just resigned right now. I’m in limbo; caught between bliss and the dark abyss. I’m holding on really tight and keeping my shit together. Only two more days and I will see the good Dr and get my brain chemistry balanced out.

 
I wish I could explain how I feel. Going through this slide this time is different. I feel like I have to keep my chin up and drag my ass out of bed and be a productive member of society. I do this because I know that Mike is counting on me to be ok. I know I can do this.

Fuck Depression!

Here we go on coffee number two. It’s actually my second quadruple espresso today. I am so worn out. I think working late nights is catching up with me. I normally work Sunday through Thursday until 2 am. The last couple of weekends I have worked on Friday and Saturday nights from 9 pm until 8 am as well because the weekend dispatcher has been ill. I think I need a day off. I also need my meds adjusted.

I have been a real bitch lately. I mean, not all the time but later in the evening I will punch you in the throat. I’m exhausted and cranky. I know part of it is the schedule I keep. I know that an even bigger part of it is that my new anti-depressant isn’t cutting it. A couple of months back the good Dr changed my meds in an attempt to save me money. He said that this medication is better anyways because it is not stimulating like the other one. No shit it isn’t stimulating; it’s putting me to sleep. I don’t like it one bit so, I called to make an appointment to see Dr. V. Unfortunately, he is booked solid. I can’t get in before my appointment on the 27^th. I have been put on the waiting list in hopes that someone cancels. The thing about that is I will need notice so that I can have access to a vehicle to get to his office. He won’t switch my meds unless I go see him or Mike calls him. Time to pull out the big guns and have my man make the call.

Mike and Dr. V have a good relationship. It is one of mutual respect and trust. If Mike calls the good doctor and tells him that I need to be put back on my old meds, chances are the doctor will just call in a script and I will be good to go. Dr. V knows that if Mike is calling him then Wendy is having a melt down. I’m not. I’m fine but I don’t know for how long. For now supplementing my meds with herbs is working but, I’m going to play my ace and have Mike call before things get out of hand. I don’t need another trip to the looney bin although; it has been almost a year since I last lost my mind. I wonder if the same people still work there. I digress. I am not going there. I’m not even close to being there so, nobody panic. Yes Mom, this means you. I joke about being hospitalized but it isn’t funny. Ok, yeah, it is a little.

To meet me I don’t think you would ever guess anything was wrong with me. I mean I’m quirky and all but, I don’t appear unstable. I’ve met many fellow bi-polars and thought, “Thank dog I have my shit together and am not like that.” I really do have my shit together for the most part. I’m all about peace and love. I'm of above average intelligence. I’m all about good friends and celebrations. I think the biggest thing that is wrong with me is that I don’t have a normal job. I used to. I don’t anymore. Now I have a very strange career that really doesn’t at all fit my personality. Ok, maybe it does.

I don’t really like people much. I say that a lot. My job requires me to speak to strangers about the most depraved shit on the planet. I don’t really like what I do and most often exclaim, “Oh, fuck me!” when the phone rings but, the sound of the phone ringing means money. So I enthusiastically dive into my job because it is my job to be a fucking people person. I do everything with enthusiasm because that’s the way I was raised.

Today I am having a hard time being enthusiastic about my job. It figures too because I have been busy this morning. I’m happy about the money, it’s just that I’m feeling rather introverted today. I would like nothing more than to climb into my bed with a good book and just relax all day. I could do that, having done my chores, my job search and my workout already. I could just curl up with the phone and my Kindle. I’m not into talking and I think that is because I am lost in another book.

I love free books. This week I scored a few good ones. The book that I am reading now is the biography of an Iranian girl who is born in the 40’s in Iran and comes to the USA as a young college student. It is fascinating from a cultural perspective. It is not a very happy book but I couldn’t help myself from becoming immersed in this lady’s world. The author does a wonderful job of making the reader feel like part of her world not like an outsider looking in. It is called the Caspian Diary and is written by J.M. Sandler. I highly recommend it.

Knowing How It Feels Changes Your Perspective

“You’ve been in darkness, loneliness, and nothingness for so long. And one day, without noticing it, you’ll be moving into the sun, and in love with the world, and you’ll be glad you’re still here.” ~ Unknown

I’m glad I’m still here. If not for luck and a lot of love I wouldn’t be. Depression is a deep dark pit of despair. There is no light, there is no love, there is only the echo of the terrible thoughts in your head. Depression is lonely. It is isolating. It is tiring. Your very soul aches. Everything is painful. The present looks bleak and you don’t even think about the future other than to hope you don’t see it. The pain becomes excruciating. You pray for it to end. It is at this point that you are dying to be free of the nightmares that are your own irrational thoughts. Sometimes you hold on. You have too. Others are counting on you to make it. Sometimes you give up and leave a wide debris path when you extinguish that pain forever.

My husband, Pete, died by suicide. He was depressed, he was anxious and he was paranoid. I tried to get him help but it was too late. Two weeks into beginning a stint with antidepressants he hung himself. It was a terrifying ordeal. I have never felt pain that deep. It shattered my world. I spent eighteen years of my life loving him and now he was gone. You just don’t do that to people you love. I know how great his pain was. I have been there myself. I never would have guessed how damaging suicide is to those you leave behind.

I curled up into the fetal position both literally and figuratively. I just went through the motions of daily life and self medicated as much as possible. I dreaded waking up in the morning. I felt like, “Fucking great! I woke to see another day. Yay me. Not?” You see the truth is that at that point I just wanted to die. I prayed that I would. I prayed I would just die in my sleep of a broken heart. I now knew the great depth of pain that Pete felt when he decided to commit suicide. I now understood his despair. It killed me that he had been in that much pain, but then so had I.

I spent several months on auto-pilot. I made a lot of poor decisions. My moods were all over the place. Then I sort of stabilized. Sort of. I think I became hypo-manic. It is not a full blown manic episode it is just a heightened state of euphoria. It was during this period that I met Mike. I honestly don’t know why he is still with me. I did everything I could think of to push him away. He wouldn’t budge. Mike is my saint. He swooped in, scooped up all the broken pieces of my heart and put me back together. It was not smooth sailing. I was the mess I was because of what I had been through in addition to being bi-polar and Mike was a mess from having been used and fucked over so many times. We knew we were in love but we fought hard against it. Then one day everything just magically clicked into place. It’s like the clouds parted for me and suddenly I was living in abundant white light.

