Imperfect Me-Poem

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on May 14, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Your perfectionism chokes me
provokes me
you can only be who you are
why not afford me the same
I am imperfect and flawed
messily beautiful
chaotic my forte as is perfection
is yours
The more you push me to be
more like you
the more I don’t want to be
anything like you, I only
want you to let me be
and let me be me
The messiness you shun is
the tempest within me that
keeps the fire in me alive
who you are is smothering
the flame of who I am
Yet what do I do to quash
who you truly are
You want perfection
you’ve knocked on the wrong door
and for these reasons it’s likely
my chaos and I will
vanish into our messy ether
your kingdom of order and control
and perfectionism
all yours to savor
while I go my own way and
shake off the joylessness
I felt being under your thumb of
control and perfection
I want to be free
I want to be chaotic and messy and
I just want to be imperfect me.

Just Bleeping Write!

Posted in anxiety, blogging 101, depression with tags , , , , , , on July 6, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Yeah, that is what I had to bully myself with when faced with the blinking cursor. JUST FUCKING WRITE.

That’s kind of the #1 blogging tip you can give. Just write. Not every post will be deep prose or get a hundred likes. (Hell, I think the most likes any of my posts ever got was 37 and that was over like 4 years but I shoot myself in the foot by refusing to use social media to promote the blog.)

So, I am just gonna write and if it makes sense, cool. If it’s discombobulated and chaotic, welcome to my mind, how would you like to live there?

After days of being tapped out from every tiny functional action, especially anything having to do with other people, I finally did dishes yesterday, fried my kid some chicken legs, and let off some sparklers and poppers. Yeah, a day late but sometimes it goes that way. Today, when the heat has me feeling embalmed, I managed to go outside (while she is at my dad’s) and hook up the slip and slide for her. I just can’t seem to accomplih anything with her here, so in a way, I PRAY they have school in person this year and in another way it’s like, I can’t even pay my internet this month, how the hell will she remote learn????

I can’t pay the internet, I couldn’t cover the entire power bill which since I was on a deferred plan means I will get a disconnect notice for the full n$400 soon. I don’t know what I am gonna do. Even my old friends I could turn to in a pinch have been hit like a sledgehammer by covid. What fucked me was still needing the furnace on in May. Usually we turn it off in March and I get caught up on the winter heat bill that way. Not this year. Not when the kid needs clothes, shoes, the car needs this part and this fluid changed and I’m down to tattered clothes that need replaced…It’s neverending. I wish I could just get a scratch off lottery ticket for $1000, that’s all it would take to get caught up and have a tiny cushion.

But I can’t waste money on lottery tickets so that’s some magical thinking.

I wish I hadn’t screwed up my credit during my years of manic shopping before mood stabilizers, then I might qualify for a short term loan.

Wish, wish, wish.

The other day I was watching a show where this elderly woman who’d only met this person twice left them like $20,000 simply because they were kind to her. Can I be kind to someone who’d be a living benefactor? Because honestly, rationing my kid’s baths because I can barely afford the water bill here (it’s $65 before you use a drop of water), I am starting to feel like a nag monster. No, we don’t have the money for this, or for that…No you can’t take a sixth bath this week, it costs too much…Good thing my depressed ass only bathes once or twice a week or I’d really be stressing. Which I am with the slip n slide using water but dear god, we’re on day 7 with four to go of 90 plus heat, the kid’s been penned up all summer, she’s entitled to a little fun.

I honestly thought R would come through for me with some help, considering how much money he and his wife have coming in, but he claims to be tapped out, too. Which I was only asking for a short term $245 to keep power and internet on, but hey, shit happens. My luck tho will be the only assistance program to avoid power shut off will be out of funds due to covid and others worse off. Though not having power seems pretty bad off to me. Least we aren;t going hungry. But if I can’t keep the power on then they charge the whole amount plus a deposit and reconnect fee, we nay as well just go live in the car, you need power for pretty much everything, not to mention the gas for the cooking and water heater. Think what irks me most about R is that I have always repaid him, yet he has other friends who never paid rent for living on his property, who bummed money to get out of jail, and none of them repaid him but he still helps them out. Hardly seems kind or fair to me.

But all I need do is turn on the tv and get reminded, it ain’t just me, the world is unkind and unfair to lots of people, especially in covid days.

I don’t have any answers.


Just fucking write.

