08
Jul
Jul
Sistah, Wii, Miss A…
Ok, it’s been awhile.
Sistah is being constantly harassed by Mah Boy. Uh, remember, they’re split up!? She has done a good job of avoiding contact. Last week, she and I wrote a “dear Mah Boy” letter, gently stating the obvious that it’s time to move on, that they can’t make things work, and they’ve both been miserable, blah blah blah. He proceeded to call EVERY MINUTE. Then started w/ text messages. First being nice, asking her to come over. Then turned angry, telling her to run away like she always does. I sat there and watched/read his anger shine through. Not cool. As of Friday night, he dropped off her “belongings” which was really nothing but a few movies and $700. Yes, I did say $700. She is moving out this month and he had wanted to move in with her, even though she never asked, so he’s giving her the money to help out like he promised. Puh-lease. Fucking psycho. It’s another ploy to get her to call him/see him. He’s called continuously, texting her. It’s ridiculous. She is going to give it back but is going to arrange to NOT see him to do it. At least she’s doing the rigth thing. But he keeps calling, telling her he loves her. Daily, no, every 4 hours, I remind her that it’s not going to work. He hates everyone, her career, it’s just not gonna work. She is drawn to this guy like a drug. If she talks to him it’s over. She’ll be sucked back in. I keep hearing, “But he’s such a nice guy…” This situation is bringing me A LOT of stress, and I mean a lot. I don’t know how much more I can take of giving her daily feedback, at all hours of the night, the same message over and over. It’s tiring.
Mario Party 8 for the Wii rocks. I beat the game. Bowser can kiss my ass. ‘Nuff said.
Miss A’s birthday bash was yesterday, though her birthday isn’t until the 11th. This year’s theme was The Wizard of Oz. She dressed up as Dorothy and looked soooooooo damn cute. She had a blast and that’s what’s important. I was stressed out, PMS’ing, and did not enjoy myself. It started with the in-laws getting there late and doing their food prep at my house, when they were supposed to be helping me. Then my parents got there late. My Dad sat on his ass and supervised, Lil Bro helped out decorating, and Mom made fruit salad, all the while whining about how sorry she was that she was slow, due to her healing arm. I’ll get back to that. Sistah was late. So all my help was late and pissed me off. I went off, saying how I was sick and tired of people making promises on times that they can’t keep.
It was 90+ F and humid. An outside party. ‘Nuff said there too. Food took 2 hrs to cook-no joke. I don’t know what the fuck E’s Dad was doing but I could have cooked much faster. I’m still crabby about it all. Got to see lots of family, which was nice. Didn’t get to visit with anyone. My mother brought her fucking X-Rays to the party to show off. She broke her arm in October. She had surgery in March. EVERYONE HAS FUCKING SEEN THE X-RAYS AS SHE’S BROUGHT THEM TO THE LAST PARTY. Had I known she was showing them off, I’d have said something. But, I do have a picture of her showing them off to one of my best friends. Priceless. I had to pull teeth to get someone to videotape for me. Lil Bro, who is taking photography and thinks he’s all that, took 630 pictures and I kept 135. Not one picture has E, or myself, other than my head in the picture. I’m upset, to say the least. Miss A liked her gifts. She had fun and that’s what counts.
I opened the mail today and found an insurance form that I need to sign for Dr. M’s (my therapist) office. It confirmed my diagnosis on DSM 4 Axis 1 and 2. I have a GAF score of 54-55 as of March 2007. My previous GAF score was 57 in August 2004. The GAF score should go up, not down. Sure, it’s only a few points, right? And yeah, in 2004 I was only diagnosed as borderline, not bipolar. And yeah, it was before my breakdown. But in three years I went DOWN? What about all of my progress?! And my symptoms are “moderate”? The next up is “severe”? WHAT?! As you can probably guess, this has me upset. I feel a little betrayed by my doctor. No worries, I will confront him on this. Denial-I guess I didn’t think I was this bad. So I read up on the GAF score, and holy shit, I could apply for social security. I am right on the edge and with a few letters I could get disability. I’m upset, shocked. What would be the repercussions of filing with SS? The government would know I’m crazy? Would I ever be able to work again? What about getting insurance in the future? Anyone has insight, I’m all ears.
So yeah, I’m a little, LOT, frustrated. I figure in about an hour I’ll be getting a call from Sistah. The baby bug has bitten me, especially now that a pregnancy friend is now pregnant again. Hoochie Mama isn’t far off. Sigh. E keeps reminding me to exercise, lose weight, then get pregnant. It just upsets me more. It’s not that he thinks I’m ugly, he just wants a better outcome for baby and mom this time around. I understand. But it just sounds so impossible right now.
I’m tired, frustrated, and feeling depression coming on. I hope I can hold it together this week.