My relationship with Mike is easy and loving. I love him unconditionally as he does me. There is a strong trust in our relationship. We love like old souls reconnected. I bask in the glow of our love and everything in my world seems just fine.  

Love and Some of the Best People Ever.

“Ego forgives and punishes. Love forgives and heals.” ~ 365 Wisdom Pills

I have been trying to forgive someone for a long time but I don’t really like this person. I have felt bad about not letting go. I came across this quote in one of my free eBooks. I realize that I need to forgive to heal myself and not worry about the other person. See, I’m all about love lately. It is an easier way to live. So I guess that I will forgive this person in my heart, not to their face, and let it go. I will never let this person back into my life but I will release the bad feelings I have about them.

I’ve started reading a couple of new books. One is the book that I took the opening quote from. It is a series of mantras, one a day. Kind of like taking vitamins for your heart. It is new age stuff with a timeless method as is the other book I began. The other book is called “We are Human Angels”. It is the companion to 365 Wisdom Pills. I seem to be on this quest for balance and serenity lately. I’m doing pretty well. I am very happy and have an abundance of love in my life but there is just something missing inside of me. I’m also trying to like people. So, it is time for some soul searching with the guidance of some angels.

I may have said this before but, in general people suck. I don’t venture out into the world very often but when I do I hate it. I am nice to strangers. I smile and what not but, I do not like it. I don’t know where this aversion to people comes from. I guess I’ve always kind of been a loner. I have had and still do have spectacular people in my life. I have friends and family that I adore. I got to spend some time this weekend with people I really love and whose company I enjoy.

Mike killed a gator so we had to have a party. We had fresh gator tail, salads, and chicken and pork from the smoker. The best part about the party were the people. My mom and dad where here. I haven’t seen them since last October. It was great to get hugs from two of my favorite people. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed them.

More than a few friends stopped by. People were in and out all afternoon. I was psyched when a couple of old friends showed up. I hadn’t seen him since March and her even longer. It was fun catching up and reminiscing about old times. I so enjoyed their company. I was happy to be surrounded by people that I adore and I know accept me for who I am.

PTSD and Leadership or The Lack There Of

Except for the attitude adjustment that I have needed the last couple of days I’ve been feeling great for a long time. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I’ve been in a state of pure bliss lately. I think that comes with accepting that this is my reality. I can wish for more. I can try for more but, ultimately, it is what it is.

All things considered, life is pretty damn good. I am madly in love and other than worrying about money, I haven’t a care in the world. My anxiety is mostly gone and I haven’t had a flashback in months. I don’t know where this ability to let go manifested itself. I can only think that it comes partly from the hypnosis sessions that I went through with a therapist. I have just ripped a session off of a dvd and onto my iPod. I am going to enjoy having it within hands reach. I love how I feel after a session. It sooths the beast that is PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). I have noticed that lately it is trying to rear its ugly head.

My PTSD is mostly the result of finding my husband dead. He had been hanging for about 12 hours so you can imagine what a fucking mess that was. I used to live with daily flashbacks. Oh those paralyzing moment when it all comes crashing back through your conscious mind. You see it. You hear it. You smell it. You feel it. It is all flashing back to you and you think it is happening all over again. It is terrifying. When I am highly stressed it hits me over and over again. I haven’t been stressed out in a few months. Sure, I worry about things but I’m not riddled with anxiety like I am when I have to interact with a lot of people on a daily basis. I am starting to think that I really don’t like people much. I have a small little happy world with a warm group of family and friends that I love. I don’t want to be subjected to a myriad of personalities each day. I like my quiet week days. I have no problem being alone. The thought of going back to office work terrifies me but I know I have to do it.

It’s hard to have a good time while working in the corporate world. I suppose for that to happen you would have to be truly passionate about what you do. I know that to be the truth. I used to work on the Space Shuttle Program. I was part of a group that made history. It was an amazing experience; one that will never be duplicated. See, I’ve had the best of the best. No job will ever come close. I left the human space program and jumped into the defense sector. It sucked. Don’t get me wrong, the things I experienced in that job were once in a life time experiences but they certainly weren’t as meaningful. I think that has to do with the people I was working for. Except for my direct manager, nobody had shit for leadership skills. I was not used to that. I was used to “rally the troops” enthusiastic leadership. We were a team. Not so much in the business of war. These people had been military Generals and I was like, “seriously?” They are terrible at what they do. Not the company itself, the everyday employees really do believe in what they do but it is because of a sense of camaraderie not inspiration from management. I can’t work like that. I can’t work for a bunch of assholes.

Update to I'm so damn tired

It's PMS. Mike just confirmed it. He also said it is lack of a normal sleep schedule and not enough activity. So, I have set the alarm, prepared my nightly meds so that I can take them an hour before I go to bed and charged up my iPod so that I have tunes while I ride my bike tomorrow. Maybe I will ride Jessie's bike around the block a couple of times. Yeah, I like that, exercise in the sunlight. Sounds like I have a pretty good plan to pull me out of this slump. I also have chocolate and beer.

I'm so damn tired!

So much for “me time”. It was a good plan however; I have fallen short of meeting my goal of having two good hours to do whatever I want in the morning. I have been so tired the last few days. I have been sleeping until noon. Granted, I do go to bed at 2 am and don’t usually fall asleep for a couple of hours. This morning it was 4:15 the last time I looked at the clock. I woke up this afternoon at noon. The same thing happened yesterday. I don’t know why I’m so tired. The only things I can attribute it to are the new antidepressant I am on and PMS.

Last month I switched antidepressants. I was on Prozac and it was costing me about $55 per month. My doctor switched me to Celexa because it only cost $10 for a ninety day supply. He said it was better than Prozac. It is not. At least I don’t think it is. I’m on month number 2 and I’m not feeling so great. It could be my late night hours catching up with me but, I don’t think so. It could be PMS but, I never had that on Prozac. The big problem is I can’t just go back to the old meds without a visit to the good doctor. It will require an office visit. An office visit will cost me $75. I don’t have that right now. So, I guess I’ll have to just ride it out. Maybe it will sort itself out on its own. It’s only been six weeks. And this exhaustion is new. It is just in the last couple of days that I am just plain beat.

