That way, when I have a new doctor and they ask “Have you ever taken ___?” I can tell him yes or no by doing a simple search here. I’ve also been doing pretty good with keeping track of side effects and stuff.

If anyone is actually reading this – please note – I’ve been kinda outta it lately. All day today I have felt like I was in a dazed and confused state of mind. So, a LOT of what I’ve been writing hasn’t been making much sense. I’ve been losing my train of thought very easily so bare with me. Okay?

So, I went to see the pdoc, or psychiatrist, today. I told him about how Seroquel was causing me nothing but problems. 50MG of Seroquel was causing me extreme rage and no sleep. 50+-100MG was causing me to sleep for over 15-18 hours a day! Way too much to function. Thankfully I was playing around with dosage of Seroquel while Mike was home for the weekend so I could sleep. Otherwise, I would have been screwed.

So, he checked my blood work to see where my lithium levels were. I was only at a 0.4. He said ideally I should be at a 1.0 – 1.5, so I have a lot to increase. He wants to increase me low and slow. So, he told me to take 1200MG of Lithium instead of 900MG. He wants me to check my blood again on Monday. So, in about a week or so I’ll go get my blood work done again and see where it is from there.

He also told me that he wanted me to stop Seroquel at once and he was going to put me on:

Risperdal at 1MG starting

Ambien at 10MG starting

He said that this mixture of Risperdal, Ambien, and Lithium should be my best bet in getting me stable. He said that it’s no wonder Lithium hasn’t done a lot. I told him that I have noticed a change already though. I have been a lot more calm. My rage attacks are still there but not as frequent. They’re still very intense though, that’s where the Risperdal comes in.  He said that it should directly help with my rage and slow down my extreme angry. He gave me a small dose of Ambien to take to help sleeping. He told me if I lay down and after 45 minutes I’m still tossing and turning then to take it.

In a sense, I’m kinda scared to take it because of all the nonsense I’ve heard about it. I’m going to follow doctors orders and just do as he’s told me. I’m going to be sure to try to sleep without it first though.

… with that being said, my next topic. My attorney’s meeting is on Thursday. Three more days away. I’m super nervous… anxiety really. Okay, to be honest, I’m FREAKING the fuck out. What happens if he comes and talks to me and says, “I cannot help you.” Or what if he like thinks I’m a psychopath!? What if he comes and says, “Suuuuuure you’re nuts, but you’re intelligent so I don’t see why you can’t work!?”

I keep telling myself, “They interviewed you on the phone, Nikkole. She said she thinks they can help you. So, calm down and know that they already believe they can help you so don’t think they’ll come saying they can’t.” … Can I listen to that? Absolutely not! I mean, I don’t believe I’ll get disability without an attorney. Without an attorney, I’m going to just continue to appeal, and appeal, and go to court, and cry my eyes out that I really need help, and appeal… and then ultimately get denied and then be left to fend for myself! I just can’t take that!!! It’s bad enough I have family members that believe I have absolutely no business even applying for disability because I don’t deserve it or need it.

1. I wouldn’t have applied if my doctor didn’t tell me that I would get it.

2. I wouldn’t have applied if I really needed it. Do I believe I can work, not a chance… I mean, yes, I can get a job, but its a matter of keeping the job! I mean, my rage attacks? Who the hell thinks I’d be able to keep a job with the rage attacks I have. I get pissed off ONCE and I’d go off on a customer or on my boss! How about when I’m depressed and I give a flying fuck about anyone.

So with that being said … I completely loss train of thought. :| Fuck. That’s all I really needed to say.

New meds. Check.
Attorney appointment on Thursday. Check.
Freaking the fuck out … Check. Check.

Moving along… I got an attorney. They only get paid if I win. It’s only 25% of my back pay if we win. So, that’s good… I have someone meeting with me for an in-home consultation next Thursday, August 26th. I’m incredibly nervous because I don’t know how attorneys work. I don’t know if they’re doing it to just scam you or if these people are legit. I mean… I’m 99% sure that the company I’m going through is legit. They have commercials on every hour! Mike’s going to be with me while I meet with this guy because I have HORRIBLE time listening to all the information being given to me. I figure with him being there A.) It will get him involved with my disability. B.) He’ll be able to keep better track of everything that is said. C.) He’ll be able to make a better judgment if this is what I should do or not. I’m happy to have him here with me through this process.

Next was my therapy appointment. This went exceptionally well also. We started off the session with him informing me that disability contacted him as I was handing him my “last ten years with bipolar” evaluation.

“Oh my. I wish I had this three weeks ago when disability requested it.”

“Yea, we didn’t see each other.”

“Well, did you see Dr. Phansalker?” he asked.

“Yes. I did. We set up a brand new medication mixture. Lithium and Seroquel.”

“WOW! Lithium?! I haven’t seen anyone on lithium in over ten years. Did he say why he wanted you on that?”

I explained to him how he felt as though lithium was the safest bet for me. “He didn’t want me on just a random medication. He wanted something that would work, and work fast. He didn’t want me playing around with maybe this medication will work, or maybe that one. He knew lithium worked for so many years, so why not try it.”

“Why not Lamitcal?”

“Well, after he diagnosed me with Bipolar I Disorder, he felt it was better that I just be on lithium. Lamitcal is better for patients with Bipolar II Disorder.”

“Oh. So he diagnosed you?”

After explaining to him the remainder of the appointment, including the resignation, he was shocked. “I’m impressed. He must really trust you. I’m the owner, well I and my partner are the owners of this practice and his practice and when he told us that he was leaving us only knew that it was health related. I didn’t even know how old he was. He truly must trust you. With that being said, I’m going to ask him if he can continue to see you at the Wheaton Franciscan office. He’s not fully retiring; he’s just downsizing a lot of his patients but leaving a few clinics. When you see him again, ask him about seeing him at his new office. He obviously is working great for you. You obviously are a good patient to him for him to confide in you. Maybe we can get him to continue to see you at least to fully get you stable.”

I was shocked and relieved. I didn’t know he wasn’t fully retiring. If this works out, where I can just go see him in his other office, it would be a life saver. Literally.

Our therapy appointment continued on. He sat there reading my evaluation throughout the entire appointment. “What do you mean, racing thoughts?” he would ask. I would do my best to describe it. “What do you mean you’re paranoid?”

“Well, a perfect example of this … I thought you were under the impression I was only using you for disability. That’s not the case. In fact, the last three weeks, I spent going over it in my mind thinking you believe I am only here to use you. It really churned my stomach and it made me not even want to come to this appointment.”

“I’m going to be honest. I thought you had only seen Dr. Major (my last therapist whose across the all from this doctor) a few times before coming to see me. After I went through your chart, I realized you spent a great deal of time with Gary. If I thought you were lying just to get disability, I’d tell you. I know you’re a very intelligent and honest person. You can see it in your eyes. I believe your intelligence makes you capable of having a job. Now that I have this evaluation from you, I can see how difficult it would be for you to keep a job. Your instability for your moods would make it it nearly impossible to work. Sure, you could get a job no problem, but there’s no way you’d be able to function completely and keep it without blowing up at someone. I’m going to do my best to help you with the disability. I’m going to read through this evaluation and really study it. I’m going write up my thoughts as to why I feel as though you can’t work because of these problems you have with your unstable moods. I think you getting an attorney is a great idea. It’s very difficult to get disability but with all these factors you’re heading in the right direction.”

