mercurial scribe

Warning: This is a serious post. It may/may not include discussing sex, batshit insanity, psychotic episodes, rants and pitch-black emotions that most people don’t want to talk about. So if you want happy and fun, ditch this post and go HERE.

I’ve been sans medications for about a week now due to the financial difficulties we are facing thanks to the torturous system of California’s Worker’s Compensation bureaucracy. Things are not progressing well.

Yesterday morning, despite the importance of seeing all the doctor’s my lawyer has set me up with, I just couldn’t get out of bed. The thought of leaving my bed was frightening. So I turned off the ringer on my cell phone, hid it under some pillows and went back to a fitful sleep.

All day I fought with psychosis. For hours, a “whoomp whoomp whoomp” sound would flood over my head every few minutes. The sound was like what I imagine listening to a heartbeat from inside the owner’s stomach - like the sound was part of what had swallowed you. I would thrash around in bed, trying to tell myself it wasn’t real, it would go away. The inconsolable sobbing would begin.

I would wake up feeling like I had just escaped a fist-fight.

Then the talking would begin.

It sounds like when you’re “thinking loudly”, but I can’t make it stop. It’s my voice but it’s ceaseless, telling me I’m not doing enough, I’m not fighting hard enough, I’m just a waste of space. So I sob, allow myself to sob as hard as I want, as loudly as I want, because at least it drowns out that voice.

Then exhaustion hits and fitful sleep. Toss, turn, repeat.

I took a probably unhealthy mix of random medications last night to make it stop. 100 mg of Seroquel (i only had 250 mg, each 100 mg pill cut in half), 2 mg of Lorazepam, 700 mg of Soma and 350 of Motrin. It knocked me out and I finally could sleep the sleep of the undisturbed dead.

My personal D.O. doesn’t have any of my medications in samples to help me out. The worker’s comp doctor’s won’t touch this “emotional disorder” (FUCK YOU, you uneducated poser! It’s a fucking brain disease, you know, like epilepsy ISN’T possession of devils, you fucking medieval dimwits!). I’d go to the ER or call 911, but 1) I don’t want to be in a psych ward, 2) we don’t have medical insurance and there’s no way we can pay for such a visit and 3) I don’t think I could be okay leaving Justin to pack everything we own and move it with no help from me. And only two weeks before his grad party… I just can’t do that to him.

So I’m stuck. My brain is on overload… it’s taken me nearly 2 hours just to type this post. The sobbing is now involuntary and I’m just trying to stay on this side of bat shit insane.

In the meanwhile, I listen to the “dramatic” re-arrest of Paris Hilton, who after being sent home early for home arrest is being sent back to prison for 43 days. Her mother “collapsed in her father’s arms… it was all very heartbreaking and surely traumatic for Paris” (quoted by some local news reporter.) Fuck you, you dumb bitch Paris Hilton. You broke the law - should’ve thought about “traumatic” before you drank and drove and could’ve killed someone.

In the meanwhile, people around this country are struggling to just stay afloat mentally and financially and you’re boo-hooing over 43 days in some posh prison cell for breaking the law. Dumb shit blonde stereotype.