Plagiarism by AlaskaPsychiatryJournal.net

I received an email this morning (from Etta) notifying me that Alaskapsychiatryjournal.net is reprinting my text without proper attribution of my work as clearly stated in my Creative Commons license.  

Anna Adrift by Anna Hertel is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

I urge fellow mental health blog writers to check their site to see if they are publishing your information as well without proper attribution. 

This is a copy of the "ticket" I sent to their webhosting service (as there isn't a "contact us" feature on their site), along with a screen shot of the Alaska website depicting their incredible lack of understanding the written word and what it means to properly attribute text...

     Subject: Plagiarism by your client, AlaskaPsychiatryJournal.net

I am reporting plagiarism by your client, AlaskaPsychiatryJournal.net .

I am the author of a blog with mental health journals as well as psychiatric and neuroscience research published posts. I currently have a Creative Commons license (Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License). The terms for redistribution of my work are clearly stated, specifying:

" Attribution — You must attribute this work to Anna Hertel (with this link) Anna Hertel / CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 "

AlaskaPsychiatryJournal.net is *not* following this procedure. They have a link to my blog, however credit for the post is given to "admin", and the above link to the license terms is not inserted on their post either.

This reflects poorly on your company as you choose to serve clients who simply cannot follow the law. I am not the first blog owner they have done this with; I did not know about it until another blog writer send me a message detailing the situation.

I expect to hear a prompt response.

Thank you.

Ann Hertel

I urge you to please check the site for copies of your own work that may be published without proper attribution or right. If you find such, a complaint can be made to their web hosting service, http://www.ixwebhosting.com/index.php/v2/pages.customerCenter , or by clicking here , and then selecting the "Create a Ticket" link on the lower right corner. I hope if enough complaints are filed, they will force this website to follow the terms of our licenses.

Damn, I am kinda pissed about this whole thing. It's not right. Granted, not nearly the end of the world, but "not right" nonetheless. And I get all riled up when people and groups do not follow the freaking law. 

Grrrr.

Update: Here is the contact information for the owner of the blog:

Registrant:
 Alaska Psychiatry Journal LLC
 411 Lake Ave W
 Union, ME 04862
 US

 Domain name: ALASKAPSYCHIATRYJOURNAL.NET


 Administrative Contact:
    Tyler, Abigail  abigailtyler@alaskapsychiatryjournal.net
    411 Lake Ave W
    Union, ME 04862
    US
    +1.2073326107
 Technical Contact:
    Tyler, Abigail  abigailtyler@alaskapsychiatryjournal.net
    411 Lake Ave W
    Union, ME 04862
    US
    +1.2073326107

Falling

I tried to find a couple places before actually leaving. People were in all of them. Now I'm leaving. I really did try to stay.

I haven't been this messed up in a while.
Not to this extent of decreased ability to properly go about my day. I do not know what has changed, my meds have been extremely stable. Everything has been and yet I'm back in this place, where it's dark and cold, and there is a howling storm outside trying to obliterate me.

I was so happy early this morning. And my makeup looked nice. Now I'm in my truck and crying. I don't want to do anything. At all. I want to go away and vanish. Dammit I haven't felt this shitty in SO FUCKING LONG. WTF?!?!??????! My brain can't hold a single semi-complicated thought.

I was trying to describe what parts of my brain aren't working right now, and then I thought this:

"So when I get really stressed and flipped, my memory stops working. My heart and nerves feel like they do when you are in a fight or flight mode, so my SAM system is clearly activated, thus prompting my HPA axis to bust out some cortisiol... And recalling my last research paper, HPA axis are dysfunctional in BD studies, if true for me, then the cortisol from the HPA isn't properly acting on my hippocampus to provide negative feedback to chill out the HPA, and the hippocampus is the main relay station to take short term memories and turn them into long ones... And if while I am stressed, my hippocampi aren't responding to the cortisol properly, so then I ask what else the hippocampi are doing in a dysfunctional way so that I am having decreased ability to put my thoughts into long term storage where I can retrieve them 5 minutes later, or as I am trying to juggle several overlapping thoughtscat once."


Well now I'm done crying bc I thought of thus and am now obsessing over this idea and wanting to see what research has been done between hippocampal function, memory, and the HPA axis, cortisol and stress.

Hmm




- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

And then

I was about to cry, and now I'm sitting in some steps by the psych building and smoking. Before the prev post I was cursing loudly when I dropped stuff, repeatedly slamming bathroom doors, and generally slamming shit in my desk, muttering curse words and I swear to fucking hell I'm going to fucking explode.

I'm trying to stay on campus. I really am. I really am. But I don't know where to go or what to do and I don't want to be around anyfuckingone. I don't want to work tomorrow and I don't want to see a fucking face.

The awesome thing is I tried to send a poet this morning and it didn't go through but it said shit to the effect that I was feeling all pumped and motivated and ready to rock school today and kick ass getting shit done. Now here I am right where I fucking was last night.

