10,000
Watched half of the last “Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien” before bed last night. Funny, funny shit. Conan is funnier than I’ve ever seen him. I can relate. I often find that I’m near the top of my game when I’m in crisis mode. Not lately, mind you, but other times.
His ratings the last couple of weeks were up by over 60%. And NBC is still ditching him because, well, NBC is being run by rabid monkeys. Clearly. I mean, it makes sense. Jay Leno did so fantastic in prime time (*cough*) that anyone in their right mind would want to move him back to 11:30. Cue the Jaywalking and Monday night Headlines…comedy gold, people. *cough*
I don’t know who the fuck thinks Jay Leno is still funny, but the monkeys sure seem to dig him. Something tells me that Letterman’s ratings are gonna stay ahead of Leno’s now that this shit has gone down. But we’ll see. Either way, I’m back to not watching NBC late-night.
It’s like “Dallas” in the 80’s. That time when Bobby was killed, but a year later he wakes up and realizes the whole last season was a dream? Yeah, that’s the shit NBC is trying to pull.
“Just pretend the last 7 months never happened. You never saw Conan in the 11:30 slot. See? Jay Leno is host of ‘The Tonight Show.’ You must have dreamt the whole thing.”
Er…right. I was just imagining that “The Tonight Show” was finally funny again.
So. Back to me.
I slept last night. Finally. For about 6-1/2 hours. My brain finally shut off, thanks to classical music. And a beer. And a sleeping pill. And exhaustion.
Music has always been there for me. It’s critical in my life. But lately, naturally, music is trying to kill me. Every song that plays on the radio or my iPod (even on Shuffle) has lyrics that are speaking directly to me. Yes, music is trying to make me have an emotional breakdown.
Normally, I go to sleep to music, whether it’s my iPod or this retro 80’s radio station called The Point (101.5). But with me in manic mode, everything I see and hear is just more stuff for my brain to chew on. Actually keeps my brain BUSIER when I’m trying to relax and sleep.
So the classical music last night (thank you, WunderRadio! 
) did the trick.
Yes, you heard me right a couple paragraphs ago. I think I’m manic right now. It definitely explains a lot of my behavior of late. The racing thoughts have really been out of control lately…far worse than usual.
I have a hard time explaining racing thoughts. Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about them:
Racing thoughts refers to thought confusion which occurs in manic episodes, hypomanic, or mixed episodes. While Racing thoughts are most common with patients with Bipolar disorder, they are also common with Anxiety disorders, such as OCD. Racing thoughts are also associated with use of amphetamines. [1]
Racing thoughts may be experienced as background or take over a person’s consciousness. Thoughts, music, and voices might be zooming through one’s mind. There also might be a repetitive pattern of voice or of pressure without any associated “sound”. It is a very overwhelming and irritating feeling, and can result in losing track of time. Sometimes racing thoughts are accompanied by an elevated pulse, including drumming in the ears.
Generally, racing thoughts are described as an event where the mind uncontrollably brings up random thoughts and memories and switches between them very quickly. Sometimes they are related, as one thought leads to another; other times they are completely random. A person suffering from an episode of racing thoughts has no control over his or her train of thought and it stops them from focusing on one topic or prevents sleeping.
Accurate. This site has a great chart, along with a list of symptoms of bipolar disorder, too. I’ve experienced most every symptom on that list. Lots of big ideas, rambling more than usual, restlessness, careless spending, paranoia, the whole shebang. Heh, I said she bang.
I think of racing thoughts in cartoon form, because I really try to relate most everything to cartoons at some point. Cartoons explain things so much more simply.
You’ve seen Pinky & the Brain, right? Imagine the Brain, mulling over his amazing Take-Over-The-World schemes. He’s sitting there – while images of da Vinci’s Vetruvian Man, chemical compositions, quadratic formulas, Acme Rube Goldberg device blueprints, chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, quotes from Andy Warhol, and giant Pi’s go swirling over his head. Tons of different ideas and thoughts surrounding him, consuming him.
It’s like that in my head. Most all the time. As if my reticular formation is malformed…or nonexistent.
For most of my life, I thought that was how EVERYONE’s brain worked. I was stunned to find out that wasn’t the case in the 90’s. Stunned, I tell you.
