I got out of "group" today, or as they say it "graduated" or as I say it "ran out of insurance".  Whichever way you choose, it means I am now free again!  I won't say group has helped me, but I won't say it has hurt me either.  It was very interesting to be in a group of 20+ who all wanted YOU to listen to THEIR problems, but didn't want you to listen to YOURS.  I found out a week before graduating that not one person in the room, my social worker included, even knew the two main problems that drove me there (well, thoses and my car) when I was accused of talking all the time - shows how well they were listening doesn't it?.  When my regular doc told me he wanted me to go I thought it'd be a take turns kind of thing and I'd get one-on-one counselling if needed AND boy did I need it (reference bipolar blabber).  I would have been MUCH better off if my doc had just suggested go to a counselor - not only would I have gotten my 45 mins worth and all the anger/upsetness out I wouldn't have been PEC'd by an anal of a psychicritist.  And no matter how much I like the new one I don't trust him any further than I can throw him (you don't think I'd keep the one who PEC'd me because he couldn't be bothered to take 10 minutes to explain to me that my drugs were interacting on each other - Oh, no - it was just much easier to put my butt in the hospital against my will - and believe me it WAS!).  NEVER go to a psych hospital if you can help it - lie or whatever it takes to keep the little physicist happy so you can stay on the "outside" - not only are they deadly dull, you can come out worse than when you went in.  The LORD however protected my sanity - and if 6 days of a Charmed marathon won't drive you over the edge you're pretty stable.  Cause that's ALL we did, was watched Charmed - which as a fantasy lover I am drawn to, but as a Christian I am repelled by (witchcraft).  We had at tops 1 1/2 to 2 hrs of "group" therapy - again where everyone wants you to listen to them, but not give you the courtesy of listening back.  I know because one of the other "patients" told me they (that infamous they) meaning the younger crowd made fun of me.  Well, they were no barrel of monkeys themselves!  If I figure out what that means I'll tell ya - it just sounded good and popped to mind!  But anyway - I'm out of group and I'm supposed to go back one day a week for 4 weeks to "adjust".  Show of hands?  If you voted "No, she's not going back" you are probably a winner because as of this time I do NOT plan to go back.  I met some really nice people there, but they are all almost graduated and I don't know some of these others too well - besides I found out today I'm funny (Told you those voices in my head were right - JK - REALLY don't hear any voices and pray to the LORD I never do - I can't imagine how unbelievably scary that must be and I really should stop picking fun before it happens to me) and that I talk funny (knew that - my high-pitched voice has been getting on my nerves for more years than I knew what nerves were.  But that is beyond my control - use to get razzed by a teacher in nursing school for using a little girl voice - heck it was the only voice I HAD) and oh - I scratch my head (NOT dandfuff my stylist says - just habit???).  But I'm so glad to get out, I'm so glad to get out, I'm so glad to get out!  Yeah me!  So celebrate for me tonight.  My celebration included a bowl of Lucky Charms, a couple of Benadryl strips (uck! I mean they taste n-a-s-t-y!) and re-reading a farside cartoon book - done the Bible (well, I have to admit - it was just a once over and NOT the indepth study IT deserve and I need!) and don't feel like any mind edifying stuff tonight!  So ta, ta for now!  See you in the funny papers!

On a scale of 1-10 tonight I feel like a minus 12!  I just can't get a handle back on my life right now after the "incident".   I will NEVER feel "normal" again and will live in shame for the rest of my life (the PEC, not the admit - I mean the Sheriff's Officers were there to HANDCUFF me!) and the worse thing is the anal who put me there isn't suffering at ALL.  So I have to live with what the anal (the ONE useful thing I learned in the "place" - evil theme music playing - was a way to curse without cursing) did to me and he's just continuing on his merry ole life without a qualm - I am wishing bi-polar, schizophrenia, fibromyalgia, peripheral neuropathy, AC tear, loss of prescribing rights, loss of his practice due to a malpractice suit, loss of the respect of EVERY doc in this town and if U can think of a crappy disease or something that won't kill Anal but just make Anal (cap is It's name - non-caps is just a description of a person) let me know!  I want it alive to suffer the rest of Anal's greatly extended life - like it is the first to live to 150 in YEARS.  We were told in "group" (evil theme music playing again) to write a letter then tear it up - there is not enough paper in the WORLD to rid me of my anger towards him.  And YES, I realize I am only harming myself - but I don't CARE!  I WILL NOT be told I can not be angry!  I am pissed off too much at being told in so many words to "shut up" and "quit obsessing" and all that other crap.  I am just plain out pissed!  The major reason I am so pissed at him is that IF Anal had taken TEN MINUTES to explain that antidepressants and mood stabilizers have a toxic effect on each other - NONE of that would have not happened and I would not be a shamed woman the rest of my life.  If you can't tell I hate his guts, his skin, his face, etc. and I PRAY I NEVER SEE IT again UR not very perceptive!

I am reading Bipolar Disorder Demystified: Mastering the Tightrope of Manic Depression (Demystified) By Lana R. Castle Release date: January, 2003 and I can say that I'm glad I'm not like the author.  Her hypo-manic mood swings make mine look like a walk in the park!

I had 3 siblings (bro died 2005) and ALL FOUR of us are/were bi-polar "last name deleted" crappy butt genes that should not have NEVER, EVER been spread.  Father's Mother had 15 kids - 2 died in infancy/early childhood and one as a YOUNG adult.  Of these 13 only THREE are normal (and one married an alcoholic).  The rest are alcoholics or just plain out crazy (bi-polar, schizophrenia, you name it).  I got the plain out crazy, little sis got alcoholic (recovering) and crazy, older sis so plain out crazy it's SCARY and big bro alcoholic, drug abuser and crazy!  We each only had one child - why we passed on these crappy Cupp genes (OK - I said it!) I don't know.  I was not bi-polar until I was about 36 or 37.  Usually it's dx as a young adult, so I was "abby normal" (name the movie where that quote comes from and you'll get - well the name of the movie!) at a VERY late age AFTER I had reproduced.  Now I would not take 10 million for my son and I pray all the time he is spared by a further dilution of "normal" genes diluting out the C.C. genes, but if I had know I'd become mixed bi-polar (hypomanic and depressed at the same time - talk about FUUUUUUNNNNNN!!!) I would have maybe chosen not to.  BUT he is here and I love him more than my own life and I really hope he doesn't come down with ANY of the multitude of mental illnesses that run in the C.C. family!

On a brighter note - church Valentine's party tonight and I won a prize!  A set of glasses, really cute!

In this I've switched from hypo-manic to depressed in 0.5 seconds flat.  For fun, see if you can tell where the switches came in and you'll win a prize - well not really!  But it'd be fuuuunnnnn, fuuuunnnnn, fuuuunnnnn for U!  I am planing to write up the things I wrote in the "place" (there's that evil theme music playing again.  Where's it coming from?) for U to read if U want to be depressed, IF I can read what I wrote with a DULL PENCIL which is all you were allowed to have.  And all you were allowed to do was WATCH TV ALL DAY LONG!  There was NO therapy in this place.  We got one and a half to two hours of "group" (yes, that evil theme music is playing again.  Weird how it starts up????) which did about as much good as bailing out a sinking boat with a teaspoon - no a demitasse spoon.  All the noise did was make me NERVOUS AS A LONG TAIL CAT IN A ROOM FULL OF ROCKERS! Well, all for tonight! 

Gentle Fibro Hugs to All,

buggal