This really put my mind at ease about disability. I mean, I’m still scared to death of applying. I guess I just can’t take the rejection of knowing I’ve been busting my ass to get better, and even though I have the right doctors now – its still going to be a process. I think I deserve it, but I also think it’s going to be incredibly difficult to explain how I can be smart, and perfectly capable of getting a job but not being able to keep the job and/or function completely. I mean, how do you explain that you’re smart as hell but too fucked up to do it? Ya know?

Well, the rest of our appointment went well. He reassured me that he knows I”m not just using him for disability and he’s willing to help me with everything. My anger issues. My past. My disability. EVERYTHING. Which makes me feel great. I don’t go back to see him for another two weeks. He didn’t want to see me until after I seen my pdoc again.

… we’ll see what happens. With disability. With the therapist. With the pdoc situation.

I feel like I have 30000000000000 things going on at once. It’s driving me a little insane … well, more insane than I already am. We’ll see what happens.

The first two appointments were fairly alright. The first one was amazing. I thought this guy can really help me. He can do a lot for me. He had a lot to offer. I informed him that I was in the process of getting disability applications going. Well, I don’t know if this rubbed this guy the wrong way but during my second appointment he made a comment about how when I see my new pdoc I shouldn’t mention the fact I’m applying for disability because doctors don’t like to be made felt like they’re only being used as someone whose gonna write for their disability application. This really rubbed me the wrong way. In fact, I felt highly offended. I explained to him that it wasn’t my intentions to use them only for disability. I also told him that if he didn’t want to write anything back to disability he didn’t have to. I wanted help for everything, not just because disability. I wanted to only inform him in case they called. That way, when they called he didn’t go “uhm. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ya know? Ugh. It really offended me. I plan on going there next week and telling him as soon as we sat down how it made me feel. I plan on telling him that I have no intentions only using him for disability and that I’m here for help only.

With all that being said; I also seen my new pdoc yesterday. We sat down and he explained that he was going to ask a long series of questions. I nodded my head and he began. Every time he asked me something I would respond then try to explain. “No no, I’ll ask that in a moment. Let’s stay focused.”

It was actually nice to have someone tell me what they want/need from me. We didn’t use any time on wasted information. He finished up with his questions after about 20 minutes and said, “Well, your diagnosis is Bipolar I Disorder. You will be given Lithium (300MG x3 daily) and Seroquel (50MG x1 Daily). He told me that I should get the book “Survival Guide for Bipolar or Bipolar for Dummies” and I informed him I had it. He told me to read the entire section on Lithium. I’ll be returning next week to get my blood levels checked to ensure my kidneys can handle it. Also said that the Seroquel will help with my rage and aggression and will calm me down from that.

I’m really hopeful with this latest mixture of medications. He wanted to start me on Depakote but I told him I had an extremely bad experience on it. I was probably on a bad dosage of it but yea.  He said that he’s going to let me try out Lithium and if it doesn’t work he wants me to give Depakote one more try. He said that I was in really bad shape and that he needs to get me stable. That’s the biggest priority for him and myself – get me somewhat stable. I’m really in bad shape lately. My mixed episodes, rapid cycling, and severe depression is just bad, bad news.

I really do have high hopes for this doctor. It seems to me like he’s got his shit figured out and he knows what he’s talking about. It’s about a 35 minute drive for me to his office and that is a bit of a pain in the ass but honestly, its the least I have to deal with. I finally have a good doctor. That’s all that matters.

I’m sorry I haven’t had the opportunity to write much here. I really have to figure out this whole two blog situation. I’m not quite sure what to do at this point. I have no problem running two but I know in the end only one will survive. Do I just say fuck it. Write in my other blog all the good and happy things leaving this blog for my rants and raves? That’s my intentions. All in all, Eternal Amour is what’s going to be left standing… what’s on this site is the question. If I make this blog and site open to the public for friends and family to see (which is what I’m doing my other one) then I’m going to have to delete pretty much everything I’ve ever written in the past. I’m going to have to sugarcoat A LOT. No one can handle the real stuff when it comes to bipolar disorder, or my thoughts and feelings. Unless it’s got a fake smile and a chipper attitude, then that’s all that matters. No one wants to hear the good, the bad, and the ugly… They just want to hear the good…

Another reason as to why I don’t want the general public (my close friends and family members) reading everything I’m writing is because people feel they’re suddenly entitled to give their opinions in my situation. “If you don’t want to hear what people have to say, then don’t post it publicly.” I post it publicily because someday, somewhere, I will help someone out. I’ll have someone whose going to come by and read what I write and say, “I can really relate to you. Thank you so much for being so public, open, and honest. It’s so great to hear someone out there feels the same way I do. It makes me feel so much better to know I’m not alone.” But then, you got your fucking cousin or aunt or whoever telling you, “Nikki. You really lead a negative life. You need to smile and think about what a true blessing you are and how much you truly have.” Honestly, when people tell me that shit I just want to bitch slap them and tell them to shut the fuck up already.

I know I am blessed. I know that I have a pretty easy and nice life. I know I have two beautiful and healthy children. I know I have a man who loves me dearly. I know what I have… but I also know what I don’t. I don’t focus only on the good and what I do have because then I’ll never STRIVE or push myself towards the things I don’t have… Ya know? Anyways, I’m rambling. I thought I’d post the blog to tell you all what’s be going on…

Now onward to write in my other blog which will include recipes, and “mommy tips” …. Honestly I have a feeling that will become my “mommy blog”. You know the, ones I always bash. Eh, we’ll see what happens. My intentions are to use the site for the “good side” of me. This one is the truth, honesty, and bare-all me. Guess I have to put a fake smile on my face for some people just to keep my own sanity, ya know?

I feel like I have postpartum depression again. Where you so badly want to accept and love everything in your life, your children, your fiance, everything, and you just can’t. You look at all that you have and feel absolutely nothing. I feel absolutely nothing. I keep blinking my eyes and uncontrollable bouts of tears come out. I feel like shit. I feel like doing absolutely nothing. I just sit there and stare off in a distance thinking about just how badly I’m fucking up everyone’s lives. I zone out for what feels like hours.

Mike asked me last night what was wrong and all I could say is, “I’m depressed.” He can’t understand what or how I’m feeling. No one can.

I should be in the hospital. I know I should be. The fact that this depression is so severe that it’s scaring the living daylights out of me tells me I shouldn’t be sitting here I should be in some form of care.

Lynn, Mike’s Mom constantly talks about his aunt. She’s depressed or mental or something. She had cancer, and fought & beat it. .Ever since then she’s been addicted to pain killers and does a LOT of shit for attention. Anytime she’s in a different place she goes to Urgent Care for treatment. Everyone frowns upon everything she does. Mike’s Mom especially … This makes me feel as though if I go to the hospital she’ll do the same thing for me. She’ll go “Oh yea, Nikki got committed today. I mean, what does she think she’s doing? How could she do that to her kids and to Mike. Doesn’t she care anything about them? I mean, how can a mother not care?” This is why I don’t tell her anything. This is also the main reason why I haven’t gone in yet… I’m scared she’s going to look at me and judge me and feel as though I’m putting Mike through too much. I feel like its irresponsible of me to sit here and make Mike miss work because “I need help“.  I’m scared people are going to think of it as that I need attention.

