Commercial Break

This weekend got busy…which is when I was planning on blogging and catching up. I have a lot on my mind and I apologize in advance for subjecting you all to it. However, I’m still freaking busy, which means I’m obligated to entertain you with a quick still from the 90’s cartoon “Rugrats” which completely sums up my life at this very moment. Enjoy!



Stuck in my head

Once the lights go out I have a thing about monsters under the bed. Someone should lay me down on a couch one day and figure that one out for me.

Good news for those of you who’ve stuck with me the past few weeks. I just got approved for medicare! Time to figure out how to deactivate the GoFundMe. For those of you that reblogged my post out of the kindness of your hearts you are deeply appreciated and are absolutely wonderful people. Just in case you didn’t know!

I can’t wait to get back on Seroquel and Ritalin. My quality of life is going to improve so much once I do.

Looks like my dogsitting days are over. My cop client moved in with her boyfriend and Taz seems to have a new sitter. Those were my last two clients. It’s been a lot harder to pay the bills since that halted. The job search is all the more vital now, and after 34 job applications I feel like I’m running out of places I’d LIKE to work. Can’t we trade goods and services and forgive all credit card debt? I’d totally start breeding goats and knitting sweaters to get by.

I’ve been avoiding him for a year, but my good ol pal ANXIETY has got to be taken care of. There should be hit men for that. I’ve been overweight the past two years and had a gym membership the past year I haven’t touched. Anxiety is why. I honestly think after I get myself in the door that first time I’ll be just fine.

Aside from that…I’ve started an instagram “lelindelle” if you’d like to look me up (shoot me a comment so I know to add you back). I put up the past several years of my amateur photography that I’m really proud of, some snaps from the adventure so far, and hopefully a lot more NEW photography since I’ve got the bug again. Of course, I need to kick the anxiety to actually go places to take those pictures.

Damn you anxiety. You’re truly my arch enemy.

We are the X-Men

After the fiasco at the pharmacy I broke down at home. I was angry, I was depressed, and feeling hopeless. My health insurance dropped me because I couldn’t pay the premium, apparently there wasn’t enough money in the account it was supposed to debit from, and when I went to pick up my prescriptions the insurance had been removed from the system. I had no idea, never got a letter. So instead of a 200 dollar bill for 3 prescriptions, it was 700 out of pocket. I went home with my heart pumping wildly. The pharmacist gave me 2 nights worth of Luvox to hold me over until I figure something out. I’ve already missed two doses trying to figure out how I was going to be able to pay for it period.

My dad who was equally as frustrated at the situation as I was asked me why I was crying. I told him (not for the first time in my life) that everyone’s life would be a lot easier without me in it but I didn’t want to die, and I was just really sorry I’m nothing but problems. He indicated that this was bullshit (by saying, “that’s bullshit.”) and told me not to talk like that. We’d work through the problems, and they’d get better. No one in the house is currently employed, and it’s been hard financially particularly because of my monthly medical expenses. Even with the insurance I’d have to pop over a hundred dollars for a twenty minute visit with any doctor, which has had me begging in voice mails for prescription refills because I just can’t afford to come in, and thankfully my psychiatrist has been good to me. But now, without insurance, the prescription prices have skyrocketed. I can live without Seroquel, even though my quality of life is so much better ON it, but even after two days without my Luvox dose my mind and body were beginning to deteriorate. For starters, when I’m in Luvox withdrawal I can not breathe. It literally screws with my respiratory system particularly in periods of rest like when I’m trying to sleep. I’ll be up night after night gasping for air and crying. Without Lamictal I have zero stabilization. They are the two drugs I need in order to survive, and I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic.

I made a “GoFundMe” in hopes to get a little financial relief in the meantime: If you know any mental health advocates who would be willing to share some of their hard earned cash with me so I can make sure I can get my medicine please share the link. There’s a large part of me that feels like it’s a cop out to ask for donations, but I’m scared right now. I’m riding 7k in debt from the Adult Day Hospital AFTER the hospital charity program. I’ve been applying for every kind of aid I can find, but it’s been a slow ride, and this is a race.

After dad calmed me down a little and I stopped crying, he came back into the room to tell me,

“Another thing to remember is, some people have no hair.” Dad’s semi-bald, and I just gave him a confused look.

“Some people have no hair, I don’t have any hair, grandpa had no hair and my grandpa had no hair. But somewhere down the evolutionary order, and I don’t know how, having no hair was an advantage. Just like that guy from the X-Men who could laser beam anything from his eyes, but learned how to manage it. I don’t know why you have your problems, but you’re smart and artistic and I know that if you can learn to manage them, you’ll have an advantage in some way too.”

So I offer seats at my table for my brethren X-Men who want to find our advantage in the world despite the trials bipolar and all other mental illnesses can and will put us through. If nothing else can come from sitting at the table with me, support is always available, as I know more than anyone that a support system, even from WordPress community strangers can make a change.

