To Monday?

Mark's just been sitting here playing his STUPID computer game all by himself, making comments out loud like "Oh No..." with his headphones on, while I've been sitting here watching a movie about an alcoholic and his fucked up existence.

I don't WANT to make it until Monday. Yes, I WILL make it until Monday, but I don't WANT to. I want to stop right this instant. My life is a waste. I've accomplished nothing. It's been nothing but pain, I'm a failure at everything, I hate taking drugs every fucking day of my life, and really, what is the purpose? To take drugs to keep you alive? For what reason is my life serving, anyway, if I don't want to be here?

I don't want to go to work on Monday. I just want to cease to exist.

NO, I'm NOT going to commit suicide, that's stupid.

I'm simply asking God...can I please cease to exist? Just take away the memory that I was ever here and wipe away the few moments in the few lives that have known me?

It hurts me so much that I have to get up right now and go upstairs and go to bed by myself (or not by myself) just to go to sleep and face another day. Of this.


And again.

And again.


With no relief in sight.

Please don't send messages not to kill myself. I'm not GOING TO. This is my ONLY OUTLET.

I'm just going to take my Seroquel, go to bed, and cry myself to sleep. Just like in the old days of 2001.

I guess nothing ever changes, does it?


Mark and I just had a serious conversation.

It started out with me being annoyed and angry. Here it is, another Saturday, and we're just sitting here rotting. What do I want to do? he asks.

I don't know, that's not the point, I tell him.

What do I think everyone else does? he asks.

I say they have a child, or a pet, or a sports team.

He asks which of these do I want?

I say none - they all require commitments.

But as we started talking, I realized something. I just have this internal feeling, and I was trying to put it onto something. He was right. I wasn't happy, but I didn't want to do anything, either. I had to admit, I was unhappy just to be unhappy.

So if it that wasn't it, what was it? I started thinking - well, last night I REALLY freaked out over my mom and cried and cried,...and he mentioned that was very strange for me...

but then he also mentioned I missed work for over a day this week and I wasn't sick.

And he asked me...when was the last time you remember being happy?

I tried to think of a recent time. I couldn't. I said "When Cody was alive, I guess". I actually had to LOOK IN MY BLOG just now to find out. At the American Idol concert at the beginning of September, but before that and after that, most of my entries are pretty pathetic and depressing after Cody died.

He suggested a therapist, but...I asked him, how do I go to a therapist and talk about why I feel so depressed when I don't know why I'm depressed? What if I'm CLINICALLY depressed again? We talked about the symptoms some more and he said yeah, probably your pdoc is the best place to start - when are you going to see him next?

I said sometime after Christmas.

He said "What? I think you should see him before THEN. Let's imagine Cody was alive and a person and he was telling you this - would you accept after Christmas from him?"

He was really trying, wasn't he? Making my dead dog my son with mental problems?

I should objectively read my own blog once in awhile and see how I think life is so rotten, how I hate myself so much and everything around me, and how I have no hope for anything ever getting better. I got all of that out of my own blog from posts in the last few months - repeatedly. From different song lyrics, even!! As if my mind was on "replay" trying to tell me it was broken over and over again!

I honestly thought I was upbeat much more often. That's how I saw myself, anyway.

I guess I'm depressed like Mark and I decided, and I'll go to the doctor.

All I know is...I want to cry and cry all the time. And when I don't want to cry, I'm either numb, miserable, or just want to be somewhere else, be someone else, and have no hope any of that will happen.

Mark said on a KansasSunflower Level of Depression, it's about a 5 compared to past depressions. But he doesn't know how I FEEL. He's only being brought into the game in the 6th or 7th inning. He hasn't wondered why he sucked so bad for months now, without realizing it was IN HIS HEAD.

He hasn't been feeling this way since the beginning of the year - he's just NOW realizing his partner may be depressed, and this is Day #1 for him, while it's probably Day #200 for me.

What I finally figured out from our talking it out was that....I felt hopeless over such silly stuff. Hopeless that any attempt I made to make my weekend more enjoyable would be a failure, and even if it worked, it wouldn't last. Hopeless that tomorrow would feel any better than it did today. Or next week. Or next year. If anything, it will feel WORSE. Because I will be OLDER, youth will be that much further away, but at least I'll be that much closer to DEATH. Yeah, death, without accomplishing a single thing.

So why am I so weak? Why am I so frail and fragile? Why does the tiniest thing hurt me?

I just took 2 klonipin. After missing work, yesterday, and today, I think I'll see if I can see my pdoc next week. That will take a LOT of courage, and I don't know if I can do it. I guess eventually I'll have to, what choice do I have? But when you have no hope....

Maybe a few MORE Klonipin wouldn't kill me. The thing is...I don't think even THEN it would take away the pain. I don't think that's what klonipin is take away the pain. It's for anxiety, right? I don't really feel anxious. I just feel....sad. Very very lonely and sad.

And very lonely.

My Mother - Bam, out of Nowhere!

Sorry I was gone for a few days. I crashed again and survived. Total "Seroquel hangover" when I woke up in the morning two mornings in a row. Spent an entire day medicated in bed, just because I couldn't face the day. So at work, I missed a day and a morning.

I was stifling through some paperwork trying to find my tax returns for 2004 because we're refinancing our house, and I found my grandfather's trust agreement. (Wait, there is a purpose for this boredom)

When he died many years ago, I knew eventually this trust would end, and it would be divided % determined by my grandfather. I just always assumed all trustees would be in the SAME ROOM when this happened.

You see on television, a will is read, and I naturally assumed there would be a "will reading" at the end of the trust. I now realize...there is NO WILL. There's a TRUST - an "entity", an "organization", so to speak, over the assets. mother, my brother, and my uncle won't all be in one stifling room as I've pictured while someone reads the trust to us and we sit there and bicker it all out. There's nothing to bicker about. I just sat here and read the whole thing, beginning to end.

I always thought that there would be ONE LAST TIME that my mother and I would be in the same room together. When the trust was up. Now I, we won't. We will NEVER be in the same room again for the REST OF MY LIFE, I realize.

In my dreams, I would be this goddess - my life would be perfect, the man on my arm would be perfect, driving an elitist car, wearing expensive clothes, fashion everything from head to toe. I'd make her see that I really didn't need her for anything, and I was so much better off without her. In reality, without the pomp and circumstance, yes, that really is true. I'm so much better off without her and I've never really needed her for anything.

But now I won't get to PROVE how much better off I am than she is. Isn't that a horrible thing to say? I'm thinking it, and it all makes perfect sense to me, yet...reading it and pretending not to be me, it really sounds awful.

I haven't seen her since I was a teenager. I moved out when I was 16. It was the best thing I ever did. It was survival. Yes, I left my brother there, but he was in no harm. He never was, he was always protected somehow.

She's always claimed to be bitter about it. She's asked me time and again - why, if she divorced my step dad, and then lived with Tom and he left too, did I not come back afterwards? (Time and again meaning....WAY in the past)

I told her, although I don't know how clear I made it because, you see, I don't know how clear it was in my mind at the time, it was the LIFESTYLE I was getting away from. The abuse, the drugs, from the time I was SIX. I told her maybe momentarily the men were gone, but soon enough, another would follow. And I pointed out - I was right. It was another that she soon divorced as well. I think she's been married 5 times? At least 3 times to abusive men, maybe all times. The worst was my stepdad from the time I was 6 - 16. She could be married to one right now for all I know.

My mother is still relatively young. She's 56. Abortion was illegal when I was born, but I don't know if that played a part in my being born or not. I've always wondered if it did. I was a HUGE accident and mistake, there's never been an argument over that. My grandparents loved me dearly, though. My father's mother, the only one left alive, still does.

I always wonder..."why does she hate me so much?". I used to send her flowers on mother's day, a birthday card, try to connect and pick up the phone and talk to her, even after she turned me away when I was 18 and went to her doorstep bearing Christmas gifts.

After YEARS (and so much pain) of therapy, my counselor finally made me realize so much about her. She was the ONLY one that could have stopped what my step dad was doing to me, yet she chose not to. She was as guilty as he was. All that time I saw her as a victim, too...only, she was the adult, not me. And being an adult now, AND having gone through an abusive relationship myself, if I had a little girl, there's no way in HELL I'd let my child go through that - even telling my little girl she DESERVED IT!

I saw the movie "Good Will Hunting" years ago in the movie theater. It was after I'd been to therapy. Will being told over and over "It's not your fault, it's not your fault", and he kept saying "I know, I know", but he really didn't's really like that. She (my therapist) told me it's easier for a child to think they deserve it than to think the people that are responsible for taking care of them and protecting them are abusive. Even though the same thing happened to me - my counselor told me OVER and OVER "it wasn't your fault", it didn't hit me quite like that as when I saw the same thing happen to someone ELSE. To him, of COURSE it wasn't his fault. So I had to believe that in myself, too, and it was hard. Even today, I still don't know what I believe. Mentally, sure, I know what I believe. But deep down? I still believe I was a bad little girl. One of the last times I spoke to my mother, she said "you just can't understand what you were LIKE as a child...". I'd really prefer not to drudge up those horrible memories and put them in my blog as to what all happened to me. Besides, something that happened to me may have affected me to the same degree as when a teacher made someone else urinate accidentally in class (for example). It may have been just as traumatic. How do I know?

At my counselor's urging, we decided, well, I guess *I* decided after months and months of reliving my childhood at her PRODDING and PRYING, that sometimes there are people in your life that hurt you again and again, and there comes a point when you have to decide that you will not allow that person to hurt you anymore. When that happens, you have to make a decision to "cut that person out of your life". that point, I decided to "cut my mother out of my life". There was no big fight. Nothing happened. When someone doesn't call you, send you cards, try to talk to you, and you decide to cut them out of your life, well...nothing really happens. What DOES stop happening, though, is getting up your hopes that you'll be connected again, have this mother/daughter relationship everyone else seems to have. Or ANY relationship. So...cutting her out of my life basically consisted of cutting off my hope, because she doesn't do anything to try to contact me. And now, the one final thing I had left where I thought we could reconnect - is gone.