I’m on my second quadruple espresso of the day. It isn’t helping. I just want to crawl back into bed and sleep a blissful few more hours. It is not to be. I’m dispatching for a hours this afternoon so, no nap for me. I’m hoping the issue resolves itself soon. I like having me time in the morning. This makes day two that I haven’t sunned myself. I need the sunshine. It recharges me. I guess after I’m done dispatching I’ll go take a nap in the hammock. That should make me feel better. I can only hope this passes soon.

Hey Momma Bear, Don't read this post

It’s about midnight and I’m dispatching and it blows. I’ve had a few calls, all of them hang ups. Is the economy suffering so bad that the pervs aren’t even spending money getting their rocks off? This industry usually doesn’t fall off; maybe it is the company I’m working for. I have thought of moving on but, this company guarantees me a specific pittance. Be it ever so small, it does pay for my meds. I really shouldn’t complain because today my skanks actually got me some calls. They were repeat customers so, that was nice. One of them is just fascinated by my job and asks me all kinds of questions about it. Turns out he is a sociology major doing research. I’m down with that. I’ll tell him anything he wants to know except my real name.  He is always looking for a story. He wants to hear about my most depraved calls. I think he does get off on it, but whatever, he’s paying me. Today I had a good story for him. The call before him was a guy that thought I looked like his little sister (one of my characters! I don’t use my own pics. That’s a whole other story I will tell later.) and he just totally wants to do his sister. You cringe but it is a very common theme. People are into some fucked up things.

The company I work for is a no taboo company. That means that no matter how fucked up a customer request is you are supposed to roll with it. I can handle that. It’s not me after all; it is one of my characters. It is easy to stay detached. You just have to play a roll. I have five characters. The owner of the company just picks chicks from his collection and assigns them too you. I assure you that he scraped the bottom of the barrel when he scratched up my lot. They are a motley bunch. They range from Cherish the barely legal to Ava the hot grandma.  You may laugh but Ava does well with the younger guys. One of my girls, Brittney, gets most of the action because that’s who I tell people I am when I’m dispatching. They are hearing a sexy voice and not thinking about what Brittney looks like. They like the voice, they request a call, and they get hooked. It’s as simple as that. Truth be told, Britt looks like she is on meth. She’s got that look in her eye. She’s pasty and skinny and her pigtails are a stringy mess. I don’t know why I picked her as my dispatching persona. She’s totally trashy.  All my “ladies” are. I use that term loosely. They are a bunch of dirty mouthed bitches.

See, I will talk about anything. I will get dirty to the point of leaving a guy speechless and hopefully breathless. I get paid to deliver mind blowing fantasies. The quicker the better. I strive for the five minute quickie.  They have paid me up front so I might as well get it over with as soon as possible. I have to regulate that though because I get paid according to the block of time they have bought. The more time, the more money. So, I have to play with them a little bit so that they will buy longer blocks of time. I alternate between super quickies and long, slow, filthy seductions. I hate the seduction. It is too arduous. I’d rather just put the pedal to the metal and rock and roll!

PLOT TWIST!

Mike just got called out on a trouble ticket. I am pleased to see my most favorite person ever. He works too hard. That’s why I do what I do. I do the best I can and phone sex seems to be just that, the best I can do right now. I couldn’t even score the job at the liquor store for $9.00 an hour. A lot of good my fucking bachelor’s degree is doing me. I graduated with a 3.9 average after taking full time classes while working fulltime and commuting an hour each way. I know! Yay, me!  I rocked a very intense program like it was child’s play and it does nothing for me. I’m either over qualified or under qualified. There are no jobs in the middle down here.

So, I have become a house wife of sorts. I am a domestic fucking goddess! I have recently gotten a bug up my as about the house looking nice. I cleaned the fuck out of this place this afternoon and it still looks like gypsies live here. The once pristine floor is totally trashed again. It is every night. It comes to night fall and we let the critters inside and the place gets tore up. We have four dogs. Two are rather large pitbull puppies. They are a terror team. They come skidding sideways looking to eat and you are damned if you are in their way. They are like hockey players; bump and run. Tomorrow morning I will have a repeat of this morning. I will once again sweep and mop the floor after I throw the hoodlums outside. Then I’m going to detail my man’s chopper. It’s a bit of a Frankenstein, but it is starting to come together. That is after I bake my man chocolate chip cheesecake brownies. See, domestic Goddess!

The need to unplug

Sunday night and I’m dispatching. That means 7 hours of playing on digital devices. I am way too plugged in. Unless I’m sleeping then I am looking at one of three electronic devices that I possess. Today I came to the conclusion that being “on” that much is becoming harmful to me. I live inside of a digital world. Except for one hour of the day I am inside. Every morning around 11:30 I go lie in my hammock and catch some rays. The sunshine is really good for me. It nourishes my soul. It gives me vitamin D. It caresses my skin. For that one hour I meditate. So I am in an alternate state. I realized that I am not living in the moment. I’m always distracting myself and not always with the right stuff.

I have “liked” several pages on Facebook that have to do with being bipolar in a way to keep me tuned in to what is new with my disease. I have found these sites to be damaging as it seems that they are all trashing the use of meds to maintain. I can’t imagine myself without medication. No, not true; I know who I am when I am not on meds and I am one hot mess. I don’t want to be like that. So, if it means being a good little girl and buying into the big pharmaceutical companies I have to do it. I can not be trusted without meds. I don’t mean that I am deceitful; I mean that my moods cycle so rapidly that they get mixed and I just become pissed off. I do pissed very well. I can be the most evil bitch. I think the most frightening things and I start hearing voices. Yikes! It’s either that or I become super manicky. This can be a mixed blessing. I have tons of energy, require little sleep and hear voices. When I’m on meds I’m just sort of normal. I like normal Wendy. She is a good person.