Day hospital has ended

Rob, Marlene and I all took our bows and graduated last Friday. I was given a tiny tigers eye by my case manager which, thanks to insurance I can’t afford to see as an outside therapist. It’s really got me down. 50 hours of therapy a week reduced to none. I don’t know what to do with myself. Number one struggle for all the alum is finding structure without group. I went from a 12k deductible before group to 6k as of graduation.

Currently I’m trying to enjoy myself. I’ve been watching vh1 and horror movies at my new dog sitting clients house. He is a lovely man as are his two dogs. He’s nearly 7 foot and has a couch large enough for someone of his stature. This couch? Amazing. The comfiest of any house I’ve worked in. The apartment is quaint but the living room area has been completely relaxing.

Unfortunately, aside from the upcoming job I’ve committed myself to next week, I’m not sure the inconvenience is worth doing the job. There was zero parking within a mile of the apartment complex. I hate Chicago for things like that. It’s not the first neighborhood I’ve worked in that’s been that way. Especially on a weekend you need to park and not go anywhere. No plans for you! I am going to a bonfire Sunday night and finish this job Sunday afternoon.

I’ve never been in an apartment with punching bag. And yes, I went at it for a bit.

I was relatively social on spring break, the best day visiting David and our friend Jeff. Besides the good company we watched some amusing things including Lords of Salem (which was awful, shame on Rob Zombie) and of course played Magic: the Gathering.

Right now I need to focus on staying grounded. It’s getting closer to the time when Chris is coming home from Washington and I have no idea what to do. I do know I won’t drive him to and from work like I used to. I’m setting a boundary as much as I want to help him out because if I don’t there’ll be truth to.”we’re just the same people doing the same thing over and over.” I’ve put in a lot of work to change into who I am now, I can’t flush it all away.


Nothing I Care To Deal With Right Now

To go back to a subject I prior touched upon a few blog posts ago, I was dogsitting for a woman I’ve dogsat for for YEARS. I’ve always done an A+ job and I love that dog more than any other. He’s recently been diagnosed with cancer and while I was sitting for him I called the vet because he was having constipation followed by accidents in the kitchen. The vet assumed it was his diet change that his owner had started and told me to feed him rice and make sure he was acting like himself. Well. He had gone upstairs while I was sleeping and pooped in one of the upstairs bedrooms. I didn’t smell anything nor was I aware he’d even think about going upstairs because he’s 11 and a half and doesn’t like doing stairs much anymore. When the owner came home the day after she sent me a rough message about ‘how could I let this happen’ and ‘I don’t even know what to say to you’ after I had apologized profusely and melted down.

Now we come to today. I was planning on waiting a couple weeks and asking her how the dog was. Instead I get a message from her about five minutes ago telling me “Taz is fine now. I know you meant well, but when you neglect you own well-being every thing else declines. If you’d showered, you would have seen the mess.” followed by some other “and another thing” statements. I was insulted she wouldn’t even think to ask if I had stopped home to shower and change clothes. So apparently I’m a disgusting piece of shit who does a bad pet sitting. So right now I’m speaking very emotionally. I don’t care if she ever hires me again. I’m far too insulted and humiliated from all the bullshit she’s spat at me the past two weeks to ever even want to see her again. Likely I’ll change my mind, but right now I’m pissed. And now I have to talk in my last day of group therapy tomorrow about this situation because I’m internalizing the situation all over again but now that no dog sitting job I’ll ever do will be good and I should quit doing it entirely. That’s how I feel right now. And I’m supposed to sit for a new client this coming week so I’d better adjust my thought reframe.

On another note, It was bittersweet leaving Sunny’s house. I tutored his kids for the 2 hours and Sunny didn’t pop his head in the room like he normally does, he didn’t come home until 7:30 and I was there from 6-8:30 annnddd they actually PAID ME ON TIME which was great, the mom was there too and the whole family made me sit down and eat cold taco bell and they also had me try some korean veggie thing that was fried and she sent me home with ‘starter’ chopsticks and seaweed. Every one of them hugged me and said that I raised their grades and that if at any time I can come back even if it’s not regular to help tutor them they’d like that and they said maybe we can go out to eat for Justin’s birthday which is in April, Justin was asking his dad if it was okay and Sunny was like ‘any time any time’ so it was cute. Much better than I expected. only thing that killed me was my back in that crappy chair they have to sit on in their room.

Lastly, I’m babysitting for 6 hours today, getting paid $30 when I should be paid $10/hour but since they’re friends of mine I haven’t opened my mouth yet to challenge anything because I don’t want to challenge our RELATIONSHIP. I’ve been babysitting for three years…The last time we had a falling out about what I should be getting paid I didn’t see the kids for months and only when I apologized for making waves in the waters did we mend our relationship. I don’t want to go through that again but I spend about $10 in gas and $2 in tolls going there and back every week. Their argument could be that when Tony was out of a job I came by every week just to visit, and didn’t get paid anything, so why not just accept what they’re paying me? My therapist and group think it’s unfair and that I should approach them about the situation. Unfortunately, I’m not mentally capable of facing that conversation tonight. It’s been a long day, and now I got the comment from Suzanne which has put me in a horrible mood.