There will be no "will reading" like I dreamt of. No "I missed you", "I wish we had a relationship", no "why don't you come and visit", or "I'm so proud of who you grew up to be".

She'll NEVER be proud of me. She'll NEVER take responsibility. She'll NEVER want anything to do with me.

Why? I have no idea. If I knew that, I'd be able to create world peace.

I do know this. From the time I was 16 and I left, I've never asked to go back, I've never asked for one thing from her, and I've never needed her. It's possible that all this time she's been waiting, but I know if I asked, she'd say no. Actually, my counselor from long ago would tell me to stop trying to figure it out because I can't and I won't, to keep my mind off of it entirely - I've been hurt too much already.

I don't think about her. The last time we spoke was, strangely enough and I don't even remember how this happened, but it was through MSN. Maybe 6 or 7 years ago? She asked why I left (again) and never came back (again). I told her (again). She said she was crying really hard as she was typing, and she was going to have to stop. I told her I had been to counseling for all of the years I grew up, and SHE made the weirdest comment. She said that my counselor would probably be mad if she knew I was talking to her, wouldn't she? I don't remember exactly what I said, but I didn't deny it. She asked if I needed the money that came from the trust every month, and I said no. I took that to mean "You're probably barely scraping by and need that $50/month for groceries". Give me a freakin' break.

So now, I guess I'll NEVER see her again. OR talk to her again. Sure, I could just pick up the phone, but why? You just do NOT understand. I've done this a hundred times. How many times do you put your hand out to get it sliced by a knife? Do I keep doing this with no hope of it ever stopping? Because I've DONE this, and it never did.

And the strangest thing is, I've done NOTHING WRONG! But it feels like I've been the worst daughter in the entire world! All of the mother's day presents I made, and cards, and her birthdays, and Christmas's, everything. All of the memories...I've just tried to block them out, tried to forget, I wonder what I don't remember anymore. I've tried to forget her.

I shouldn't have typed this entry. It's been YEARS, but now I'm crying and I miss my mommy.


Okay, I've never admitted this to anyone. On Monday's, people always ask "So how was your weekend?" or "What did you do?" I always try to shrug off the questions, or say "got a lot of rest", or the truth (sometimes) "got caught up on the laundry".

The truth? I don't do a damn thing. Nope. And I know something is wrong with me. EVERYBODY does something SOMETIMES on the weekends, right? It's like Mark and I are shut-ins. I sit with my laptop on my lap, don't shower all day Saturday, I might on Sunday (and my last shower was Friday afternoon at the gym), and I'm just sitting here on the edge of the couch where I've been planted since I've gotten up. I haven't even brushed my teeth or combed my hair. My meds? Yes, I DID take THOSE, and I'll take them again so I can fall asleep tonight. I'm so dependent on my medication and I HATE that. I absolutely hate how dependent I am on those damned pills.

What is wrong with me? I guess Mark and I are co-dependent, right? Except he does stuff. He'll go out on the balcony and smoke a cigar - maybe do something with his car, toodle around the house.

It's been this way for awhile, and I just don't know what's wrong with me. I don't make plans to see friends. I don't call family members. I have no one close to me in my life except one person: Mark. There IS no one else. The two other people that are the next closest are two female coworkers, and they're almost like strangers. They know NOTHING about me.

Why do I not let people get close to me? What am I afraid of? Has Mark stifled me and suffocated me to where I don't want to go out and do anything because he is so introverted and I got tired of dragging him everywhere, or did I do this to myself?

I'm so isolated. That's why Cody's death was so hard. There was only my immediate family, no one else in my life. And then one was gone.

I've gotten to the point where I keep everything about me to myself, and I used to be the biggest extrovert you've ever known. I got in trouble every day for talking in school, I would ask strangers to play with me, I moved in with a family I hardly knew! Now I'm this quiet, focused person at work. Is it the medication? Has it f'ed me up? Has it turned me into someone I'm not?

Or have I been depressed for years now, and just not known it? I feel like a hermit. Sometimes Mark will go over to his family's house - even on a holiday like Christmas, and I'll choose to stay home all by myself.

I'm not scared of people. As a matter of fact, I love to be the center of attention. I used to strike up conversations with strangers all the time. But...I think I've gotten so uncomfortable in my own's like, I hate myself so much that I don't want to be seen. I want to be invisible.

Maybe that's it. My self hatred runs this deep? Or do I keep blaming self hatred for everything these days? I sure hate everything about myself, though.

I saw a girl come out of the shower in the locker room on Friday with a her hair. She just walked around this huge locker room to her locker which wasn't close with just a towel on her head. I happened to see her in the mirror and kind of did a quick double take, I couldn't help it. She had a greenish blue playboy bunny tattoo in the middle of her butt cheek? Most women are so modest, and even the ones that aren't still have a towel around them to walk back to their locker. I don't even know why it's such a big deal to me. I guess I'm jealous. I wish *I* felt like I could do that. It's not even like she had a perfect body. No, she wasn't fat or gross, she was thin, but I have to admit, once she was dressed and I looked at her face, she was MUCH MUCH prettier with just the towel on her head. (sorry, but she was!) I didn't wish that I was her anymore once she was dressed, seriously.

I guess that's way off topic, but it had been on my mind.

So yeah, that's my confession that I tell NO ONE. Not that I have anyone to tell, anyway. I just have my blog. And Mark, but he already knows and doesn't understand why I don't at least shower, but he doesn't even ask about it anymore.

It's like I just sit and rot. And that's okay with me. I'm just waiting to die or something, and not looking forward to living. To be honest, I've tried all of this time so hard not to think about it, that I haven't even begun to analyze it.

Finally Getting Better

Let's long has it been now? 7 months and 10 days. It's been about that long for me to come to peace about Cody, my dog that died in February.

I FINALLY feel okay thinking about him, and don't want to cry. I don't feel guilty anymore. I don't miss him as much, and there's not this huge gaping hole.

I know, I know, weird. It wasn't that long ago that I wrote this long sappy post, crying my eyes out, about how much I missed my dog and how it was my fault he died - that I should have MADE the vets do SOMETHING to save him.

Making that post was very important, I see now. I had to get it out. I kept it all bottled up inside for all that time, and never let it out. There was NO ONE for me to talk to. And then I MADE myself watch the home CD's of him, and THAT is what really calmed me. To see him again - to see US as a family, how we used to be. It made me laugh and cry at the same time, but now...I just feel peaceful about it.

Writing about it makes me a little sad, but I'm not crying. I'm okay.

I see now that increasing my Seroquel really didn't help. I guess it might have stopped what could have been a trigger into a spiraling depression. But this was situational.

Using my blog to write out what I think and feel has helped me TREMENDOUSLY. Having a place to put my most personal thoughts and feelings and take the time to think through what it is I'm going through is SO therapeutic. I don't know how I coped without it.

In a way, it's *almost* like going to a therapist. I've been to a therapist who I would tell an issue to, and she would say "well what do YOU think about that?", "well what do YOU think you should do?", and on and on. It was just me sitting there, coming up with my own solutions by talking it out, and she would nod approvingly. I was trying to make sense of it enough to convey to her in words what hadn't been until then, hence figuring out what my issue and solution was on my own. She would nod her head, say some insightful "tidbits", and in the end, wrap it up with her own little speech. "So what we've learned today is...", perhaps giving me a piece of paper to write it down.

I know I have issues, and what they are. I know there are some that I write about, know the answer to fix them, and simply don't do it. You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped, though. A therapist couldn't help me with that. She could point it out, but there's nothing she could do to make me change my behavior. There's no "nugget" of information she could give me. Trying to scare the shit out of me wouldn't work either. I'm not just talking about eating, I have other issues, too.

But who doesn't have "issues"? I don't know a single person that doesn't. I used to say EVERYONE could benefit from going to counseling. Maybe that's true. But we all have our own demons to face.

For me, simply writing it out is my own form of counseling.


I'm thinking more and more about what a freak my boss is, and Mark is making me realize it.

For some reason, we were on the subject of "stapling".

I told him, "stapling" wasn't really allowed in our office.

He said "what do you mean? So you're a staple-free office? Why?"

I said "No, we have staplers, but my boss doesn't like the SOUND of staplers, so we have to staple QUIETLY".

He laughed and laughed, and said "and you were the one that WANTED to work there because the place was so great".

My boss has told several people he wouldn't have hired them if he would have known they were smokers, and not just once, and in front of everyone. Is that even legal?

I could go ON AND ON AND ON. I now see it as an abusive relationship I have with my boss. The stapler is really not a big deal. We can't eat food at our desk that has a "smell" to it. Popping popcorn in the kitchen is just forbidden as the whole office will smell like it. He considers anything that "smells" to be inconsiderate to other people. This includes scented lotions, etc.

I don't know...should I just keep overlooking it like I've been doing? He talks down to most people like dogs, and I have no idea why.

Is the recruiting world really this bad? Or is it sales in general? Or is it my boss? Or is it ME?

Who the Hell Am I Becoming?

I don't like who I'm becoming, and I don't like what I do. I've felt this coming on, but couldn't quite put my finger on it until Mark and I were talking about it at dinner.

My boss is, quite frankly, a jackass. He is a liar. He is a bully. He is unethical. He is cruel. And he is a "salesman". I'm not saying all salesman are this way, but he is. And he wants me to be just like him. How do I know? Because he TOLD ME!

I almost hate him. I say *almost* because I don't think I'm quite to the hate part yet. That's reserved for maybe 1 or 2 lucky individuals. People always say "I don't hate anyone". BULLSHIT. Everyone hates SOMEONE. Just because you don't CALL it "hate" doesn't mean it isn't. "I just dislike intensely". Again...bullshit. The Bible tells us not to hate, but just because you call it by another name doesn't mean it isn't hate.

I can't take it anymore, and now that I'm aware that I can't take it anymore, what am I supposed to do?

Being bipolar, as a salesman, has its advantages. I am very creative. I can come up with some great reasons why someone should take or want one of my jobs, whether they be true or not.

