don't know where to start

Don't know where to start

I got a comment earlier asking where I've been. It's Tuesday and I haven't posted since Thursday. A lot of crap has happened and this is another time when I don't know where to begin. I guess the easiest way would be to separate it by days. It's also a time when I don't know how much of the story to tell you guys. I think for once I'm going to actually tell you everything.

Friday

My best friend and I hung out again. We went to a mall and watched "Made of Honor" at the movie theater. It was a decent movie, but it wasn't as good as I expected. I can't remember the name of it but I saw a movie poster for a movie coming out soon that appears to be an adventure movie with an entire cast of chihuahuas. I can't wait to see it. I love dogs and I love movies that focus on dogs.

We went out to dinner at Chili's with my husband once he got off work. It was so busy and loud it was hard to think straight. I started having what I assume was withdrawals from the Seroquel. My head felt really weird.

My older brother tried to call me while we were at Chili's, but it was so loud I couldn't answer it. So I called him back after we got home. He was wanting to talk to me about how him and his girlfriend have decided to come back to Oklahoma in June so he can see my grandparents. He wants me to try to take off work so I can go up there with them, but after taking this medical leave, I'm not sure my boss will be willing to really give me much time off in the near future.

My older brother annoys me. He calls me once every three or four months and sends me a card for my birthday and Christmas. That's the extent of our contact. He doesn't bother to call me for months then just expects me to drop everything to see him when he comes to town. Another thing that annoys me is he doesn't tell me anything. If it wasn't for my mom telling me I wouldn't even know he's engaged and planning to get married sometime in the next few months. I don't even know when the wedding date is. I haven't been invited to the ceremony or reception.

Saturday

My husband actually had Saturday and Sunday both off from work, so I decided to go up to my mom and younger brother's house for the weekend. We drove up there Saturday morning. I bought a travel crate to put Oreo in because he just gets too crazy in the car and we didn't want to put up with that this time. Oreo sat in the crate whining for the first half of the trip.

Nothing really exciting happened Saturday. Usually we mostly just sit around talking at my mom's house cause there really isn't anything to do.

Saturday night I started having withdrawals again on top of feeling depressed. I mentioned it to my husband after we went to bed there, and I asked him if he'd be willing to do couple's counseling because I felt like we needed to work on our problems in order to help me through my individual problems. For some reason, he took that as me blaming him for all of our problems. I wasn't blaming him; I was blaming us as a couple.

Sunday/Monday

After the argument Saturday night, my husband and I spent Sunday morning not really speaking to each other. We left my mom's house in the afternoon. I cried for the majority of the drive home. I couldn't stop thinking about the argument and our couple problems. Plus I was thinking I wasn't ready to go back to work Monday. My husband didn't even ask me why I was crying. He barely said anything the entire drive home (3 1/2 hours). I felt like he was just ignoring me.

After we got home, I tried to sit down and talk more about what I mentioned Saturday night. He still felt like I was blaming him for all of my problems. For some reason he felt I was saying that I had given up on individual counseling and my medicine.

A major fight broke out. By "fight" I more mean "battle." We were screaming at each other, and he started packing stuff up. He threw some stuff across the room and kicked a big hole in the wall. He stormed off and took off in his truck.

I then called my mom and told her what was going on. She said she figured we were fighting all the way home by how we were in the morning at her house. I then called my boss and left him a message saying I didn't think I'd be ready to go back to work Monday since this fight happened. My boss didn't call back.

I laid down to go to sleep after a while thinking my husband would not come back. Normally he stays gone for the entire night if we fight and he leaves. He called once and I answered it. All I heard was voices in the background and I hung up. I guess I fell asleep and he tried calling a few more times. I slept through the phone ringing.

A little while later, he suddenly came in the bedroom screaming and really drunk. I didn't hear him come in the house because I was asleep. I guess he had punched a hole in the bedroom door and through a window in the bedroom. I didn't know that until later. He had trashed my office. He pinned me down on the bed and told me he was going to rape me. He didn't do it tho.

We got up and he told me to come with him in the truck and he was going to take me to a hospital to put me into an inpatient facility. I tried to grab my cell phone, but he took it and broke it into a bunch of pieces. I got in the truck with him because I was scared of what he was going to do. We left Oreo out of his crate.

He drove a few streets down and turned. I didn't know the street because we haven't lived in the neighborhood very long and I've never went looking around. He stopped in front of a house. He started saying he wanted me to check myself into an inpatient facility. He said he wouldn't force me into one by checking me in without my consent because his parents had done that to him in the past. I told him I wanted to call my mom and have her and my brother come down and check me in.

We went back to the house, and he gave me his phone to call my mom. I asked her to get in the car with my brother and come down here. It was around 3 in the morning. They did.

My husband then got upset again. He tried to grab Oreo from me, but I fought to hold onto him. He started choking Oreo by grabbing his collar and yanking. I pleaded with him to not take Oreo. Oreo left deep scratches and bruises up and down my arms while trying to fight to stay with me. I let go of Oreo because I was afraid he'd either choke or his neck would get broken. He took him outside and let him go. Oreo took off running. My husband got in the truck and drove off. I had to chase Oreo around the street because he was afraid to come back in the house.

I then ran into the house, got my purse, and grabbed Oreo. I got in the car and drove. I wasn't sure where to go, and I no longer had a cell phone. I drove to my office because I didn't know where else I could go use a phone with no change for a pay phone. I took Oreo up to my floor. I was hoping no one would be there... after all it was the middle of the night. But one of my bosses was there. She called the company's security, and told them what was going on. I called the police and said I was scared to go back to my house for fear he'd come back. The cop said he'd meet me at the house, but first I had to go down and talk to the security guard.

When I got to the house there were two cops. I talked to them, but they said there wasn't much they could do because the property he destroyed in the house was half my husband's, and unless I took Oreo to get looked at by a vet and it showed some damage. They convinced me to go to a hotel for the rest of the night. When I got to the hotel, I called long distance to my mom's cell phone and told her where I was.

Oreo and I then laid down in the hospital and got a little sleep. Every time Oreo heard a noise, he'd wake up and jump, so he really didn't sleep much. My mom and brother showed up at the hotel around 6:30 a.m. They sat in the hotel and I explained things to them. Around 8 a.m. they both called into their workplaces and said they couldn't come in because of a family emergency.