I like being on an even keel. I like enjoying things in the moment. That’s why I need to unplug more. I have set aside a couple of hours a day for just myself. I can sun myself and exercise and take some time for me. I like the idea. From 11 till 1 will be Wendy time. Yeah, I like that idea just fine.

Sudafed and St. Francis of Assisi

It’s been over a week since my last post. Not really much has happened because I got sick and because I don’t get out much. I came down with some sort of sinus issue that left me with a headache that was worse than a migraine. I was afraid that I would have to go to the doctor. This is a luxury that I can not afford so, on Mike’s advice I loaded up on Sudafed and allergy meds. I was down and out for four days. I’m happy to say that I feel marvelous now. I was afraid it was a sinus infection because I had bouts of hot and cold sweats. I thank my lucky stars that it was merely allergies. The Sudafed worked like a charm. Within a half hour of taking it the headache was gone. Unfortunately, it made me speed my brains out.

Sudafed works much like ADHD meds. I compare it to Adderall. It made me extremely focused but unable to sleep through the night. That took its toll on me as I work until 2 AM and usually don’t get to bed till 3 and I was waking up at 5:00 then tossing and turning only to fall asleep for another hour. Of course it affected my mood. I was in sort of a mixed state and maybe a little bitchy. I’m not sure I was really that much of a bitch. I think I was just too tired to deal.

So, I haven’t really done much more than read. I’m back to devouring at least one ebook a day. I love to read but I get too pulled in. The focus that the Sudafed gave me allowed me to totally immerse myself into different worlds without distraction. I can get so into a book or a character that it is hard to pull myself out. I find myself wanting to stay in that imaginary world and most times am sad when a book is finished. I’m lucky enough to have found several free sources to feed my passion for reading. My Kindle is well stocked. Reading free books means that I am reading about a variety of topics. I read whatever is free and somewhat appealing. In the last week I have read romantic comedies, historical fiction and even a biography on St. Francis of Assisi. There are so many worlds to explore. I’m thankful to my mom for teaching me to read at such a young age and for instilling in me a love of reading.

 
Speaking of my mom, she and my daddy are back in Florida for the next several months. I can’t wait to see them. They got in on Wednesday and will be staying until sometime in May of next year. I’ve missed them. So, I guess it’s time to have a welcome back party. I do love a party and this gives me a reason. I’m not sure when it will be because I don’t know if Mike is on call this weekend or not. Maybe we will just have a quiet picnic with just the four of us and if Mike gets called out he’ll just have to go. When he is on call we can’t have one of our wild get togethers because Mike can’t really drink. First of all he has to drive. Second and even more dangerous is that he has to work with a chainsaw around live electrical wires. There isn’t a lot of room for errors there so it is best that he is sober while doing so.

Wow! Having just reread this it is apparent that I am no longer on speed. My ADHD brain is up to its usual tricks and leading all over the place. Maybe I should address this with my doctor. I kind of like being focused. The big concern that he has is that ADHD meds can be stimulating and might exacerbate my anxiety. I don’t need that. So I have to pick and choose carefully. I would much rather be daffy and all over the place than panic stricken. With that said, I think I will conclude this installment because I don’t know what other tangents I may go off on. The possibilities are endless.

Public Service Announcement or True Confessions?

So, it is Mental Health Awareness Week and seeing that I’m mental I feel like I should throw a party or something. As we have already discussed, I am bi-polar. I am also ADHD, have PTSD, and generalized anxiety disorder. I have everything under control except the anxiety. Well, that’s not entirely true. I now, finally, have my anxiety under control and I am happier than I have ever been. I’m passionately in love and in the absence of constant stress it feels fantastic. The only thing I can attribute that too is that I no longer leaving my home for work. Working in an office is a drag. People pretty much suck. Cube life is stressful especially when you have nothing to do. I used to read on the Kindle app on my phone for 8 hours every day. That’s 40 hours of reading in a week. You spend 40 hours inside another world and you get so engrossed you don’t want to come out. Either that or you are traveling. I traveled every week just so that I could be out of the office. I am thoroughly convinced that working in cubesville with a bunch of people is the cause of my anxiety. Anxiety is a buzzkill!

I lost my corporate gig in March of this year and to date have not found another job outside of the house. Am I sad about this? Not really. Do I miss the big salary that comes with it? Yes, I do. Is it worth it to live with constant anxiety? No, that big paycheck is not worth it. I wish I could make more money working from home. But, alas, the economy sucks and phone sex is not a luxury that many can afford. Things have been slow. It also doesn’t help that my girls look like a bunch of crack whores. Man, they are ugly. I wouldn’t do any one of those bitches. But I digress, we were talking mental health. My job puts me in a good mood most of the time. I’m dispatching at night so that guarantees me an income. It isn’t a stressful job and I’m enjoying being a housewife. I love taking care of Mike. I am on an even keel right now. I have never felt so happy and normal in my whole life. My meds are finely tuned and I no longer have anxiety. I do wish I could get out a little more but, I’m happy spending the day with just the dogs. This week I started lying out in the sun every morning, so I’m thinking my fear of being outside is gone. I never left the house unless it was to go to the supermarket. I was paler than pale and suffering from a vitamin D deficiency. I ask you; how the fuck does someone who lives in The Sunshine State have a vitamin D deficiency? They never go outside that’s how. I used to be afraid to be out in the yard; left over damage from Pete. He had me convinced that I needed to hide or someone would abduct, rape, and kill me. So I hid. I would only go to work and to the grocery store. When I went to work I was totally paralyzed with anxiety. Despite being fucked up, I always excelled; easily earning promotions. I’m not sure how I kept my shit together. I’m not sure how I hid the hospital visits. I used to get locked up every 6 months or so. I used to think that my meds were fucked up, but I think it was an overdose of anxiety. I could only take so much and then I would just snap and want to kill myself. So off to the mental hospital I would go for a 3 day tune up. Nothing causes you to pull your shit together faster than waking up in One Flew Over the Coo Coo’s Nest. I never remember the car ride there. I would just wake up there and think, “Oh fuck, it’s happened again!”