I'm quite intuitive with people. I can quickly ascertain what that person is needing, missing, or wanting in a job and wrap it up in a perfect package in the new job I'm presenting to them. Is what I tell them true? Most of the time, I don't even know if it is. I'm making it up, and there's a 50/50 chance that I'm right.

ABC. Always Be Closing. People spew it out of their mouths every chance they get.

How did I get this way? I know how. Sitting by my jackass boss, listening to him build up these companies and these jobs, and just following the leader. Now I made a conscience choice at some point to do this, but it was more of "keep your job and do a good job", or "take a chance and get fired" type of decision.

I'm the most sincere person you'll ever meet. And this is killing me. I go home feeling horrible about myself, what I've said, what I've done, to people who TRUST me and seem so NICE, and I've gained their friendship to the point where they're telling me personal stories about themselves and their children!

How does my boss do it? How does he go to sleep at night?

He lied to ME today. A girl needed $50 to get a boot off of her car, didn't have the cash and called my boss, and he said he'd bring it to her. He hung up the phone, and asked if anyone had $50? I ALWAYS have about $100 of "emergency money" in my wallet because Mark insists that things like THIS could happen to me and I'd need it! So I said I did, he told me to give it to the Security guy and he'd pay me back. I'm too damned TRUSTING AND NICE!

I got back up to the office after lunch (even got a RECEIPT), and instead of giving me the money, he told me to get it from the girl who owed it instead.

I'm really pissed. He lied to ME now.

He just got back from a 2 day Christian retreat.

THIS is who I'm becoming? THIS is my mentor?

I can't keep changing jobs, but my God. Don't I have to like myself?

Maybe I should just stand up for myself. He says I'm too nice. I say I'm moral and ethical compared to him. That's the difference. I don't abuse people, I respect them.

And *I* am the one with the mental illness? ME? And he's supposedly on the "Normal Team"?

The Biggest Loser

What a coincidence that the Reality Show "The Biggest Loser" started tonight, and I got my work out program from my trainer today and almost passed out twice, and am in SO MUCH PAIN and exhaustion it's unreal. (See below)

It will definitely be a motivator for me, but why the hell can't I lose 10-20 pounds in a week??? Man, just one week like that, and boom, I'm done.

I would PAY SO MUCH to go to that ranch for 4 months and work my ass off every day to get in shape. I was surprised they were letting them throw up and pass out from working out so hard. I guess my trainers aren't so odd after all.

Okay, last post of the day. I'm still waiting for tomorrow to come to be one day closer to death.

Just a Crappy Day

I really just had one.

Today I got my "workout program" from my trainer at my gym. It's HARD. But it doesn't seem like it should be? I literally thought I was going to pass out. I never told my trainer. This happened to me once before when I started a gym with a trainer, and he kept asking me if I was going to throw up, and it was okay if I did. (???) I got through the workout, I don't know how, showered (I'm getting better at being naked in the locker room), and then realized I could barely walk up the steps to get out of the gym! I'm not looking forward to how I'll feel tomorrow.

Work was miserable. This guy who was a shoo-in for this "specialized SAP technology" who had kids with viral meningitis and had to postpone his interview TWICE had to cancel the third one today. Sometimes you just have to people really have this bad of luck or are they just insane and playing some bizarre game? He had told me yesterday that he was available this afternoon for an interview, except for a doctor's appointment he had this morning. So I get an email from him later today, and he tells me he found out from the doctor that he has this disease (long name, don't remember it), where your hip bone starts dying and he's getting an MRI. He thinks he should stay put for now, he thanked me for all of my prayers and thoughts for his children. I wasn't going to answer him - I was going to blow him off and be the typical recruiter..."what use is he to me now?". But I didn't. I sent him an email telling him how sorry I was about it and his family's health, he was still in my thoughts and prayers, and if he every needed anything, to contact me anytime. I figured...why burn my bridges? And...what if he is truly telling the truth? I've spoken to this man several times on the phone, and he is the NICEST and most sincere guy it would seem you could talk to. If all of that is really true, wow, his family needs my prayers. But at first, I was thinking "are you frickin' kidding me? He's been playing me all this time???" I mean, he really could be.

And a guy I promised I would help keep him in this city so he wouldn't have to move away from his kids didn't show up at 3:00 so we could tell him what to do at his next interview. He didn't answer his cell phone either, and the mailbox was full so I couldn't leave a message. The company doesn't think he'll "gel" with the team, but he doesn't know that. I've met him - his first impression isn't great. I guess he's more of an introvert, maybe? He comes off as a bit of a smart ass, and I don't know if it's intentional? So my boss was going to be very direct - tell him what to DO, how to ACT, what to SAY (he's very good at this sort of thing, believe it or not, jackass or not). So since he didn't show up, I'm guessing he's not showing up to his interview tomorrow morning either, and he's taking the job in Arizona, away from his kids, instead.

Here I am, trying to HELP people as a recruiter, and what does it get me? Nothing. Trying to use my job to help people gets me nowhere. I end up helping no one, and they crap on me in return. It's starting to make me calloused. The guy getting divorced (who didn't show up today) and the guy whose kids were sick and now he has the bone disease really got to me.

I guess the only other guy I'm really trying to HELP with my job is the one I most identify with, and watch, HE won't even get an INTERVIEW, like most people. I have no idea why he's in Washington when he's from Texas, but he lives in an apartment, no significant other, and I asked, jokingly, don't you even have a dog? (I have to ask these things, not the dog part. there anyone in the family who will need to quit their job to move to Texas?) He told me "I had to put my dog down 2 weeks ago. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life".

He had to put his dog down 2 weeks ago, and it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life, and now he wants to move back home to Texas? Why don't you just play right into my heart? He's been emailing me about the job already and I just sent his resume yesterday, and watch, he won't even get an interview now, and I'll have to tell him.

My job sucks. You just can't CARE about people. It has to be all business, no emotional attachments. So much for doing good.

Now I'm wondering...what do I even have to look forward to? Nothing. A big fat ZERO. Life isn't fair. Good things don't happen to good people. I guess that's a big fat "duh".

And I'm not doing anything to better the world, that's for sure. I thought I was, but I'm not. I'm just a capitalist salesman like every other "salespuke" like Mark calls them.

And tomorrow is another day in the life of the hell I live. I'll just go through the motions until another day is completed and my death is one day closer.

Out of Control/In Control

Okay, I know I'm still freaking out over the body weight thing.

I think I got your BMI confused with your body fat %. If your Body Mass Index is 25 or over (whatever that is), then you're obese. We have a scale that shows both your body fat and your weight, and Mark said his body fat was like...27% or something. This is NOT good news. I tried it, and not only did I gain 5 pounds over the weekend from taking too much Seroquel and eating everything, but my body fat percentage is THIRTY TWO PERCENT.

I wonder what it was before I lost 45 pounds? Was it the same?

Mark's BMI is over 25 - meaning he's what doctors would call "obese". Mine isn't, it's like...22. I know this because you have to be at least 25 or over to purchase Phentermine online. So what's the difference?

So maybe I'm not technically "obese". Maybe my trainer really WAS trying to calm me down when my body fat % came up to be 29 1/2, and she then took off 4 1/2 points making it 25%. I'm not really 25% body fat. I'm really around 30%. goal will now be to lose weight AND to lose 1% of body fat each month that I weigh.

Okay. I feel in control again.


What was I thinking?

Did I actually think that a "Health Check" to get a work-out program at the gym with a trainer would be okay?

I don't know why I just happily walked to the gym, changed clothes, asked someone to help me find my trainer, and then plopped up on the doctor-like bench for a "health check" without hesitation. I answered a questionnaire and answered it all correctly EXCEPT "do you take any medication?". Well of course, I obviously answered "no". And so would anyone else in my predicament. I'm not explaining to her that I'm BIPOLAR!

My trainer asked me what I ate each day. Well, I was just honest, and looking back, I have NO IDEA WHY. I tell NO ONE what I eat every day each day. I started out by telling her I had lost 45 pounds (I was going somewhere with this...this is why I was at the gym - to tone up, right?), and then told her what I ate every day. Mistake. She then tries to scare me, and then tries to convince me that I shouldn't just be eating 3 meals a day, or 4, or 5, but be eating ALL DAY LONG. Are you kidding me? She started by telling me how to modify my diet, not change it completely. Substitute yogurt for protein bar. Instead of an egg mcmuffin for breakfast, maybe try an English muffin with peanut butter. She then told me how, when we went out to do the "tests", I would see how my body would react from the way I'd been eating. That's when she started trying to scare the crap out of me.

After that is when I really freaked out, and she knew it, trust me. Now that I think about it, I kind of feel sorry for her. She had NO IDEA what she was getting herself into when giving this simple "health check" to a new gym member. She got out the measuring tape which, in itself, I could care less. I could go buy a stupid measuring tape, what do I care? I really don't. It's how my clothes fit that matter. It was the NEXT item that had me freaking out in that little room. I'm sure everyone has seen these and have had them used on them before - it's those fat pincher plier things. It was in a case with a clear glass lid, and she opened it, and started pinching the back of my upper arm, my thigh, and my STOMACH! Mark doesn't even get to touch my stomach. I sleep with a pillow between him and myself so he doesn't feel my stomach against him. Yes, that's really true. So this time, I was watching what she was writing down on my chart, and she wrote down the first number from my upper arm. 23. My mouth must have dropped open. 23% fat? But no, that was actually GOOD comparably. Something else was 24 1/2, my thigh was 25, and this is when I lost it. My stomach was TWENTY NINE. I panicked! She did this formula, came up with about 29 1/2, said to take off 4/12 to 5, and it left about 25% fat. I said "I'm OBESE! I know that 25 and over is obese, and I'm OBESE! I can't believe I'm obese!". I think I was screeching. She started to calm me down and said "you could look like a stick and have the same measurements. They mean NOTHING, and we'll never measure them again, that's how little they mean. The only reason we'd ever do it is if you were just curious." But I'm still in shock. 29?? 29?? I keep seeing the number 29 written down on that form. I said "I know you're supposed to be between 18 - 20%", and she actually said "no, really a woman should be between 12 - 18% body fat". That didn't freak me out so much because, after all, she's a trainer. It's like going to a cow farm and asking them how many glasses of milk you should drink every day. What do you expect them to say? Of course they are going to go way on the side that benefits them the most.