It’s astounding, really, knowing what I know now about bipolar disorder and racing thoughts, that I was a straight A student throughout the bulk of my academic career. But somehow I managed to compensate for the mess inside my head.
Growing up, my parents always called me “a dreamer.” But not in a good way, really. A “dreamer,” as in someone who daydreams all the time and gets nothing accomplished. And I always just bought into that. It’s not as if they had any understanding of bipolar disorder, or depression, or any of the other mental shit I’m afflicted with.
My problems were easily explained. Karl is a dreamer, his head is always in the clouds. Karl is lazy. Karl is very smart BUT doesn’t apply himself. Etc. etc ad nauseum. These were the things my parents were dealing with, and I can’t blame them for not knowing the warning signs or symptomology associated with BPD. It was the 70’s. Back then, divorce was still a “taboo” word, kids could go trick-or-treating unescorted by parents, and we still thought that shag carpet was a good idea. Our collective conscious was obviously afflicted.
One of the more prevalent threats I used to get from my folks when I’d misbehave was this: “Do you want us to take you to a psychologist?”
“Noooooo!” And I’d start to cry and beg for them not to take me.
Jesus, I wish I’d said yes. My life might be totally different. But back then, a shrink was a very scary threat. Shrinks were BAD, and proof that *I* was BAD. A fuckup. A loser. Crazy. Irreparably Broken.
Now I know better. Shit, I know a LOT of things better since I started going to therapy and psychiatrists. Not that I don’t often see myself as irreparably broken, mind you. Those negative tapes are still prevalent between my ears. I hear them at full volume a great deal of the time. It’s why, whenever I make a mistake, the first thing I say in my head (and usually out loud, too) is, “Gah! I’m an IDIOT!” Because I am literally hearing that shit in my mind, as clearly as I hear the television or a real-life conversation with a friend.
I tell you all this, about the racing thoughts and some of the other shit inside my brain, so you have maybe a little better understanding about the stuff I have to constantly compensate for. And because yesterday I had an appointment with the Matrix Therapist.
It was basically me blurting out 10,000 things all at once. For an hour. Mom fell on the ice. Now I’m her caregiver 24/7. I almost killed myself TWICE last week. I’m sleep-deprived. I’m losing relationships. My car “Service Engine Soon” light came on during my drive here.
I. CAN’T. TAKE. ANY. MORE.
And I told her I’m pretty sure I’m having a manic episode. She agreed. She’s gonna talk to the shrink and see about adding more meds. Now that we’ve seen me at baseline, and we know the Geodon isn’t enough. I’ve been taking (most) all my meds as directed since January 1.
I need more. And fast.
So she’s working on it. And that’s a good thing.
As for my diabetes, my sugars are running a lot better. Still high at times, because I’m not taking EVERYTHING until we get the meds adjusted. I am, however, checking my sugar 4 times a day (except for yesterday, when it was a very full day), using the regular insulin when I’m way high, etc.
This morning, I tested a 171 straight out of bed. Not bad, considering I don’t take nighttime insulin at the moment. Too scared. Last night, after two slices of pizza for dinner, my sugar was 294. That’s not good, but for the time being, I’d rather be high than low. Sure you can understand why.
My doctor went home violently ill yesterday, so my appointment with her is rescheduled for Monday. That’s when we’ll go over my blood test and make med adjustments. This isn’t a bad thing, since it’ll give her 3 more days of numbers to look over before we change things around. (And thanks to Glucose Buddy I have graphs and numbers galore.)
Mom’s surgery went perfectly. They went in, removed all the little kneecap fragments, reattached the tendon to the remaining kneecap, and it went without a hitch. She’s in a LOT more pain now, though we are staying on top of it with the pain meds.
She goes back to the doctor Wednesday for a follow-up appointment. We’ll know more then. For now, what I know is this. Six weeks in the knee immobilizer. Then 6-8 weeks of physical therapy. That puts us well into April.
Which brings me to my next point. TequilaCon is out for me this year.
It kills me, but quite frankly, I’m seriously considering everything being out for me this year, including BlogHer. I wasn’t kidding about not feeling the social media thing lately.