We went to the house. My husband's truck wasn't in the driveway, so we didn't think he was there, but we walked in and he walked out of his office. He had parked in the garage and I didn't know. He had sobered up and was packing his stuff, and he said he'd leave the house so me, my mom, and brother could be there alone. I said he could stay and finish packing up. I took a shower to clean up myself. I had dried blood on my right arm from the scratches Oreo left.

I then told my husband to go into the living room and sit down with the three of us, and we were going to talk. I started by telling him I didn't think I needed to go into a hospital right then because I wasn't suicidal. I said that I might be really depressed, but I could make it through without going into inpatient. We sat there for probably 30 minutes calmly discussing a lot of different things. My mom surprisingly kept her mouth shut most of the time, but she did make the point that things just keep getting worse between my husband and I and there's no guarantee things would get better if we stayed together.

I told my husband that we really needed to go to couple's counseling because our problems as a couple are much worse than he realizes. Frankly, I don't see how he could be so clueless as to our problems. He agreed to couple's counseling and to go back to the doctor to get back on some sort of mood stabilizer since he stopped taking the Lithium and convinced the doctor he didn't need it. I made it clear that if we didn't go to and stick with couple's counseling and if things weren't getting better, I'd automatically quit my job and move up with my mom and brother and then sell the house.

After the long talk, I used my mom's phone to call my boss. He apologized for not calling me back the night before, but he had gotten in really late. I told him more of what happened, and he said I could take Monday and Tuesday off to recover from the fight. I was relieved because I didn't see any way I could have worked Monday night.

We then went to an AT&T store and bought me a new phone since the other one was broke into pieces. Luckily I was past time for a phone upgrade. I don't like this new phone near as much as the old one, but I'll have to deal.

After my mom and brother left, my husband and I sat down to discuss what I didn't feel comfortable discussing in front of an audience. I said I'd give things one more chance, but if it didn't work, it will be over for good if bad things happen again.

Tuesday

I've spent most of today cleaning up my office. It was wrecked. He had even threw my laptop off my desk. Luckily the laptop was okay, but my accessory keypad seems to broken. He broke one of my Coca-Cola cookie jars, which could be replaced, so I'm not horribly upset about it, but he shattered the glass from my senior prom. There's no way that glass will ever be replaced. I'm pretty hurt by that. He also broke a ceramic angel that my best friend gave me once for Valentine's Day in college. It can technically be replaced, but it wouldn't be the same.

My mom, brother, and husband all returned to work today after missing yesterday. I'm going back tomorrow (fingers crossed in hope nothing else happens). I had a coworker/friend send me an email to check on me and another one left me a message on Facebook since I didn't come into work yesterday like I was supposed to. It's nice to know someone misses me at the office.

There's a really gross smell coming from the master bathroom sink. The best way to describe it is it smells like the sweat that forms in your butt crack on a super hot summer day. (Yes, I know, you don't have to tell me how elegantly I describe things LOL).

I guess I'll leave off with the gross butt crack smell. That will leave a lasting impression on my readers :D .

i couldn't resist

I couldn't resist

I wasn't going to post tonight, but my friend left me this hilarious drawing on my Facebook profile, and I just had to share. We did go have a girls' day out today like I said we would. We went to eat lunch at Olive Garden (HIGHLY overpriced if you ask me).

Then we went to TJ Maxx to look for a purse and at some clothes. The purses were near the hats and my friend said she was looking for a hat. I jokingly started putting on hats. I look horrible in hats or so I think anyways. We had been talking about how I need a big purse to hold all the junk I lug around, which includes my digital camera. She had me take out the camera and we took photos of each other in goofy hats. I put on this one that looks like an old lady hat that would be worn to a tea party.

The funniest thing about it was this woman and her daughter (probably 8 years old or so) came up to us. The woman asked if we were on a trip. I guess most people don't go into local stores and take photos in hats, so she assumed we were on vacation and going crazy. The daughter joined in the fun and started putting on hats. Each time she'd ask "how about this one?" After the fourth hat, the mother told her to quit because she was embarrassing her. I thought the girl was being really funny. I wish her mother wouldn't have gotten onto her.

Anyways I put the photos on Facebook, and then my friend got creative and drew this picture of us. It looks like she spent a long time on it. If you've ever tried to draw on it, you know it's difficult, so I can't believe it turned out this good.

Edited to clarify: I'm the one in the orange and green. I figured I should add that or I'd get asked

Frustrated

Frustrated

If you take time to read the comments on my blog, you know that I have two recent commenters who are constantly challenging everything I say. I'm going to make this post and then just ignore them in the future.

I write this blog as therapy. I treat it as if I was writing in a book journal. I include what I feel is necessary at the time. If I leave something out, it's because I didn't feel it was a significant part of the story. If you ever see a hole in my stories, just ask about it. Don't assume you know the truth and post nasty comments.

In my reintroduction post, I left out that I've been diagnosed with borderline by a doctor, and now psychiatrist, and had the diagnosis backed up by a counselor and a psychologist. The post is meant to show how I came to the realization that something more than depression was wrong with me. It in no means is the entire story. I may decide to go back and put in that I have an official diagnosis just to please the morons who read that post and assume they know everything about me.

I've been challenged on my self-diagnosis. Frankly, if I didn't diagnose myself with borderline, I would probably have never found out what was wrong with me. From the time I was 16 to the time I determined I was borderline (about 10 years), every doctor, counselor, psychiatrist, and psychologist I went to only said "depression" and "anxiety" as a diagnosis. I kept telling them something else was wrong, but they wouldn't take time to look at the other problems. I spent 10 years on anti-depressants and a few years on anti-anxiety medicine, but the root of my problems were never treated. I see the book I found about Borderline as a sign from God. He put that book there at that garage sale so I'd see it and take it home and see what was really wrong with me. Yes, I wear Borderline like a badge because I spent so many years just thinking I was crazy. Getting the diagnosis was a relief. It gave my problems a name. It gave it a face. With a name and a face, I could fight my problems. Borderline is a big determining factor in who I am as a person. If you don't like me saying that, too bad. It's true. At least I realize I have problems and am not in denial. Many people with Borderline (or any other mental illness for that matter) are not aware of their own problems and are in denial that they have problems. I'm facing them head on.