I know, I know. STOP CARING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK.

I wish I could. I can’t make Mike miss work because I’m having a bad day. It’s not fair and quite frankly its selfish.

I don’t know what else to do. I’m freaking the fuck out. I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to feel like this. I want to look at my kids and feel love and overwhelming feelings of affection towards them. I feel nothing.

I had a friend say, “You really should love them more and spend more time with them. You don’t want them looking back and thinking that their mom didn’t care anything about them and did nothing with them.” FUCK YOU. Don’t you think I already think that on a daily basis? Don’t you think every single fucking day I wake up and say “I should spend more time with my kids. I should play with them and love them and give them affection they need. I should hug them and tell them I love them.” ITS NOT THAT FUCKING SIMPLE. If I could do that, I wouldn’t. I don’t know why and don’t understand why I can’t just fucking do it. I hate it. I hate myself for not being able to give my kids everything they need. I hate what i’m doing to them. I hate how I’m raising them. I want to be a good mom. I want to be a great mom. I want to wake up every morning and be grateful to have a family and a man that loves me. I want to feel grateful for ANYTHING but I don’t know how.

I just want help. I want to know what to do. I want to know how to fix this. I’ve been trying for years and its only getting worse.

I don’t know what to do. I need help. I’m SCREAMING out for help. I get nothing. If I were to mention to Mike when he is home that I should go to the hospital he goes, “Then fucking go.” … gee way to make me feel great. Yes, he said to go, so I should go. It means that its okay. No, it doesn’t… It makes me feel like he’s like “well whatever. if you feel you have to go. then go. but i don’t care regardless.” /

This is what I’ve come up with so far to inform him… I’ve left a lot out because I simply cannot remember. This sucks beyond belief but at least I’m writing SOMETHING from the past 10 years instead of , “I can’t remember anything.” Right? It’s just going to have to do.

Age 13 I had severe depression at this time. I shut myself off from the world by barricading myself in the house in front of the computer. I didn’t go out to hang out with friends. I didn’t really talk to anyone. I stayed home online for days without a single problem doing so. I was extremely suicidal at the time. I used to cut pretty bad back then. I would have uncontrollable fits of crying and anger. My rage was just beginning. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. My self image was depleted. This lasted almost the entire year with a few minor manic episodes in between – nothing that was substantial that I can remember specifically.

Age 14 I began having more manic episodes. My mind began racing and I was unable to control my thoughts or my feelings. I was delusional in my beliefs of what others thought. I believed they thought completely different things that were the truth. My school work didn’t matter to me – nothing mattered to me. I grew this mind set of “I just don’t care anymore.” which caused to self destruction. I began doing marijuana and alcohol with destructive friends. I also became sexually active. I had a mind set of nothing I did had consequences. I felt as though I was better than everyone else. I was better and bigger than my parents and felt as though I had absolutely no need to listen to what they had to say because they were wrong.

Age 15 I continued on my manic episodes throughout these years. I was still very self destructive. Nothing I did had consequences. The drug and alcohol abuse continued to progressively get worse. My friends were worried about my actions. I began having sex with random guys and as long as I got affection and attention from them that’s all that mattered. I met Matt and I was very euphoric after that. Nothing could go wrong. Everything was perfect. Nothing mattered. I dropped out of high school. I stopped seeing my friends. My “I don’t care about anyone but myself” phase shined through again. I didn’t care about any responsibilities as long as I felt good. I went days without sleep and had so much energy I could run a mile. I would forget to eat and drink which landed me to end up very sick.
Age 16 Before/during pregnancy I began another sprout of depression. I started to feel very worthless and like life had no meaning. I began cutting again. My new son and boyfriend didn’t matter to me. My favorite activities couldn’t even keep me preoccupied. I stopped talking to all my family and friends once again. Everyone grew progressively worried about me. I would have days of doing nothing but crying and sleeping. I pretty much lost 40lbs and ‘wasted away’ to nothing because I did nothing but sleep in bed. There would be weeks where I wouldn’t have done nothing or seen any daylight. I kept myself shut, blinds drawn, and in complete darkness. I quit my job at the time because I couldn’t force myself to go.

Age 17 After I broke up with Matt I triggered myself in to another extreme manic episode. Once again I began sleeping around with a few random guy friends. I became a ‘party girl’. Work wasn’t a priority. My son wasn’t a priority. I just cared about myself and what I wanted to do. It was all the same stuff, I was very destructive, rebelling, and slept very little which caused my aggravation and rage to soar. I worried my family with my careless attitude.

Age 18 -19 Were pretty tame … I had very tame episodes – or at least nothing substantial that triggers a lot of memories of severe episodes. I do recall having a few segments of rapid cycling.

Age 20-21 I hit a severe manic episode which caused me to push Mike away. I craved attention from others, especially guys. I put my job and relationships in jeopardy because of this affection and attention need I had to have fulfilled. I don’t believe in cheating but I felt as though I should at that time. Nothing Mike could do was right. Nothing anyone could do was right. Work was extremely hard during this time. I would excel when feeling euphoric but then it got to a point where I would no longer follow rules or direction because I felt like I was above my management and that I knew more than them. My mind would race uncontrollably making it very hard to express my thoughts to others because it would come out so fast people couldn’t understand it. My thought processed a lot slower than my hands would type at work. This would cause me to screw up at work – it was vital that our tickets were spelled correctly and made sense — I had a hard time doing this. A lot of time when I’ m manic, I have a hard time expressing simple thoughts because of racing thoughts. My mind thinks too fast for me to portray what I”m trying to type. Causing me to make easy mistakes. I began to not get along with my co-workers because my attitude changed. I felt like I was better than them and I didn’t have to speak to them.  My careless and carefree attitude returned. I pushed Mike away to the point of nearly breaking up. I thought I was better than him and nothing he did was fine.  I nearly lost my job many times because I would blow off the advice of my co-workers and my management team. I also went weeks without sleeping more than a few hours a night that it got to a point where exhaustion would set in. During the time the exhaustion hit I would begin to call in to work – we had a thing called “VTO – voluntary time off” in which you can volunteer to go home because it was dead. I left on a daily basis because I didn’t feel as though it was my responsibility to stay. I just didn’t care of what my responsibilities were. This caused me to lose money and make it extremely hard to pay off debt and bills.

Then, I got pregnant and caused a complete change. This is the year I went from extreme mania to extreme depression without any down time in between. The depression was severe. I began to cut again – for the first time in a long time. I was extremely suicidal. I scared Mike to the point of not wanting to leave me alone to go to work because he feared what I’d do. I stopped eating and drinking – this was also due to the illness I get while pregnant called hyperemesis. I slept hours upon hours a day. I ended up leaving work and being put on short term disability because of the illness – and a majority because of the depression – thankfully I was more sick than anything so I didn’t have to let work know that a lot of it was due to depression. I would go days without doing anything but what was absolutely necessary. I begged Matt to take Nickolas for weeks so I didn’t have to deal with him and so I could just stay in solitary confinement that I made for myself.  This continued until after my youngest son was born.