That may change, of course. As I progress through the Year of Resolutions, my attitude may change. But I have yet to buy my BlogHer ticket for this year. And at the moment, the only must-do as far as travel goes this year is visiting Bubblewench for her birthday.
In fact, I may adopt that for any traveling this year. Just visit friends in intimate gatherings, instead of attending the big blogger gatherings. That does not, of course, include Avitaween, which I can’t see skipping.
We’ll see. I’m not making any rash judgments. I think I’ve made enough of those in the last couple of weeks. And now that I know I’m manic, I know I need to keep the impulsivity in check and try more heavily to rely on my logic, as opposed to my emotions.
Emotions come and go, people. Acting on them impulsively, without any thought whatsoever, is foolhardy at best. And that’s something I’m trying to avoid.
I HAVE decided upon my February Resolution. Will be announcing that February 1. But the other 10 Resolutions for 2010 are still completely up in the air. So keep those suggestions coming.
I’m a natural Glass-is-Half-Empty person. Jaded. Cynical. Even petty. I’m trying, with the YOR, to do a 180 and move to being a Glass-is-Half-Full kinda guy.
It’s a bitch, believe me. My first instincts are always to point out the bad shit. Making a conscious effort to make NOTE of that Negative Nancy tendency – as it HAPPENS – is quite a workout. Those negative self-tapes and all that shit.
But I’m trying. And my friends are helping a lot with that effort, pointing out to me (in the moment) how things could always be worse. And I am trying to be gracious about it, even if in my head I’m hearing, “Fuck, I can’t say a single thing without it being criticized.”
Perhaps, though, the first step is controlling what comes out of my MOUTH, regardless of what’s going on in my head. Fix that part, then we can backtrack a little and start trying to fix the words that AREN’T coming out of my mouth.
Change what I say, then change what I think? I dunno. I could just be totally full of shit. I’m winging it here, people. This shit is all new to me.
Change typically terrifies me.
I hope to change that, too.
Filed under Celebrities, Depression, Diabetes, Inside My Head, Local Goings On, Relationships, Television, TequilaCon, Therapy, Travel, YOR | Comments (29)2000 Zero Zero, Party Over, Oops, Out of Time
I had a great freaking holiday weekend. I really needed it. So much stress, so much bad juju floating around my neck of the blogosphere. Many loved ones in pain right now, myself included.
So I really needed the laughs, and I got them. You can’t not laugh around children; and if you can, we probably won’t get along.
A dear friend of mine – Faith, 6 – routinely makes me spew beverages through my nostrils. She’s a lover of fine cereals, as am I. Her favorite is Lucky Charms, mine is Crunchberries…whatever, it’s a personal preference.
Faith was disappointed to find that the Bob Evans restaurant does not have cereal on their menu. (Course, even if they did, they probably wouldn’t have Lucky Charms.) So the other night, we were all talking about where to go for dinner and I suggested this buffet place.
Before we left, I asked her if she knew where we were going.
“Yes,” she said. “The buffet.”
“You know something, Faith? I’m not sure I understand what a buffet is. Can you explain it to me?”
She nodded. “A buffet,” she said, with big sweeping arm gestures, “is a place where you can have aaaaaaanything you want…except cereal.”
Had I been drinking at the time, I’m sure I would have spewed said beverage about 20 yards through my nostrils. I need more of that for the new year. Laughter. Less stress. I’d forgotten what it feels like to truly relax, to play and be childlike. I hope it’s not something I forget again.
It’s the last day of 2009. Time for me to get my crap together, snap out of the fucking fog that this year has been for me. Time for me to work, get back on the horse, make life a lot less stressful by earning some money.
I have a lot of ideas I want to see happen, a couple of them could really take off.
I want a blog redesign. I want to blog. I want to READ blogs.
I want to continue cutting toxic people out of my life. I simply don’t have the patience to deal with them. And even if I did, I don’t have the desire.
2010 is going to be different. I can feel it. Big things are coming. Good things. The final season of Lost, for one. Listen, I’m not ashamed to tell you this… in my darkest hours, when I’ve all but given up on life? It’s my need to know all the answers on Lost that keeps me hanging on. And they damn well better give me those answers. And if, in the last 3 minutes of the last episode, they show that John Locke IS the Smoke Monster, I’m gonna go postal.