On the thyroid issue, I'm going to say this again.... My thyroid has been checked at least 8 times since I was first diagnosed with depression when I was 16. This last time is the only time it's came back abnormal. It has only been 7-8 months since the last time it was tested and came back normal. So in other words, my thyroid has only been messed up for 7 months at the most. I've been fighting depression since I was 12 (officially since I was 16 since that's when it was diagnosed). I don't deny that my thyroid may be partially to cause for the recent spike in my depression, but it just doesn't add up that it's a long-term cause of it. I'm not offended if someone says that my thyroid is an issue; I'm not insulted. Oh and yes, I brought it up with the psychiatrist. Why would I leave that part out? The psychiatrist has a brain and could see that 7 months does not equal 10 years, so he said it was good that I was on medicine for it now and moved on.

On the psychiatrist... He can agree with my diagnosis and still be an ass. He just dismissed what I said about Xanax's side effects. He gave me attitude when I said my husband didn't go to college. He gave me attitude when I said we hadn't tried other methods to getting pregnant. He asked when the last time my husband and I had sex when it wasn't needed information. He treated me like I was less than a human being. Just because I don't have a medical degree, it doesn't mean I am not an intelligent person who deserves to be treated with respect. Going to a psychiatrist isn't going to help me in anyway if I can't trust and respect him.

I don't want sympathy from the people reading my blog. Frankly I wouldn't care too much if no one read it because it would still be therapy for me. Yes, I like when people read it and give me constructive advice, but I don't feed on the sympathy I get. Like I said, I'd write the exact same way if I was writing in a book journal.

If you don't like my blog, quit reading it. As far as I know there's no one being chained to their computer desk being forced to read my blog. If you like it, read it. If you don't, spend your time reading someone's blog you enjoy and leave me be.

okay day

An okay day

I had a decent day. It took a lot of energy to get over the shrink visit from yesterday, but somehow I was able to do it (maybe it was the Effexor's help).

I realized I forgot to say one other thing that pissed me off from the appointment. The psychiatrist asked how I met my husband, and I, of course, said on the Internet on a dating site. He quickly asked, "Could you not find someone at college?" I said that I had other relationships, but none of them worked out. He then asked if my husband went to college, and I said no. He gave me this asshole "ugh." Frankly, I don't see what the issue is. There's a lot of successful people who didn't go to college. My mom didn't finish college, and my younger brother didn't go to college, so that's the 3 most important people in my life who didn't go to college. The shrink can kiss my college-educated ass :D

Now that I got that off my chest, I'll explain why I had a decent day.

We didn't get up until after noon, and my husband had to be at work at 4 p.m. Before he went to work, I mowed both the front and back yards. He complained the other day because I wasn't cleaning and doing general housework, so I volunteered to mow when he said it needed to be done.

Mowing isn't an easy task for someone with allergies. Actually my allergy problems began before I even started mowing. My husband and I went out into the front yard, and I said, "I'm shocked this bush doesn't make my allergies go crazy." I got closer to it right after I said that and suddenly I sneezed. My husband laughed so hard. He made fun of me for saying it doesn't make my allergies go crazy just as it made them go crazy. I think the plant is called a honeysuckle, but I'm not sure. I don't know my plants.

While I was mowing, I kept sneezing cause of all the grass and dust that was being kicked up. My nose started running right after I was done and it was really dirty snot. (Ok, sorry it's graphic and gross).

My husband got worried because for some reason he looked in the water meter hole and it was full of water. I figured it was just standing water from the last rain, but he was worried, so I called the emergency line for the city water department. They sent someone out and of course it was just rain water. I wonder if they charge us for sending someone out. God, I hope not.

After he went to work, I did three shopping assignments, two of which were gaming stores. I bought my younger brother two games, one baseball and the other "Sonic the Hedgehog Tennis." The Sonic game was a really weird choice, but I looked at it and wanted to play it so I got it. I was thinking more about myself than my brother in buying it, but I'm sure he'll be happy. The guy working in the second store was trying to flirt with me. I wasn't wearing my wedding ring (since I gained weight, it is too tight), so I guess that was an invitation to flirt.

I then went to Wal-Mart and got a few things we needed. I went on a hunt for a purse because I'm sick of the one I have, but I couldn't find one. I'm REALLY picky when it comes to purses, but I won't spend over $20. I'm weird like that.

I made soft tacos for dinner, and I went ahead and made taco salad for tomorrow. Two meals at once. GO ME! I made tomorrow's dinner because I'm supposed to go out with my best friend tomorrow and doubt I'll feel like making food when I get home.

I also cleaned out my car today, which I never do. I just let the trash pile up in the back seat until it grosses me out. I had a whole kitchen-size trash bag full of crap from the back seat. (Since starting this blog, I've really discovered how many gross habits I have).

After dinner I took out the trash and moved the trash cans to the curb IN THE POURING RAIN. I was soaked.

I feel pretty proud of myself for getting that much done. I don't think my husband can complain today about me not doing enough around the house.

Best friend

I told my best friend last night about the suicidal behavior from last week and how I went to a psychiatrist and he is messing with my medicine. I hadn't talked to her much lately. She said she didn't know what to say to me. I don't think I'd know what I'd say to me if I was her.

Like I said, we're supposed to go out shopping tomorrow. I'm going on a purse hunt, and she wants to look at clothes.

Her grandmother had an "episode" the other day. The doctors thought she had a stroke, but it turned out she didn't. After getting released from the hospital, she fell and broke her wrist or a bone in her hand or something else. All I know is she broke something.

I told my friend about my grandmother, and she said it sounds like my grandmother and her grandmother are "two peas in a pod." I guess that means they're very similar ?

oh, where to begin...

Oh, where to begin...

So I met with the psychiatrist today. Let me start by saying he was a complete jackass, and he's foreign and I kept having to have him repeat himself because I could not understand him.

When I first got in there, he asked why I was there. I said that I have been depressed for over 10 years, have anxiety problems, and suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. I said that I'm Seroquel which is making me gain weight and I need to be on some other medicine that doesn't make me gain weight that actually makes me less depressed.

After everything was said and done what did he tell me? I needed to be taken off Seroquel and put on another medicine that doesn't make me gain weight and makes me less depressed. Did I really need to pay him over $200 to hear him repeat exactly what I told him?

He asked me all the usual questions about my history with depression, about the self-harm, about my past suicide attempts (surprisingly he didn't ask if I was currently suicidal, which personally I think is really messed up), about my family's history with depression, etc.

He had me talk about all the medications I've been on. I guess I was supposed to keep a record of exactly when I was on specific medicines with specific dosages. How am I supposed to remember how much Zoloft I was on when I was 16? That was 10 years ago!