So we did all of these little "tests" in a room with a ball and other gadgets, and she's forming a work-out plan for me that we'll go over on Wednesday. I've never had a trainer that did it this way. Usually, a trainer will take me to a machine, show me how to use it, I get on it, we decide what weight to use, they write it down on my "work out card" that I use every day, then I move to the next machine. This is different. I did all of these "tests" that didn't make a lot of sense to me, and now with the data that she wrote down that I don't understand how she measured, she's creating a plan. I'm telling you....this gym is DIFFERENT. But for $73/month, I guess it should be, yes? She told me realistically not to expect to see results for 6 months after she gives me my plan and we go through it. She said a lot of people workout for one or two months, don't see the results they expect, and quit. She's right - that's exactly what I've done in the past.

So...if the workout plan isn't too hard to figure out with the equipment and isn't too demeaning in front of other people, I'll do it. Every day. During lunch. Instead of eating lunch. I don't care what she says.

She said you can't lose weight without eating all day. I beg to differ. How did I lose 45 pounds then? She kept saying over and over to eat constantly, but how can I? She said yes, I would feel bloated for the first few weeks, but there was no way that her program wouldn't make the weight just fall off of me. And, she guaranteed that I wouldn't be able to eat what I eat right now on her program anyway. She said I would get too hungry. Hello? Does she not know I take Zonegran and Adderall and Phentermine? Oh yeah. I said "no" next to medication.

All in all, I'm still traumatized at the 29. But...I'm excited about getting a personalized work-out regime made for me from whatever tests she gave me today. She measured my "core" - that was one test - what the hell does that mean?

She doesn't know it, but she just threw me into a full blown....eating panic. I could have handled the 23, and then worked on my new workout regime. But the 29?

Never. I'll never get used to the 29. But now I feel weird. I've been eating sugar for breakfast and dinner? I have? NOW what do I eat? I don't have anything to eat now. I'm confused, and I'm just not putting anything in my mouth because I can't think of anything that I approve of?

I guess a Lean Cuisine? Hell, I don't know. It's not like I have a carrot laying around the house, and that doesn't fill me up, anyway.

I'm so confused. I'll just play it by ear day to day, I guess.

This probably seems SO SMALL and MINUSCULE to anyone reading this, but you have no idea. To me, this is HUGE.

This is one area I had control over - complete control. I just lost my control. I've got to get it back somehow. I don't know what she did or said or what was done, but it's gone. I'm not pigging out, that's not what I mean. But I don't feel like I'm the master over my body anymore. This is tough. I guess the only thing I know to do is work out now. That's the only thing, along with eating less, that will make the 29 go down.


I read a lot of blogs when I have time, usually on weekends, and usually just the last one or two entries.

One HUGE difference of a bipolar blog and a non-bipolar blog is the insistence of using music lyrics to explain how they FEEL. I'm totally guilty of this. I don't really see it on other blogs. We feel music - most importantly, the music we "get" are the songs that we relate to poetically.

Why is this, I wonder? It's only an observation, but it's a huge observation. I noticed this several weeks ago, so I've been picking Mark's brain apart when we're listening to the radio going anywhere in his car (he's quite abused when it comes to being analyzed), and I'll say "why do you like this song?" all the time. Today, he said "I wrote the words to this song." I found that interesting. What "moved" him so much to say he could have written the lyrics to the song, and it related to his life that much?

The song was "Far Away" by Nickelback. I knew the words. Nickelback is one of my favorite groups. I asked him...."so who did you write this for? Carol? (his ex-wife), Misty? (ex-girlfriend), surely not me, I haven't gone anywhere, or did you mean it in a different context?"

He had no answer. What did he say? "I don't really know what this song is about. I just like it." I asked him how did he KNOW if he liked it THAT much if he didn't know what it was about? He said it just didn't matter to him. He didn't care.

How do you go from "I wrote the words to this song" said passionately, to "I don't know what this song is about, I just like it"? My favorite songs are my favorite songs BECAUSE of the words. I mean sure, silly songs will get in there like "Baby Got Back" or something ridiculous (blast from the past, eh?), but it's not in my top 100. I will HATE a song, find out what it MEANS, and it suddenly becomes my current favorite song - like Hate Me by Blue October.

People don't LISTEN to what the singer is trying to say, and don't care. That drives me insane.

I've never seen it happen as bad as it has with Pearl Jam. People get MARRIED to the song "Better Man". It's a song about abuse in a relationship! People celebrate life with the song "Alive". Are you kidding me? He's saying "do I deserve to be alive? Is that the question? And if so, who answers?" That's a celebration? However, I must admit, if I were at a Pearl Jam concert and he played Alive, you bet your ass I'd be celebrating that he was playing one of my all time favorite songs and be screaming at the top of my lungs!

I think, as bipolars, we want so badly to feel a CONNECTION. And fortunately for us, artists FEEL more than other people, just like we do, so we really CAN relate more than other people.

It's interesting stuff - pay attention when you're reading blogs as to who uses lyrics to express themselves, and who doesn't.

Here's the lyrics to what people get MARRIED TO - "Better Man" by Pearl Jam. I swear I'm not making it up that they get married to this song (probably the first dance, etc.) Men have played this song as they've PROPOSED to their girlfriends - true story! Just because a song says "Can't find a better man" doesn't mean that's what the song is really about. I know Eddie Vedder mumbles when he sings, but my God...

Waitin', watchin' the clock
It's four o'clock, it's got to stop
Tell him, take no more

She practices her speech, as he opens the door
She rolls over
Pretends to sleep as he looks her over

She lies and says she's in love with him
Can't find a better man
She dreams in color, she dreams in red
Can't find a better man, can't find a better man

Talkin', to herself there's no one else
Who needs to know she tells herself...
Memories back when she was bold and strong
And waiting for the world to, come along
Swears she knew it, now she swears he's gone

She loved him
She don't want to leave this way
She feeds him
That's why she'll be back again
Can't find a better man...

What is really ME?

I drank too much coffee and, coupled with my Adderall, it has given me the spins and I feel nauseous. I just took 100mg of Seroquel, Geoden, and 3 Klonipin, and am about to head up to bed, hopefully for the night. Yes, it's probably an abuse of my medication, but what's wrong with decided to to go bed at 5p instead of 9:30 when I don't feel good?

I've decided I'm TIRED of analyzing every mood, every thought, every action, to see what is my bipolar disorder, and what is really me. I AM bipolar, so therefore, isn't every action, mood and thought ME? I know what I've always said..."bipolar isn't WHO I am, but WHAT I am...", and I still believe that.

But I'm overanalyzing everything. I just want to BE for a change, without worrying what is what. If I'm depressed, then I'm sure eventually I'll figure it out. If I'm hypo, well...eventually I'll figure that out too.

All of these little "signs" I try to head off before they blow up...well, maybe they just aren't THERE. Maybe it's just me being me. Sure, I'm a little screwed up, but who's to say what's normal?

I just want to FEEL, and feel normal because I feel something, not guilty and worry that something is wrong with me.

Is that SOO terrible? Why do doctors make us think that it is?


...for all the nice comments - those who commented - you're right. Maybe I WAS being too hard on myself yesterday. I'm just that way...I don't know why. Are all bipolars that way? I think least, I find that when I read others' blogs, they seem to be really hard on themselves too?

Last night, I was upset with myself for missing parts of two days of work, and Mark started telling me I should be like the schizophrenic man in "A Beautiful Mind". He said I should just "make up my mind to overcome the disease". That pissed me off, but I knew how to get back at him. I said..."You're right. He went off his medication, and learned to live a successful life without it. The medication was holding him back, just like mine is keeping me from getting to work on time. I'll try that, I've been wanting to stop taking it anyway". He flipped out, but tried to pretend he wasn't flipping out. I kept saying over and over again how he had such a great idea and I would start tapering off immediately, and I was going make my mind up to overcome this on my own! He said I got out of control without my medicine, didn't I remember? And did I really think that was a good idea? SURE! I said. It ruined the man's life, just like it's ruining mine! He asked "what about your depression?", and I said (very sarcastically) "ok, one time IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I've been in the psych ward for suicidal depression. What are the chances THAT is going to happen again? It never did before, so why should I think it will? Besides, I'm making my mind up to beat this." His reply? "I guess you weren't there when it was happening (well, obviously I was THERE, but I knew what he meant), but it was bad...", and he got pretty upset. I know he went through hell during that time period, and I appreciate everything he did more than he knows. But make my mind up to beat this? If my mind wasn't already made up to beat this, I wouldn't be getting out of bed every day, going to work (and working 45- 50 hours a week!) and being productive. For many bipolars, that in itself is a tremendous accomplishment, I know that, and I work very hard at it. It gives me self esteem that I'm "okay", does that make sense? He really pissed me off, though. I think I scared him enough that he won't say THAT again. He will forever be scared that I'll stop taking my medication. I know that for a fact. He honest-to-God thinks I will kill myself if I don't take medication. Is that true? I don't know. There's only one way to find out, right? I'm not going to take that chance, but I'll threaten to do it if he brings up bull crap like that again.

I watched the dreaded "Cody videos" (actually, they're discs?) tonight that I've avoided since he died in February - they've terrified me! I thought I would break down and be forever devastated if I watched them! But tonight, I told Mark to get out his video/CD camera and we should watch the Cody videos. He said no, he wasn't ready. So he showed me how to use the camera, and I did it by myself. I needed closure. I needed to get past those videos that haunted me. So I watched them, cried some, laughed more than cried because Mark is such a dork when he's behind a camera. Maybe I can move on now. I feel stronger about it somehow. But what I saw in the CD's was what I miss - a family. Mark, Cody and I made a little family, and I think that's what tore me apart. That's why it's been so hard to get over. A family member has been ripped from our lives. He wasn't just a dog, he was like our son, as much as a dog can be without my knowing what having a child is like. People say having a child puts things, such as pets, in perspective for you. But what if you don't have a child, and a pet isn't put in perspective, as people claim? It's the closest thing that I know to having a child? I don't know anything else. I saw that we were a family of three, and now we're two.