Right, the good things. It’s going to rain Butterfingers in 2010. Cancer will die forever. A Greatest American Hero/Quantum Leap TV reunion mashup movie will be announced. Tiger Woods will join Sexaholics Anonymous. Balloon Boy will inspire a new cult, filled with Balloon Boys and Balloon Girls, and the skies will be filled with mylar and Twitter will freak the fuck out. Again. Dickish ex-spouses and ex-significant-others will stop harassing my friends. Sarah Palin will announce her candidacy for President in 2012, thus assuring that I will vote Democrat for the second time in my life. Fox TV will stop being an asshole about trying to charge people for broadcast fucking television, like the ads aren’t enough revenue for them.
A shiny new 32GB iPhone will be mine.
People around the world will realize that we all have far more in common than not, and they’ll all stop fighting and killing each other over stupid ass shit, like land and drugs and politics and (for the love of God) God. The lion will lay down with the lamb and all that jazz. OK, maybe I’m getting a little crazy.
It’s gonna be good, people, that’s all I’m saying. I demand it.
I’m off to celebrate the end of this hot mess known as 2009. I hope you all have a great night and that none of you drinks and drives (cuz then I’d have to disown you). For those alone tonight, I hope you’ll take in some warm, fuzzy movies on the telly…or some schlocky B-movie sci-fi. And those of my friends that have my cell can call me, of course. Or text. Just know that I plan on getting my drink on tonight, so I can’t guarantee a speedy delivery on the response track.
So all of you have a great New Year.
2010 – now with Improved Flavor and 90% less injunctions!
2HRadio Begins its Monday Night Episodes Tonight! Guest is @ShaunaGlenn
Thanks for all the love and support the last couple of days, gang. I remain on Twitter hiatus, but am slowly climbing out of the funk.
I see the Matrix Therapist on Wednesday, thank God. The bitch better never take another vacation again. I’m OK, really. I mean, I don’t FEEL okay in many ways, but that’s nothing new to me. Depressed is normal when it comes to me. I just don’t let that side show very often, unless you’re a very close friend.
Last night I went over to Mindy’s and Sarah’s place and we watched some of the first season of “In Treatment,” a great show on HBO. Believe it or not, it really helped to listen to a bunch of people in therapy that are more fucked up than even I am. Mindy is good for my mental health.
But enough about my boring depressing bullshit.
Tonight, I begin a second weekly episode of SecondHand Radio! Nothing like that to help raise me up out of the doldrums. (That word, doldrums, always reminds me of one of my favorite childhood books, “The Phantom Tollbooth.”)
My guest is blogger and author Shauna Glenn, the genius behind the blog “Is It 5 O’Clock Yet?” I’m not all that familiar with Shauna’s blog (’cause I suck at reading blogs lately), but I’ve been told she talks a lot about her girly bits in great detail, so I know I like her already. As it turns out, I talk about girly bits in great detail, too. So it’s like Kismet or something. Just with more cootchies and tits.
I like her even though Shauna is another blogger trying to make me look bad by actually finishing a manuscript and getting it published. She’s written a novel called Heaping Spoonful. We’ll be talking about that, for sure. And maybe I’ll slip her some truth serum and pry her agent’s name out of her. I have a few novel manuscripts (and an autobiography) in various stages of non-completion. I just don’t have the wherewithal to complete them, apparently.
Come join us tonight. You’re all welcome to call in and talk to Shauna and me. There’s a chatroom available during the show, which opens 15 minutes before show time. Always pretty active.
Showtime: 10 PM EST, 9 PM CST, 7 PM Pacific
Show Link: http://www.talkshoe.com/tc/23738
Call-In Number: (724) 444-7444, Call ID 23738
Full Schedule of Guests on the 2HRadio Info page
NOTE: I am fully aware that Talkshoe is problematic for some of you. I’m going to attempt to do Thursday night’s episode on Blog Talk Radio. There may be a test show before then just to see how it goes. If it goes well, I may switch back to BTR.
Filed under 2HRadio, Bloggity Blog, Books, Depression, Television | Comment (0)