He asked about all the medications my family has been on. I'm sorry, but I don't go around asking my relatives what anti-depressants they're on. Yes, I know a lot of them take anti-depressants, but it's none of my business if they're on Effexor or Zoloft or anything else. I mean I understand why he asked because I know if something works for my mom, it may work for me because of a similar genetic makeup, but still it's none of my business.

One thing I thought was really fucked up was when he asked how long I was married, he automatically asked "So you decided not to have kids?" Does every couple have to have kids right after they're married? I know tons of couples who are married a lot longer than 4 years when they decide to have kids. Anyways, I had to explain to him that we had been trying to get pregnant for the last 4 years, but my husband has a low sperm count so it just hasn't happened yet. Then he asked, "well why haven't you tried other methods?" Frankly, what did that have to do with why I was there? I should have just shut him up by saying we decided to get a dog instead of trying expensive methods of getting pregnant.

Then he went through the depression/anxiety questionnaire that I had to fill out. One question he asked flat out was about my disinterest in sex. He asked how long it had been since we had sex and if it was due to my lack of interest, his lack of interest, or both. I guess he automatically assumed if my husband had a low sperm count that he doesn't have much interest in sex. I don't have a problem discussing sex with most people, but a middle-aged foreign man that I can barely understand isn't really someone I want to discuss that with. I think just asking if I had a low sex drive would have been enough.

He asked about my Borderline diagnosis. Then asked which of the symptoms I had, which I told him. He agreed with the diagnosis.

He decided to take me off Seroquel. He put me on Effexor, which I've been on before and it worked so-so. He told me to cut my Lexapro in half, and he added Xanax, which I've also been on before and it worked really good. I have to go back in two weeks from now and he's going to add Topamax at that time. Another thing that really bothered me was when we were discussing Xanax. I told him when I was on it, it gave me severe constipation, and he quickly said, "Xanax doesn't do that." I'm sorry, but I think I know my body better than some medical book. We'll see how things go this time around with the Xanax.

Concerning the Seroquel... he told me just to quit it cold turkey. WTF? Everyone I've heard from that has taken it has said that it was hell coming off of. Shouldn't I be tapering off it? My normal doctor would be tapering me off it. I'm not going to risk the withdrawals. I'm going to go ahead and taper off it.

He said he wanted to put me in an inpatient facility for 2-3 weeks to get my medicine right. I said no flat out. If my normal doctor had said that, I might have considered it, but I don't like this guy. I'm not going to let him lock me up, especially when the paperwork for my job says that I have to go back Monday or my job could be terminated.

I asked him if he could fill out the paperwork for my job. He said one of his staff members would fill it out and he'd sign it, then the staff would mail it. So I won't have any idea what is written on the form. I just had to drop it off with the receptionist. It bothers me that I won't have any idea what they write on it. It also bothers me that they charged me $20 just to fill it out. What the hell? I should have had my normal doctor do it. He would have done it for free.

My husband took copies of the paperwork with him to his anger management group tonight and showed the doctor who teaches the group. (Is that what you call it? Teaches? Maybe it's better to say he "leads" the group. Anyways, that doesn't matter.) He told my husband that the laws have changed here in Oklahoma concerning sick leave. Apparently anytime you take off anymore, you have to give them specific medical reasons, so my mental health is not really protected now. I told my husband to ask the doctor next week for a recommendation for a psychiatrist. Maybe I can find one I can actually understand when he/she talks.

Speaking of my husband... We slept in different rooms last night and will probably for all the nights in the foreseeable future. I have severe issues sleeping on our bed anymore. I can't get comfortable, so I lose a lot of sleep. I already have enough trouble sleeping, I don't need anything to add to it. So I'm sleeping on the futon in my office. Yeah, so futons suck, but I find it more comfortable than our bed. Maybe after I get off the Seroquel, I'll be back to normal sleeping habits. Ever since I got increased to 300 mg of Seroquel, I haven't been able to sleep right.

I got an email today from someone at Shades of Grey thanking me for joining the website. The person made a point I hadn't thought about. She/he said maybe I could get Oreo certified as an assistance dog for my anxiety and take him to work with me. I love that idea, but I'm not sure Oreo is smart enough or calm enough to be an assistance dog. He's hyper all the time, so I doubt he could sit there through eight hours of work, plus a couple of my coworkers are allergic to dogs, so that would be an issue. Anyways it was a nice thought. (BTW I did get my BPD awareness bracelet from Shades of Grey the other day. I can't remember if I posted that I got it.)

Now onto less pleasant things (I know, less pleasant than my bitching about the psychiatrist?)... I keep getting emails and comments from people who read 1-3 blog entries and think they know me. I know by having this blog I open myself up to criticism, and I can accept it, but people really need to get their facts straight before they decide to criticize my life. Someone recently posted a comment saying I was crazy for thinking I could sue my company when I've just been self-diagnosed with Borderline, and then the person posted an entry in their own blog going off about people who self-diagnose themselves with stuff. I guess since they only probably read the "Reintroducing myself" post and one or two more that they haven't read that I got diagnosed by a doctor and that diagnosis was backed up by a counselor and a psychologist. Anyways, I got my diagnosis today from the psychiatrist, so that doesn't matter anymore. I just think that people should read alot more of my blog before they make assumptions. I don't go onto their blogs, read two entries, then preach to them what they should or shouldn't do.

I also had someone assume since my thyroid test came back with a problem that my thyroid must be causing my depression. I was diagnosed with severe depression when I was 16, which was 10 years ago. My thyroid has been tested at least 8 times in those 10 years, and this is the first test that came back bad. Somehow it just doesn't add up that my thyroid is causing my depression.

For some reason I guess people come onto here and read the "Reintroducing myself" post and think they know me. That post is to introduce my issues. It in no means describes my entire life. If that's the only post you read, you're missing a lot of facts.

Ok, so that was a massively long post. If anyone makes it clear to the end I'll be shocked. :D

damn paperwork

Damn paperwork

I don't know which issue to start with first, so I'll just start with what happened first. Last night on top of all my other problems, my husband gave me a guilt trip about not cleaning the house. I don't know if it was intended to be a guilt trip or merely a comment about how he felt he is the one that's always cleaning. In my current state, I can barely get myself off the couch, let alone clean. I ended up feeling like complete shit because I am not doing "my part" to keep the house clean. I didn't even see that it was really dirty enough to worry about cleaning it, but he's a neat freak a lot of the time.