Age 22-Present Extreme mixed states and rapid cycling. My episodes have gotten progressively worse over the past two years. Everything described above with the symptoms I receive with both mania and depression have been magnified times 10.  I’ve had more manic episodes than depression in the past two years. The depression comes and goes, and only lasts for a few days but when it hits its severe.  Suicidal thoughts have accompanied these but nothing substantial to be self destructive. I have had problems with racing thoughts while not being able to focus on my tasks or activities. I’ll be manic majority, if not all the time, while having bouts of depression for a few days here and there. Increased sex drive, increased urge to spend and party. Anti-social and shut out from the world while wanting attention from others. My biggest problem right now is that I’m paranoid, unable to focus, and unable to think properly. My thoughts are racing so much that I can’t slow them down enough to have a rational thought. My tasks and responsibilities for the day are taking a toll because if I’m manic I feel like I don’t have to do them and that they’re not my problem – if I’m depressed I’m usually stuck on the couch doing nothing around the house anyways. I don’t move. I feel worthless. I feel as though everyone is better off without me. I feel like I’m ruining my child’s and fiance’s lives. I can’t function normally or do what is responsible of me.

My hygiene takes a huge toll also.  In fact, I’ve previously been fired from a job because I went through a bad bout of depression and came to work on a daily basis looking ‘scrubby’ in sweats and unshowered. It’s not that I don’t notice it, I do, I just don’t care or feel like I’m worthy of taking the time of day for myself to do that. I have a hard time dressing and looking professional while I’m depressed. I just want to feel comfortable when I feel so down.

It’s been very long since I have had a laid back day without feeling extreme mania or extreme depression. I have pushed a lot of people away. I’ve given up on a lot of battles for disability, schooling, relationships, just to regret it and start back up again. I make a lot of poor choices and say a lot of mean and hurtful things just to also regret it afterward. While I’m manic and/or have mixed states like this I say a lot of stuff without remorse or thought. This also gets me in a lot of trouble.

When I lose patience or get any form of extreme emotion – whether it be upset, happy, manic, depressed, I need to take a break to calm myself down. This happens so frequently and it takes such a long time to get back to normal that it makes it very hard to be on a set schedule. While working, if I were to get upset I’d pretty much stay upset the entire day, losing my cool, because I was never able to fully take the time to cool myself down to be functional again.

One instance while working I thought I had made a massive mistake and it triggered such severe depression and anxiety that I cried uncontrollably until my boss told me to take the rest of the day off. I was completely out of hand and my panic attack worried everyone around me. I nearly quit my job because if that.

Another thing I have to deal with on a regular basis is my changing interests and raging ideas. When I am feeling particularly manic I feel like I can conquer the world. I take on a lot of new tasks and hobbies. I make life altering decisions on impulse because I feel like I can handle it. Some of my daily routines and hobbies include couponing, entering sweepstakes, and web design. I go in so many spurts where I get focused on all of them and I get a great routine down – then I hit depression and I don’t care about any of them. This follows a lot of aspects in my life. I’m very focused and determined while manic then I drop everything like they mean nothing ot me while depressed. This frequently changes … and it makes the life altering decisions I decide on while thinking on impulse very hard to solve. While manic I make purchases to follow through my ideas. For instance, I’ll purchase a new web domain when I feel manic to pursue a new business idea or personal site I have in mind. I have also done this for a lot of other hobbies. Spending money on something I’m fond of that day and putting all my time, energy, and money in to this one idea. I think in an irrational way when it comes to these ideas. As soon as depression hits, I forget about it completely and or don’t care to follow through with it no matter how much time, money, or energy I’ve spent on it.

That’s the hardest thing with my moods – they’re so unpredictable and uncontrollable that when they hit no one knows they’re coming. They come out of no where hit hard and hit fast. This made work incredibly difficult. I’d be doing GREAT one day, excelling in all they’re asking me to do then BAM! I have depression and I could care less what I was doing. Then all the sudden I’d get picked up and excel again. It got to a point where my bosses didn’t even want to talk to me or ask of anything of me because they didn’t know how I would react. It seems that’s how it is in every aspect of my life. My co-workers, bosses, family, friends, Mike, and my kids are always on egg shells because they don’t know if I’ll be in a good mood or a bad mood. Being incredibly unstable with these mood shifts make any tasks, whether they’re daily chores or important duties incredibly hard.

That was yesterday. Today, Matt called and we got in to it again. I honestly don’t even know what was all said. We exchanged words for at least an hour. To sum it up, Matt denied every hitting me in front of Nickolas when we were together. He kept hanging up on me because “he didn’t want to raise his voice in front of his son at home”. Which was complete and utter bull shit because he used to scream at me at the top of his lungs causing Nick, who was a newborn at the time, to cry hysterically.

I told Matt, “I’m not taking your abuse anymore. I’m no longer with you. I’m no longer under your control. You can sit here and insult me or belittle me but I refuse to take it anymore.” He hung up on me again. Why? He had his girlfriend listening on speakerphone. He didn’t want her to hear our past.

When he called back I asked why he kept hanging up on me and he said that the past is the past. I’m not allowed to speak of anything of the past. We are allowed to only speak of things regarding Nickolas. Fucking whatever. I just don’t want him to control Nickolas like he did me.

Whatever. So, he brought up the fact that he’s going ot fight for custody *again*. It’s becoming an empty threat. I told him, very calmly, “Please. Go ahead. Fight for custody. I’ll be awaiting the paperwork saying you’re serving me to a hearing. Until then I’m not holding my breath. If you feel as though Nickolas is better off at your house, fight for custody. Until then, I’m not letting you have him. I don’t trust you.”

“You can’t do that. I have police documentation stating so as long as I have a court order granting me rights to see Nickolas, I can. I just have to give you a twenty-four hour notice before taking him. I can take him whenever I wont. However long I want to. There’s nothing you can do about it. If you want to fight it, I’ll contact the police and they can come arrest you for not following court orders.”

He was right. I know the whole process. Our court orders state he is granted visitation at a reasonable time upon reasonable request. There wasn’t shit I can do about it.

I explained to him that we’d be gone a lot during the month of July because we have a lot of events that I want Nickolas to attend. I told him we’d be going up north for about two weeks. He wanted to know exactly the date in which we were leaving. I told him.

“Fine, I’ll take Nickolas until the 9th of July. This is my twenty-four hour notice. I will be picking him up in exactly twenty-four hours. I will be keeping him until the 9th of July. You can’t do nothing about it.”

I demanded that he doesn’t stay that long. I don’t trust he’ll be okay that long. I always try to give Matt the benefit of the doubt that he won’t harm, or put Nickolas in harms way, while having him. I mean, that’s all I can do right? I don’t have absolutely any say in what Matt does or doesn’t do with Nickolas while he’s in his care. All I can do is hope and pray that he’s treating him right.

