It’s a bad dream we’re not having anymore

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Therapy Man asked if I’d ever tried to make friends with the scary things in my head….

No! They are scary! Duh!

He wanted to throw me out of my session after about 15 minutes.
Fuck, I wanted to throw myself out of MYSELF a long-ass time ago, but that’s a no-go on that!

He has a point, really.
Make friends with the scary shit and it won’t be so scary.
Fuck, I can’t make friends with anyone else.
Why the hell not try to make friends with the bitches in my head?

I like it!

I want fun.

I want happiness… uhhh… that word is so ridicules really.

I mean… I have sorta lost track of what that really
might mean in the context of this world for me. .

Fun, though! Laughter! Smiling!

happy and you know it

So Doc says I’m experiencing “mixed episodes”. I think I may be one of very few patients who does not feel strongly about researching her diagnosis. Who doesn’t need to learn everything she can about it… BUT… let me explain. For the last 28 years I have been diagnosed with multiple flavors and many different personality disorders. It was easier for her to ask me what meds I haven’t taken then what I have. I have been in and out of homes and hospitals. In the beginning I was recovering from some traumatic experiences on top of trying to understand the underlying mental issues that co-existed. I wasn’t in a position to care about WTF was going on. I just wanted to be safe and feel better. At that time I carried a strong belief that I WOULD recover. So… “gimme, gimme, gimme meds and I’ll be aaaalll bedder soooonnn” was sorta how I trudged along.

Oh…. silly, silly Padawan.

This latest attempt at recuperation has started to change things… that and my last Doctari visit. I’d always associated mixed episodes with a Bipolar I diagnosis. I was under the impression that I had a BiP II diagnosis. That diagnosis was changed apparently while while visiting with the dancing monkeys as the result of a hefty dose of completely unnecessary Haldol… during my last psych spa visit… And, since my psych resort is not considered a 5 star resort it’s possible that the diagnosis was changed and the conversation never happened at all. The “Docs” there aren’t the same Docs we see outpatient and they lack communication skills at times! LOVE THE HEALTHCARE SYSTEM (different post that I will never have).

Anyway, I digress. So, my doc put me on a new medicine. Latuda! I was/am ambivalent. It kicked my ass from here to Egypt and back – which is a LONG distance from small town Indiana! But, it’s settling like most new meds do. We will see. I haven’t looked it up. I’m afraid to because if it says it might even possibly cause weight gain, Borderline Betty will say “Fuck that Noise” and I won’t take it. I’ll try my hardest, but she will win.

The mixed episodes I did investigate and serves me right… I am no clearer on the subject than when I started. Anyone willing to enter into a conversation with a dummy on the situation – I’d be happy to listen. Understand that I AM a typical blonde and it takes me a while to understand things… And, I ask a LOT of questions once I decide to try to understand something. All I told the doctor was that I feel good one minute. I’m crying on my couch the next…. then I’m snappin’ the next second and suddenly losin’ myself in a flashback or dissociating the very next… I wanna be with Danger Boy… I don’t. I hate him. I love him. He’s a jackass. He’s perfect.

bipolar love

Here’s the deal.
I know that I am sooo fortunate!
I have the right parts for a happy life.
I laugh.
I smile – yes, Sammy! I do!
But, damn it… Whew!
When I just can’t get past myself
My problem is that I perpetuate pain!
I know I’m headed for it and I can’t stop the damn train!

crazy train

That’s why Therapy Man wanted to boot me out yesterday. He won’t and I know that. But, Gees-o-petes, I am right there with him! I want out TOO! It’s such a cyclical disease. I don’t even have to research that shit! And my brain goes round and round right along with it. I sit in the fishbowl and I see the happiness shit all around me… I reach out for it and I can’t get to it. Or, if I can get to it… Oh I fuck it up. My brain gets in the way. No matter how many times I say NO MORE!

Yes… I fuck it up some MORE…

star ship

That’s why I think I should buy a Starship.
Think you can get to Wonderland on a Starship?

I know it’s in me…
Not the Starship…
The happiness and fun 🙂
There is just something holding me back.
I’ve rambled through this post. If anyone is even still out there I will be surprised.
I know I can do this. I have been saying for years.
Make friends with the scary shit?
Would the bad dreams go away then?

Have you been aching with trust or just
Have you been waking yourself with lust?
Have you been making us up or just
Taking us home?

8 thoughts on “It’s a bad dream we’re not having anymore

  1. Oh Jami, You have a book inside of you sweet lady. Your bouts with your mental illness doesn’t make me smile but the way your write about it does. Actually I smiled all the way through and laughed out loud at some parts. I love your characters, the way you name them, how you interact with them and with yourself. But I’m so sorry for the pain BUT I will continue to pray for peace of mind for you. You are a good writer Jami. xoxo

    1. I do love you Sammy, my friend. You are never far from my mind when I write… or during my day because you do make me think about what is possible for me. Thank you! I understand what you mean completely. It’s all good… 🙂 xoxo

      1. Um… they are terrifying so I might get locked up if I made them into stories for the public. I’ve been making them into stories in my head and that’s why they increased my medicine. Lol

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