Onto today's issue, I opened the paperwork that the HR chick sent me. I really wish I hadn't opened it, but eventually I had to. On the sheets that the doctor or psychiatrist has to fill out it asks for specific "medical reasons" that I can not work. I really feel like that violates my privacy. It would be different if I was in a car accident and I was physically hurt, but we're talking about my mental health. Is that really something I want written down on paper to go into my permanent file at work? Do I not have rights when it comes to privacy about my mental health?

I did get an early appointment with the psychiatrist. It's tomorrow at 4 p.m. I'm going to take the paperwork to the appointment and see what the psychiatrist says about it. If I have to, I'll get a lawyer to represent me.

The paperwork also says that if I don't return to my job on the 19th (the day I originally said I'd return), they can terminate my job. What if I decide I'm not ready to go back to work next Monday? I guess I'm out of a job.

weekend

No calls today

The good thing about it being Saturday is that I don't have to worry about the HR chick or doctors' offices calling and disrupting my day today. I should get the paperwork from the company in the mail today. I've decided to just set it somewhere and not open it until Monday. There's no real sense in worrying about it until Monday cuz there's nothing I can do about it this weekend.

Shiv and Michelle suggested on my last post that I file a complaint against the HR chick. Right now I'm struggling to get through day to day, but filing a complaint is definitely on my mind.

Those of you who are relatively new to my blog may not have read anything about my husband's family. Short review of the situation... Last summer my husband and his parents had a major falling out and he cut off contact with them. So far the only contact he had to make with them since last summer was back in January when he wanted to get the rest of his stuff out of their house. Anyways, my husband's sister's husband is a lawyer here in the city. He has a lawfirm with two other guys. My husband suggested we contact the brother-in-law's law partner to discuss my case against the company. This is pretty big of my husband since he hasn't wanted to have even indirect contact with his family.

I have thought about taking legal action against the company for a while. I remember not too long ago an employee sued Starbucks and won on the basis that he/she was bipolar and was treated unfairly. I would think I'd have some sort of legal standing against them based on the fact that I begged to get a less stressful job on the fear that I'd have a mental breakdown. It may be the first ever lawsuit based on Borderline. I am hesitating in calling the lawyer though because I have no idea how we'd pay him, and also it's a scary thought going up against such a powerful company.

still upset

Still upset

It's almost 10:30 p.m., and I'm still really upset about what the HR chick said to me. She flat out said, "Unless a doctor is saying you have to stay home, I don't see any reason for you not to work next week." Maybe I should have said, "Sure I'll work, but it will be on you if I kill myself in the restroom." If I had the guts I would have said that. Where does she get off just dismissing my mental health?

Where does anyone get off dismissing my mental health? This wouldn't be happening if my boss would have just let me switch departments months ago when I asked. I begged him to let me switch to a less stressful position. I even said I was going to end up having a complete mental breakdown if things didn't change. He didn't want to give up a good employee, but ... Tada ... COMPLETE MENTAL BREAKDOWN. It took longer than I expected for it to happen, but it happened. So now I'm curled up in a ball crying most of the day and for what? To make my boss happy the last two years when I kept having anxiety attacks in the restroom, when I was coming home wanting to die?

I keep telling myself that if I cut myself or worse, I'm not just hurting myself. I'm hurting my husband, Oreo, my mom, my brother, and everyone I love. Having Oreo around really helps out. I'm never alone. He's always there watching over me.

Maybe I should move my laptop out into the living room for a while. I can't quit staring at the scissors that's on my desk. Then I look at my scars. I've cut myself once since I was 22; I cut once a while back when I had a relapse. I've worked so hard to recover from self-harm, but it's all I can think about now. It's all I've thought about since I got off the phone with the HR chick. Everyone keeps telling me "It's just a job. It's just a job." over and over again. Is it worth hurting myself, or killing myself, over a job? Probably not, but it's in my head. She made me feel like I was this big burden to the company, like my mental health meant nothing. Damn, here come the tears again.

I took my mind off of things for a little bit earlier. I actually forced myself to make dinner... chicken alfredo. I made it basically from scratch. Then I convinced my husband to let me go out for ice cream, on P.J.'s suggestion. We drove instead of walked though because the nearest ice cream place is several miles away, and I'd be dying if I even walked five blocks. We took Oreo with us to get ice cream. We hardly ever take him in the car anymore. Of course, we're hardly ever off work at the same time to take him on a drive.

Ugh!!! I'm so sick of crying!!! At least I'm letting it out, I guess. I'm not having to do what I do at work and go into the restroom and cry for a few minutes, then clean my face, and go back out and pretend like nothing's wrong.

Things weren't like this at my last job. I had problems, but I never wanted to kill myself over them. My bosses were so understanding of bad situations. They let me take time off at the drop of a hat if I needed to. I never felt guilty for calling in sick. If I was sick, they always figured something out and never complained. Now I feel like I can't even call in sick ever. I go to work when I feel like shit, which just makes things worse. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret leaving my last job. It's been two years and a few weeks since I switched jobs. I regretted my decision from day one, but we needed the extra money. I gave up my sanity for a measly $7,000 more a year. What was I thinking? I knew that it was a bad idea at the time. I was so desperate for money that I gave up my mental health. Sure, as everyone will probably say, I couldn't really see a mental breakdown coming, but I knew something bad would happen if I took the job, but I did anyways.

I've spent two years basically living a lie. I always just pretended nothing was wrong. I put on an act at work and pretended to be in control when I wasn't even slightly in control. When no one was looking I'd sit at my desk pulling my hair or pinching myself to harm myself. It was much more subtle and safer than cutting. I'd get up and go to the restroom constantly. I've hit the wall in there when my anger was flaring. I'd cry or have an anxiety attack. I hid it so well that I'm sure most people have had no idea anything was wrong.

I used to be known as an "expert" in the department. I was so fast and so good at layout. Most people wouldn't say that about me anymore. My work abilities have slid farther and farther down as my mental health started getting worse and worse.

I guess what I'm getting at is that I just can't do it anymore. I can't pretend like I have it together when I'm falling apart. I don't have the strength to pretend anymore. I'm dying inside, I've been dying for two years. I probably waited way too long to get help. Well that's not true, I've been going to the doctor for over a year now trying to get on the right medicine, but nothing's worked.

I'm so sick of feeling like this. I feel like I'm dwelling on the pain. I feel like I'm just sitting around letting myself hurt. I don't feel like I'm doing enough to put a stop to the pain.

bad again

Back to bad

I guess when I said I was taking a break from blogging I didn't really mean it. I really figured I wouldn't be able to get myself to blog, but I surprisingly have been able to write some.

