Haven’t Felt Much Like Writing…..Thanks To Whoever Created The “Meme”

I am not perfect nor will I ever be, so be prepared

I am not perfect nor will I ever be, so be prepared

For Everybody Who Uses Public Transit

Headphones On....

Headphones On….



This is sooooo how icky I have been feeling recently. Every frame of this cartoon has been me for a while.

Please leave your comments on the original writer and artist’s blog. I, myself, cannot draw :)

Originally posted on depression comix (WP.com):


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Read at depression comix at http://wp.me/s3zYhM-212

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Please leave comments on the original. Reblogged on songtothesirens.com

Originally posted on Mum C writes:


I am here

Here as always

Diligently at post

No need to ask me to leave

I am the immortal boss

Who’ll be here long after you’re gone

So bear with me

For this is my place

I come with sun

Which you can utilise

Your nature will determine my gift each day

Smile, work hard and love in respect

And I’ll reward you

In the full glare of all eyes

To the clear hearing of all ears

And give mouths praises to pound

In mortars of jealousy

You know who I am

I am the brand new day

Greet me with hope

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

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Gotta Love The Government…Not

SSA Disability Benefits

SSA Disability Benefits

 So today I check the mail like I do most days, and today there was a huge envelope in the box. Upon closer inspection, I see it is from the Social Security Administration Disability Determination Services. My nightmare has come true. They are requesting additional information on my abilities and how having Bipolar disorder, PTSD, etc. has changed my life and the way I do things. Then they give me about two lines per question (all 7 pages of them) to explain the unexplainable. Yes, Rapid Cycling Bipolar Type I with Psychotic features does affect your life. Intensely. I have broken it down to wage by hour. If you work a 40 hour work week, at my current amount of monthly disability payment, I earn $6.38 per hour. That is not even minimum wage, and yet, I am so afraid to lose it because all my healthcare is based on the Disability payment. I lose Disability, I lose Medicare, I lose Medicare, I lose my insurance and henceforth, my doctors and my ability to pay for medication. No medication means I go back to trying to manage this myself using willpower alone. I am quite truthfully very scared right now. I cannot go back to the way I was. I was suicidal, nearly an alcoholic, and completely untreated with any medication except Jack Daniels. Screw beer….it doesn’t get you drunk enough. That will pretty much guarantee I will not be able to work.

This is yet another symptom of anxiety setting in (Bipolar too), fatalistic thinking. I am absolutely convinced that they are going to decide I have improved enough to work when, in fact, I have not improved in years. I have been at the same level of functioning for years. I just haven’t been to the hospital in 2 years. This whole thing has me thinking that I need more Klonopin. I wish they would just get it over with so I know what I am going to have to do. Not knowing is making me crazy(ier).

A Letter To My Son’s Therapist: Sorry, Not Sorry


Therapists ought to be required to work in prisons before they can work with the general public. Mine worked in the prison system fro 10+ years before going into private practice, and let me tell you, she is one tough lady. If you have to apologize to her, look out, you will probably end up in tears and feeling as humble as ever. Congratulations to the mother who wrote this. Please leave comments on the original blog post. Thank you!!

Originally posted on Yes, I Really Did Just Say That.:

To My Son’s Therapist,

I do not pay you to placate my son. I do not pay you to be his best friend. I don’t pay you to “be on anyone’s side,” not mine or his. I send him to you because he needs to talk, or I need help with something.

Autism, ADHD, Aspergers, blah, blah, blah, they are all a real bitch. And, frankly, we need some help. Hell, it’s 2014, who doesn’t?

I found a way in my budget and schedule to bring my kid to you over the past 3 years, because I thought you might be of the right frame of mind to be reasonable with someone who is otherwise quite UNreasonable about 90% of the day, not just from ASD/ADHD, but because he’s a raging, pre-pubescent, hormonal mess half the time, too.

I sat there today and listened to my kid say some pretty…

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The Silent Treatment Plays on Your Fear of Abandonment


This article makes my childhood and many of my subsequent relationships make sense…. Please leave comments on the original blog post. Thank you!

Originally posted on Let Me Reach with Kim Saeed:

Woman Holding Onto Man's Leg


Fear of abandonment.  It can destroy your life if left unchecked; especially so if you are in a relationship with a suspected Narcissist.

Narcissists use this fear to keep you in a perpetual cycle of anxiety, causing you to crave their return when they give you the Silent Treatment, knowing they can do whatever they please and you will take them back with little opposition.  You might verbalize your dislike of their choice and explain how hurtful it is, but take away words and the fact is that they insert themselves back into your life with barely a hitch.

What many victims of narcissistic abuse confuse for love is really a manifestation of their fear of abandonment, which has been magnified by frequent silent treatments, as well as the devalue and discard phases carried out by their abusive partner(s).  As a result, they remain in a constant state of…

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Although I Have Posted This Before……

I ran across a picture that I know I have posted before, but it seems to sum up how I am feeling (or not) today. It is not directed at people in general, but rather, myself in my odd non-mood state. There has to be a name for that…..

Is there a name for what's wrong with you?

Is there a name for what’s wrong with you?

No Waves On The Ocean Today


Dead Calm Sea

Dead Calm Sea


Upon being awakened by my very sweet and well meaning cat this morning far earlier than I would have preferred, I did my normal rounds of turning on lights, opening blinds and making coffee (can’t wake up without it, the light thing was my psychiatrist’s idea to clear the Seroquel fog I experience every morning), I find that I am in no mood state. I am neither depressed nor am I manic. I do not know if this is comfortable or not as I do not experience the lack of mood very often. I am not sad, I am not happy. I am not satisfied, I am not dissatisfied. I am not motivated, but I am not unmotivated either. I do not know what to do with myself. I suppose some people would think this state of being to be preferable to the normal ups and downs of a rapid-cycling bipolar who lives in mixed-episode world. However, somehow it just isn’t. I feel like someone gave me Haldol or Thorazine, and I just do not care about a damn thing because I have been sedated. I feel like I could easily spend the day staring at the wall thinking random and rather unimportant thoughts.

I think this feeling is described well as feeling “meh”. Although I have looked outside, and it appears that it will be another beautiful Indian summer kind of day, I have no feeling about that either although it would be a great day to go bike riding, or sit outside and read. Is this what feeling “normal” is like? If so, I do not like it. I feel like someone lobotomized me in my sleep. I want my gently rocking sea back. This flat calm just won’t do. I am too used to going a little bit up and then a little bit down. I have no idea what to do about this. I want my sine wave back; I like the gentle ups and downs of mixed-episode world. Most people that I have met personally would welcome this feeling of normalcy, but I have never felt normal, and therefore, it is not a place I want to be. Everyone else’s abnormal is my baseline. Maybe as the day progresses, feeling will return. Perhaps, I should just enjoy feeling no emotional ups and downs. They’ll be back anyway.

More of my wife’s art


Paintings from the quite talented wife of Opinionated Man

Originally posted on HarsH ReaLiTy:



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