Friday, September 26, 2014

Let's talk about pets...

I've never had a pet. Growing up we had outside cats, but that was for the field mice, not as pets. They were essentially strays that we fed when it was cold.

Anyways, I'm not a pet person. I never really have been. However, I'm stuck in this weird position of wanting a pet. Probably a cat, but maybe a dog. A therapy dog specifically. I saw this video of a girl that has a therapy dog to help her know when she's about to pass out, which would be so freaking awesome. I want that.

So, if you didn't have a pet growing up, how did you decided to get a pet as an adult? Were you hesitant about it? What if you hated it? AH! I want a pet. I want the company. I just don't see myself having a connection like that and being able to care for an animal. How did you decide what kind of animal to get?

Someone help me make a decision.

Sunday, September 21, 2014


I colored my hair purple today. And half my scalp, a bit of my forehead, fingers, ears... You get the picture.

I used Splat Purple Desire and I really like it so far. We'll see how long it keeps its pretty color. Hopefully my forehead doesn't stay stained for too long.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Shitty psychiatrist vent.

I finally got put back on meds while I was in the hospital and holy shit it was like night and day. I could actually do things and think (mostly) clearly. It really is amazing how a few little pills can make so much difference.

So I was in the hospital, got my meds, and have been doing pretty well. But, of course, things can't go well forever. It was time to see my new psychiatrist. So, as always, I try really hard to prepare for my appt and know what I want to say and how I want to say it and what I need to do to get my points across as clearly as possible. I talked to my husband for hours the night before making sure I would have it all together.

Then comes the appointment. He asks a million questions in rapid fire succession and I know I ended up making up answers for at least a couple because I was just so confused. When I would try to ask for clarification he would just go to the next question. With no tact at all he starts talking about how he had gotten the records that showed I had several unsuccessful pregnancies. Then he moves right along to my sexual abuse history. You can fill in the blanks for here.

So after an extremely exhausting and long session of questions he tells me that there's nothing wrong with me. That since I cried when he brought up my history of rape (let's ignore the fact that he just said some shitty things about all my babies) that I must just have PTSD and I don't need meds.

Say what now?

Then, when I question it, he tells me that absolutely everything I'm experiencing is because of PTSD. Okay, great. I know I have/had PTSD, but that 100% absolutely does NOT explain everything. Not to mention thanks to the most amazing therapist ever I don't really deal with PTSD anymore. Is it still difficult? Yes, and it always will be. But it doesn't interfere with my ability to function and does not explain all/any my symptoms.

So he tells me I don't need to take my meds anymore because antipsychotics won't do anything for PTSD, I need high dose antidepressants, but since I don't show any signs of depression (this should be a red flag, no?) that I don't even need that. So I'm now very emotional and frustrated beyond what I can hide. I tell him I'm frustrated and he tells me he thinks I probably just have borderline personality disorder. He reads me a list of symptoms and I fit a whopping one of them. ONE! And even that was questionable because the only one that fit was suicidal behavior because of my recent hospital stay. Well, it must be that I just have borderline traits, then. Of course it must. *Insert massive eye roll.*

It also must be that you're more dense than a box of rocks. I was crying because I was sad about (as he said) "failing at TTC." I was sad talking about my history with rape because it also brings with it all the memories of my baby Jackson. So yes, I was crying, but it had very little, if anything, to do with PTSD because I had an abusive past.

I hate this doctor. He even told me that because I could eventually logically deduce that my dishwasher does not actually talk to me, that I must not actually have hallucinations because he has another patient that has to turn his fan off because it bothers him so much. So let's ignore that it freaked me the fuck out and I had to leave the apartment for a bit, the fact that I could eventually think about it logically enough to tell myself it's probably not real means that I don't really have hallucinations. Because there's no way two people could experience and cope with things differently. Nope.

I swear, if I was in better physical shape it would 100% be worth going to jail just so I could beat the shit out of him for making me feel even crazier.

So he took me off my meds, and I was off of them for a couple days. At first it wasn't too bad. I thought I might be able to do this. But then it started getting worse. Yesterday it go so bad my husband had to come home from work early and convince me to take the meds again and just sleep until they started working. It was a shitty day.

Today is a little better. I took the meds again and went for a long walk in the rain. It was nice, though now I really want a light rain jacket. Wet everything gets annoying.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Bra Shopping

Yesterday I finally went bra shopping and decided I was not going to leave until I found at least one that fit me because fuck not having bras that are the right size.

Well, it turned out to be even more difficult than I had anticipated. My boobs are a weird size (even for specialty stores) and my shoulders are too narrow for even the bra that was made for small people. Of the 23 bras that I tried on, only one was even an option. The rest all stabbed me in the arm pit or had straps that were meant for people with broad shoulders. 

So I guess at least it made choosing between option A or option A pretty easy. I got the bra that the shop apparently nicknamed "the hideous bra." So naturally, I'm feeling super sexy in it, of course. But whatever. I have a bra that fits again and it's amazing. I almost forgot what I was missing. I was even able to do the dishes without my back starting to spasm! It's glorious. 

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Insomnia = Ramblings

I can't sleep. I've taken two rounds of sleeping pills and tried everything I can think of to get to sleep but  I'm just way too fucking hyper right now. If my legs didn't already hurt so bad I'd try going for a walk or something. I'm desperate.

I see my case manager tomorrow. She's taking me to finally go get a bus pass so I can try and be more active. Hopefully I can figure out the buses. It will be nice being able to do things whenever I want and not have to wait for Blake to do them with me.

I saw my new GP today. I like her. She put me back on muscle relaxers in hopes it would help with the spasms I'm having and is sending me to a PT to see if there's anything (besides a boob reduction and/or losing 50 lbs) that can help the issues with my back. I've also go referrals for a rheumatologist, neurologist, and cardiologist. So I guess I should get on setting up those appointments.

I have to do another 48 hr Holter Monitor before seeing the cardiologist, so I need to set that up as well. But they always make me nervous. I never know if I should let myself pass out more so they can tell what's going on, but then risk hurting myself. Or if I should try and be careful, not hurt myself, and risk them thinking I'm fine and don't need help. I hate being watched. I'll probably just say fuck it and continue to not see a cardiologist until I'm back in the hospital because the whole thing just stresses me out.

I started watching Kill la Kill on Netflix and it seems pretty good so far. I'm only on episode 3, but I like it. Makes me wish I was still 100 lbs and had a sewing machine. So many awesome cosplay options!

But seriously, I need a new sewing machine and serger. I miss being able to make things whenever I feel like.