No, I'm not really a loser, even if Lindsay (Lindsey? Now I need to go look.. damnit.. and if I go look, I'll lose my train of thought. I'll go back and look and fix this later. Or I won't. We'll see.) I'm only really a loser at games I can't win against my husband, like chess, or Othello, or sometimes Magic The Gathering. I like to win though, and it's about 50/50 if I can win Scrabble.
I won here. Go me.
So tonight's mental health blog is brought to you by.. irritation (not irrigation, as my computer tried to put. Very different words). The past two days I have found myself increasingly irritated by the stupidest little things, but big things don't annoy me. For example: my dog was licking his leg last night while I was trying to pass out. OMG I WANTED TO SCREAM!!! Seriously, it was driving me freaking bonkers. Of course, the damn dog has no idea why I'm hissing at him to stop and trying not to yell. Finally I kicked him out of the room and shut the door. Stinky (husband) was still up playing video games, so it worked out. The light and sounds of people dying were blocked out, and I didn't have the mad licklicklicklick sound reverberating through my bedroom.
Today has been an interesting day. My meds are changing me for sure. I think I'm edging towards hypomanic, or even maybe manic, but I don't know. I've been so fucking depressed for so fucking long I don't even know what's normal anymore. I'm barely sleeping, but those of you who know me well know I don't sleep much. In order for me to sleep more than 4 hours at a time I pretty much have to be tranqed to the gills. I'm having the WEIRDEST DREAMS EVER! Seriously. I woke myself up last night talking about how my dog didn't need panties. Apparently in my dream, there was a store trying to sell my 130 lb dog pink lacey panties. Oh, and then there's the other night when I tried to strangle Stinky. He doesn't remember this, but I do. It happened.. I remember laying there for an hour terrified afterwards. I have no idea if this is a med side affect or wtf is going on but man my brain is fried.
Anyhow, back to the interesting day. Princess Wiggles (daughter.. trying not to use real names here, sorry) got her first haircut yesterday. It's still a bit of a shock to go in her room and see short hair after 18 months of never cutting it. Don't get me wrong, it still touches the collar in the back and you can still REALLY tell she's a girl, but it's much shorter now. We were working on organizing and cleaning her room today when the cat got his face stuck in the window. Yes, the cat got his face stuck in the window. Allow me to demonstrate with a horribly drawn picture. Remember, I am laying in bed at almost 11pm, with my meds on board. Any psychological damage caused by this picture is your own fault.
Purple thing: crib. Brown thing: chair. Grey part: screened open window. Black thing... CAT
So basically, Space Cadet here went to jump up onto the windowsill and look out the window. All fine and dandy, except for a few problems. The chair he was jumping off is a glider, which means it moves. The window was partially open, and all the way covered by the blinds. My cat has the IQ of an eraser. In jumping onto the windowsill, he slipped, and somehow got his head stuck in between the part of the window that slides open and the screen. He then mewed pathetically. I was in the middle of a diaper change with PW, so I couldn't exactly spring to his aid, but I did as soon as humanly possible. He's fine, not hurt at all.. maybe a whisker broken. No brain cells up there to lose, so no harm done. He's currently tearing around the house meowing at the top of his lungs because he can't find me. He has yet to look in the bedroom because the dog is in here with me.
Our day is usually filled with "No Wiggles, honey, leave that alone" or "Be nice to the kitty" or "don't whack the puppy with the hammer!". Today it was "Just because the kitty fit somewhere, doesn't mean you can." I would have a pic of this, but my phone is in the other room and I am exceedingly lazy. Long story short, Koshka had crawled under where we put the spare kitchen chairs, most likely to escape from Wiggles. Wiggles decided to try to crawl under the chairs to get to Koshka. Can you see where this plan might fail? Yeah, me too. Wiggles didn't though. She got stuck. Proper stuck. Started whining, then going... "MA!! MA!!! MA..... TUUH!" Which, in 18 month old means "Mother, I do believe I am stuck and require your assistance:"
This all happened before lunch time. Can you see why I'm on meds? My 50 dollar headphones also got broken, likely beyond repair, Elmo sang his song about 53453045984 times, I heard some song about a cat named Applebee running away about the same number of times, and I ran out of chocolate chip pancakes yesterday. Sodas don't taste good anymore because of the Topamax, and I've lost like 6 lbs. My brain is FUH-RIED!
Yeah, you might say I'm manic. I started this at 10:40. It's 11 now, and I had to take a quick potty break. I'm gonna try to sleep now.. maybe.
This was a hoot to read. That's why I don't have pets! I have a hard enough time with my toddler getting into strange misadventures, having a cat or a dog would double the shenanigans. I can't say I sympathize much for the weight loss though :P
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