I told him that he had a doctors appointment and he said he’d keep him until the 1st then. Which is one full week. What can I do? Nothing. So, I guess Nickolas will be gone to Matt’s house until a week from now. He came and picked him up right away because Nickolas wanted to see his Dad.

I think the worse thing about all of this is in Nickolas’ eyes, Matt is a saint. He buys him everything he wants. He takes him to exciting places every single day. Matt is lost in this “perfect family” world now that he has his rich new girlfriend and possibly a new child – which I still don’t believe is his.

He made some smart ass comment about how I do nothing. I’m a retarded bipolar nutcase that don’t know how to take care of my children let alone take care of myself. “You’re a scrub. You don’t dress yourself in any thing but your pajamas. You don’t take care of yourself. Look you already rotted all your teeth out of your head. You’re nothing. You’re scum. I refuse to let you treat Nickolas that way. I buy him everything. You get $230 a month in child support. Why the hell doesn’t this kid have name brand clothing???”

Whatever Matt.

I’m losing all energy to listen and fight with him. I’m warning everyone right now …

Someday, I will snap.
I’ll finally break down and just snap. When I do, I will have the absolute  most intense and the worse break down I’ve ever had in my entire life. I don’t know what will happen at this point but I know that it’s not going to be too far away. My strength to fight him is gone. My strength to ignore him is gone. My strength in general towards everything pertaining him is gone.

I cannot continue my life doing this. I’m screaming out loud for help. I’m telling everyone around me. I will snap one day. I don’t know how to stop myself. A person can only be pushed so far before breaking in two. What would you do if you had to deal with this on a daily basis? Would you be strong? Sure, I’m strong. Sure, I’ve dealt with this for the past seven years, but seven years is a LONG time to just swallow my pride and my emotions regarding this. Eventually, they’re going to explode. I’m going to end up in the hospital for a few weeks, in jail, or dead.

At this point, I have no idea what I want to do. I don’t know/think I have the strength to fight for this anymore. A part of me wants to say, “Get off your fat lazy ass. You don’t need disability benefits, its an easy way out. You need to get the fuck over it and go get a god damn job. Figure out daycare. Figure out food stamps. Get off state benefits and fucking do something with your life instead of sitting around “collecting welfare” and being a bum.” … Now, is that me talking, or my delusions of what everyone else thinks of me? Probably both.

I also scheduled to start seeing a psychotherapist again. Hopefully this one doesn’t fall asleep on me. I don’t see them until August. Mainly because July is a ridiculously busy month for us with our trip and vacation and everything else going on. I really don’t know how this is going to work. I mean, I have to go for weekly appointments at an office that is twenty minutes away. I don’t have the resources to go to these appointments every single week. Sure, I can schedule around Lynn’s (Mike’s Mom) schedule and just have her watch the kids while I go to my appointments, but I hate having to ask her for everything. She says she don’t mind, but seriously, would you want to watch the kids every single week, sometimes on your only day off? What choice do I have in the matter? I need to see one again. I probably will have to see one for the rest of my life. I’ll probably be on medication for hte rest of my life.

My bipolar disorder is progressively getting worse and worse by the day. I’m becoming aware of so many huge red flags that keep going up. I don’t even know what I think about it anymore. I’m in a massive mixed state episode and it’s bad. Guess we’ll see what happens, right? I’m going to have to reschedule the current appointment I have, and see where I go from here.

I need a therapist for disability. I need a doctor whose going to be on my side and help me get this. I need it. I either need it or I need to get off my ass and go beg for my job back.

Life can kiss my ass.

Today I was over at Mike’s mom’s house because she wanted us to come along while she took the cat to be groomed and go shopping. Basically the cat groomer is 40 minutes away so she shops while she waits, didn’t want to do it alone. We got to talking and she was talking about how Nickolas acts when he comes down off his Adderall. Long story short, when he comes down off his medication, he becomes highly emotional. We were discussing how Matt doesn’t want him on it; at least, he said he didn’t want him on it prior when I brought it up. He was unaware I had him medicated. It all made perfect sense when she said, “Just imagine what that puts Nickolas through. He comes off his medications and he’s so exhausted so early because of what’s going on with him. Imagine how exhausting and hard that is for him. If Matt doesn’t give his medication then he has to go through that. You have to tell Matt to get on the bandwagon with this.”

“You don’t understand Lynn, Matt will refuse. He is adamant about not giving Nickolas medications. He refuses and doesn’t believe or agree with it.”

Upon thinking about it for a while I decided to just get it done and over with. I don’t want Nick to have to go through that emotional rollercoaster that happens when he’s off his medication just because his Dad doesn’t believe in it.

I called him up and in the nicest way I told him. “Matt, I wanted to let you know that Nickolas is currently on medication.”

“FOR WHAT?!”

“For his ADD. I took him to his doctor and we sat down and did some talking and he said there was no doubt in his mind that he had it. We spoke for a good twenty minutes about it and he said he didn’t even have to do testing. Just by witnessing what was going on with Nickolas during our conversation he had no doubt that he had ADD.”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT! All doctors say kids have ADD. It’s because you’re too damn lazy to take care of Nick. You just want him sitting in front of the TV, on Ritalin drooling. That’s all you fucking want. I cannot believe in twenty minutes you could have a doctor diagnose him. How the hell could he diagnose him in twenty minutes!? THERES NOTHING SAYING HE HAS TO TAKE THIS MEDICINE. YOU want him to take these pills. “

“Matt, his doctor and I have been discussing this for years. When he was two we figured it was just a phase. When he was three we thought it was just a phase. Then again at four, then five, now at six he diagnosed him REALIZING it wasn’t a phase. We have been going over this for years now! Nickolas has it. Accept it. Sometimes, it’s that way. He can’t be perfect. I can’t be perfect. Not everyone is perfect. You’re so controlling everyone has to be this perfection you want them to be. I have bipolar. I have to take pills. It’s something I HAVE to deal with. You of ALL people should know this.” Whoops. That is NOT something I wanted to come out of my mouth. Fuck.

“NO! I will NOT accept it. This is fucking bull shit. I have absolutely NO problem with him. He’s a perfect angel for me. Just because you’re fucked in the head and need pills doesn’t mean our son is! “

“Uhm, Matt! You have Nickolas for twenty-four to forty-eight hours TOPS at a time. Of course he’s going to be a perfect angel. Take him for a week I guarantee he will behave for you exactly how he acts for me. He’s a perfect angel for you because you let him do whatever he wants.”

“No! He acts out with you because he’s fucking BORED. You sit there and put him in front of the TV or the computer and have him sit there all day long. He doesn’t do ANYTHING with you. Get off your fat lazy ass and take him somewhere. And it doesn’t cost money either. WALK him to the park. Get off your fucking ass, walk him to the damn park up the block and let him fucking play. I guarantee he don’t act out then. You act as though I fucking take him everywhere and spend all this money.”

“Matt, you do! You take him for a week I guarantee you don’t take him somewhere every single moment of every single day.”

He blew up at this point. “I guarantee I have him for five days, I will spend those five days taking him places and doing things with him. I don’t understand why the fuck you can’t do SHIT with him.”