Today I was doing half way decent. The psychiatrist's office called right before noon and said they had an opening for the 14th. Of course, I was still in bed, but I called not long after I got up. I guess the office closes at noon, so I won't be able to talk to them until Monday. I hope it wasn't filled today. Surprisingly that didn't bother me that much. I was able to tell myself that if I could get in earlier than the 27th it was good, if not, I could live.

The doctor's office finally got a hold of me. I guess my thyroid is actually high, not low. I don't know the difference. Still that didn't faze me much.

But then I got a call from the human resources department from work. The call made me feel way worse than I was feeling before the call. The chick was a bitch to me. She asked me if my doctor told me not to work for a while, and when I said no, she actually said, "Well if you don't have a doctor telling you that you can't work, I don't see why you aren't working." Apparently my mental health means nothing to the company. My boss had told me that I shouldn't worry about the office, that it was okay, and that I should just focus on getting better. He told me I could take as long as I needed. Well according to the HR woman, she had been left a note that it WASN'T okay that I take the time off. She said that unless I had a doctor tell me to take off from work, I should be at work next week. She said she was mailing me out paperwork for my doctor to fill out, meaning that I have to get my doctor to say I can't work, or else she said I could lose my job. Just what I need when I'm on the edge of suicide. Just tell me I could lose my job because I feel like I can't work. Yeah, that's what I need right now.

After her call, I wanted to call my husband and ask him to come home because I got suicidal yet again because I have to freak out about my job now. But I can't ask him to come home whenever I'm having problems. He gets paid by the hour, so if he leaves early, we lose money. So here I sit wanting to slice open my wrist with the scissors that's sitting in my desk organizer. I just keep telling myself that it's just a job, that my mental health is more important than any job, but I am still really struggling. I wish I just hadn't answered the phone with the chick called. From now on, I'm only answering if it's my husband or mom. Anyone else can leave a message and I'll choose whether to call them back or not.

significant update

Significant update

Well I don't really feel up to writing, but I'm going to force myself because I found out something tonight that may be pretty significant.

The other day when I went to the doctor, they did a blood test to check my thyroid. I don't even think I mentioned it the other day because I've had it checked several times before and it's always been normal.

This morning before I got up out of bed, the doctor's office called and left a message saying they had my test results. So I called back but the nurses wouldn't answer their phones, so I left a message for them to call me again. They never called again.

I went to Walgreens to pick up my prescriptions that were called in the other day. Yep, I actually had to pay for medicine this time. No free samples, which sucked. Anyways, there was a medicine I didn't recognize. I asked the pharmacy tech what it was and she said a steroid. I said I didn't know anything about it, but then I looked at the paperwork. Right there in black and white. "FOR LOW THYROID." What a way to find out you have a health problem.

So I have a low thyroid, now what? I take the medicine and it fixes it? I have no idea what it entails because the doctor's nurse never called.

I looked up low thyroid on the internet, and the symptoms range from depression to low libido to mood swings to weight gain. That may explain alot. I wonder if that's what's causing the low libido and not the medicine. Or maybe it's a combination of both. I'm sure the weight gain is in part due to the thyroid problems.

Other developments

I also got a call from the psychiatrist's office today. The secretary was calling me to tell me I would owe $230-something upfront for my deductible, plus 20% of the total cost. I asked if I could pay half upfront and the other half later, and she said no. That's quite a bit of money to fork out for one appointment that I'm already scared of. She put me on a waiting list for a sooner appointment. I'm trying to decide if I should just stick with the May 27 appointment or try to find someone else that can fit me in sooner. I might just keep the May 27th appointment, and try to get an appointment with a normal counselor for next week. I'm not sure counseling will do me any good, but I don't really have much to lose right now.

My boss called me today to warn me that the human resources department would probably be calling me to discuss my "options" when it comes to medical leave. He also had to ask how I wanted him to do my time card (vacation time vs. sick leave). It was weird to have him call me out of the blue like that. When he asked how I was doing, I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say "well I feel like shit," but I just stuck with "ok, I guess." I didn't figure he really wanted to know.

When I was out getting my medicine, I stopped by a Dollar Tree and bought my mom a small Mother's Day gift. I'm sure I look like hell because I haven't slept and haven't been taking care of my appearance, but I wanted to get her something. I should have mailed it today, but I didn't. I'll go mail it and a card to my grandmother tomorrow. I hope they get them Saturday so it's in time for Mother's Day. Normally my mom gets stuff the next day, but I have no idea about the card to my grandmother. I'd think mailing something to another state would take more than one day.

I felt slightly better today than yesterday, but I still feel completely out of control. I can't remember the last time I felt this out of control. I'm sure the last time was sometime when I was a teenager or in college. Yesterday I felt like I was on the verge of an anxiety attack all day. My heart felt like it was on the edge of an attack. Today I only felt like that part of the time.

My husband had a horrible day at work, which added to my stress today. I know he is trying to shield me from the stress, but it's hard to hide when you're that stressed out.

I gave my dog a bath tonight mainly just to have something to do, plus he was stinky. He wasn't too happy about it. Earlier in the day, I put a price tag from my mom's gift on his head, and he walked around with it there until I finally took it off. It gave me a little laugh. My mom's dog would have figured out it was there right away and figured out how to take it off. Not Oreo, he never figured out it was on his head.

I got stressed out watching the TV this evening. The news has a way of doing that to me. There was something about a man that the police were chasing. It sometimes worries me that the man will come here. That's one of those things I do at work. I freak out about everything. Anyways, to avoid the news for a while, I watched Juno. My husband started watching it with me but he fell asleep on the couch and started snoring really loudly. Juno wasn't too bad, but I don't think it was as good as everyone said.

Well I wrote more than I figured I would. That pretty much tapped me out. Thank you all for your kind words and support. I'll try to keep you guys posted.

breaking a promise

Dear friends and random readers,

I don't know how or where to start this blog entry. I'm breaking a promise I made to you guys. I said that I wouldn't take a break from blogging, but overnight something happened to make me change my mind.

Overnight I went from a high-functioning borderline with semi-controllable depression to a low-functioning suicidal borderline with uncontrollable depression. If it wasn't for my husband and Oreo I'm sure I would have killed myself last night. I had a complete breakdown. I'm not going to give the specifics of what set me off last night due to the fact that there's several people I know in real life that read this blog. If you want to know what happened, send me an e-mail to bpdokc@yahoo.com.

