To be or not to be...drugged that is?

Tonight my parents and I were discussing patience. In my family we all have varying levels of patience for different things. Mom is pretty impatient about everything…and she would be the first to tell you so. Dad can have endless patience with certain things but when it comes to driving and having to explain to people how to do things…he reaches his limits really fast. My brother…well…he’s kind of like momma there. (But don’t tell him I told you so!) As for me…I’m kind of like my dad…I am a relatively patient individual about most things…BUT…when it comes to bad drivers and incompetence I get fed up pretty quick.

Now, I’m pretty sure all of you that have ever driven basically anywhere are aware that there are people driving that have no business behind the wheel and are honestly a time bomb to society…so I won’t really go into that…but let me talk about my pet peeve with incompetence. So what really gets underneath my skin is when people don’t do their jobs as they should be done. I can give most people up to two chances before I’ve had it though. And today…I came close to losing it again.

First off, part of this is my fault. I usually take care of my medication refills a week in advance to avoid any sort of pharmacy/doctor office/insurance company disaster. Well, this week I messed up. I went to take my meds last night and realized that I only had half a dose of one of them. Now for some of you this may not seem like too big of a deal…but to any of you that have ever had any experience with psychotropic medications you know that missing even one dose can throw you for a loop. Well, I convinced myself that I would be fine and I would just get up in the morning and take care of getting the prescription refilled then. Before I went to bed, I submitted an online refill request and made a mental note to check on it in the morning.

Well, around 9 this past morning I missed a call from the drugstore. I checked my voicemail and they said that one of my prescriptions was being delayed. So, I called in and found out that my insurance plan is no longer a partner with my drugstore. I made a sarcastic remark and hung up the phone and jumped into action. I went online, found a drugstore that accepted my plan, made sure all my meds were still covered under my plan and called the new pharmacy to get things transferred over. The lady on the phone assured me with ease that this transaction would be simple and easily accomplished. NOTHING IS EVER SIMPLE AND EASILY ACCOMPLISHED BETWEEN DRUGSTORES! I knew this, but I allowed myself to be engulfed by wishful thinking and let the time slip by. Well, when I hadn’t heard anything by 6 in the evening, I called the new drugstore…and this phone call started what I will refer to as “The Walgreens vs. CVS Tennis Match!” These two drugstores are LITERLLY across the street from one another and they never did finish transferring my prescription. I called back and forth and was astounded that everyone had done their part, but NO ONE could get me my medication.

So, here I sit in the wee hours of the morning feeling dizzy and a bit nauseous because withdraw has started to set in. I sit here and contemplate what I will be doing in the morning. Will I chew off the ear of CVS? Or perhaps Walgreens should receive the brunt of my wrath? And as time clicks forward I can’t help but wonder if some of the symptoms of my disorder will start to resurface before I can get the medication back in my system. But at the same time I’m enjoying the lack of the drowsiness that the medication causes. I mean…I’ve been thinking about talking with my doctor about getting off this and trying something else for a while because of how drowsy it makes me. It’s awful how sleepy it makes you. I can literally fall asleep on the potty! It’s horribly embarrassing to be a grown woman and get yelled at for sleeping in the bathroom again. I hate it. And I spent time with my friends this weekend and I slept most of the day away each day. I mean it really sucks.

So, I’m wondering if maybe I should just take this as a sign that I need to try something different…something that won’t make me miss out on so much of life. I mean I know that this is pretty much the first medicine that has completely worked for me, but I just don’t think the amount of success it’s having outweighs how much of life I’m missing out on because of it.

I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow. It’s actually just a coincidence…but I’m kind of wondering if it an opportunity presented by God…maybe it’s time for me to be brave and make a change. I want to be sane. I don’t want to be frightened, paranoid, manic and/or hallucinating, but I do want to be mindfully aware of my surroundings and the life that I have.

So, I’m sitting here wondering what I should do in the morning. Do I call the pharmacy and figure this thing out with the meds? Or do I wait a few hours and talk to my doctor? Only God knows what the morning will hold…

Love, Randi

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Fire

Fire.

There is a fire destroying everything.

It’s climbing up the walls, over the floors,

Into the windows and through the doors.

They all stand outside.

They look with curiosity.

As screams for help reach a new velocity.

And no one tries to help.

It engulfs all the structures,

While they watch, with glee, as vultures.

And it all begins to crumble.

All the sweat, blood and hard work,

Gone, with an echoing tumble.

The smoking heap burns out.

And nothings left, no one survived.

The smoking heap burnt out.

And they all turn away,

There’s no longer anything on display.

You see, they all want to be there when the show is big.

They all want to see the spectacle that destruction can be.

But when the flames fade and the smoke burns out,

They’re all left with the inevitable truth…

They watched…

They watched and did nothing…

And they alone have to live with the destruction

The destruction that will burn them alive.

