Psycho-Babble Social Thread 18621

Shown: posts 1 to 11 of 11. This is the beginning of the thread.

 

Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas

Posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

Hypo manic today. I guess. I've been here before but never had such an abrupt drop, like someone dropped a flaming aircraft.
Haven't slept, too many stars to count.

There were incidents today. Been off this new mood stabilizer for 5 days but got the refill yesteday so should be back on track real soon.

Lost my car in the parking lot and it took the attendant 2 hours to find it. We just drove around talking b/c I cou;n't rember if I had the red car or the white one, since the old man at rent a wreck is always switching them for repairs.
Leaving the house w/ 2 different shoes on, not realizing it 'til I was far from home, had to abort my plans to visit Payless and buy a new pair.
The bad side has been yelling at my cats. Letting their water bowls go stale. I never yell at them, but the last few days it's been harsh and immediate. They crouch behind the furniture and stare out at me in perplexed betrayal.

Then there's the job, such as it is. Showing up 3 hours late. I was asked about that today and I lied. But that's a step-up from my normal routine, which is to put out that intimidating vibe, "Don't you even look like you're going to approach me", and they don't. They write memos.

But my co-worker was so brave and respectful today that I left a note telling the truth for the first time in my life about what happened, the car, the shoes. I said there have been medication issues and I've scheduled a consult w/ my doctor tomorrow, and I'll be back on track by Monday, guaranteed. I even admitted I had lied to her, and that we both knew it, and thank you for holding eye contact w/me while we both knew I was dissembling.

I make up stories, then after the confrontation write a note saying, there's more to this than I indicated and am working to resolve the matter.

Nobody likes me.
But they wish they could.
Time after time they hear the same vague, forbidding excuse, including the terse reminder that I am aware of my obligations and will see to their completion, then the next time they see me I'm wearing steel-plated armour, mismatched pajamas and errant red lipstick.

It's taking me a long time to admit the mental problems are real.
I keep going back to the idea that how could I have had a successful ten year run in broadcasting if I wasn't on the ball? You have to show up the same time every single day, you have to do remotes and production, you have to keep your ratings up, and I did all that so how can there be anything seriously wrong w/ me?

But my last 2 years were a downward spiral. Nodding out on the air, babbling gibberish, threatening suicide, and forgetting what particular toggle switches were for, leaving the mike open accidentally, not realizing that I was playing records on the wrong speed, and the time I was supposed to emcee a talent show and I told the board I'd do it forfree, that they could pay me w/ 2 magnums of German wine. Then the night of the show I got all dolled up and drove to the university and when I got there it was empty. I walked around getting chills up my neck and trying not to see a thousand paper flyers scattered on the floor and when I picked one up it gave the date of the event as the night before, and said Special Guest: so and so from WOXY. That's not the worst of it. The guy who hired me went out on a limb, since the board wanted to use their usual female announcer from the sucky FM rock station, but this guy insisted that she was old hat.

I was shook by the experience, but chalked it up to partying and goofing and the inherent untameability. I was a tragicomic figure living a life of deliberate excess and glamourous self-destruction.

"What? Do you think you're some kind of a rock star?"
"NO, actually, rock stars think they're me."

Lester Bangs was my hero, and still is to a point. But one day he just didn't wake up, and I later learned that listeners were placing bets on how I myself, was going to die, not waking up being the consensus.

But for now the issue at hand was how was I going to explain the talent show to my program director. Turns out I never had to, I must have put that vibe out, since everybody knew, but no one said anything.

Towards the end it was all memos. I'd get one stating that the music meeting would be Monday at noon, and when I showed up discovered that the meeting had actually been at nine am, everyone else received that memo, and I received the fake one. This is the story of my life.

But now that I've been examined by 3 psychiatrists in the last year (not including my personal pdoc and psychologist) and each of these 3 objective strangers said the same thing, gradual decompensation, schizoaffective, psychotic tendencies etc etc it's just very sobering. They all 3 said my prognosis is guarded, and I'm encouraged by that, all I have to do now is find out how mental patients turn the tide against them and copy their behavior.