“Who says I don’t Matt? Want to know what we did today? We went to the stores all morning then he spent the entire afternoon swimming?”

“What? While he was at Lynn’s house?”

“What the fuck does that matter?” Remind you, the entire time I was on speaker phone because to be honest, I knew he was going to be like this. I knew word for word this is exactly what he was going to say. I did it to sort of show Lynn, see this is how he treats me. This is why I can’t push him to give him his medication. He does whatever he wants and he gets away with it.

“It doesn’t. So what? You did one fucking thing. You know what you’re not going fucking nowhere. I take him places. We do things together. I have a fucking perfect job. I have a trophy wife. I have a great family. We do things together. I’m going to buy a house. We have Nickolas his own bedroom. I’m fighting for custody. That’s it. I can’t stand him living with your ass no more. You can’t fucking take care of him. You don’t take care of him. I’m going to fight until the death for full custody. Your ass don’t fucking do a god damn thing for him anyways.”

“Fine. Fucking fight me for custody. I don’t even care anymore. Go for it. I guarantee you don’t get it anyways. You don’t have a bedroom for him. You live in a one bedroom loft apartment. There’s no room for Nickolas. You won’t get him.”

“You know what Nikkole. GROW THE FUCK UP AND GET A GOD DAMN EDUCATION AND FUCKING DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR LIFE. You’re fucking nothing. You’re not going anywhere. You’re not going to be anything. You’re uneducated. You have no house. You’re going to live in apartments all your life. You’re not employed. You have no education. You have a shitty car. You’ll always have a shitty car. You’ll always have a shitty apartment. You’ll never have a job, and if you do it will be nothing. YOU RELY ON A MAN FOR EVERYTHING. YOU CAN’T FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. YOU NEED SOMEONE THERE TAKING CARE OF YOU. OR YOU SIT ON YOUR ASS AND COLLECT FUCKING WELFARE. GET OFF WELFARE. GET OFF YOUR ASS. STOP LETTING MEN TAKE CARE OF YOU AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND YOUR FUCKING KIDS. “

At this point… I lost it. You can only be pushed so far and hard before you absolutely break down and give up. I screamed in to the phone, not caring that Lynn was there, or my kids were near, “IT’S YOUR FAULT! I WAS FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN YOU ARE THE ONE THAT CAUSED ME TO DROP OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL. YOU’RE THE REASON I DROPPED OUT. YOU’RE THE REASON I HAVE NO EDUCATION. YOU’RE THE REASON I WON’T GO ANYWHERE IN LIFE. IT’S YOUR FUCKING FAULT.”

“Oh, so because I got you pregnant at sixteen it’s my …”

*Click* I hung up. I then broke down, and proceeded to cry and cry. Lynn said nothing. She didn’t mention it. She didn’t say a word to me. I sat there repeating back every single thing he said to me over and over and over again. He told me every single insecurity I have and confirmed it in my head.

He controlled me when we were dating. He controls me now.

He says whatever he wants. He gets to me. He knows this. There’s not a god damn thing I can do about it. There’s nothing I can say to make myself believe what he says isn’t true.

Imagine this… Think of the number one thing you’re the least proud of. Do you think that you’re stupid? Then do you tell yourself over and over to make yourself believe you’re not? Well, now that you believe you’re not, have someone your ex that burned you worse than you’ve ever been burned tell you that you’re stupid. You’re going to listen. You’re going to feel shitty. You’re going to now believe that you are in fact stupid because another person confirmed it for you. That’s exactly how I felt. Everything that I believe is true:

I’m fat. I’m lazy. I do nothing for my kids because my bipolar physically, emotionally, and mentally drains me to the point of not giving a flying fuck what the kids do during the day. I’m not going to be anything. I’m not going to go anywhere. I’m never going to own a house. I’m never going to have the nice car. The nice clothes. The nice things. “My standards are set low.” I’m always going to depend on someone taking care of me.

I promised myself after him I’d never be dependent of another man for as long as I live. What do you know? I’m dependent of Mike. Without him, I have no idea what I’d do.

I would like to be that parent that spends time with her kids. I want to be the parent that sits there and colors for hours and plays. To be honest, I can’t. I don’t know how. I have to FORCE myself to spend time with them. I know there are people out there saying, “If you want to spend time with your kids then just do it.” I CAN’T. Maybe it’s even that I don’t want to. I have no desire to do SHIT when it comes to anyone. I just want to crawl in to my little hole of bipolar bull shit and fucking withers away to nothing. I don’t want friends. I don’t want kids. I don’t want a fiancé. I honestly just have no idea how to handle any of it.

What kind of worthless piece of shit parent thinks that way!? I don’t want my kids half the time because I can’t handle them because of my bipolar? Bring in social services, take them away now. That’s what’s going to end up happening because I’m too god damn fucking honest. FUCK! I don’t want to be like this. I want to be a good mom. I want to not be depressed. I want to get off my fat lazy ass and do something. I DON’T KNOW HOW. I don’t know how to force myself to do it.

Did you hear that? I have to FORCE myself to spend time with my own children. I’m a sad excuse of a parent. I’m a sad worthless excuse of a person.

Everything Matt said was true.

… I don’t even know what else to write.

EDIT: … the ending got a little emotional. I typed so fast to the point I don’t even know what even came out. My mind went blank, so I ended it.

Once Lynn arrived, I flew out the door, jumped in to my car, and ran home. I retrieved my phone in record time. I headed to my dentist appointment. I had 35-40 minutes to get there. It’s quite a drive actually. I’m going from the south side of town to the northeast side. According to Google Maps, it takes approximately 31 minutes. Either way, the dentist offices and appointments are things you’d rather be 30 minutes early to than 1 minute late.

Now, I’m not all that racist, but the northeast side of Milwaukee scares the living daylights out o f me. I’m an innocent looking white girl walking the streets of the ghetto. I know how to act, but I’m scared. So, please forgive me if I say something that sounds remotely racist. It freaks me out.

I arrived at the dentist office faster than I could have ever imagined. Once again I had to park up a residential block and walk a little bit. I walked up the street, fingers intertwined in my keys, my phone in my other hand. If someone was coming after me, I was swinging hard.

I walked in to the lobby and there were  people everywhere. I checked in at the front desk and attempted to make my way through the crowd to find a seat. I sat down, got out my book and began to read. I know that this wait is going to take a long time. My insurance sucks. You have a 10am appointment you best guarantee you’re not going to be seen until at least 11:30am if not a lot later. Therefore, I bring a book with me. I come prepared. I sat there watching as one by one people would get up and bitch and moan that their appointment was an hour ago and they don’t have time to be sittin’ there waiting. Rule number two: If you have an appointment, you know damn well they’re going to take a long time. Arrange your day around it. I make sure to take an appointment the day Lynn has off. If I’m sitting there for three to four hours it will be okay cause she has no where to go.

After an hour and a half and I was finally called in. I barely even seen my dentist. He popped his head in and said, “Two weeks. That has to be a new record for us. Is that fast enough for you?” in a joking way.

“Absolutely. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” I responded.