I called my boss this afternoon and told him I needed to take the rest of this week and next week off to work on my mental health. I then called my doctor to speed up the referral to a psychiatrist. They called back and said they got me an appointment for May 27th, which isn't as soon as I had hoped, so I will probably go on a search for someone I can get into sooner.

During the next week and a half, I'll probably still write occasionally but not near as much as I have been. I need to take time out and focus on getting through this suicidal cycle. I've disabled the comment moderation, so if you leave a comment it will show up immediately and I won't have to approve them.

I knew this breakdown was going to happen sometime. I just wasn't sure when. It all started quite a while back when the stress of my job started getting to me. I asked to be switched to another department that was less stressful, but my boss denied the job change because I'm a good employee and he didn't want to lose me. So ever since I've been having to deal with the day-to-day shit that comes along with being a journalist. Every day I deal with stories about murders, suicides, child abuse, spousal abuse, fatal car accidents, rape and sexual abuse. That stuff really takes a toll on a depressed person's mind. As a borderline, I am very sensitive to other people's pain so I get lost in the hurting of the stories' victims.

Then there's been the stress of my grandparents' failing health. Plus, my mother has been really struggling through the last month due to their health problems. I don't know what to say to help my mom, and every time I talk to her, she tells me how upset she is, which just adds more weight to my shoulders.

Next there are the constant money problems. There's much more involved with maintaining a house than I realized. My husband is constantly complaining because there's a lot of stuff we need to do, but there just isn't the money for it. We going farther and farther into debt, and there's not alot I can do about it.

My husband and I have been struggling to deal day to day with my depression. I keep hurting him by pulling away from him, emotionally and physically. I can't be there for him through his problems when I can't even deal with my own. Plus I'm dealing with a large amount of guilt that keeps eating away at me.

My weight and overall health are causing concern for everyone around me. There's constant stress on me to lose weight or at least stop gaining. Until I get on a different medicine, I don't see a way to stop gaining. The Seroquel is causing me to eat and eat, and then I eat some more because of how depressed I am. Plus, the stress at work leads me to eat too much also. I seem to be either sleeping or eating all the time. If I'm awake, I'm eating.

I haven't been sleeping well at all. I've had weeks of restless nights. I've been trying to take Ambien to help me sleep, but I don't know if it's doing anything at all. I lie in bed every night staring at the clock just wishing I'd fall asleep or even die just so I could get done with this depression.

I've been struggling with the desire to start cutting again. I had it pretty much under control for a long time, but the more depressed I am the more cutting seems like a good option for stress control. Some days I just stare at my wrist wanting to cut it. I haven't cut yet, but if something doesn't change soon I know I will.

I guess that's where I'll stop for now. Like I said I'll probably post occasionally during the next week and a half, but I have no idea how often. I think I just need a break from the world, from the stress, from the people that are causing stress. Please pray for me.

I was wrong

I was wrong

Well I shouldn't have even thought that yesterday was a sign that maybe my depressive cycle was over.

I woke up today feeling sick to my stomach, period-related I'm sure. We got up at 7 a.m. so we could go to the doctor. We had back-to-back appointments, so they just took us back together.

The doctor decided to just leave my husband on Effexor alone, and forget the Lithium since he hadn't been showing signs of mania. He really tried to get my husband convinced to quit smoking or at least slow down. There's really no telling my husband that.

Between being really tired and sick, I guess I was looking really bad. The doctor told me it was the most depressed looking that he's ever seen me. He decided to keep me on the same medications for the time being, but refer me to a psychiatrist.

He spent quite some time talking about my weight, as usual. I just don't get why he thinks I can magically find the ability to lose weight while on Seroquel. The damn drug is making me hungry 24/7.

After the doctor's appointment, we slept for a while. I finally got up at 2:45 p.m. or so since I had to go to work. I had to rush getting ready, and I barely made it there on time.

I had a bad time at work tonight. I had another run-in with the bitch at the office. I still don't get it. I can get along with basically anyone and everyone. I work in a company of well over 1,000 employees, and there's ONE person I can't get along with. Just one. There's tons of other people who can't stand her, so I really don't think it's anything I've done. I think plain and simple that she's a bitch. I don't think she can handle when anyone else is better or as good as she is, so she tries to make us look bad. She's either jealous of other women or at least was never taught to play nice. I have a feeling that in high school she got picked on by the popular girls and she decided then and there that she hated other women. Well that's ok, we hate her too.

Meme

Meme

Fighting the Urge got tagged with this meme. She didn't tag anyone, but I've never done this one, so I'm tagging myself.

5 Things Found In Your Bag

1. My cell phone. It was in perfect shape for the first two years I had it, but Oreo threw it across the room and broke it several months ago. I'm still too lazy to go get a new one.
2. Tweezers. You never know when you're going to need to pluck a hair.
   
3. Tons of crumbled up receipts. I never take the time to write them down and they all just collect at the bottom of my purse.
   
4. About 20 small Winnie the Pooh characters. They were on my desk at work for a long time until a few months ago when I put them in my purse to bring them home, but I have been too lazy to take them out.
5. My wallet with tons of cards. I have several credit cards, two debit cards, store cards (like Best buy, Homeland Grocery, CVS, Blockbuster, Office Depot, etc). I can't ever find the one I need when I need it.

5 Favorite Things In Your Room

1. Anna, my bodyform. She keeps me company while I sit on my computer all the time.
   
2. Tons of books I've never read and probably will never read.
   
3. An excessive amount of painted red shelves with heart cut-outs with Coca-cola merchandise on them.
   
4. A near obsessive amount of Christmas ornaments of all types (Winnie the Pooh, Victorian furniture, My little pony, Care bears, coca-cola, Homer Simpson, Elmo, Hello Kitty, The Dog, etc)
   
5. Small Coca-Cola Christmas tree that stays up 365 days a year.
   

5 Things You Have Always Wanted To Do

1. Have a baby
   
2. Travel out of the U.S.
   
3. Become rich
   
4. Be on TV (of course if I actually had the chance, I'd probably be too chicken)
   
5. Be a super model
   

5 Things You Are Currently Into

1. This blog
   
2. Drinking lots of Milk
3. Playing with the Green Patch application on Facebook
4. Sleeping ALOT
   
5. Playing with the dog

Productive day

Productive day

So I've been quiet today haven't I? It's 11 p.m. here and this is the first time I've sat down to make a post.