Burn them inside,

As the cycle begins again.

Fire.

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Do I dare...?

Another year begins and I wonder should I dare to get my hopes up? Last year I was so sure of myself. I just graduated and I was getting ready to go to graduate school. I was thrilled at the prospects of the future…and then one of the worst years I have ever had happened. I’ve always said I don’t half ass anything, and I guess that goes for literally everything. So, it should come as no surprise that if I was gonna have the year from hell, I was gonna do it up big…”Miranda Style,” if you will.

I started out the year with a bang: Mental Breakdown #1. Hallucination and delusion and mood disturbances to boot. Then March happened: Mental Breakdown #2. Hallucinations, delusions and mood disturbances all over again. In April I was accepted into graduate school and I guess I had the nerve to think that things were going to turn around. Then the financial aid department gave me hell. I didn’t think things would ever get straight and when they finally did, I moved out of my parent’s house. Again, I had the nerve to think that things were going uphill finally. Then entire first part of that year I had started gaining weight back. I think it started as a medication side effect and then turned into emotional eating. The week after I moved into my first place I fell over my foot drop on the way to my NEW JOB! I was so excited about the job. I felt like I was finally being an adult in a real way. I was living on my own, I was going to graduate school and I was working a pretty sweet job…all at once…like a normal adult my age would.

After I fell I kinda just gave up on the weight loss thing. I got depressed and didn’t make any efforts to work out and at the end of August I had a pretty epic manic episode. It didn’t put me into the hospital, thank God, but my clinicians did talk about it.

At the end of August, I started feeling yucky all the time. And then one day, in the beginning of September, a few hours before work, I felt really horrible. So, I called into work and told them I was going to the doctor. I went to the urgent care and basically whimpered in the waiting room until they called my name. When they took my vitals they told me I needed to go to the emergency room because my oxygen levels were low. Long story short: pneumonia. They loaded me up on meds and sent me home.

I never really got better. Somewhere in the middle of all of this I adopted Howie. He was a bright light in the middle of a storm for me. I’m pretty sure I owe that dog my life. I love him so much and miss him so much right now.

A few weeks after the ER visit with pneumonia, a coughing fit threw my back out. That was horrible. I ended up back in the ER and again they loaded me up on drugs and sent me on my way.

About mid-September I got kicked out of school. Now, I will be the first to tell you, I’m not normal by any stretch of the imagination. And I know that there were approximately three times were I behaved abnormally in class. The school requested a note from my physician telling them if she thought I was capable of participating in an advanced degree, higher level education program…and my doctor told them I was. But a few days after they received the letter, they called me and told me they felt I needed to address some “concerns,” before I could continue. I was pissed to say the least. I mean a doctor…with a MEDICAL degree just told you I could do it. What are your qualifications? I was wronged and I know it. They did give me the option of returning, but I don’t know why I ever would. The teachers were horrible to me in the first place and then the administration gave no consideration to an ACTUAL DOCTOR’S point of view. So, why exactly would I want an education from underhanded, backstabbing, insecure morons in the first place? (I’m still a little pissed if you can’t tell…)

Well, this wasn’t the end of my horrible year. A week after the school gave me the boot, work called and said they were releasing me from the project due to performance…which is a fancy way of saying I was fired. I had never been fired from a position before. I’ve had unfortunate circumstances prevent me from returning to jobs before, but I had never been fired. Now, let me explain to you how this happened. You see, the job was telephone interviewing. They monitor your interviews per calls made and this is how a projects stats are generated. You see their problem with me was that I was making a lot of calls, but I was completing interviews. This kind of annoyed me because I actually had quite a few partially completed interviews, where the individual had to leave…and I couldn’t blame the person…it was a freaking 30 minute interview and there was absolutely no benefit for their participation. So, I was having bad luck with interviews…I had missed work from having pneumonia and there was this one incident involving a joking note that was accidently left behind that no one but me and my therapist found funny. (I got bored and wrote about deciding to go insane and would someone please feed my pet monkey while I’m on the crazy express lane...I thought it was funny, but work ended up making me get evaluated…oops.) So, yeah…I lost my job.

So, then I had no source of income and bills started gathering up. I sold a bunch of stuff on eBay and managed to make rent and everything for the month of October, but I never could find a job…so I had to move back in with mom and dad at the beginning of November.

I was devastated. And honestly, I still am at times. I lost everything I had going for me….even my dog. My parents are awesome and I love them, but I don’t think no one wants to be in their late twenties and still having to live off their parents. It sucks. I hate the way I feel pretty consistently. I feel so helpless. My physical health has deteriorated and I can’t really do much by myself. I don’t get out often because of my health and because I have no income. Sometimes I feel like everything I do is a burden to my family. I hate that I have miles worth of medical expenses and no way to help take care of them myself.