Okay, warning. This probably isn't going to be PC (politically correct) but SOMEONE needs to say it, and I'm analyzing it to DEATH!

I watched the first episode of Survivor last night, where the tribes are separated by ethnicity. All I have to say is...what's up with the black tribe choosing to put someone from the white tribe on exile island? The new rule is, whatever team comes in LAST gets to choose one member from any tribe to send to "exile island" for two days. So...the Hispanic tribe came in first, the Asian tribe came in second, the Caucasian, oh heck, the white tribe came in third, and can I just say black or do I have to say African American? tribe came in last. Since the black tribe came in last, they got to choose one member from any tribe to send to exile island. Now...maybe I'm just stupid here, but if it were me, I would choose someone from the strongest tribe - maybe the tribe that just won the first competition, like the Hispanic tribe? NOOOOO. The black tribe picked the tribe who came in second to last - the white tribe, and sent a man from there to exile island. Now what is up with THAT? The white tribe is SO STUPID that they didn't even make shelter on the first day and laid on leaves "spooning" each other to sleep! Mark and I couldn't help but laugh at them and say "are you waiting on someone to BUILD you a shelter? What is WRONG with you??" So that's the team that was chosen to send a member to exile island for two days? During the whole show, Mark and I laughed and laughed at the four tribes, we couldn't help it. I felt like we were back in grade school and someone was saying the word "boob". I think we were the roughest on our own "tribe" - the "Caucasians". I don't think they picked the brightest people for this tribe. But back to my original issue. Why did the black tribe choose to send someone from the white tribe to exile island, instead of a tribe that beat both the black and white tribes, like the Hispanics or the Asians? It didn't make any sense, unless you start thinking about it in terms of discrimination in America. Perhaps those in the black tribe felt discriminated against the most by those in the white tribe, so they wanted to put them out first, regardless of who came in first, second, third, fourth. I heard something about a "chicken", but come on, seriously?

It's really got me thinking about things....I mean, I already was when I heard about this year's Survivor, which I haven't watched since the first season, but BAM! Right in your face on the first episode? What if all the tribes feel like they have a certain tribe to get rid of based on bias, not on performance? Like...what if the white tribe believes the Asian tribe to be superior intellectually in general, and no matter what place they are in each competition, they will always decide to send them to exile island if they place last? Wouldn't that be WEIRD? I don't see things that way, I mean...the Asian tribe wouldn't see it that way, right? The Hispanic tribe wouldn't, right? But, does the black tribe? Does the white tribe? What other things am I missing that exist that I don't even KNOW? I'm only saying this because I'm trying to understand why the black tribe chose someone on the team that came last only to you on exile island. There's something I'm missing, right? It's not all about getting back on "the man who holds us down" kind of it? I told you this wasn't PC. I'm being as honest as I possibly can be, and am simply saying what many are thinking but aren't saying.

So then I started analyzing the commercials. Who would choose to advertise during this show? So I saw a Gap commercial, and thought...what's up with THAT? Are they exploiting this opportunity to say they are racially friendly and break the stereotype and show diversity (and there's plenty of diversity in a Gap store - just go there and see for yourself)? Why are car companies choosing the ethnicity that they are to represent their cars during the show? Weird stuff like that. I know one sponsor pulled out, but I don't remember who.

I never liked Survivor EITHER, but this is fascinating. I was taking it all in as a joke until the black tribe exiled the white man, and then it wasn't a joke anymore. I know that no one "race" will win, because they'll merge the tribes once, then twice, until it's finally one tribe and then one person will win, but for right now, it's quite the social experiment.


I pride myself on being bipolar and still being a "productive member of society".

Yesterday and today, I didn't get to work on time. Yesterday, I got to work around 12:30. Today, it was 10:30. To be truthful, I was sick, but not THAT sick. I think I was taking allergy pills and they weren't letting me fall asleep, so I'd take more medicine, and then couldn't wake up to go to work the next morning.

So that's two mornings in a row. What did I do? I just went into work without any makeup on purpose and people thought I was still sick. They think I made a valliant attempt to try to come in to work when I'm sick, I guess. They think I should have stayed home altogether yesterday. I honestly do not know.

I feel like I've failed. This disease kicked me in the ass once more.

I'm bipolar, and once again, I'm reminded of it.

I can't just take for granted that I'll be at work at 8:00a every morning, because it's a real struggle for me each and every morning. I've tweaked my medications for 5 years so that I rarely have "Seroquel hangovers", but I gave myself one two days in a row. I was stupid.

Mark even told me "you can't take any medicine because you know what will happen - you'll just have to try to fall asleep somehow - whatever you're thinking, put it away somewhere". Put it away somewhere? Does he not realize what he's saying? I'm bipolar. Going to sleep at night can be a nightmare because my brain won't SHUT OFF. If I frickin' KNEW how to "put what I was thinking somewhere", would I need all this medication to fall asleep at night? It won't shut up, any night of any day of the week! There's no "off" button!

So...I failed. All I can do is pick myself up and move on. But...I really was sick - I had some kind of allergy issue or something which is why I was taking allergy pills to begin with.

I just don't feel like I'm doing well at work at all. I guess I feel like a failure in general.

Even with my weight, I feel like I'm blowing up like a big huge balloon.

Like I said, a big fat failure at everything.

Rockstar Supernova

Tonight is the "season finale" of Rockstar Supernova, which I've watched from the beginning. While I like some more than others, it doesn't really matter to me who wins. This is NOT a band that I will be listening to, if anyone watches this show.

From the music I've heard and the members themselves and the way they dress, it's like a nightmare hard rock metal band from the 80's. I swear one day I saw Tommy Lee with his t-shirt arm sleeves rolled up like they did in the 80's. I'm waiting for a bandana tied around their ankles.

Whoever does NOT win, they should count their blessings. Hopefully they will get a record contract as a solo artist, and steer clear of the outdated overaged rockers. Don't get me wrong - I'm not saying they aren't talented, and I LOVE listening to the Eagles or Paul McCartney and many others. But this is a brand new band STARTING OUT.

It's been entertaining to watch though. They've sung a lot of my favorite songs. I'm sad it will be ending.

Even sadder yet is that Mike "Boogie" won Big Brother! Ack!

Not that I'm into reality television or anything. :-)

Home Sick

I was sick yesterday, so I took a "butt-load" of medicine. I had taken 2 allergy pills of my boss's, got home, took 2 cold pills and 2 benadryl, and went to bed. I think because of the non-drowsy allergy pills, my drugged body wanted to sleep, but my eyes were wide open. So I got up, took 50mg more of Seroquel and 2 klonipin.

Bad move.

I woke up at 5:30 and could hardly focus or walk. I called in and explained what happened (without the Seroquel part) and went back to bed. I woke up at 9:30 - nope, still out of it. Woke up again after 11 - yep, I could get ready for work.

I got to work around 12:30, and found out my boss was on the warpath. According to everyone who sits in our little room, he hasn't been so mean or ugly in months. He, conveniently for me, left to take his daughter to her driver's license test at 11:30, and wasn't there. I couldn't work, I don't know why. Yes, I felt bad, but not THAT bad. People were saying I "looked like hell", and sure, my nose was a bit red, but I had also purposely not put on makeup, either. #1 - I didn't want anything on my face that might irritate it, and #2 sure, I wanted to look like I was sick.

I couldn't focus. I don't know if it was because I didn't feel well, or because I just hate my job now. I've been telling myself "you don't have to be #1", "it's WHAT you do, not HOW you're doing", but it's not so easy for me. I said I was still feeling really bad (they believed me - I looked like "hell", right?) and that if I wanted to go home, I'd better do it before my boss got back and wouldn't let me. They agreed.

I haven't even gone to bed. Have I lost my edge? Do I just hate my job now? Will I be a clock watcher from now on?

I don't feel like I can be very successful right now. I *thought* I had a real talent for this. But now it seems like I don't, and I don't know what happened to my edge. Moving from agency to agency won't help the problem, I don't think.

What do I do?


I don't know what happened, but after lunch, I got sick AGAIN. It just felt like a horrible allergy attack, but I took 2 allergy pills, and they didn't affect it at all. I used about 100 tissues. I went to the bathroom and scrubbed all the makeup off my face thinking that would help, but it didn't. I was supposed to stay until 7:00p tonight, but I just couldn't. I don't think my boss was very happy.

Account Superstar and College Boy are now in their new office, and not in mine! Yahoo! No more harrassment!

Today was the first day I went to the gym, and I now see I have a big problem. I cannot change my clothes in front of other women. I mean...I DID, but I tried to cover myself up as much as possible and was SO uncomfortable. I need a boob job, liposuction, so many things. I don't even know why these women are THERE - they are all thin already - I didn't see a single overweight woman. And they're all so "perky", if you know what I mean. I am already incredibly uncomfortable with my body, and being seen naked in front of other women is excruciating. I found the restrooms, and might try that tomorrow - changing in there instead. I've got to figure out SOMETHING.

I can't believe I was on the treadmill for 30 minutes and only burned about 125 calories. That really sucks. I hope I can build up my endurance to where I am really jogging for a long period of time and burn more calories.

That's about it...except I don't know how to get over my body image issue at the gym.

Hodge Podge

9/11 is such a sad day for me, but it's also a celebration in a way, too. The obvious is sad - the people who's lives were lost. But for me, personally, this marks 5 years that I've been out of the psych ward (I remember I was on long term disability when 9/11 happened) and have never even come CLOSE to going back. So for me, it's a milestone. I've been doing something RIGHT for the past 5 years.