It helps, I feel like ten pounds have been lifted off my mind. The anxiety is rioting but in my situation, I think that’s normal.

So yeah, blog tips, blogging 101- jut fucking write.

Psychologically Hobbled

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , on July 4, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

I’m a bitcher, I come from a long line of people who like to complain. I think it’s our way of venting our frustrations as opposed to any concerted effort to be whiners. What I have to look out for that the rest of my family does not is how hobbling depression can be to you psychologically. I’ve lost interest in pretty much everything, day after day I accomplish nothing. It’s a vicious cycle, the depression devouring me, causing more anxiety, which causes more depression, and I can’t seem to shake it off and spring back (everybody keeps saying the lows don’t last, you’ll be back, well, duh, but ya know six to nine months in a depression isn’t really short term so it feels like forever).

Just now I was sitting here, gut churning with anxiety, because my dad and his gf wanted to spend the day together and asked me, or verbally bludgeoned me, until I agreed to get their man child to his job so they could piss off wherever. I hadn’t wanted to go to town but Spook did, and she wants sparklers so…I caved. Now the anxiety of waiting and knowing I can’t fuck off because I have to watch the clock and get him there on time…even though it’s not til 2 in the afternoon…and my gut churns more and I feel so hideous and unfit to leave the house. But the house is such a neglected mess, being here isn’t much good for my depression, either. I was fully prepared to not face the blinking cursor and blank page lest I not be able to find words…

Then it hit me. The depression and anxiety aren’t just hobbling me from what I enjoy, it’s robbing me of what I NEED to do to stay sane. And that is write. It has proven more therapeutic than anything else and I guess being blocked even from ranting about myself (yes, ranting, NOT whining, please understand that) made me afraid to face the blinking cursor, let alone turn on the computer. It took some firm resolve to hop on here and write this but now that I have…

It’s a bit like a shower for the mind. I feel less…scummy. Cleaner. I haven’t literally bathed since Tuesday, but two baths in one week was exhausting so…mental cleanness will suffice. Just gotta scour all the negative stuff out.

It remains in reality but at least it’s been spewed on this page and isn’t devouring me entirely. Small victories.

The Depression Is Winning

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , on July 3, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Haven’t posted in a while. Judging by my email and comments, no one has really cared.

Scratch that, that is the depression talking, making everything seem against me and bleak and hopeless.

I am still here, at the bottom of my blackened rabbit hole, drowning in the depressive abyss.

Bout the only thing I have under control right now is the momming thing. Everything else, I’ve shut down on. Just literally, two and a half days of laying in bed, not opening the computer, not bothering with the phone…just…shut down.

I am screaming at myself to grab the ole boot straps and pull myself up but ya know what5? That’s not how depression works.

Maybe you all could give me some encouragement so I’d at least regain interest in blogging? Or is that being too needy? I just need to know SOMEONE cares enough to read therefore I should care enough to post.

Last week has not indivcated this is the case and fair enough, everyone has a life and bloggers come and go.

But I am very vulnerable right now so ya know, if you could toss a little good tidings this directon, I wouldn’t swat them away.

The Daywalker Diaries-Beautifully Wrong and Random Edition

Posted in anxiety, blogging 101 with tags , , , , , , on June 23, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

12:13 p.m

I am naueous from taking my meds on an empty stomach. I am also having menopausal sweats, which had been contained to night time. Guess going out in 85 degree heat didn’t help.

My card was declined at the minimart. The manager let me take my stuff anyway since it was his machine that wouldn’t connect to whatever it needs to, but now I am panicking and wondering if my card was canceled or something.

Kinda like the other day when I went to put on my glasses and a lens came flying out. We looked and looked with flashlights and never did find the damn thing. I was freaking out since my new glasses are missing, too, and insurance only covers an eye exam every year, glasses every two years. It was like, fuck, I gotta have these to drive, what am I gonna do??? Thanks to my pack rat-ism, however, I found an old pair in the car’s glovebox and that took the panic attack down. They’re 6 years old and probably not helping a whole lot but at least I can see to drive and won’t get a ticket.

I need to feed myself but any time we have food the cats mob us and I can’t handle feeling more smothered and attacked right now. Even a celery stick results in a mob. Pass.

1:42 p.m.