Yesterday I was in the BPD chat talking to a woman who asked me about my job. Then she said something that caught me off-guard. She asked, "So you're a highfunctioning borderline?" Me highfunctioning? I guess maybe I am compared to alot of other borderlines. Yes, I have a full-time job that supports my husband and I. I guess you can say I have a successful career. But there are a lot of days when I hardly function at all. I always seem to make it to work though, which I guess leaves me in a highfunctioning category.

Today has been the best day I've had in quite some time. I was truly highfunctioning today. I did 10 mystery shopping assignments, I went to the grocery store, I took trash out (which I never do), I did dishes (which I almost never do), and actually cooked dinner for my husband and I. I haven't cooked dinner in months. I haven't had the desire or energy to cook for a long time. I made a Mexican rice Chicken Helper, nothing fancy, but I did jazz it up with tortillas, salsa and cheese. My husband was shocked that I did so much today. Frankly I'm shocked too. I didn't even mind too bad that my period started today (yeah I know, too much information).

Maybe how today went is a sign that I'm done cycling through depression. I guess only time will tell. My husband and I both have doctors appointments in the morning, so I have to figure out what to tell him about how depressed I've been. I am hoping he'll switch my medications again. I don't think the Seroquel/Lexapro mix is doing anything good, well except controlling my mood swings.

Weird dream

I haven't been sleeping well. I've said that a lot lately. Well one thing that isn't helping is I keep having weird dreams. I'd rather have them than the nightmares, but the weird dreams still wake me up in the middle of the night and make me lose out on sleep.

Saturday night I had a really weird dream that I thought I'd share, maybe to give someone a laugh...

In the dream, it was my job to supply the world with M&Ms. (Yeah, that's just the start of the weirdness). In order to do this I had to go hunting for the M&M guys, you know the characters from all the commercials. They were about half my size. Whenever I found one I had to hit it over the head, killing it, and shattering it into tiny pieces. Those pieces would automatically form normal size M&Ms. I then had to take those M&Ms and "mate" them together to make baby M&Ms, or rather the miniature M&Ms.

That was the gist of the dream, and it lasted for hours. I just kept chasing down the big M&M characters and killing them to make normal M&Ms. I have no idea where this dream came from or why I had it. I can't remember seeing a commercial for a while, and I definitely haven't eaten any M&Ms, so it just doesn't make sense to me at all.

Update on grandmother

My grandmother is supposedly doing a little better now that she's in the nursing home. She's being able to get up and down out of chairs a little bit better. She fell for a second time on Saturday I guess though. Surprisingly my grandfather is still staying with her. He's stayed with her every night she's been in there, despite how he kept arguing that he was never going into a nursing home himself.

better day

Better day

Today has been an okay day for once. We set the alarm for 10 a.m. so we could get up and take Oreo to the dog park. Well the alarm went off but we fell back asleep until noon. So we didn't end up taking him to the park, but we grilled steaks for lunch. And I tried to stay off my computer for a while. I've decided that when I'm home I'm pretty much on the computer or asleep, so that's probably the main reason my husband doesn't feel loved.

Work was easy, as most Sundays are. I was an editor tonight instead of a designer, which doesn't happen much. I'm not that good at editing. I'm much more of a design person than editor. I have the worst trouble writing headlines. I can miss a glaring error, but catch any misused comma. I've been called the "comma Nazi" before. I am obsessed with fixing comma usage. Except when it comes to this blog. I don't put that much thought into my comma usage here.

Seeking public opinion

Seeking public opinion

When I'm bored and have nothing better to do, I search for websites on Borderline that I've never read before. Today during my search, I came across this site.

In its introduction it says:

Psychoanalytic writers tend to focus on identity—or, to be more precise, the lack of a stable identity—as the core of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). But in my experience, given what I know about identity (it’s all a fraud—a social illusion), the real core of BPD, and other personality problems with Borderline elements, is rage. Rage is a raw and primitive form of anger as a response to intellectual, physical, or emotional abandonment.

I have anger issues, yes. But are they the core of my disorder? No. Personally, I think this writer is full of it and doesn't know what he's talking about. I think identity and self-esteem are what drives the disorder for me. But maybe that's just me.

I'd like to hear from my readers who are Borderline or who have family members/friends who are Borderline. Do you think anger is at the core of the disorder?

Feel free to tell me I'm wrong and you think that anger is the core. I just would like to know what others think.

BPD chat

BPD chat

Some anonymous person has created a chat room for BPD sufferers. Thank you to whomever did this. You can find it here: http://client11.addonchat.com/sc.php?id=305118

You don't have to sign up for an account or anything like that. Just type in your nickname and start chatting.

Warning, it doesn't seem to work with my Firefox, so I had to open it with Internet Explorer. I don't know if it's just my computer or everyone's.

BPD Awareness

BPD Awareness

Thanks to Sunshine4Shadows, I just found out about an awesome website promoting BPD awareness. I honestly have no idea how I didn't find the website on my own. I've been searching for awareness sites like crazy, but this site never came up.

Shades of Grey is a website dedicated to enabling those diagnosed with or affected by BPD to embrace the mental illness and thrive in "shades of grey." It says that living with BPD doesn't have to be all black and white. There can be grey areas, which I'm always forgetting.

The site is selling these awareness bracelets for $5 plus $1 shipping. Not too bad considering that the proceeds will get donated to organizations that support BPD awareness and will also help research and treatment of BPD.

Edited to add: I ordered a bracelet for myself. I spent over $800 of the tax refund on my husband's stuff, so $6 on myself seems like nothing.

Green patch

Green patch

Thanks to one of my coworkers, I'm now addicted to the (Lil) Green Patch application on Facebook. You send your friends plants/c for their green patch in an attempt to save the rainforests. I guess Facebook makes a donation every month to some organization to save rainforests based on how many plants you send.

Sometimes your friends' green patches have dogs digging in them and you have to feed it bones. Sometimes there's squirrels you have to feed nuts. Sometimes there's weeds you have to pull. Sometimes it's dry and you have to water the grass.

Overall it's a really cheesy thing, but it's addictive, and supposedly it's for a good cause.

I never really get addicted to the Facebook stuff, so this is different for me. I play with it several times a day. Soon I'll probably have to go to GPA (green patch anonymous). :D

Eeyore fans

Eeyore fans

Since a large number of people are still finding my blog by searching for images of Eeyore on yahoo or google, I thought I'd add a new image of Eeyore. I'm getting sick of everyone clicking on the same image to get here, so I'm changing things up a bit. Plus, this image is much cuter than the last.

Did you know that Eeyore has his own Wikipedia page? I guess everything has its own page on there.