The dental assistant came in with my new set of teeth. She told me that she’d have to adjust them to work right. She put the bottoms in and boy were they tight. Basically I have one tooth in the front left missing. The tooth next to it shifted on a diagonal because there’s nothing there holding it back anymore. So, when she put it in she pushed that tooth back in an upright position. Yeouch! After adjusting the bottoms she taught me how to unhook them out. She proceeded to put the top ones in and play around with how they felt. She made sure my teeth were lined up properly on the sides. I bite down a couple of times. It felt weird. They felt like I had these huge vampire fake Halloween teeth in my mouth. She didn’t tell me much about them. She just kept asking, “Do you have any questions?”

When you’re put on the spot like that, its hard to just pull questions out of no where. I asked a few about taking care of them. She then sent me on my way. She told me if I needed any adjustments to come on in and get them done. I didn’t have to make an appointment for that either!

I had ‘em. I had my new teeth. I looked at myself in the mirror once I was able to finally get to my car and lock the door. I realized something; I looked weird. I mean, I told Mike I looked like a Who from Whoville. (The fact that my nose points up has nothing to do with that, hehe) I couldn’t help but stare at myself in the mirror every few minutes. I decided it was going to take a long time to get used to looking at myself like this.

(BEFORE)

(AFTER)

Right after my appointment, I went to MATC or Milwaukee Area Technical College. I wanted to finish enrolling myself in school. I arrived there, found the registration after looking for a good 20 minutes and asked them what I do next. The lady took my high school transcripts and told me she wasn’t allowed to use those. *gasp* Wait, what?

“I cannot use this. First off, it has to be in a sealed envelope. Secondly, it doesn’t have a gold seal saying that its authentic.”

“But, this is all the school would provide for me. It was an online high school, I don’t have anything else.” I argued.

“Well, you’re going to have to see the councilor about this.”

I went to the next room where I could find the councilor. I was under the impression I’d just be filling out a form or something and getting rolling with my degree. Boy, was I wrong. I placed my name on the sheet. I waited a few moments while the lady ahead of me went to speak to him. Finally, he called me in next.

“Yes, I applied online to do an associates degree. I paid the application fee. I’m just wondering what I do next?” I asked.

“Well, uhm… do you have your transcripts?” I handed my transcript and waited patiently as he looked it over. “We cannot accept this transcript. You see, it’s on my list of unaccredited schools.” He pointed to the list on the filing cabinet. “Yup. Penn Foster isn’t an accredited school we’re allowed to except. You’re going to have to do a GED program. You can do college courses in that. Unfortunately, we cannot use this though.”

I was irate. I wasn’t towards him, but I was fuming in my mind. I’m sure if I had the ability to do so there would have been steam coming out of my ears. I looked at the transcript and said, “So this thing is completely useless?”

“Unfortunately it is. We cannot use it. You’re going to have to do our GED test. Also, that’s not covered under financial aid. So you’re going to have to pay out of pocket for that. Like I said before, you can do some college level courses during your GED so you can use those towards your degree.”

“So I spent $700 on nothing? I worked so hard for four years for absolutely nothing? All this for nothing. This transcript is completely useless?!”

“Yes. I’m sorry. We can start setting you up with classes for your GED.”

“No. I’m going to have to think about this. I cannot believe this. I will get back to you all. I will be back later after I look in to this more. Thank you for your time.” I said right before I stormed out of the building.

I was so upset I nearly started to cry. I mean, I worked my ass off on that degree. Sure, towards the end I didn’t do all that great with the learning process of it, but regardless. I went to high school until I was a junior. I then spent four years doing what I thought was a full blown high school diploma. Now I have to go back and do this for a third time?! Jesus christ. Why the fuck didn’t I just stay in school in the first place? Why the hell did I have to have Matt sprinkle his fairy “everything will be okay if you stay with me” dust in my face and drop out of school? Ugh!

So now what you ask? Now, I have no idea what I’m going to do. I mean, I have to get my GED again apparently. I think today I’m going to go to my old high school and pick up my transcripts. I didn’t get very many credits while I was there but at least it will be something, right? I’m going to go back to MATC and sign up for my GED and just do it. I fucking hate that shit like this happens to me. I mean, shit like this ALWAYS happens to me. It’s not that like, oh its life that stuff doesn’t work out the way you planned. Oh no. It’s more like, “We’re going to make every single thing you do a hard and grueling process. Not a single thing you do will be an easy task.” Fuck you life.

Anyways, that was my day yesterday. Quite eventful. I’m still trying to get used to my teeth. I haven’t ate much at all lately. I still have very little of an appetite. I gag every time I think about them too much or if I’m talking for too long. I still think I look weird. Mike even said, “I’m so used to how you look without them that this is just a little weird. I have to get used to them.”  So, it’s a process I suppose. I’ll keep you all updated with how things go though.

With all of that being said, I got my teeth pulled out. I’m left with eight of my own teeth. Seven weeks ago, after I had them removed I was told that I would have to wait six weeks before even thinking about seeing the dentist who would be doing my denture fitting! Yup, that’s right folks. I’ve spent the last seven weeks without any teeth. The hit on my self image is astonishing but there’s nothing that can be done about it.

I’ve fallen in to a bad bout of depression over this.
I’ve wanted to just climb in a hole and die.

I will never be the same after this. My self image may increase when I get my dentures, but as of right now, I don’t believe anything will.

I finally went to see the dentist on Wednesday who will be fitting me with my dentures. This dentist is located in the heart of the ghetto. I’m scared to death to go down there but it’s my only choice at becoming normal again. When I had arrived I began to have a panic attack. I won a trip to the Marlboro Ranch in Montana – which I’ll be leaving for on July 10th. I was told that I have to have 3-5 appointments before I can get my dentures. Also, they’d have to be once a week. This made me freak out! If I were to take every appointment, on schedule for that exact date, my fifth appointment would fall on the week I left. There was a huge chance I wouldn’t have my dentures before my trip. I wouldn’t have gone.

I finally was seated and the dentist came in. He asked me what I was in for. “A full upper plate and a lower partial.” I said.

“Well, you sure do you know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. I try.” Nervously, I began to ask the questions I was dying to know the answers to. “I was told that we have to have three to five appointments. Well, you see, I won a trip from a sweepstakes, and I was hoping and praying that I have all this taken care before then.”

“Oh absolutely! Let me look at my calendar and see what I can do for you.” He proceeded to run his fingers across the calender page for the month of June. I seen him stop at the 18th and tap his finger on it. “As long as you make all your appointments we can speed up the process and get them for you by the 18th. Does that sound like it would work?”

I nearly had a heart attack! I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to jump up and hug this man. Unfortunately, I’m still highly skeptical.

The dentist proceeded to do my impressions. They added a bunch of this goop in my mouth and placed it in taking a mold of my mouth. They took the bottom one with no problem. He began to do the top one and had an assistant come in to help him out. He placed the upper mold in my mouth. I felt the oozing goop run down the back of my throat. Yuck! He told me that I was on the train to the end. Everything was taken care of now and I was in good hands. He told me that he’d have me set up as soon as possible. He told his assistant that he wanted to put an acceleration on getting these dentures to me right away. He told her that I should come back as soon as possible for the next step.