So 9/11 is very bittersweet to me. I listen to the radio, watch television, cry with the spouses who lost their partners, and celebrate my sanity at the same time. The whole day is reflective and introspective for today, exactly 5 years ago. I wasn't even able to COMPREHEND what was happening on 9/11 5 years ago. Everyone has these horrific memories of 9/11, where they were, what they were doing, and how it affected them for the next few weeks, month, or months. Me? I was woken up from a medication fog by Mark who called me around 11:00am, told to turn on the television, watched what happened, and tried to comprehend what I was seeing. I grabbed a pillow and blanket and laid on the couch, and I don't remember what I felt. I know how I felt AFTERWARDS, I remember feeling an incredible unity with all Americans afterwards, but on that particular day at that particular moment?

I wish I could remember. I wish I had this "moment" that everyone else does. Mine is a phone call, a television screen, and that's it. That's my memory. But most of that time period is blocked out of my memory. That's why I don't want to go watch one of those 9/11 movies. I'm too scared of what I'll remember.

Maybe it's time that I remember what I was feeling? 5 years is long enough to block out what I was thinking and feeling on that day at that time - IF there is anything.

Something good *may* happen. I don't mean this from a personal standpoint, although it would work out to be good personally. There's a man who supports his 3 kids and wife on a very modest salary. He applied for one job, I noticed one little line on his resume that he knew this special SAP skill (it's so specialized and rare, I can't even put it on my blog because my coworkers will search and find it), asked him about it, and he knew ALL about it - he's almost an expert. This large well known company has been on a country-wide search for months now looking for someone to do this job. He doesn't have a degree, and this same company is what I call a "degree whore", but I think in this one very incredibly rare instance, they just may waive it. If he gets the job, he'll get a $20k raise for his family! Isn't that exciting? :-) I hate getting emotionally attached, because THEN I have to go back and rip my heart out and tell them they didn't get the job, ripping THEIR hearts out, I imagine in my own head. I have said little prayers, though. He keeps talking to me about putting his kids in a better school district. How can you not cheer for the guy who wants a better life for his kids and his wife, with good manners and a polite southern drawl?

I felt really down like I couldn't do my job today. Eating Girl has thrown me off somehow. She is SO nice, I need to stop complaining about her and find a way that I can accept her in my mind so that she doesn't annoy me. I don't know how to block her out. She's always in a good mood, even though I know she's going through rough times. She actually admitted it today, though. She "eats just to eat." She says she's an obsessive compulsive person, and she's that way with eating. See! I told you so! It's CONSTANT. I'm really not kidding, here. I've been calling these people by their names in my blog for so long now that mentally I see them at work and think of them by my pretend names now.

But Account Superstar and College Boy are about to leave to a new office! No more harassment in the office by them! You don't even KNOW how relieved that makes me. I was just sitting there today thinking how much I disliked Account Superstar. His whole attitude, his demeanor, his smart-ass remarks. He thinks he's SO smart and clever and everyone should just kiss his ass. God help any girl that gets hired over there. Well, I say that, but why don't they harass Eating Girl (she's really thin, even though I call her Eating Girl) and Older Woman? I can't say it's because I put up with it, because there's never been a time when they had to put their foot down. Maybe I'm an easy target? Who cares, they'll be out soon enough!

I joined the "plush" gym at lunch today. I was wrong - it's not $80/month, it's $73/month. Still a lot of money, but when I thought about it - it's cheaper to be working out every day at lunch than shopping every day at lunch. You wouldn't believe this GYM, though! I've never seen anything like it. I really feel like a country hick girl when I'm there. It's the "walking through Nordstrom's" as a Kansas girl feeling all over again. I can't imagine ever feeling like I "blend in".

Gyms always call themselves "clubs", but this one is a true "club", in the way the word was meant. It has its' own restaurant, and you can tell them what you want before you workout, and they will bring it to you after your workout when you get out of the locker room! They do facials and massages, have a sauna and a spa and a whirlpool (wait, are those the same?), racquetball courts, squash courts (I couldn't tell the difference, is there?) of course a swimming pool, basketball court, what else. Oh, the stair steppers and treadmills have their own individual televisions on them with cable that you can turn the channels on - you just have to bring your own headphones. There are luxurious couches, chairs and televisions EVERYWHERE! People were just hanging out and talking - it was weird. I kept thinking...why are you here? Aren't you here to work out? There were a lot of people dressed normally, not in gym clothes. Like I said, very weird for a gym. I think I liked the locker room the best. Everything I had ever dreamed a locker room could ever be - and more - was this locker room. It was almost better than being in my own bathroom - but of course, no one is just sitting there to give facials in my own bathroom. I asked the lady I was with "Are there really THIS many people in our building?". I am such an idiot. I forget all the time WHERE I work. No..."upscale neighborhood" uses this gym, and "expensive university" students come to this gym.

Maybe this is just as much for people to meet and hang out, as it is for people to workout. There were almost as many "club" areas as workout areas. I honestly have never seen anything like it. I've lived in this city for like...18 years now. I never knew it existed, nor have I heard anyone mention it. I guess my friends and I just don't hang out at places like this. Haha - as if I have friends. I used to, and I always do, when I'm not in a relationship.

What happens once you get into a relationship to your friends? They become so distant for some reason.

I can't think of any bipolar symptoms I had today that I can recognize, except being down about my job.

Tomorrow is the first official day I work out, and the next day is when a trainer will do my "health check". I wonder what in the heck a "health check" will include? They asked me if I also wanted a nutritionist to evaluate my meals and make suggestions for free. Are you kidding me? Mess with my DIET??? That's a no-brainer. NO ONE tells me what to eat and what not to eat. And exactly what would the nutritionist have to say about my DIET? Somehow, I think he/she would be disapproving. I had to think really hard if I wanted to put down my true weights for "now", "last year", and "five years ago". I didn't know what the repercussions were for whatever I put. I was thrown into this situation without being prepared.

I didn't have control. It was scary, seriously.

Age and Weight - Never ask a Woman?

No one ever answered if they felt uncomfortable in their age. Am I the only one? Maybe it's been on my mind so much because College Boy (just graduated from college) and Account Superstar have been giving me such a hard time about it at work. They've been trying to guess how old I am, and I simply refuse to say. What's the point? I don't see Account Superstar divulging his age. I have no idea how old he is, nor am I about to ask him, and he never says. College Boy is 24, although he is always very embarrassed to say so. My boss is 45 - he says it all the time. Eating Girl is 35, she says it all the time, too. Older Woman, I have no idea. She won't say - she's smart. She said she has a daughter my age, but she doesn't know how old I am? I'm guessing she's 50-ish, with a much younger personality.

College Boy, always thinking he is SO clever, but he's so immature and transparent, asked me what I listened to when I graduated from high school. I told him contemporary Christian music, which is true. He asked me who? I said Amy Grant, Michael W. Smith. I realized I wasn't giving him much to go on, and I could just TELL THEM how old I am, but I just CAN'T. I'm humiliated or something, I can't explain it. Is it because Mark's younger, and not older?

I finally lied. I said I listened to Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Stone Temple Pilots. He said "Did you hear that Account Superstar? Who she listened to when she graduated from high school?"

What does it even matter? Is it because I just won't TELL them? But why do they even ASK? I am not dumb enough to bring the subject up myself.

So I lied, and then I just felt worse. Did they believe my lie, or did everyone know I was lying?

I got home that day and asked Mark "when you graduated from high school, were Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Stone Temple Pilots popular?". He's 7, practically 8 years younger than I am. He thought about it for a minute, and said "yeah, I guess they were - that sounds about right, and my favorite song was Plush".

I looked it up on the internet...I had taken off about 5-7 years. I was thinking of a time period in my mind when I still felt like I could have been in high school, and used that as a reference.

Now I feel like a fool. Everyone probably knew I lied.

I'm so insecure. No matter what it is about myself, I'm insecure. My age, my weight, my intelligence (I know that I'm incredibly smart, yet think everyone THINKS I'm not), and just everything.

I have no control over any of this. I hate what I've become (key in Nine Inch Nails song), yet there's nothing I can do to stop it. I read people's blogs, and if I look back in mine, I know I'll see where I said the same thing, that if they, or I, just lost weight, all of my, or their, problems will go away. We wouldn't be depressed if we weren't fat. But it's not true. Take away being fat, and what do you have? The feelings are STILL THERE, but now you have nothing to direct them towards. You find out you just hate yourself.

That's all that's left. Yet, weight is the only thing I can control - I can't control anything else.

I'm scared that I'm figuring all of this out about myself and it will make me start eating a lot and gain weight, isn't that crazy? What if I actually start GAINING instead of LOSING?

It's such a complicated hate yourself if you eat, you still hate yourself when you don't, but at least you feel like you're working TOWARDS something. Maybe I still have the old belief that "if I could just...." I would like myself again.

Dirty Jobs

I watch this show called "Dirty Jobs" on the Discovery Channel. Mark got me interested in it. I watched one episode awhile back that made me want to throw up, and never wanted to watch it again.

But you know how those things go. You sit down, someone is watching something, and you get sucked in. Well, he Tivo's Dirty Jobs, and I got sucked in.

Now it's one of my favorite shows. So why am I blogging about it? It not because it's funny, but it DOES happen to be HILARIOUS! I've laughed SO MUCH watching that show! The host, Mike Rowe, makes the whole show. (I swear I'm not getting paid for this)

But most importantly, I've learned a lot. I've learned about hard physical work, obviously, since all the work is blue collar. I've learned about animals. I've learned about history. I've learned about people and heritage.

I've learned, from a segment he just did, to appreciate our men and women in uniform and what they must be battling in war right now.

One thing he said today, during an "out-take" caught my attention and really hit home.

He kept saying to himself, when he was making mistakes, "It's now HOW you're doing, it's WHAT you're doing", trying to get himself to focus.

I thought....yes, that's so true. I get caught up all the time in HOW I'm doing that I forget about WHAT I'm doing. Especially at work. At work, "how" I'm doing can ruin my entire day, and affect "what" I'm doing, and the productivity completely!

I also learned, on his website, something called a "prison workout". He is in REALLY good shape, but is in hotels about 250 days out of the year. He explained how he did it, and to start with 10 reps (it's not complicated, and just one fluid motion), take a 30 second break, go down to 9 reps, then 8, etc. So I started at 10 reps, right? Well, I finished the 10. That was it. I couldn't do anymore. And it's QUICK to do just one rep. But I'm telling you, 10 wiped me out. I was panting like a dog, and no way was I going back for 9 reps.