It hasn’t happened since the first of the year. That was a rough ride. I think I spent a total of 5 days in there because my doctor was on vacation and the two attending physicians thought I was still a threat to myself and wouldn’t let me out. I had to wait for my doctor to come back. I suppose they were right to keep me. My anxiety can come off as anger. I was a little intense for them. When my doctor came back we maxed out my meds and I was released. All and all it was a good tune up.

What really got me to feeling better was acceptance of my new reality after the loss of my job. It took a while. It took about 6 months for me to come around. I have accepted my new life and am moving on. I do what I can to get by with a smile on my face. I’m convinced that attitude is everything. I wake with a smile on my face and move about my day in peaceful bliss. It helps that I have a wonderful partner.  I truly am blessed. Mike does crazy very well. I am certain that if it weren’t for his loving care I wouldn’t be alive to write this. Mike understands my moods. He knows me very well and does not hesitate to let me know that I’m getting a little out of hand. He says that’s what people who love each other do. They take care of each other. He takes very good care of me. I am fortunate to have a partner that takes an active role in my mental health. It is important to know that I am not alone in this fight to keep it together. Whereas before I would have crumbled, I now thrive in the face of adversity. That is true understanding. No stigmas.

Are all those conspiracy theorists really that fucked up or do they have a jump on us?

I’m going to teach myself how to can. Of course I need something to can first and a pressure cooker. I’m afraid to buy one. They probably make you produce a license for that. I really need to start my garden. I also need to learn how to bake bread. I want us to be much less reliant on others and more self sustaining. I think this is a pretty smart way to live right now. I don’t say this as some conspiracy theorist nut job. I say this as someone who is concerned about the way the world is changing.

I believe everything happens for a reason. I used to work a high paying corporate job (in, ironically, the defense industry). I got canned from it. I have been out of work since March 26, 2013. Everyday I actively look for a job. Everyday I apply for jobs. I can’t seem to get hired. So, I have a gig as a phone actress and dispatcher. It barley pays for my meds each month but it is at least something. We are doing our damnedest to get by. It has taught us to be very resourceful. See, everything happens for a reason. I think more self reliance in the form of gardens and homemade food would really go a long way for us. You really don’t know what is in the food you by now a days. I think the food supply is contaminating us. I feel so much better when I eat a clean diet. So with this paycheck (hey mom, sound familiar? Next paycheck. LOL) I am going to buy some manure and some plants. It is cooling off here and is the perfect time to plant. I just have to remember to water it.

Watering is easy as Mike has set up sprinklers that cover the garden. I would also like to begin collecting rain water. I know it is illegal but we need a sustainable water supply. We are on a well but that does require electricity for the pump. I love being on well water. There is no fluoride in it. While this has maybe softened my teeth a little, it has rid my body of that toxin. The only fluoride my body gets is from toothpaste. That’s topical at its very best. I’ve read a lot about the toxicity of fluoride and it scares me.

What also scares me is the state of the federal government. It is no longer “We the people…” It is them the rich and corporations. We are at a turning point in the cyclical nature of government. Our republic is no longer. We are turning towards socialism. This is the very government that our forefathers fought against. Will there be a revolution? I don’t know. I hope so. I just want my family to be prepared. So I’ve become sort of a prepper or a hippie. My mom and dad were in the 60’s and 70’s. I have a good background for this shit. Thanks mom and dad.

I damn near broke my neck

Hello. It’s been a while. I’ve been living upside down lately. I’ve been working all night and sleeping during the day. Twelve hour nights are a bitch. Now I’m on a more normal schedule. Well, sort of; I work from 7pm until 2am doing dispatching. I work my girls during the day. Dispatching is funny. People are a trip. Everyone wants something for free. We don’t give away free samples. Give me your credit card or I will hang up on you. I’m funny like that. It weeds out the jerks.

So, I came out of that one sleep deprived week virtually unscathed. I was afraid the hours would trigger a mood swing. I was lucky. It made me a little manicy but I can handle that. I actually have more energy. I did spend a lot of this weekend outside so that could be part of the energy deal. I’m working on getting more sunlight. Mike bought me a bikini this weekend. I’m rocking it pretty good. I feel good and I look good if I do say so myself. I have just one problem; I can’t seem to get into the hammock that Mike set up for me. I just flip out onto the ground. This morning I tried to get into the damn thing and it tossed me out on my ass. Unfortunately it tossed me onto the ground and I hit my head on the metal cross beam. I tried to get in it three times with no joy so I quit before I really got hurt. I need to get an old fashioned lounge chair. One that is low to the ground so that I don’t kill myself.

 I honestly thought I broke my neck this morning. Now I’m treating myself with a heating pad and a muscle relaxer. I can’t turn my head to the right. I’ve also had a sore spot in the middle of my upper back. I’ve had it for about a month now. I don’t know what is up with that. I guess if I had insurance I would go have it checked out but I don’t so I will live with it. Who can afford a doctor? The ACA is supposed to fix that but I hear it cost a lot. High premiums with high deductibles doesn’t sound affordable to me. I guess I’m one of those people that will end up paying the fine for not having signed up. Oh well, such is life. I’m sure I’m not alone in this situation. I personally think Obamacare is going to bankrupt the middle class. I don’t think it is affordable. I think it is just an attempt to enslave citizens. I don’t usually do politics so I’m going to shut up now.

Thank God Mike Came Home. This could have gone on for hours.

What a lovely Sunday. Picture perfect weather and I slept great. I’m glad for the change in mood. I’ve been feeling kind of bitchy all week. That’s not like me but I did just switch antidepressants, so I’ll have to keep that in check. Today I feel wonderful!

I woke up at 6:45 to dispatch for a few hours. It was quiet as usual for that time of day. I did talk to one guy who did a click to call and didn’t connect with the girl. A click to call is generated by one of the company’s many websites. For a lower price guys or girls (I’ll tell you that story another time) can click on a link and be connected to the girl of their choice rather than having to go through the dispatcher. Most times it works. On occasion, like every time I work weird hours when normal people are sleeping, it doesn’t work. Either the actress (yes, we are called actresses) fell asleep and the phone didn’t wake her or she rejected the call. It’s usually because they are asleep. That happened to this poor guy this morning. He absolutely had to talk to “Jane”. Well she rejected his call and then signed off. Maybe she was tired; maybe she didn’t want to talk to this guy. He calls a lot. I smoothed things over and he ended up satisfied with the outcome. Wink, wink.