I power napped eventually after riding out the nausea and headache. I had to turn the lamp off and lay in my darkened snuggery, and every time I started to nod off, the jack in the box called my kid was in here, babbling about something or other, but hey, I got 16 minutes. God knows I didn’t get much sleep last night, my body evidently needed it. I’m just glad the nausea passed, I don’t like feeling sickly. I gotta start eating with my meds, but usually, they don’t make me sick. Oh, well.


There’s an ad in my email for a plant based food delivery company called Purple Carrot.

My brain jumps to a line from the Prince song, “Let’s go crazy.”

“Let’s look for the purple banana until they put us in the truck.”

Purple banana? What were you smoking, Prince?

My brain can literally tie anything to a song or musical artist. If only it could connect math the same way.

Though I did learn this morning I’m not as dumb as I thought because I actually identified xenon on the elemental table. I have no idea how I knew that but I did know it. Maybe the meds haven’t completely left me with swiss cheese for a brain, after all.

Bad kittehs…weird kittehs…

Of all the food items I thought I could leave out, I was wrong about the package of instant potatoes. The cats ripped it open and made quite a mess. I wonder if when they drink their water, will the mashed potatoes form in their belly?

I said my brain was weird duh.


Too bloody cool, release it already. A final Linkin Park song with Chester is a treasure.

A porn actor charged with rape…

Headline worth a giggle…

Only Monsters Use a Mouse Without A Mouse Pad.

I’ve been a monster from time to time.

4:48 p.m.

I managed to clean the cat boxes, take out trash, refill ice cobe trays and wash and dry a load of laundry. WOOHOO. Now there are gonna be some people saying, big deal, I did all that before 6 a.m. and worked all day…But minus that peanut gallery, I’m good with what I accomplished. I wanted to do more, but…Least I did something.

It counts,

Others with more functionality have ended up hospitalized. That I am less functional and still fighting is a testament to how strong I am, no matter what weaknesses haunt me.

Snuggery, Interrupted

Posted in anxiety, blogging 101, depression with tags , , , , , , on June 23, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

So, yeah, I get this word of the day email and yesterday’s word was snuggery. A snug comfortable place, such as one’s bedroom or a small room. My dad long ago dubbed my home the crypt cos I am upset by bright light and keep it dark, but snuggery seems like a good term, too.

Only today my snuggery is being disturbed by yowling cats, a griping kid, and just a general feeling of upset. I am not amused.

Juggling depression and anxiety is hard enough without all these other stressors piling on. I start to feel like I am smothering under the weight of it all. Buried alive. Today my daughter wants to clean her room. I have the energy level of a slug due to yet another night of insomnia and wake and sleep cycle, so I am not feeling it. I put on clean clothes, isn’t that good enough? Of course, she is in pouting mode because I don’t feel like stripping down her bed to the frame and cleaning underneath. She created the bloody mess, let her live with it awhile longer til I feel better.

I don’t know when that might be but it isn’t today.

All this pile on is giving me panic attacks.

I tried to talk to her calmly and explain my disorder but she’s an only child and the ONLY thing that matters is what she wants when she wants it. She’s like my dad that way, she doesn’t care if I am barfing and doubled over in agony. If she wants something now, then there’s a tantrum coming if she does not get it.

My stomach is churning with stress.

Plus side, two posts in one day, woohoo, I’m back. The rant means everything to me because it means I am still alive and have enough fire left in me to be outraged and rant.

Blogging 101: Fickle Followers

Posted in anxiety, blogging, depression with tags , , , , , on June 23, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

I took a 3 day blog break and returned to posting. I am averaging 6 likes whereas when I posted regularly (and before I screwed myself by changing my blog url and losing people) 10-15. Now while there are blogs out there I find as interesting as watching paint dry who get 90 likes and I am just like, are you all reading the same thing as me??? What is wrong with me that I find this so utterly dry and boring but I click like because the blogger is a nice person who occasionally does post well…Not to mention, I am anti popularity, I prefer the obscure, so I am much less likely to click like or comment when someone has 90 likes and two dozen comments. I am a blog snob that way.

At least the 5 or 6 hardcore followers (whom I met through the blogger community) seem to be sticking with me. That counts for a lot. Because I think most of my followers are bots or just obligatory likes and that’s pretty meaningless.

Not that I am above an obligatory like when my mental state has gone to trash and I can’t focus well enough to enjoy the post…It’s usually not personal against the blogger or the post. Sometimes, I am just on overload and I skim and click like to say, hey, I tried, dude.