I think I'll start doing the "prison workout" (he's walking proof that it works), but I'm still joininig the gym. I need to get on a health kick.

Anyways - "Dirty Jobs" is a cool show. :-)

Okay, so I'm gross!

I suggested we go to the grocery store, and Mark pointed out to me that I'm on Day 3 of wearing the same shirt. I looked down, and I'm still wearing the same Polo t-shirt that I wore to work on Friday. Which means, yes, I haven't showered or changed my clothes (or used deodorant) since Friday morning. I haven't even brushed my hair! Have I brushed my teeth? I don't even remember. Probably not. Okay, so I'm gross and disgusting, and how he lives with me and still loves me without being repulsed, I have no idea.

But I didn't mean go to the grocery store right this SECOND. And I DO have an excuse. I slept in the shirt on Friday night, got up and was sick yesterday and went back to bed before 7:30 and slept through the night, and now I'm doing laundry. Why not wait until I've finished and folded all of the laundry before I bathe and everything? I'm in a "groove" now.

I told him of course I wouldn't go to the grocery store right now. People would think I'd just been to a burnt bar-b-que. He laughed. Well, it's better than thinking I haven't bathed or changed my clothes since Friday morning at 6:00am!


Everyone at work has been sneezing and has had runny noses, been coughing, sick from work, etc. The news has been saying it's because of the drought we had, then the rain, and it's caused the pollen count to be at astronomical levels. People who have had or do have allergy problems are out of control I've noticed.

Now I'm sick, too. I had a horrible headache, Mark mentioned it was the changing weather and it was a sinus headache, and I realized....yeah, it was, I felt drainage or something. I took 2 benadryl, sat under my face mister with eucalyptus oil and breathed in deeply to clear my sinuses, and it helped somewhat. It's just now I still have a headache - less than it was - and I feel weird. Just not very good, maybe from the Benadryl?

I went ahead and took my nighttime meds (it wasn't even 7:30p), and took 100mg of Seroquel instead of 50. I want to be OUT and for the rest of the night, too.

Whatever I have, it's uncomfortable and I can't put my finger on how I feel except yucky, and I want it to be gone when I wake up.

So, goodnight, at least, I hope it will be goodnight very soon. I don't want to be sick all weekend, and I CAN NOT miss work on Monday. That's just not acceptable where I work.


It's been bugging me. This whole 129.5 thing. No matter how you look at it, 129.5 is still 130.
True, it's a far cry from weighing 175.5 (can you tell I have a digital scale?), but I still SEE the same person in the mirror.

I've been judging my weight on how my OLD clothes used to fit. Not the clothes pre-medication, because I can wear those and some are even too big, but the clothes pre-Mark. I still can't button most of them, some I can't even zip and am not even close to it. And then I thought...well duh, 130 is still far away from 125 or 115. Even 5 pounds when you weigh 130 makes a huge difference. addition to my normal eating habits, on Monday, I'm going to sign up for the gym at work. The downside to that is it's a ritzy gym and costs $80/month, when I already have a lifetime membership to Bally's that costs maybe $80 - $100 a YEAR to renew. But it's' not in the building where I work, and I couldn't just use my lunchtime to workout - a time that I've been needing to fill since I don't eat anyway, and can't shop every single day so I don't have to work through lunch and/or explain why I don't eat lunch.

If I start working out at lunchtime, that should boost my metabolism, and hopefully I'll get out of this rut of losing 2.5 pounds per month when most days I eat 600 - 900 calories a day. Sure, some days I have more, but a few days during the month I only have 300 calories, too.

We'll see how this works. Mark has already said the $80 has to come out of "my money", and not the joint checking account because of the Bally's membership and $80 being way too high for a monthly fee, he thinks. But...the gym is supposed to be super duper nice - I'll check it out on Monday. I guess it doesn't really matter, does it? It's my only option.

Yes, I already know I'm obsessing about weight, I'm not eating enough, blah blah. I REALIZE that. But it's a habit - it's a pattern. I have control over my eating habits, and I'm not going to give up that control. I do relinquish it a bit on the weekends, and that's always when I get sick with stomach cramps. It's when I don't stick to my regiment that makes me sick. And when going out to dinner, I've learned to put my fork down when I'm full. It's so easy now, when I never could do that in the past. Like I said....control.

Who HONESTLY would want to give up control over what they ate and/or put in their mouth? The problem is...for anyone else, the way I eat, they'd lose 15 pounds or more a month. But me, no. I lose 2.5. And that's if I'm lucky!

So the gym has to be the answer. I've been lazy until now. Besides, getting exercise is good for me.

Once I reach a weight that's satisfactory, I'll just go back to eating normally again. But I also need to remember I shouldn't take what I weigh for granted. I did that, then doubled my Seroquel, and boom - one month I gained 11 pounds. I have to be EXTRA careful.

This is so how I feel...

I don't care if it hurts.
I want to have control.
I want a perfect body...
I want a perfect soul.
("Creep" - Radiohead - that song is STILL in my head)

Eating Girl...and American Idol!!! :-)

Ace Young from American Idol! Pictures of Ace do him NO JUSTICE. You cannot see how gorgeous and how much charisma he has unless you see him in person. And that hair!!! I thought I was going to have to tell Mark it was off when Ace looked my way, but then I realized he was probably waving at the 10 year old sitting next to me...

But first...

There's a girl at work I can't STAND. She sits right next to me, too. I call her "Eating Girl", because she's always frickin' eating, even when she's talking on the phone! Usually it's something in pieces like peanuts that she grabs a handful of and drops into her mouth with her head tilted. And chews while she's on the phone!

And people can't just walk by her while she works. Every damn time someone walks by, she HAS to stop what she's doing, and say SOMETHING. "Hey so-and-so, that's a cute skirt", "Hey, what are you up to?" or any asinine thing she thinks of to say, breaking her concentration, and not helping mine in the process.

I can't explain why it annoys me so much. And in sales, the idea is not to work for a "pat on the back", you know? She doesn't GET IT. She's constantly trying to gain the approval of 2 people - my boss (the owner) and another Account Manager (I'll call him Respected Account Manager, because I respect him for teaching me so much about SAP). She has a crush, she told me, on Respected Account Manager, and whenever he comes over, she just stops what she's doing and turns her head all the way around and says "Hello, Respected Account Manager...." dreamily, and doesn't just go back to work, even though he hasn't even said hello back. I mean, he's happily married, and says so!

She sounds like she's about 21, right? Nope. 35. And her boyfriend treats her like shit, so she says with the stories she tells (this annoys me too) and she talks about it all the time, and then she calls him ALL THE TIME on the phone and says so nicely "what do you want for dinner?" "what are you doing right now?". She TELLS me she's moving out and has an apartment picked out, but she won't move out until she has this $700 mark on her credit scrubbed off from a past apartment complex that she owes so she can put down a deposit on a new apartment. Are you kidding me? If I wanted to be away from someone that badly, I'd pay that damn $700 and move on with my life. What a lame excuse.

With my boss, she says things all day to try and gain his approval. He just doesn't care. He's not that kind of person. Make him money, and he'll be satisfied with you. And I don't know WHY he has singled me out to work on SAP only (placing SAP professionals get recruiting firms higher margins) and encourage me all the frickin time to work on it, but he's convinced I just "get it" better than all the other recruiters and doesn't want me working on anything else. He'll even TELL me "you don't want to be working on that." But he never says it to HER. I think that's exactly what she wants. She wants him to treat her the way he treats me, but I didn't ask for it. I don't want it. Yes, I want to know that I'm doing "okay" and not about to be thrown on my butt without a job and that I'm headed in the right direction, but that's it. She is always saying "Owner, I got x amount of resumes out today!" (because he'll say during the day "can no one beat KansasSunflower in getting resumes out?"), but he doesn't respond. I don't know WHY this is. She's almost doubled the amount of resumes out this month than I have, but he's said nothing except "good day today on getting resumes out" half-heartedly to her ONCE.

Maybe it's her jealous attitude towards ME that is making me annoyed. I don't know, but I can't stand it. I don't even want to be near her. She makes me gag. But the thing is...she's not mean or anything. Why do I not like someone who's not mean? That's just not like me. I usually like everyone who's friendly. This is what's so strange. I don't hate her. She's not a bad person. Just the sight of her ANNOYS me.

Other than that, the American Idol concert was AWESOME! :-) Mark and I had a great time. We had seats in the front center section in Row G, which meant the 7th row, center seats. Well, they got rid of rows A, B and C, which meant we had 4th row center seats! It was amazing. I screamed so hard I was hoarse. Mark had never been to a real concert before because he hates crowds, and he loved it. How can you not love a concert sitting in 4th row center seats? Who even feels like you're in a crowd? haha - that's exactly what he said, though. Ace was SO cute - I mean, he was WAY cuter than on American Idol. Whenever he was on stage, that's all I watched. And Mark and I were BOTH in for a treat. BOTH of our favorite songs from the season were sung (sang?). Katherine McPhee sand "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" - and I actually like HER singing it better than the original, and I was SO happy. When Mark heard her sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" on American Idol, he was just in love with her voice singing that song. He wanted to BUY IT. And she sang it. I glanced at him slightly while she was singing it so he wouldn't see me to see if it was a "moment" for him, knowing he'd NEVER had a "concert moment" before, and it was. You should have seen his eyes - mesmerized in her singing that song. I was so happy that he was having a good time. :-) Ace though...he was worth it. Well, not $850 like Mark finally told me he paid for our seats but...well, ok. As a birthday present, it was worth it. :-)

Weighed Today

I weighed this morning, and I did it! I'm down to 129.5! (Don't you like the .5? :-) ). That's only 2.5 pounds I lost in an entire MONTH, but that's okay. I actually ate MORE this month (I think) than I did in previous months, and ended up losing the same amount. No matter what I do, I still lose the same amount (except for when I gained over 11 pounds in April, I think?)