Mike and one of my beautiful stepdaughters (they are all gorgeous) went to visit Mike’s dad in Boca. Normally I love to go. Today, not so much. I opted not to take the two hour drive. Instead I mowed the lawns. I’ll be working nights and sleeping days this week so today was the day. I don’t mind it. It gives me two hours of sunshine which is great for my vitamin D deficiency. Now you may be wondering why in hell a girl that lives in the Sunshine State has a vitamin D deficiency. Impossible, right? Not so. I don’t really go outside enough. I hide in the house. I should be showing off the lovely olive skin that I have instead of rocking this gothic porcelain that I was born with. I need my hammock back. It would do me good to get a couple hours of natural light per day. Vitamin D is good for the bones and for mood support. It has gotten to the time of the year when the weather is getting just right. Humidity has gone down a notch and the sun is starting to wan. Today there is a lovely breeze and the humidity is only around 97%. It’s perfect. In fact, I’m sitting on my back porch writing this.

I was sitting inside watching the Bucs’ game. That’s usually setting myself up for disappointment but they actually scored on a pick up from a fumble. It was some nice playing. Football is weird for me. I was raised a Patriots fan, married a Bucs fan and, now live with a Giant’s fan. Mike’s cool about my passion for the Bucs (oh, who am I kidding, Mike is cool about everything. I love that man. It wouldn’t be a post without me telling you that. I know it is nauseatingly sweet.) I don’t have to like his team. We usually watch my team. So, I was watching the game and drinking a beer. I know my mom just cringed and said to herself, “No, no, no, no! Tell me she didn’t get into the beer again.”  I get sick every time I hit the sauce. It lands me in bed for the entire next day. I have a plan this time. I figure I might as well be junk all day tomorrow so that I sleep all day and am nice and refreshed to work tomorrow night. Come on! It sounds good in theory. No? I’m only going to have a few beers and some herbal tea and I’ll be just fine. I’m serious. I’ll check in with you at 7am when I get up for my morning dispatching gig. I’ll let you know how this experiment turns out.

I probably will only have a few (not like last Sunday) because milk goes better with chocolate chip cheesecake brownies. Yum! They are chilling right now. My house smells amazing. They are one of Mike’s favorite treats so I figure I’d spoil him a little bit. He deserves it. He has been working his ass off lately. Last night he worked late and I was a little bitchy about it. I need him so much but I understand what he is doing for us. Anyway, he had just finished up a 74 hour week. That’s insane. 74 fucking hours cutting trees at all hours of the day and night. Mike is on call because he will answer his phone and show up. He is one hell of a worker and luckily his bosses get that. They are good to him. Or at least as good as they are allowed to be. They are trying to get him more money. He totally deserves it. Dude works his balls off! Again, I’m a lucky girl. The last one wouldn’t have worked unless I made him.

So, back to the brownies, they are chilling in the beer fridge and Mike just got home so I’m going to just end this now. No follow through. No other ending. I’ve got to go. Big Daddy is home and we have no kids here. Life is grand!

Pimping Jen's Blog

I don’t get out much. I work from home so there is no office to go to. There are no people to interact with face to face. It’s just me and the dogs. The only places I ever go are the grocery store and the nail salon. I lead a pretty sheltered life. I guess I don’t really mind. I’m a little shy; social anxiety. I do however love an adventure so; I live vicariously through a good friend of mine.

I have known Jennifer forever. We grew up in the same neighborhood. She has always been adventurous. She has always been a free spirit. She is a lover of the arts and as such visits galleries, museums, and enjoys live theater. She blogs about her experiences and it is through this that I gain some culture. Her blog takes me out of my own little world and into her very spirited universe. I think you would enjoy her adventures as much as I do.

Um...I'm not sure what to call this one.

Today Wendy’s World is romantic. It’s is nauseatingly sweet. I am so much in love and I am loved so well. My guy is the most incredible guy ever. He is hands down my most favorite person. I finally get the notion that I deserve to be loved. I spent too many years in a fucked up relationship that I forgot what love felt like. It is afuckingmazing!

My marriage was a nightmare. We loved each other but in a codependent kind of way. We had some knock down drag out fist fights. At times we hated each other as much as we loved each other. That happens when you are in an abusive relationship. He wanted me to himself and only himself. If he could have prevented me from going to work he would have. He hated for me to leave the house. He hated to share me. He made excuses for my absence; like saying I was sick. He simply wanted to hide me from the world. I was his prisoner. There were times when we did go out together or I would go out and find him and we would spend some time together. It was always at the bar. It never ended well. He would accuse me of hitting on someone or someone hitting on me and it would get nasty. We would wake up in the morning and the house would be trashed and we would be all beat up. Ah, alcohol fueled domestic violence. Not my favorite pass time, but I got real good at defending myself. I used to be able to knock him out with one punch. That’s what I have to be proud of about that relationship. Then to make matters worse, when I finally left, he committed suicide. He blamed me. He told me that he couldn’t live without me all the while he had a girlfriend. Did I tell you about his cheating ways? Nope, bounced right over that one. He cheated on me; a lot. But, I digress. He hung himself off the back of my bedroom door. He did it because he was pissed at me and wanted to punish me. That’s what he said anyway. So, that’s a nice take away from seventeen years of marriage. I now wonder why I stuck around for so long.

I guess I had an awakening. It was more like an intervention. Ok, really it was a murder/suicide threat that did it. As miserable as I was, as sick and tired as I was, I just wouldn’t give up. I finally had to. I knew he would do it. He would kill me and then himself. I had to get out so, I did.

In the months after I left he stalked me. He stalked me via text message, phone calls, drive bys, and e-mail. He was constantly there. I couldn’t get any sleep. I would sleep in my mom’s closet with my Pit Diesel and a loaded 12 gauge shotgun. I worked on a secure, government installation however; he was badged for up there because he had done some construction work there. He could get me no matter where I went. I was terrified. It took me a long time and lots of therapy to recover from that. But, alas I did.