So how does one maintain a high number of followers who don’t abandon ship if your mental health or whatever deems you unable to write for a few days?

I have no bloody idea.

I am just getting used to the fact that blog readers are fickle and like the short news cycles, what I write on Monday may be redundant to them by Friday so they move on. I show more loyalty than that in those I follow, but that’s just me. And I have attention deficit so if I can manage it….people are just mindless and fickle sometimes. It’s them, not me.

So that is my twn cents worth on the topic. No change given.

The Daywalker Diaries: Aggro-Mixed Episode Edition

Posted in anxiety, bipolar depression, depression with tags , , , , , , , on June 22, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

11:39 a.m.

In a prior post, I mentioned how I’d been having mega side effects with a med change made by my psych. It created a mixed bipolar episode, which resulted in being irate, aggravated, and all around unable to cope with the tiniest stressors. I am back on all meds sans the side effect causer but it’s a rough road and I am forcing myself to write. I thought since posts have come to me with too much struggle as of late, maybe I can do a daywalker thingie and just throw in odds and ends throughout the day to illuminate my mental state. Here goes nothing…

11:52 a.m.

Sleep was its usual hellish battle to stay asleep. Not to mention multiple times when I reached the sleepy place, I was wakened by kid, cats, phone. Which meant more pills and another hour or two to nod off. I was up at 3 a.m. which I surmise is not optimal when your kid is up by 7 so you need to be functional. Yes, she is almost 11 and fairly self sufficient with a device in her hands, but it’s the principle. I sleep in one day a week, the rest of the time I try to be up with her or before her. Not an easy feat when you can’t get to sleep easily and your body won’t stay asleep.

I woke before 8 a.m. and thought maybe it wouldn’t be so awful today since I restarted my meds.
I was wrong.
We just have too many cats inside and they’re tearing the house apart climbing on things and not using the litter box consistently. They have a home on the farm but getting everyone’s shedule to coordinate has proven challening. I am screaming and cussing and just on edge because I can’t sit down or take a step or even eat so much as celery without them all swarming me.
I am hearbroken because two of the worst are our boys, not yet a year old, and they are so loving but until they are fixed, they are just hyper menaces and I checked into the so called freebie program but they won’t be making a trip til August. I can’t handle these boy cats that long, they’re jumping on electornics and knocking stuff down, leaving broken glass…I can’t do it. And it is breaking my heart because I love the boys so much. I don’t even qualify for a fucking payday loan so I might get them fixed sooner. So my mood is unlikly to improve once they are rehomed, tho my anxiety might decrease.

12:24 p.m.

My kid is off to hang out with a friend. I have decided to take half a melatonin and let my body decide if I need a catnap. If it takes, my body needs more rest. If it doesn’t, then I am awake for the day. It’s a poor test but it’s all I have and at the moment, I am so demotivated and aggro, I welcome sleep.

4:55 p.m.

My kid no sooner got to the kid’s house and called to let me know she was coming home, his parents weren’t there- even though he told me they were. He told her she had to leave even though he’d just called to tell her to come over. I swore I’d never pick my kid’s friends but this one is a pain in my ass.

I didn’t get much naptime, but I twilighted a little. That place before sleep where you’re fading out but not down for the count. That sufficed. I mean, I’d have loved more sleep, especially since my mental state has just been so aggro today but…it is what it is. I did point out to my kid that THIS is why mom takes medication. She is always asking why I need pills. Well, mom the depressed becomes mom the grouchy screamy your-voice-is-like-nails-on-a-chalkboard bitch beast without the meds. It’s called a mixed bipolar episode. I think I prefer the depressions. Least then I’m not unhinged and yelling.

5:51 p.m.

I washed my hair. I don’t remember the last time I bathed. Thankfully dollar store wet wash cloths and some Irish Spring cover a multitude of sins. I just had to have a clean scalp, it was driving me nuts.

Now I am cooking a frozen pizza for our supper and it’s taking all my energy. I want to go back to sleep. I woke this morning from the most wondermous erotic dream. No nudity, no sex.

It involved a man saying, “We should talk about our feelings.”


Yeah, I’m weird.

I’m so over this daywalker thing.


