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i don't feel well

although i've put "mental health mondays" on temporary hiatus, this post does sort of fit the bill, except that it hasn't taken any of the effort that those posts usually do. because i'm not capable of making that effort today, because i either skipped my medicine yesterday, or i took it twice, or i slept too little or too much, or i ate too much sugar, or the wrong amount of it at the wrong time. i don't know. i can't remember, because, as much as the medications i'm on help me cope with day to day stuff, they are terrible for my short term memory. i can't go out to the store without a shopping list and even then, i'm at the point of needing an alarm to remind me to look at the shopping list. the sleep thing is unpredictable, because there seems to be a very narrow mountain ridge between the chasms of crazy on either side. the food thing is more of a theory, but there's no doubt that my reaction to sweets and carbohydrates is extreme compared to where it used to be.

days like this aren't just about being "in a mood". what i experience on a bad day is very physical it feels like my insides are trying to run in about twenty different directions, and that my skin is desperately trying to hold them in. sitting for more than a few minutes is uncomfortable. i've already had to stand up and pace a few times in the time it's taken me to write a paragraph and a half. the muscles in my neck are tensed to the point where it feels a little like i'm choking and while i don't have a headache, exactly, it feels like i've got a helium balloon inflating more and more and more inside my skull. i'm also uncomfortably hot, all the time. i get sweaty, which is pretty rare except under extreme heat, which feels disgusting to me. in a few years, i'm going to get perimenopausal, and then i'll get to experience this at the same time i get hot flashes. literal flames are going to shoot out of my eyes.

of course, there is also a shift in my mood when i get like this. i want to talk, i want to babble constantly and excitedly about half a dozen things in the space of ten minutes. i get so keyed up that it's like a stampede at the front of my mouth, all sorts of words getting crushed to death against my teeth because they can't find a way to squeeze through the gate. that's when i'm feeling happy. but on days like today, i also have a hair-trigger temper. i go from happily chattering to violent fury in the time it takes most people to sneeze. earlier, i was ready to murder someone because i was struggling to find a clean pair of tights. that's not an exaggeration. i've tried talking to my doctor about this, because it honestly worries me that just for a second, my fears over the consequences of being caught will be elbowed out of the driver's seat. one day, i tell her, someone's going to brush my arm and the next thing either of us know, i'm going to be on top of them with a toaster that's been thrown in an alley, counting how many hits it takes to drive their eyes through the back of their head. she reassures me that i'm much too calm and composed for that to ever happen.

so why write all this down? because it's days like this that remind me that i'm not ok, that i have stuff that needs work, and that's possibly going to need work for the rest of my life. i need to remember to take the medication that i'm given and to monitor how well it's working. i need to keep track of everything i do, so that, on days when things are 'off' like this, i can figure out what might have caused it. i need to be cautious about going out of the house, where i'll have to encounter others, and where i'll pass alleys with discarded toasters or worse.

and i'm writing this down because i know that there are a number of people who read this blog who aren't ok. i want you to know that it's ok to be not ok. i go through the same things. others go through these things. you can wade through the swamp of the mind and still find yourself getting sucked into the mud some days, because you forgot something, or because your body reacted strangely to something, or just because that shit happens some days. you can find drugs or therapy or meditative techniques or dietary changes that work to help you feel in control, and sometimes, those things just crap out on you. it sucks. [and it sucks even more that there's an army of people willing to tell you that your problems aren't real, or that they're not serious because they can't see them by looking at you, or because someone can't sample your blood and detect the crazy.]

if you're struggling today, i'm feel you [not literally]. if today was a good day, you earned it. it's a fight and we nuts have to look out for each other as best we can.

p.s. :: this illustrations used in this post come from here. there are more of them, and they're quite amazing.

p.p.s. :: the link works now. i'd forgotten to add it at first.

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as long as you're here, why not read more?

jihadvertising?

i keep seeing this ad for tictac candies:



am i the only one who finds the suicide bomber clown at the end a little unnerving? all the nice natural things like the bunny and the [extinct] woolly mammoth and the fruit get devoured by a trying-to-appear-nonthreatening-but-obviously-psychotic clown who then blows himself up. congratulations, tictac, i think this ad has landed you on about a dozen watch lists.

oh and by the way, showing me that your product will somehow cause my stomach to explode in a rainbow of wtf makes me believe that doing consuming tictacs would be a worse dietary decision than the time i ate two raw eggs and a half a bottle of hot sauce on a dare.

mental health mondays :: pop quiz

those of you who are friends of mine on facebook [that might look a little weird to those of you seeing this post on facebook] may have seen my weekly "sunday quiz time", where i just ask random questions in the name of stimulating conversation. after doing that this week, i ended up taking a very wide variety of quizzes on mental floss, which made me a little smug about my knowledge of geography and a little rattled about my knowledge of the finer points of grammar. [i want to say, in my defense, that the one grammar quiz i found was really f**king hard. is that last sentence grammatically correct? i don't know. i have no confidence in my grammar anymore.]

i got so into answering questions about just about anything that i thought it might be fun to apply that format to mental health mondays. i've already done links to quizzes about various mental disorders and how to tell if you have them [i think it turned out i had all of them], but i wanted to do a special set of…

i agree, smedley [or, smokers totally saved our planet in 1983]

so this conversation happened [via text, so i have evidence and possibly so does the canadian government and the nsa].

dom and i were trying to settle our mutual nerves about tomorrow night's conversion screening, remembering that we've made a fine little film that people should see. which is just about exactly what dom had said when i responded thusly:

me :: i agree smedley. [pauses for a moment] did you get that here?

dom :: no?

me :: the aliens who were looking at earth and then decided it wasn't worth bothering with because people smoked even though it was bad for them?
come to think of it, that might mean that smokers prevented an alien invasion in the seventies.

dom :: what ?!?!?

me :: i've had wine and very little food. [pause] but the alien thing was real. [pause.] well, real on tv.

dom :: please eat something.

of course, i was wrong. the ad in question ran in 1983. this is the part where i would triumphantly embed the ad from youtube, except that the governmen…