I suppose I can say that I am better for the experience. I know what I don’t want in a relationship. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to want. When I met Mike I was still pretty fucked up. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t accept the respect and love he showed but in all fairness, he had issues too. It was hard to convince him that I wasn’t what he was used to. I wasn’t going to betray him. I wasn’t using him. I just wanted to love him. All the while I was fighting this battle he was trying to break down the thick walls I had built around my heart. Sometimes things were a little rough. Never as rough as with my husband. We learned to talk to each other. We took the time to find out what the other was feeling or thinking. One day it just happened. There was no struggle left. It was the most beautiful feeling. Unconditional love is amazing. I can’t even describe it. It’s like being wrapped in your favorite blanket all the time. It’s amazing what happens when you just let go and give into it. I’ve felt this way for a long time now. I’ve been with Mike since early 2010. Each day I fall more in love. He gets me. He knows what makes me tick. He knows how to keep me madly in love with him. He allows me my free will.

I don’t remember most of Sunday.

I’m never drinking beer again. Yeah, right. Ok, I’m never drinking that much beer again. I got fucked right up! I’m getting too old for that shit. My whole body punished me yesterday. I couldn’t even read. All I could do is sleep. I spent the whole day in bed. I did take a couple of calls and mowed Harvey’s lawn so at least I made some money, but I was pretty much useless. I can’t believe I used to do that all the time. That is so totally not cool anymore. I lost a whole chunk of a day. I don’t remember most of Sunday. Bad, bad girl! My body is much happier when it is clean. I can’t even eat food with preservatives in it anymore. It makes me sick. It must be age. So, it’s back to all natural living for this girl.

Time to plant some tomato plants. My garden is nicely weeded and waiting for manure and plants. It’s starting to get cooler now so it is a nice time for a garden. We are also starting to get more rain which is good and bad. The good is the vegetation loves it. The bad is that Mike has to work in it. He busts his ass for us. I believe I have said that before. Next week I will be busting my ass or really just wearing out my brain as I will be dispatching calls from 9 pm to 7 am, Monday through Thursday while still trying to work my PSO shift. The good thing about the PSO shift is that I can sleep all day and take calls. I’m hoping that is going to work out for me. My brain usually objects to any changes in its routine. I may become a little manicy which is ok as long as bitchiness doesn’t come along with it. As long as I can stay well rested I should be fine.

Wow! I just realized that last paragraph was one big ADHD mess, And now my keyboard will only type in caps. wtf!?

Coffee...I Do Love You!

Another brain experiment has gone wrong. Why would I ever think it is a good idea to give up coffee? I love coffee! I ran out on Sunday and haven’t had a chance to get to the store to pick some up. So I thought, “Screw it, I’ve been able to give everything else up. I can kick my coffee habit.” Not so. I am so tired even with drinking tea instead. There is just something about that morning quadruple espresso with frothy milk and sweet, sweet cinnamon that gets me moving. Right now I am ready for a nap. In fact, I’m only writing this to stay awake.

It feels so wrong to take a nap while Mike is sweating his balls off at work. I feel guilty indulging myself while he is working his ass off to support us. I know what he would say. That sweetheart would tell me, “Baby take a nap if that’s what you need to do.” He so good to me like that. I wonder if he’ll stop at the store and pick me up some espresso on his way home. Of course he will.

I think part of my sleepiness is my new antidepressant. It says it may cause drowsiness and well, it does do that. It works as well as my old one except for that side effect, but I needed to be taken down a notch anyway. Way too much anxiety going on. This drug seems to quell that. I like it so far. It is much less expensive than my old meds. It’s only ten bucks for ninety as opposed to fifty bucks for a thirty day supply. That’s the kind of savings I can live with. Dr. V assures me that it is “exactly the same as Prozac, only better.” He’s the expert so I’ve got to go with him on this one. He would probably also tell me to quit quitting coffee if it was making me unhappy. That’s his job after all, to keep me happy. He would probably also tell me to take a nap, so that’s what I’m going to do. Hey, Dr’s orders.

My Brain is Too Big for My Head

I spent almost the entire day in bed yesterday. It was awesome. I read and napped all day long. I did get up once to clean up the kitchen a little but that was a small task. I just lounged all day.

Saturday afternoon/night we celebrated my anti-birthday. It’s Mike’s way of throwing me a birthday party. I hate celebrating my birthday. So we don’t do cake or any of that. We had a blast. Mike threw a ton of chicken on the smoker and friends brought dishes and we even had fresh gator tail. Our friend Lonnie had hunted an eleven foot alligator. Man was it tasty. I love fried gator tail. It tastes like a chicken and a fish had a baby. Reptiles are yummy!

I discovered the pure pleasure that is birthday cake flavored vodka. It tastes just like cake. It is really good in small doses. I savored a couple of shots of that while I was cleaning up the big mess. That’s the great part about not getting fucked up anymore; I can function to clean up the mess, real time. I don’t have to drag myself out of bed all hung over and face a huge mess. It’s nice. I’m learning moderation. I must be mellowing with age. I know my body’s limits. I might test them a little but, don’t push them anymore.

So, I wasn’t in bed with a hang over. I was in bed because I wanted to be and because I have had a headache for nearly a week. It isn’t a migraine. Those meds don’t work on it. It isn’t a tension headache; muscle relaxers don’t work. It is a headache that I get that is at the base of my skull right near your brain stem. It happens because my brain is too big for my head so it pushes out of the hole back there. The only way to fix it is to make that hole bigger. Well, you can imagine what that would entail. Totally not worth it. I know the headache will eventually subside. It is just a dull ache and barely noticeable when I am concentrating on something. That’s why reading in bed is good for me. I put the heating pad on my neck and just lay back and go to some other world inside my Kindle. I wish I could do the same thing today but too much laziness isn’t good for me. I got up about 6:30 so that I could see Mike before he went to work. I was totally bummed to find that I did not have coffee in the house. I had to settle for tea. It did a sufficient job of waking me up. With the caffeine in my system I set about cleaning the floors. They were yucky. Now I’m working dispatching calls. I love it. It is so much fun. Some poor dude just got cock blocked by his credit card company. It’s kind of humorous when that happens.