One of the main roadblocks is probably my ma, who was undiagnosed and stuff. But when she would lose contact w/reality she'd act like Lucille Ball, complete w/the WAH, OH RICKYs!!
She was trying to turn her confusion into a comedy routine but she was never cognizant of how others received her, and I bet that was the fly in her oiontment.
People, even her best friends were embarrassed for her, b/c of the desperation she couldn't conceal, and the implicit demand that someone step in and shape her reality. That's not a very good model of how to be mentally ill in the world, and though I have my own style, I am my mother's daughter. I think I inherited her camoflauge, whatever, something's getting in the way of my feeling as intitled to be here as other people. Uncomfortable in my own skin.

But I made a departure today, writing that note, shaky hand forming jagged, irregular script, ink flowing from pen tip like a current of energy that passes from one to another and the next to the next, growing smooth and steady with each new post.

At least it's pretty to think so.

trouble
(quoting Hemingway)


 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble

Posted by judy1 on February 20, 2002, at 23:49:33

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

I hope by the time you read this, your meds (depakote?) have kicked in and you've reached some kind of stability without the crash that I always seem prone to. I couldn't help but be struck by some similarities with you- the varying diagnosis- I've heard schizophrenic, schizoaffective, bipolar, borderline, etc- but feel like Mark that the labels are ones of convenience and not all that helpful. I still question how I could have been a scientist for over 8 years with no problems then deteriorate the way I've done. My feelings are that like a lot of illnesses there are periods of remissions, sometimes sustained no matter what therapy or meds are involved. It just happens, and I truly hope it happens very soon to you. From judy who prefers the barefoot look to mismatched shoes, which can be a problem if it's cold.

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble

Posted by IsoM on February 20, 2002, at 23:51:21

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

Trouble, our worlds are very different. I think differently than you do & probably have diff interest from you. But your writings are poignant - not in the usual way I mean, but the lost & troubled soul I perceive in your writings. There's such a deep ache there, it's tangible.

I don't know how to phrase all this - I'm not very eloquent like you & others. It's very easy to explain myself when I'm talking about something that's quanitative but something that can't be easily measured like emotions are difficult for me to describe. Any efforts I put into trying to express them always sound so trite to me. Whenever I've read what I've written before, I've ripped it up. It never comes out the way I feel it.

And what I'm trying to say now - I can't say. I don't even know what I want to say except it's full to the brim in me & wants saying. Your pain, your life - is there no one who knows you & accepts you unconditionally? How could they not? Your name says it all, I guess - trouble. But it's thorns with the roses & you are beautifulto me like a rose. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in your own skin. I don't want you to feel like you aren't entitled to be here like others.

I hate roses - they're beautiful & perfumed but they need too much tending - they get a lot of fungal diseases & insects. And the thorns! I've always got torn & ripped skin when I'm finished tending them but still I buy them & plant them. They're so incredible, they give such beauty & fragrance back, I can't NOT have them. Can't others see that too? What can I say that would make some difference to you & help? Can I?

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » IsoM

Posted by janejj on February 21, 2002, at 0:09:54

In reply to Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble, posted by IsoM on February 20, 2002, at 23:51:21


>
- I'm not very eloquent like you & others.

Untrue !!!!

You're cool IsoM, I like reading your posts and replies.

Jane

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble

Posted by janejj on February 21, 2002, at 0:11:56

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

Your post captured me !!!

Jane

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble

Posted by Dinah on February 21, 2002, at 4:30:22

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

Ahhh, trouble.
I wish I had something to add to what Judy and IsoM had to say, but they both said it far better than I could.
Are you a writer? Your writing is so evocative. It does capture the reader. And I'm not feeling very bright right now, so I don't know how to say it, but you are able to open a door that allows others a glimpse into your world. That coupled with your really extraordinary perceptiveness about others makes for a truly gifted writer.
Take care,
Dinah

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas

Posted by Fi on February 21, 2002, at 16:06:45

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

I'm impressed by you, Trouble!

