If you are bipolar; then you may agree with me that having a mixed episode is probably the worst part of being bipolar. I mean, let’s pick one…am I right?
Mixed features refers to the presence of high and low symptoms occurring at the same time, or as part of a single episode, in people experiencing an episode of mania or depression.
Right now I am feeling the brokenness, emptiness and apathy of depression, but I have the energy and strong desire to clean every fucking thing in my house, take a calculus course (again) and set up the external hard drive on the TV that contains almost every Doctor Who episode in it’s 50 year existence and also watch Star Wars: The Force Awakens, again.
But, instead of doing any of those things. I am going to post all of the things that are fucking with me on here. Just to get them out of my head.
Grab a snack and a soda. This may take awhile.
(And yes, I did have a couple of bags of Peanut M&Ms)
I am just getting tired and fed up I guess. I am tired of jumping through these hoops for the Social Security Administration. I am tired of having to explain myself to their doctors and shrinks that I am sick so that they can explain it to some fucking bureaucrat that I am sick so that they can make a fucking decision. Did they not contact all of my previous doctors and shrinks? Also, I am not even sure that the lawyer that I have is doing anything or if they really can do anything unless a hearing comes up. Which is what I am dreading. Because now I have told their doctor that I am sick, I am about to go tell their shrink that I am sick and possibly I may have to tell a judge? Fuck that.
Maybe I can just load up on clonazepam and be a part time Wal-Mart greeter.
Oh and that brings me to another thing that has probably brought me to my current state of mind.
So, I went to my new-ish psychiatrist, well a new PA of his that “takes” my insurance. When I get there, the lady runs my insurance and apparently my variety of BCBS isn’t accepted there so I have to pay “out of network” which is $75 a visit. When you are broke, that’s a good chunk of change. So, I pony up and new PA changes my meds all to hell. So, I have to go back in a month and we will see if this regimen is working.
So, you may see posts for “The Great Texas Shrink Hunt” again.
Then there’s Mom.
I went to go see my mother tonight and having a conversation with her is rough. My mother has issues with her memory. My mother is also a person that gets attached to objects and money. Now, I am not saying she is some old rich woman that is all about shiny things, but she has her “collections” that she is proud of and she is having some issues that she can’t fit 33 years worth of crap that she has bought into half of 16′ x 14′ room that she shares with her roommate in a nursing home. So, she constantly forgets that a lot of her stuff went to family and friends, minus the things that she picked out that she wanted; however she keeps wanting to add to her list of things that she wants months (almost a year now) after her things are gone. She also doesn’t understand what happened to her money with the Medicaid. Basically, she thinks my wife and I took it.
If you aren’t familiar with medicaid, first it’s a nightmare and I strongly urge you to find a lawyer to help you do it. Simply because it’s a lesson in legal money laundering. You have to move so much money and property around and spend money in so many certain ways that it will make you feel like you are in the mafia. We hired a lawyer and legal consultant to help us with her medicaid; however my mother doesn’t recall any of this and thinks that my wife and I just magically got her on medicaid and then took all of her money and shoved it up our asses and started farting $50 bills. All we got was months of hoop jumping, headaches, hospitals, and paperwork. OK, we did fix up her house “in case she was able to return”, but we also took over the house. So, maybe we did get something out of it.
The other thing, the more devastating thing, that happened with our visit was a realization that I had. My mother has lost 74 pounds in a only a few months, which she thinks is great; however I know it’s the cancer. At this rate, the odds of my mom being around another 5 years are about 15%. She actually looked me in the eye tonight and said she was dieing. That hit me hard and I am still processing it. I know my mother is sick, extremely sick, and she also has cancer. She’s diabetic, has already had parts of her fingers amputated, has only 20% use of her kidneys (which is why Chemo and Radiation are out as cancer treatments), has congestive heart failure, must be on a CPAP when she sleeps or her Co2 levels rise so high that it causes her brain damage and earns her a trip to the ICU, she gets blood clots easily, is prone to infections, has constant open sores on her extremities (due to the diabetes), has severe mobility issues and requires a mobility chair, she is morbidly obese, and she has cataracts. All of that and inoperable, untreatable, Stage IV bladder cancer, and that’s just her physical health. She also has issues with depression, and anxiety.
Like I said, extremely sick.
So, now I am faced with the reality that this cancer is killing my mother (if something else doesn’t get her first) and I will be joining the ranks of the “dead parents” club fairly soon.
This is where being an only child sucks balls. Sure, when I was a kid I had all the toys, I was always the greatest son, didn’t have to share a damn thing. Now, on the down side of the bell curve, being an only child is horrible. If it wasn’t for my wife, who is stressed beyond belief, I don’t know what the fuck I would do. I would be lost, or at least more lost than I am right now.
OK, I think that covers it. Right now I am either going to go clean something, watch Criminal Minds on Netflix, or possibly take my meds and go to sleep.
Thanks for reading.