Gonna Have to Mess With My Mind A Little

So, I woke up with a crappy birthday to me attitude. I don’t know why I was depressed; maybe it’s because another year has passed. I think it is mostly because I don’t have a well paying job. I need to improve my attitude about the job I have. Maybe if I put in more hours I will make more money. I don’t know.

So there I was with tears in my eyes feeling sorry for myself when my Daddy called. He always cheers me up. He has that way about him. He’s not just my Dad he is also my very good friend. It has always been like that. I think it is because we are so much alike. He has a way of making me feel not alone. He has a good perspective on life. We talked about the general state of the nation and how not very many people can say they are doing great. He reminded me of all the other people out there that are jobless and struggling. He basically told me that I just have to be happy with what I have and hope for the best. I love that man. I feel better now. Well, a little bit better. I’m glad that I got to talk to one of my favorite people. Now I wish I would receive calls from other people, the paying kind.

 

We, that being me and my bosses, can’t figure out why things are not working for me. We have tried adding new characters. The only thing I haven’t done is tried changing my hours. I think that is something I am going to have to do. Unfortunately that screws up my brain’s schedule. Night becomes day; day becomes night. It messes me up a little bit. Hopefully it sends me over to the manic side. I’m already a little depressed. I don’t want that to get worse. I know it is just situational depression but it can be debilitating. The manic side is much more fun. I’m happy and productive and everything seems to go my way. It’s all part of that positive attracts positive belief. So, I think I’ll start working nights next week and see what happens. Wish my brain luck, it’s going to need it.

Shy Guys, Dominant Women, and A New Job

I know you have heard this before but I think I have another job. It is with a legitimate work at home company. I love being a sub-contractor. I have an awesome situation that works very well for me because I have extreme anxiety. I don’t need to leave the house. I don’t have to get up close and personal with the general public. I only need to talk to people on the phone. I’m very good at that.

I talk to the skivviest of pervs in my PSO job. It is a no taboo service. You talk about what ever the client wants no matter how sick it is. I’ve learned to detach myself from the characters I play. I have four characters. I have two that are very young girls and two ladies that are in their late forties. Given the age span of my characters, I get to run the whole gamut of debauchery.

I have recently started dispatching for the phone sex company. It’s a cool gig. Men are funny. They are so shy about what they are doing. They are nervous. They stutter. They give you wrong information. They are too cute. I’m always very gentle and loving with them to put them at ease. I gently walk them through the purchase. It also gives one of my characters a ton of exposure. I use my phone voice when dispatching. More times than not I get asked if I could do their call. They love my voice. They want to know my name so that they can talk to me when I’m on the PSO side of things. I like that. I’ve been telling them my name is Claire. Claire is one of my characters. She’s forty something, kinky and knows exactly what she likes. She is a dominant slut. She eats twenty year olds for breakfast. She does a swift business. I love Claire.

My new job is legitimate customer service. You know, one of those 800 customer support numbers we all love to call? I’m going to be one of those happy idiots; happy because I’m grateful to be working. It doesn’t pay a lot but I get to work from home. I like working in my jammies. I like being able to bum around my house between calls. I get to read and play games. I am very fortunate to be able to live like this. I’m free.

I Shaved My Balls For This?

I have a twisted sense of humor. This came in handy after my husband killed himself. Dark humor carried me through the planning, the fucking obituary (I’ll explain that), and the memorial service.

I had little or no say in how it would all go down. His family took over and told me what I was going to do. They were pissed at me because instead of calling Pete’s mom myself, I sent the police to her house to inform her. I did this for specific reasons. She lives alone. Pete’s step father lives a half an hour away. I requested that specific officers be dispatched so that she knew them. I knew they would comfort her and wait with her if she needed it. They grew up with Pete. I thought that would be better than me just calling her and saying, “Pete hung himself. Good bye.” I mean, what’s a girl to do. I was in shock and could barely communicate with the police let alone tell someone their child was dead. So, they cut me out of everything except the packing and shipping of him home. The obituary was written by his mother and was basically all about how influential his family had been in settling the town of Lee, Massachusetts. It talked about him raising rabbits for 4-H, it had nothing about the man he had become, what he had accomplished and that sort of thing. This is because they didn’t really know him. Their relationship was superficial. The obit was a joke. More than a dozen people asked me, “What’s up with the obituary?” I would just tell them I had nothing to do with it and shake my head.

The memorial service was even more embarrassing. The pastor at the church had never met Pete and I didn’t have time to meet with him before the service so he basically read the dreaded obituary and that was it. We did pray and a family friend played a song on his guitar but that was the extent of it. The only piece of me and Pete was the rocked up version of Amazing Grace that the organist played. Pete had wanted the Drop Kick Murphy’s version played at his memorial. Pete wanted a lot of things that he did not get because these people refused to talk to me.

Pete wanted to be cremated immediately. He did not want to be embalmed, made up and put on display. We had talked extensively about our wishes should something happen to one of us. I knew what he wanted. They didn’t. They insisted on seeing him one last time before he was cremated. I had to go along with that; you know the whole closure thing. So I told the funeral director that I worked with in Florida that I did not want any make up on him. I simply wanted him embalmed, dressed, and shipped to Massachusetts. He agreed and asked me to bring him the clothes I would like him dressed in. Ok, so, here is the only other part of this big charade that I had a choice over.

My mom and I went to my house to look for clothes for him. While she was in the closet pulling out dress shirts I was going through his t-shirt drawer. We decided to go with a t-shirt as that was more his style. Now here is where it gets good. I had a habit of picking up shirts for him with funny sayings on them. One of his favorite shirts said in big blue letters, “I shaved my balls for this?” I couldn’t resist. I had to send him home in that. I can just imagine the looks on their faces when they caught sight of that. My mom, the funeral director in Florida, and I thought it was hysterical. Unfortunately the humor was probably lost on his family as they are kind of stuffy, but I got one over on them. For that I am proud. At least one thing went my way.