That would mean I would be down to my goal sometime around Thanksgiving, just in time to gain some back! I hope not.

I haven't been in the 120's (even though it's 129.5) in YEARS. Let's see if I can mentally maintain it this month.

Cody, yes, AGAIN.

There's a time period that I can't escape. It won't let me. I will be in a perfectly good mood, a song from that time period will play, and in an instant, I will completely feel like breaking down. On the way home from work, "Bad Day" started playing, and it took maybe a millisecond to go from pretty good to great mood to almost sobbing. No tears came - but a huge lump in my throat formed and I could feel my eyes get moist. Is this normal? Honest to God, during that time period in my life, I had NO IDEA it was going to affect me for so long. I didn't even know it was so bad!

I got through that dark time in February/March that I didn't realize at the time was SO BAD, but why doesn't it just go away? Sure, a death of a close family member, in my case, my dog, is a huge shock. Some may roll their eyes and stop listening once I say "my dog died". But it was SO HARD. Just thinking about it right now, I want to cry again. And on September 13 (yes, I know the exact day), it will have been SEVEN MONTHS.

Sure, my job was also stressful at the time, but I *thought* I was using it to get through my depression from losing my dog.

It sounds so stupid and it feels like no one in the whole world could possibly understand how I feel. How could they? Cody was a dog. People don't feel this way over pets. They just don't understand me. But...he was MY dog.

He was OUR dog.

He slept on my side of the bed and pushed himself over so far that both Mark and I ended up sleeping on Mark's side of the bed. He had his own little personality, and WE adapted to HIM.

We still sleep that way now, even though Cody is gone. We just got used to it.

Maybe that's the problem. WE adapted to CODY, not the other way around. So now there's this big gaping hole where Cody should be, and I have no idea what to do with it.

Except, I don't normally feel it. I'm usually feel just fine - I'm basically in a good mood most of the time. People I work with would say I'm very focused and good natured.

Why can't I just move on? Will it ALWAYS be like this? I remember Mark told me, back when Cody died, that I would NEVER get over him. He'd always have a little piece of my heart. I didn't believe it. I didn't think I would actually still sob once in awhile when something reminded me so strongly of him - 7 months later!

Yet, back then, I never could have imagined my life without Cody. It's like...this life shouldn't be happening without him. It's not fair that he's not here.

I did EVERYTHING I could! What did I do wrong? How could he have just died? If I would have known sooner, if if if if if...There must have been something I could have done...

I regret so many things. I should have walked him more. I should have taken him on more car rides, even though he got car sick - but I could have found something to make his tummy feel better. I should have kept the floor vacuumed up more so it was always clean for him.

I don't know. Now tears are rolling down my cheeks and any minute Mark is going to turn to me and say "Oh my God, what is it NOW?" and I can't say "I miss Cody....". You can only say that so many times....

I wish I would have known he was going to die. I SHOULD have known. I SHOULD have done something to protect Cody, only I didn't. I failed him. I let him down.

I killed him, I think. I wasn't a good enough parent. A good parent wouldn't have let it happen. I just don't know what I could have done? I don't care what the vets say - THEY were wrong. I should have been more aggressive and not listened to them.

I blame myself for Cody's death. He should still be here.

I guess I should wipe the tears off my cheeks now and go back to regular programming.

I'll feel just fine again in about 10 minutes....until I hear one of those damn songs again.

For me, music is like periods in time. I listen to popular music (maybe I should say popular adult contemporary?) all the time, so whatever is popular at that time is what I'm listening to. One song back in time is very dangerous to me.

We're going to the American Idol's concert tomorrow night, and on the way home when I was listening to the song, I thought "Oh God no, they played that song on EVERY EPISODE. Surely they won't play it at the concert..."

But I'm excited to go to the concert. THAT is one thing I do NOT miss. Guilt. Feeling guilty that I'm leaving Cody home by himself.

There, I feel better.



I wrote this EXACTLY one year ago today. Well, not by the day, but on Labor Day last year on September 5th, right after Katrina hit New Orleans. And it makes me sad:

"And if I were in the flooding of New Orleans, and Mark, Cody and I were on our roof waiting to be rescued and they wouldn't let me take Cody, I don't think I could leave without him. How can I just leave my dog? I don't think I could."

If I would have known Cody was going to die just 5 months later, would I have still felt the same way? Probably. Why? Cody would have never left ME.

My mind is replaying the people and the animals who just waited and waited for rescue, for days...and of course, the people who had to make the choice to leave their beloved pets. I don't know WHY I feel so much compassion for animals. Why do I feel so much more compassion for animals than I do human beings most of the time?

I spent most of yesterday (Sunday) in bed. I had a really bad cramp (no, not THOSE cramps), and I think it was from what I ate. The night before, I couldn't sleep, so I had already eaten a Protein bar and a Lean Cuisine. I went to bed, and was just angry in general. I wasn't mad at anything in particular, I was just angry, I don't know why, except it was probably hormonal.

I got up, ate the rest of my lasagna from Friday night date night (which has been officially canceled and went back to bed and went to sleep.

The next morning, instead of eating my traditional Egg McMuffin, I had hotcakes. Then my stomach started to REALLY hurt. Mark went to Wendy's, and I TOTALLY wasn't hungry, but had 2 chicken nuggets, about 15 french fries, and tried their new Vanilla Frosty - about 1/5 of a small one. By the way - it's really good.

That did it. I was in MAJOR pain. I took 2 Tums, didn't work, so I took 2 more Tums, still didn't work. I laid in bed, but it was unbearable no matter which way I laid.

I finally decided to just take something and sleep the pain away. I know I shouldn't abuse my medication like that, but it was so tempting. I was worried that Seroquel or Geoden might make me hungry again, but I took that chance.

I took a Geoden, 100 mg of Seroquel, and 2 Klonipin. Enough to knock me out. But it didn't. I was then relaxed with stomach pain. It was SO BAD that the Seroquel and Geoden didn't even make me hungry in the least. That's a FIRST. Eating was the last thing on my mind. Even drinking water would make my stomach hurt worse.

I finally fell asleep, and woke up at 10:00p. Just in time to take my nighttime medications and go back to bed. I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep again, but I did. Blissfully.

I skipped the diet pill today, ate a whole bowl thing from Kentucky Fried Chicken (we woke up around 10:30 for some strange reason), and I'm fine today. I don't even have a stomach ache from what I ate from KFC.

Maybe it was HOW MUCH I ate, and not WHAT I ate. I think that's what did it. My stomach has shrunk to a size that can only handle so much food, and what I USED to be able to eat, I just can't anymore. A normal amount of food, to me, is now too much.

I need to be more careful and remember this.

And next month, I need to take Midol every 6 hours, regardless of how I feel. I could NOT control my hormones this month. I'm fine now. I was angry almost this whole time. I think it's about over, give a day or so.

I think I'll weigh myself on Wednesday.

And the American Idol concert is Thursday! And Mark bought me center row seats - in the "G" row! (7th row, center seats!). He really tried to put all of my "likes" together in one package - concert, what I liked, best seats, and him coming with me.

Now I just have to tell my boss, who hates anyone missing work for anything, that I need to leave early Thursday for the concert....

Can't Sleep Again

I can't sleep again, but I just ate something, so I'm about to try.

Mostly, it's because I'm MORTIFIED by my actions these past few days. I'm chalking it up to hormones, but I've been incredibly moody, mostly bitchy. I can't rewind time and take it all back. What I've said, I've said. What I've done, I've done. I have no excuses - this is all me. True, I can use hormones as my scapegoat, but every woman has the same thing, and they don't turn into a raving lunatic bitch like I've been.

We went to bed, I was just lying in bed awake, Mark was trying to sleep, and I kept rolling over, actually WANTING to fight with him, for absolutely no reason. I had no reason to be angry with him, I just felt angry inside and wanted to get it out. I have cramps like you wouldn't believe, so I finally decided to get up and take some Advil.

I snap at people for no reason - just to bark at them, and that's so not me. It feels good to get it out, though, I have to admit.

When will it end? What a sucky Labor Day weekend.

So take me as I am
This may mean you'll have to be a stronger man.
Rest assured that when I start to make you nervous
And I'm going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won't mean a thing


I think I'm in a "mood". Maybe? If so, it's called "hormones".

I started reading a post, and it started out like this:

I just received a personally autographed book in the mail called “The Bipolar Advantage” by Tom Wootton. I haven’t read it yet, but the opening two sentences kind of intrigued me:
“This is bullshit. There is nothing good about being bipolar.”
Tom, a corporate trainer and bipolar patient, had the bright idea of putting together a seminar for fellow patients. In the seminar, he urged participants to volunteer both the bad and good about their illness. The “bullshit” comment, he admits, stopped him in his tracks.
Two and a half years ago I posted on my web site this question: “We know that bipolar disorder is a horrific illness. But do you also regard it as a gift that you would not trade to be normal?”

Okay, first of all, "I just received a PERSONALLY AUTOGRAPHED book in the mail", I haven't read it, but....two and a half years ago I posted on my web site this question:

Well, the question he refers to is what the book is all about. Is being bipolar really an advantage? So basically, this guy is saying:

#1 He's such a special bipolar, and wants me to know that, right away, that he gets personally autographed books in the mail from published bipolars

not only that...

#2 This was HIS idea, TWO (and a HALF - did he go back and look in his blog to check???) years ago to begin with! He actually quotes what some of his readers said to his idea (two and a half years ago, of course) How long did it take him to find that damned post, anyway?

Who the hell does this guy think he is? You know, that whole website really pisses me off.

The book, the Bipolar Advantage, is really good. I haven't finished reading the WHOLE thing (I think some people have), but it's true, there are advantages that I never thought of before reading it.

I HAD to bounce this off Mark to make sure I wasn't going insane tonight. He said yes, it was very pretentious. (But then again, I'm wondering if he's just saying whatever he needs to say to stay out of my way today/tonight)

I would say go read it yourself, AND my comment, but I don't want to advertise the Bozo's website.

I think I'm losing my mind today. Where's that Midol again?
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