In December I started seeing a weight loss doctor to try and start a new healthier lifestyle. As I drove home I thought to myself…I’m gonna turn this all around. I’m gonna lose the weigh, I’m gonna recover from this stuff…I’m gonna fight hard to overcome all the adversity in my life. As I thought these things a lady slammed into the back of my car going at least 70 mph. My car was propelled into a guardrail, it bounced off, spun around, knocked the railing again and stopped on the side of the road facing traffic. My knees have been even more horrible since the accident. They were already bad, but the good one tends to hurt now too because of how hard it hit the gear shaft.

So, I sit here about two weeks into the New Year and I wonder…do I dare have hopes? Do I dare to dream? Do I dare plan? Vocational rehab is coming up in February…do I dare hope that they will help me find a good job…one that I can work and take care of myself and feel like…well, an adult. Do I dare dream of success? Do I dare to dream of a Master’s degree in Social Work? Do I dare to dream of being a licensed therapist? Do I dare to dream of writing a book one day? Do I dare to dream of living? Of living a life of peace, of success, of service to others…a life where I’m not constantly overwhelmed by a personal crisis, where I can reach out and help others. Do I dare to dream of health? Both mental, physical and spiritual? Do I dare? Because in my life daring to dream of these things has never really panned out…in fact it seems that every move I make forward is met with a thousand slaps in the face and a mile’s worth of getting throw backwards. And I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’m on the wrong path…if maybe the things I dream of doing one day are not what God wants for me. But when I pray…when I talk to God about the future…it feels like he’s saying: “You’ll get there. I know you long to minister to others and you will get there. Just keep going…just trust me…just have faith in me…let me pave the way…let me mold you and shape you…just hang in there…we’re gonna get there…I promise.

And I hold desperately to His promises. I’m that same 9 year old that heard Him say “I’m real, and I love you.” I’m that same 12 year old that heard Him say: “I’m gonna use you in a mighty way one day…you’re gonna touch the lives of many through My Spirit in you.”

So even though I sit here wondering if I dare to hope and dream of a bright future, I already know that answer is “Yes, I do dare.” So get ready 2015…because yes, I dare…

Love, Randi

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The Year from Hell

This year has been nothing short of utter chaos. I started the year in January with my first mental relapse in over two years. I came out hoping to get my head back on straight and continue to lose weight. It didn't happen. I ended up on a medication that made me gain weight and then on top of that I seemed to have lost my motivation to workout and eat right. In March I had another breakdown and ended up in the hospital again. But I got out determined to make something of myself. I started grad school in May and was excited to be on my way to becoming a therapist...my dream job. But I still wasn't quite together and my teacher took notice. In July I got a job and I signed a lease for my first place...things were looking up. The week after I moved in I was rushing to work and tripped over my bad foot and hurt my leg. My leg swelled painfully and because of the nerve damage the swelling still won't go down.

After that I really didn't wanna go anywhere. I needed to swim, but my leg hurt. I needed to be in church, but my leg hurt. I tried to focus on work and school but I could feel myself slipping into depression.

And then I was manic. I stopped sleeping and had endless energy. I was wreck less with my safety and money. I created a lot of credit card debt and picked up a homeless man. In the middle of all this school had taken notice of my questionable mental stability. They wanted to know if my therapist and psychiatrist thought I was capable of being in an accelerated masters level program. Strangely enough I was making all A's, but they had questions all the same. My psychiatrist informed them that I was perfectly capable of being a student. But alas, not even a week after the letter arrived in their hands they decided that I wasn't capable in their opinion and gave me the boot. It was a big blow..And it hurt a lot it felt like the Emmanuel fiasco all over again.

At the same time I was facing some issues at work. There was a joke gone terribly wrong that ended up with me having to get an evaluation as to if I was capable of working the job and if there were any special considerations I needed. Apparently a note saying you are going insane and to feed my flying monkeys is only funny to me...oops. But I played the game and got them what they wanted.

But a week after school gave me the boot...my job "released me due to performance," which is a fancy way of saying I got fired. So within a week I lost my job and my place as a student. Devastated didn't even cover how I felt. So I searched for a job like crazy and got into contact with vocational rehabilitation. But nothing came through...despite several promising interviews.

