Freaking out? Moi?

Got this in the mail today: You will not receive ODSP income support and other benefits now that your file is on hold. Let me repeat that: You. will. not. receive. ODSP. income. support. […] …

Please hop over to A Canvas of the Minds to learn more about my latest “adventure”: The trouble With High Functioning Anything

Never a dull moment.

My momma didn’t tell me

Having one of those Why The Fuck Did I Get Out Of Bed In The First Place? days.

I detest that blasted “fuck my life” expression as I am well aware that my life, when you think about it, is pretty good. I am not homeless. I am not starving. I am a citizen of – and live in- a safe and beautiful country. I know I am loved by family and friends.

That, by any account, is a blesses life in all the true sense of the word, religion notwithstanding.

But right now I am mighty tempted to scream fuck my life at the top of my lungs.

But most of all, and really, this is what it all comes down to, FUCK MENTAL ILLNESS.

You know what I mean?

Let’s Talk

For the third year in a row, I have been asked to join the Healthy Minds Canada Team for the Let’s Talk Day campaign Needless to say, I consider it an honour.

Last year’s Bell Let’s Talk Day raised $6,107,538 for mental health initiatives in Canada. Not a bad figure, if you ask me.

Today’s Bell Let’s Talk Day finds me in an almost non-stop 24 hours streak of nightmares and their aftermath of hypnopompic hallucinations and sleep paralysis.

I am writing this blog post with shaky hands and the room is not quite still yet. It is slowly expanding and contracting in a seemingly endless cycle.

When I was first diagnosed with a mental illness, I felt my world fall apart.

As a person, I was afraid I’d be the laughing stock of society at large and pitied by my community.

As a mother, I was afraid that should my children eventually display symptoms of mental illness, they would be unceremoniously discarded as learned behaviours displayed by their crazy mother.

As a woman, I was afraid of being labelled as simply screaming for attention. Which did happen, by the way. Of course it happened. Especially among the medical community, my professors, who were mostly men, of course.

As a physician, I was afraid of being ostracized by the medical community for being unprofessional and hysterical. In the original sense of the word, not in the sense of being ludicrously funny.

Charcot_experience_histeric-hipnotic

Professor Jean-Martin Charcot of Paris Salpêtrière demonstrates hypnosis on a “hysterical” patient

 

All those things happened in one way or the other, so I learned to keep it to myself and instead come up with societally valid excuses for my absences.  Continue reading

ADHD-addled Monday Musings

Well, I am crumbling under the weight of anxiety.

Between last week’s missing appointments and the sad, sad news about Swing Dynamite, I am completely bummed.

I am experiencing severe allergy episodes that are barely kept at bay with allergy medicine.

I had not had those since my teen and early 20s.

I am raking my brain trying to find the cause but so far I only have conjectures. I know I am highly allergic to grass – yes, grass, can you believe that? – but I am careful not to let it touch my skin when I’m out.

I haven’t changed any of the soap brands I use and I wear gloves whenever I do the dishes or clean.

So yeah, I have a few hypotheses but haven’t been able to prove – or disprove- any.

Maybe these episodes are caused by the anxiety itself.

After all, my face can attest of a seborrhoeic dermatitis flare-up

I’m trying hard not to lose control.

I’m reading a lot (yay, books). Just finished the Odd Thomas series among others. I enjoyed it very much but I have to say the last book was a disappointment. Too many loose ends left when that was intended as the end of the series which in my mind means it ought to wrap things up and give resolution. Oh well.

Just started the Meratis Trilogy. So far, so good.

I have kept up with the paper crafting and that is fun.  Here, let me show you the last couple of things I made: Continue reading

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

This is hard to write.

Very hard.

I am trying so hard to cope.

Most of the time I even can trick myself into thinking things will be ok.

Then I hear their voices.

And my heart sinks.

I am back to any given  day of my life between age 6 and 15 and I would hear my father’s voice.

I – we, only had peace when he wasn’t home.

Most importantly, my mother was only safe when he wasn’t home.

The minute I’d hear his voice, I knew I had to brace myself for the worst because the worst often did happen.

Loud voices.

Swearing.

Screaming.

Awful insults.

Noises of things breaking.

My father traveled often so we had days in a row, sometimes even weeks where we could pretend life was normal, when we could sleep.

But I could never sleep when he was home. How could I?

I knew I had to be on the ready because at any time of day or night it could happen. Yet another trip to the hospital.

I didn’t happen every day, of course. But we never knew when we were going to get Dr. Jekyll and when we were going to get Mr. Hyde.

It was not a matter of if. It was a matter of when.

Upon hearing my father’s voice, all bets were off.

And it’s happening all over again.

I can’t sleep yet again.

I know that at any time of day or night I’ll hear their voices, my heart will sink and I will go back in time.

Like just now….

3rd North 

It is sad day when you have to go to the hospital in order to feel safe.


Always the geek, I can’t help but notice geometric patterns. Or any pattern, for that matter. That’s the floor at the ER, by the way.

Yep, back in the mental unit.

Such an irony.

They bully stays out while the bullied is the one being committed

*3rd North is where the Mental Health Unit is located at the hospital in Windsor. Funny, in Ottawa, it was the 4th North. Yeah, I know it has nothing to do with anything but my brain is always noticing patterns.

Losing Time

Well, I was going to write a post.

I think I sat in front of the computer about 1.5 hrs ago.

I think.

I didn’t write anything and I don’t even remember what I was going to write about.

1.5 hrs have gone by.

I lost that time.

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The Bullying Game

Well, I guess I can say I’ve gone through all the Stages of Loss and Grief in the last five days.

There was isolation, there was bargaining, there was depression, there was anger (oh, there was anger!) and I reached acceptance about 20 minutes ago.

I planned on writing a post this morning on compassion, as I reached acceptance while having breakfast. But that’ll have to wait because I’m afraid there was a new development (is that a redundancy, new development? like added bonus?).

Anyway, the redundant new development sent me back into depression, another little bit of bargaining (if only I had waited a little longer to release the two spayed females), lots of crying, an anxiety episode and lots of anger.

I had therapy/counselling today at 11 am. I was running late and only made to the bus stop when my counselor and I agree it was better to reschedule so I could have a full hour.

Decided to walk to the pharmacy to pick up my medication instead. When I came home, I found this on my door

Continue reading

Losing Control of my Sanity

At least in this case, a good deed didn’t go unpunished.

The neighbours managed to turn me into a nerve wreck.

I can’t sleep. Every time I hear their patio door open my heart skips a beat. I am also very jumpy.

Anxiety levels are up to the roof.

They continue to make loud passive-aggressive remarks on their deck, I guess in hopes that I hear them. And I do. Unfortunately, this house seems to be made of paper.

The house was turned into a quadruplex, two units on the first floor and two more on the second. I can pretty much hear everything my next door neighbour within the same house. I can perfectly hear which tv show he’s watching. Or was, because he moved out.

When my neighbour down below does laundry, the whole house shakes and it sound like the washer is in my unit instead of hers. When the washer is in the centrifuging part of the cycle, my whole place shakes. I have often made jokes about this.

So it doesn’t come as a shock to me that I can hear very well everything that is said on the next door house deck or even what the neighbours say inside their house if their windows and mine are open.

I don’t know if they know this but I am certainly hearing all their threats, insults and the like.

And that is certainly drilling a whole in my sanity.

So wish they could be charged for causing me to become ill.