Thanks for reading. I wanted to hold off to blog until tomorrow, my last day of day hospital, but this just got me up in arms.

Day Hospital Part 3

In goals group we fill out our purple medication sheets to make sure we’re all taking our meds properly and haven’t fallen since the last time we filled out the form, and on MONDAYS we fill out a yellow sheet on which we record our progress as well as what we’d like to work on, our satisfaction and dissatisfaction with the program, read them, and get feedback from the rest of the group. We read the yellow sheets in the Psych Ed time slot (the third group of the day) which makes Monday’s the best day of the week for that time slot because every other day Psych Ed is pretty boring. This weeks theme is assertiveness and boundaries, which I can use some sharpening of my skills on however.

This is officially my last week of the program (Day Hospital) and I’m both relieved and saddened. I take night classes so I DON’T have to wake up at 7:30am on the regular, but doing so has also led to some positive structure in my days. During my down time I’ve had a habit of sleeping every moment available which could be hours at a time, sometimes oversleeping and missing out on important events. Sleeping is the easiest escape any anxious or depressed person can depend on unless you’re going through a bout of insomnia like some of my group members were talking about earlier today. The only time I ever really have a problem making it to bed is when I’m manic, and that’s under control for now.

Marlene can’t sleep though. Marlene is stuck. She’s 61 and had her first manic episode a little over a month ago. She was admitted to Day Hospital the same day I was. She was really quiet the first couple weeks but then started to participate in small group psychotherapy and does a LOT of crying, more than I’d like to see anyone do. She just feels hopeless, she’s not coping with the fact she’s got bipolar disorder particularly so late in life and she has to take pills everyday and she feels so overwhelmed by everything she feels she has to do as well as compares herself to everyone else from people on the street to television stars. She’s been stuck in her rut the entire five weeks I’ve been in the program and no matter how much support we seem to give her and all the ideas we try to blossom for her she seems to think she’s too weak to implement any of it, and therefore…she doesn’t. And it’s hard to see, because we all just want to see each other get better.

Robin (from group) finally got her hearing aid over the weekend so she’s been living up being able to hear everyone. She’s got a mass in her skull that’s pressing on her brain and has one of her ears 100% deaf and the other, which has the aid, was 60% deaf, but is now getting some amplification.

After my meltdown last week in group after the bad news I got from Suzanne about Taz’s accidents in the upstairs bedroom I thought nothing could possibly get worse, then I got to school on Saturday and checked my e-mail.

To preface the story, I had missed the prior Saturday’s class because my medication was making me physically ill, so I got a doctor’s note, a note from one of the staff in the program, told my professor in an e-mail that day that I would get said notes and provide them on the coming Saturday of class and sent her the powerpoint presentation I was supposed to have presented that day. I checked my e-mail every day over the course of the week expecting to hear back from her and on this past Saturday, as I sat down in class and turned on the computer to check my e-mail I saw she had responded an hour earlier. No one else was in the room yet, so I left right after reading it.

It read that she would not accept my presentation NOR my doctors note, and thus giving me a 0 for the assignment the highest grade I would be able to receive in her class was a D meaning that I’ve failed out of the class. (And basically, no graduation in the Spring for me) She said that both heads of the department both got a copy of the e-mail she was sending as well as agreed with her on her decision. She told me to withdraw. I was shocked, in denial, I don’t know what I was feeling but my heart was surely racing and I didn’t know what else to do, so I went back to Lisa’s house (where I was babysitting the night before and slept over because it was closer to school than my house) and told them the situation. Both Lisa and Tony (her husband) were livid and thought it was an extreme abuse of power and that it was an unwarranted judgement and told me I should and CAN fight it, so I will. I’ll take it to the dean since the head of the department seems to think that this professor made a brilliant decision…

At least I had somewhere supportive to go when that happened, and the kids were glowing when I came back. I had spent Thursday babysitting them, then came back Friday, stayed overnight and around 2am the five year old came downstairs and wanted to sleep on the couch with me, so we cuddled and it was adorable. Those kids love me and let me know it too. I’ve been helping raise them since they were tiny things and I feel like they’re my babies too. I know they’ll take care of me when I’m old, as long as our bond continues to grow which I’m sure it will. That entire family sees me as family too and vice versa.

Everyone in small group was very supportive of my decision to fight the judgement I received and both my friends Marissa and Lucy pointed out over the course of the weekend how far I’ve come and how proud they were that I handled this situation in such a calm way, because a month ago I would have broken down and not known what to do with myself, but now here I am facing big girl issues and kicking their ass. Group really has helped with a lot.

Today is my last day tutoring which will be a HUGE burden off my shoulders. I quit for my own health and for the fact that I was making pennies on the hour of what I should have been making, and it’s not worth my time to do it anymore. So here I am making progress in my life. Baby steps.

Rank my mood today 1-100: 60

Feeling Physically?: Tired.

And emotionally?: Hopeful, grateful, scared, frustrated, angry, impatient, sad and anxious.

Just your average day.