Posted in anxiety, bipolar disorder, depression with tags , , , , , , , on June 22, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Well, I took a ‘medication vacation’ for four days because the doctor putting me back on Wellbutrin on top of the other meds resulted in side effect city. I wanted a blank slate so I can discern if what I am on is doing anything positive. I can safely say at least my mood stabilizer works. I took one dose of it today and suddenly days of being in ‘fuck off, grrrrlllll’ mode…It was turned down from ten to maybe a 4. I was in a mixed episode of mania, complete with the short temper, the lack of focus, the lack of interest, the heightened anxiety, and just a general feeling between apathy and aggravated. But without that third antidepressant, the side effects that were plaguing me have all but vanished.

Flip side, all that stress has been internalized so I’ve been locked in a battle with the gut goblins for days and it’s left me feeling exhausted and just miserable.

But I am still here. The blog may languish a bit but it’s not going away. Nor am I.

I miss ranting.

I miss having the desire to rant.

For now….I’m riding out the mixed episode, going back on the meds, and hoping for the best because I haven’t had the nerve to call the psych center to find out what circus act of a doctor they’re gonna stick me with now. It rarely gets better, only worse, and the worst case scenarios are the benzo nazis and getting stuck with a psych nurse. So many people are just gaga for the psych nurse and I’ve had 2 and found them damn near impossible to tolerate. I hate doctors but at least they tend to have the experience to not take the fucking DSM as gospel and expect patients to be book examples. I will slay that particular dragon soon, I’m just not in a strong enough frame of mind at this moment.

And it goes without saying, don’t quit your meds without a doctor’s permission, et al. Since I technically have no doctor, I don’t feel I had a choice. I’ve done med vacations before under a doctor’s care so I knew what I was getting myself into and feel it was necessary. JUst don’t try this at home, kids.


Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , on June 17, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

This is not a sunny happy post. I am feeling pretty low about myself because try as I might, I can’t make myself ‘snap out’ of the depressive inertia and accomplish things. I had nightmares last night about someone screaming at me for being on disability, for not working, for being an utterly useless drain on society and when I woke up…I couldn’t help but have that nightmare lingering in my head.

I’m a cockroach. No matter what awful shit comes my way, I just stay alive, serving no purpose but to be a pest or nuissance.

Logically, I know this is rubbish.

Emotionally, with depression tainting every emotion and perception…it’s how I really feel. Like the world can’t get rid of me because I am a cockroach-esque plague that just won’t die.

I don’t want to write. I do want to write. I’ve got nothing to say. I have too much to say.

My mind is a puree of word salad, none of it shiny and happy and some of it, potentially offensive because daily I am berated via TV news about my white privilege and it’s starting to take a toll on my low self esteem. I didn’t know you could get lower, but surprise, being told you’re something you’re not based on a genetic component you had no choice in…

Just a cockroach and no pesticide will take me out and I can’t take myself out because I’d scar my child for life. Which is countered with, but hey, being such a slug, aren’t you scarring her already by being here?

I fucking hate distorted thoughts. I know them for what they are LIES, but it doesn’t make it any easier to fight past them. So I remain in this negative mind space in a holding pattern, waiting for it to pass and maybe some glimmer of hope to shine through wondering if it’s evidence of my madness turning to full fledged insanity.

My only reprieve is knowing this, too, shall pass. Maybe not for long, but that’s the beauty in rapid cycling bipolar. You’re never in any frame of mind for too long. Except for the depressions, but even those ebb and flow in severity. It’s surviving the severe ones that really test your strength as a human being.

Random Acts Of Kindness

Posted in life with tags , , , , , on June 16, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

It has occurred to me how little we really need to do to commit random acts of kindness for each other.

Saturday my kid was kind of pushing her “I want” monster bit so when we got home…she surprised me with a ham and cheese sandwhich minus crust cos she knew I’d said I took my meds on an empty stomach and felt sick.

For a near 11 year old to do something so kind…it’s very sweet. In turn, I gave her half the sandwich and told her that love means sharing.

Yesterday she cleaned her room big time so when she went to her grandpa’s, I managed to get off my depressive lethargic butt and hang the pink curtains her aunt gave her and I moved the desk into her room. Just to surprise her.

When she came home, she’d been somewhere with them and brought me home a Deadpool “pottymouth” pin for my jacket.

These are just small things but they make my heart swell with joy. And joy is in short supply when your entire world is dark.

You don’t need to spend a fortune or be a whirlwind. Something as simple as a comment on a blog post can totally improve someone else’s day.

So…go forth and commit random acts of kindness.

It’s a win win thing and it feels pretty good.