She asked me, “Do you want to come back Monday of next week, or Friday of this week?”

“Friday of this week. Absolutely! I really can do the next step in two days? What will we be doing during the next appointments?”

“Well, on Friday, your next appointment, we will be giving you a wax mold. It’s going to look like a giant mouth guard that you’d wear while playing sports. The wax set will have your impression. We’re going to melt it down and make sure that it all fits perfectly in your mouth. The wax set is sent out and replaced with a wax set that have teeth. They will look like regular dentures. This will be on your third appointment. During that appointment you’ll be placed with your wax set and we’ll make sure to align everything in the center. We’ll determine how high or low the teeth need to go, make sure everything sits and touches correctly. The fourth appointment your dentures will be ready and it will just be adjusting and fitting from there.”

I thanked her a thousand times over and went to schedule my next appointment. I go back tomorrow. I left there with a huge smile on my face that wouldn’t go away. I am going to get my dentures. They’re finally coming. The light on the end of this long, bumpy, and scary tunnel is getting brighter by the day. Unfortunately, I still don’t know how long this tunnel is. I see the end, but the path is still not lit. I’m skeptical. I’m scared something is going to come up. I’m not getting my hopes too high.

I keep telling myself, “You will have your dentures in two weeks. You will have a smile again. You will have everything taken care of before you trip. You will have time to practice eating and talking and wearing them before your trip.” Now I just have to get myself to believe it. I don’t think that will happen because of the fear of getting my hopes crushed.

The end is near. I’ll keep you all updated on what else happens next!

I’ve had a lot going on. As some of you know, I recently had 10 teeth pulled. This left me with eight teeth left – total. I’m twenty-three years old, with eight teeth on the bottom left. I am devastated. Anytime I think about it I cry. I can’t look at myself in the mirror at all, unless I’m manic and feel the need to overly do my hair and makeup to make myself “feel better” like it’s suddenly going to do some patch job. It’s a ridiculous notion but I am trying to do whatever I can. With that being said, I haven’t been doing much of anything in the past six weeks. I had this done six weeks ago; I was unable to get temporary dentures or anything because they wanted me to heal properly. SO, with that being said, I’ve been walking around – continuing to live my life – looking at what I believe a toothless witch. I’ve been continuously taking pictures at my Daily Booth account. I’ve been told by many loyal friends that I’m insane and they are unable to see it. Maybe I’m being delusional like usual. Either way, this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever dealt with in my life. I have been strong through depression, suicide attempts, emotional abuse, control, physical abuse, neglect, etc and here I am unable to regain my strength to get me through this time. I go on Wednesday to *finally* see the dentist whose going to make my dentures. Remind you, I’ve been without teeth since six weeks ago. Once I finally see this dentist it will take an additional three to five weeks before I am done and with teeth again. I pray it goes fast.

Next thing I’m currently ripping my hair out for dealing with is disability application process. I applied for Social Security Disability Insurance – or whatever … I don’t know the legal terms or the correct terms or the difference between SSDI and SSI. Bare with me while I write about this having very little knowledge about this. I found out I could apply for disability having bipolar disorder. I was completely unaware. So, shortly later, I applied. It’s been a little over three months since I submitted my application. I received a letter last week saying that there wasn’t enough proof/notes from doctors to prove I do in fact have bipolar disorder. So, they had scheduled an appointment through the state for me to attend. This appointment was today. I was required to answer questions regarding my disorder. How it’s affecting my life, my ability to live, my ability to work, my ability to function, etc. Mike was required to come to. They wanted to talk to someone who deals with me on a regular basis and who’s aware of the disorder. I did the best I could give barely 30 minutes to explain everything.

She also gave me a memory test. The test consisted of the following things:

Repeat the following words to me. – I had no problem with these for some reason.

Repeat the numbers back to me. She would say two numbers, then would say three (different) numbers. Continuing on up to five or six – I was only able to do up to five numbers before my memory completely let up.

Repeat the numbers I say backwards. 3,6,9,1,3 = 3,1,9,6,3 … I barely got to three numbers on this. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t believe myself. Normally, I’m so smart. Hell, I’m told all the time I’m extremely brilliant – Here I am completely unable to function or answer simple questions!

Count to ten.

Count to twenty backwards.

Starting at 100, count back to 0 by 3s. – I did AWFUL at this. My mind went completely numb. “Uhm. 100.” I sat there thinking for probably 2 full minutes. I even tried to count on my fingers and my mind just couldn’t pull that information! “97. Uhm, 94.” This is where it gets really bad. “91, 87, 84,81… I have no idea.” *paused for a few minutes* “Yea, I have absolutely no idea. I don’t even know if I’m on the right number. I’m sorry.”

What are some local or world-wide events going on? – Once again, I did absolutely horrible. I couldn’t think of one single thing! I watch the news every single day – goes to show just how much I don’t pay attention to stuff that doesn’t matter to me. How selfish of me. I finally said, “Oh. There’s some huge oil spill going on, but I know nothing more than that. I don’t even know where it is.”

This pretty much ended the memory test. I clearly failed it. I just really hope she doesn’t think I was purposely flunking out on it to seem like “I’m insane.” Whatever though, I don’t know how their judging works. I don’t know how these doctors, or the social security office deciphers and decides who is disabling enough by 30 minutes of information given.

After she talked with me, she called Mike in and sent me out in the waiting room. She essentially asked him a lot of the similar questions she asked me.

- What do you see with Nikkole?
- Does she cook dinner
- How is this affecting your relationship with each other?
- Who does she socialize with?

He answered truthfully and openly. This really impressed me. Mike doesn’t ever talk. He knew how important this was to me though. He told her exactly what he felt needed to be say. Guess what? His answers matched exactly what my answers where. That definitely will help I think.

Now, it’s just a waiting game. I have no idea how many more weeks, or months this is going to take to get an answer. Once I get an answer, I will see what our next spot will be. If the answer is yes, everything will be taken care of. My life will be a lot easier without having so much worry and anxiety when it comes to how is I going to take care of my kids. If they say no, I’m going to have to appeal it. I will possibly have to get an attorney, go have another exam, who knows. I just know that I’m going to fight it until I get it or get told, “No, there is just no way will you get this.”

Hmm, what else has been going on with me? Teeth. Disability. Bipolar.

Nickolas was put on Adderall recently. He was diagnosed with ADD with some hypertension. He was given some medication to help cope with it. Matt is completely unaware that we currently have him medicated. He will never find out either. He’s against it. He’ll fight it. In fact, he’d even go as far as taking me to court to make sure I don’t continue it. Nothing is ever allowed to be wrong with anyone he’s involved with. They must be perfect. Perfection is the only thing allowed. So far, we’ve noticed a bit of a difference; it’s a work in progress.

Needless to say, I’ve been busy and hectic with those two huge dramatic things going on. I’ve been busting my ass lately to just get through every day. It’s been hard. I have to be honest; I’m tired and have lost all train of thought. I don’t know what else I was planning on writing but I’m going to end it at this. If you guys have any questions at all, please feel free to ask. I’ll answer them in a new entry. I kind of want to do a FAQ type entry one day anyways. Until next time…