*You are getting back on your meds even tho for many people who are a bit high, they dont want to and dont.

*You've been brave enough to explain to your co-worker.

*You worked for 10 years in broadcasting- how stressful, and its a really tough career to get into so you have to be very skilled.

*Even the title of this post is imaginative and funny!

I know people with no psychological problems as an excuse who have had to give up and go home as they couldnt find where they had parked the car, by the way....

Fi

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas

Posted by ST on February 21, 2002, at 18:50:44

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

trouble,

You are a great writer. Are you writing any short stories? Poetry? Do you write alot? Do you know you're a good writer?

Sarah

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble

Posted by Krazy Kat on February 21, 2002, at 18:56:53

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

trouble:

How simply beautiful your post is. Just wonderful. I will read it again and again.

"It's taking me a long time to admit the mental problems are real."

Me, too.

- KK

 

Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble

Posted by Zo on February 22, 2002, at 2:00:02

In reply to Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas, posted by trouble on February 20, 2002, at 22:37:07

> Haven't slept, too many stars to count.

> The bad side has been yelling at my cats. Letting their water bowls go stale. I never yell at them, but the last few days it's been harsh and immediate. They crouch behind the furniture and stare out at me in perplexed betrayal.


> But that's a step-up from my normal routine, which is to put out that intimidating vibe, "Don't you even look like you're going to approach me", and they don't. They write memos.


>I even admitted I had lied to her, and that we both knew it, and thank you for holding eye contact w/me while we

> Nobody likes me.
> But they wish they could.


>I walked around getting chills up my neck and trying not to see a thousand paper flyers scattered on the floor and when I picked one up it gave the date of the event as the night before

> "What? Do you think you're some kind of a rock star?"
> "NO, actually, rock stars think they're me."


> Lester Bangs was my hero, and still is to a point. But one day he just didn't wake up, and I later learned that listeners were placing bets on how I myself, was going to die, not waking up being the consensus.

> Towards the end it was all memos. I'd get one stating that the music meeting would be Monday at noon, and when I showed up discovered that the meeting had actually been at nine am, everyone else received that memo, and I received the fake one. This is the story of my life.
>

>They all 3 said my prognosis is guarded, and I'm encouraged by that, all I have to do now is find out how mental patients turn the tide against them and copy their behavior.
>

>
> But I made a departure today, writing that note, shaky hand forming jagged, irregular script, ink flowing from pen tip like a current of energy that passes from one to another and the next to the next, growing smooth and steady with each new post.
>

Talk about getting chills up your neck. . .Whoa!

Dazzled,
Zo

 

IsoM reply

Posted by trouble on February 24, 2002, at 10:27:44

In reply to Re: Errant lipstick and mis-matched pyjamas » trouble, posted by IsoM on February 20, 2002, at 23:51:21

IsoM,

I'm not messing around here, I'm going to show you with your own words what a fine writer you are, as soon as I get down from my soapbox.

I believe you are a born writer. We all are. Something happens along the way to make us doubt our creative talent and we come to dread and inhibit the act of writing. What a waste.

I want you to look for a certain power of expression in the following, try to forget that the words and potential are your own--

>the lost & troubled soul I perceive in your writings. There's such a deep ache there, it's tangible.
>
Whenever I've read what I've written before, I've ripped it up. It never comes out the way I feel it.
>
> And what I'm trying to say now - I can't say. I don't even know what I want to say except it's full to the brim & wants saying.

>I hate roses - they need too much tending -
still I buy them & plant them. They're so incredible, they give such beauty & fragrance back, I can't NOT have them. Can't others see that too? What can I say that would make some difference?
Can I help you?


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