The first of November I gave up and moved back in with mom and dad. It sucks. I love my parents but I am too old to be living with them. But I'm trying to make the best of it. I finally got some headway with vocational rehab...I'm waiting to start my evaluation. But on the way home from my appointment with vocational rehab I got a seatbelt ticket...really? Now I know I was asking for it and it's no one's fault but my own, but could I please catch a break? Oh and what is up with court costs? The fine for the seatbelt is only $25...the freaking court costs are over 100! Really Wake County? Thanks for that one!,

But I refused to let even that get me down. So, this past Thursday I went to a doctors office and got started on a program to help me lose weight again. Then on the way home, BAM! ...car wreck. I didn't see or hear it coming...just out of no where the lady nailed the back right side of my car. It launched my into the guard rail so hard my car bounced off and swung around and the back end it. I came to a stop on the side of the road facing traffic. It took me a little to figure out what happens and what side of Hwy 64/264 I was on. Then I realized I wasn't wearing my glasses or my ballcap anymore...the. I realized I needed to call someone..Then I realized I couldn't find my phone. Then I realized my car was totaled and the headlights that we had just replaced were crushed...I was like "dammit, I only got to use them once!" The pedestrian that I said this to looked at me like I was insane. He asked if I was ok, I told him I think so. I finally found my phone, hat and glasses in the backseat.

Now, hear I am a few days later and I have had to accept the fact that the one good knee I have is jacked up. I thought it was just sore and would work itself out in a few days...I was wrong. So now I'm down a car and I don't have any good knees anymore.

So, with all of this said I'm thinking about going into hibernation for the rest of the year. The entire year I have been thanking God because I know it can always be worse...and then for some reason things would get worse. So here's to hoping nothing else goes wrong this year. And with that said I'm going to list some things that I'm praying and believing for in 2015.

1. To get my but back in church!

2. Health...in mind and body.

3. A job with benefits...including GOOD health insurance and enough pay to get me on my own two feet and off of mom and dad's dime...and a job that I like.

4. A new apartment...better than my old...in a good neighborhood, in Raleigh.

5. To have my dog back living with me.

6. A car that is dependable, good on gas mileage and one that I like the way it looks...preferably a hatchback but a coupe is acceptable.

7. Healthy relationships with family and friends.

8. To spend some spare time volunteering in my community.

9. To always make time to read a good book.

10. And to never forget to write.

I'm praying and believing with God that 2015 will be a better year than 2014.

Love, Randi

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We Needed a Chill Pill

I totally lost it last week. I’ve been on edge for a while. I feel like a failure after having to move back in with my parents, and I guess I finally snapped.

A few months ago I met an individual whom was in need of a friend. I helped her through her time in need…against my better judgment. She was in a psychiatric hospital and I allowed her to borrow a few of my books. Now if you don’t know me I have to tell you something about myself: you don’t come between me and my books. I find literature very comforting and I am very fond and much attached to all of my books. If I lend you one of my books I expect you to treat it with great care. I expect the book to be returned to me in the same shape that it was sent out and I expect the books to be retuned in a timely manner. This means that if you have had one book for more than three months and you haven’t read it yet, then you probably aren’t going to read it and it’s time to return it.

Well this person had kept my books for two months and was finding every excuse under the sun to not return them to me. She lived about 30 minutes from my apartment and I offered to meet her halfway. I made numerous attempts to retrieve my books and in the end I even volunteered to go and get them from her apartment. Eventually, I hit a boiling point.

My best friend was with me in Raleigh, wrapping up some things with my move back to my parents and I was texting and calling this individual multiple time in an attempt to either meet her or go to her place to get the books. She was not responding at all and my temper flared. We made the joint decision to tempt fate and go to her place and try and see if she was there, or a roommate was there and could get the books from them. Once we arrived I told my friend that I couldn’t go up there because if I saw her I was going to hurt her…and I was serious.

Now, I know you guys are seeing this as an overreaction…and to some of you that may be true, but you have to remember the stress I was already under and the previous two months that I had been trying to retrieve my books already. So, my friend went up to the apartment and I waited in the car.

And I waited and waited and waited and my friend didn’t return. And I actually started getting worried. My already furious mind started thinking that this girl may hurt my friend, so I got my phone and called my buddy’s phone…and she didn’t pick up. So, I began to ready myself for a march up to that apartment to punch this girl in the throat. But before I could get out of the car my friend texted me and saved this girl and myself from a cat fight. Finally my friend came down with the books and now she was pissed. And before I could leave my phone dinged and that stupid b&%*% texted my phone and called me a stalked…and the circuits fried and I saw red. My friend just kept saying let’s go, let’s go and finally I realized that if I didn’t me and my buddy were going to beat that girl senseless.

And I took one of my chill pills and I gave one to my friend (don’t judge us). We both slowly calmed down and went to a bookstore…because bookstores make everything better. :)

So, would love to tell you that once I reached that boiling point and blew up yelling and screaming about my books and that jerk of a whore, (I still may have a few issues with her) that I’m back to my normal level, but honestly I feel like my nerves are raw all the time. People are getting on my nerves more so than usual.

So all in all, moving back in with your parents sucks. You get use to things the way you want them and then suddenly you have to go back to doing everything their way. Go to bed at this time, don’t leave your glass there, clean your room, no you can’t have any of my peanut butter…blah, blah, blah. But this too shall pass…it’s just now would be nice. Until next time,

Love, Randi

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