I can't identify when the shift took place. Sometime between 11am and 1pm as I was in the library doing school shit on my laptop. All was well until the Internet started to run slow and fuck up. Then I couldn't synch documents to my phone.i could think of and retain any idea or concept I needed to so I could write an email to a prof at TAMU. Then shit wouldn't upload to an email on my laptop, and the people across the way were fucking idiots and I heard them, and sometime between all of that and my walking downstairs to the bathroom my mind got all fucked and twisted into this stupid ass mess and hellllloooo flipping out. I don't know what the fuck I am going to do now. We have a review for the pharm exam at 4:00 and the exam is next Tues but I hate that class, the professor, the gay ass text for the class (which is a pathetic attempt to describe phamacology; it's so bad and juvinile that I learn better if I read a more advanced text bc that text dumbs things down and takes the slow boat to explaining anything that I end up not knowing what the fuck I was supposed to fucking learn), and I hate being in that room.

Fuck it all. I'm going home.


- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

Lovely time to flip out

Super dandy. Here I go again, and at the most Inconveinent time. On campus. It's 1:09 PM, and I have class at 4:00 PM. Yet I don't think there is anY way I can go. Or I mean to stay here until then. It's he thing with the social fear and anxiety and paranoia and aggression. Ya know, here's me wanting to literally attack then next person that fucking looks at me. That's super helpful. I'm on campus and there isn't a safe place anywhere where I can go and not feel stared at or like an ugly abomination of sorts. I can't decide what the fuck to focu on and my min is like a sive. Yet there isn't anything stopping my brain from running aroud at 96 miles per hour. Those two are a badcombo. I wish I could convey how I am feeling into fucking words so that others can understand. I feel like rippin my face of, scratching my own fucking eyes out, an then attacking anyone who looks at me funny and then kill them.

I can't fucking type anymore bc I can't fucking stand where I am anymore and I'm about to throw my fucking phone and stomp it intotge ground bc it takes too long to type on this bitch.


- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

Interview - Thumbs Down

Well the interview...
It was quick and simple.

The main idea is that her research is going in the direction of primarily working with animal models of stuff, *not* people brains. No EEG, no fMRI, no MRS, no autonomic psychophysiology lab... which means no hunting down levels of NAA in anybody's brain, or mess around with any creatures MR and GR in the hippocampi, or any of the methods that I would like to use in my research and future dissertations.

Obviously, she was not enthused that I was not enthused, and suggested I contact some other persons to see if they want to talk to me or whatever.

After talking with her, her lab doesn't interest me, so.... now fucking what.

TAMU has another neuro dept through the college of medicine where neurosurgeons (cocky ass-bags) work with the neuroscientists; we can play with all of the big fun toys and human subjects with psych d/o or TBI.

I am going to email the woman I spoke with last year in that Neuroscience Institute thingie.

PS I still feel like shit, this means more Ativan. I also still hate everything. It's the type of feeling where I just want to sleep forever. Fuck it all and sleeeeeep sleeeeeep sleeeeeeeep. Except last night, after reading those old letter and mentally revisiting the shit that exhub put me through, we my brain decided last night would be a lovely time to dream about him. That was stupid.

At any rate. I'm incredibly pissy, angry, explosive, and hating. So I am done typing tonight.

Peace to all.

Fraud

I'm all ready for my interview with Texas A&M in less than 2 hours. It's over the web using Skype for a video call. My hair is neat, my makeup is light with good foundation coverage, I have the nice sweater on with a necklace, and I properly prepped the part of my room that will be on screen. So I look all lovely and put together, and this woman is going to see me and talk to me and I am going to be composed, well spoken, and (hopefully) sounding like an educated and enthusiastic potential doctoral student.

I'm feeling like such a fraud.

My insides are screaming, I want to scream, I have so much anger and rage and am feeling so fucking depressed that all I really want to do right now is cry. I have gotten to that damn point where I quit caring, hell I haven't even done shit with school today, because I don't freaking care. I don't want to. I don't want to mess with this graduate school shit anymore. I want to indulge in Ativan and take a nap, all the while telling the rest of the world to piss off. I'm angry, I screamed and yelled earlier, I had that rage monster inside of me again. It wasn't cute. And after I stood in front of my closet for a few minutes trying to not move and not even think, that's when I realized I am a fraud. I just want to cry. I feel like such a mess, such a fucking mess on the inside, in my head, I've messed my gut up from abusing laxatives, I love vicodin, I can't be around people, I don't do well in public settings, hell I don't even do well in social relationships because I am a paranoid little fucker and as soon as I start feeling rejected or suspect someone is making fun of me then I pull away and freak out and then build even more walls around me and for each wall I actually do take down, I end up doing/saying something stupid, making an ass out of myself and then put up two more walls to replace the one that I took down because it isn't cute to make an ass out of myself in public, I mean who really wants to do that? I feel like shit. I'm half out of my fucking mind and I hate feeling like this. Damn it all to hell I am so tired of this shit. Why don't I just walk around with a fucking freak sign that says stay the hell away from me. I hate everything. I don't want to go to school, I don't want to go to work, I don't want to be around anyone. I want to stay in bed, sleep, online shop for shit that I want to buy, and research whatever the fuck I want to research on the PubMed database about brains.

I can't hold on to a thought to save my life right now. Fuck it. Ativan now, and then I will be calm and blahdeeblah when she sees me on video.

I forgot...

...what I sat down here to write. I totally forgot.
Actually, I think it may be more of an issue where I have so much shit that I have been meaning to write over the past few days that I cannot pick one out of my head right now.

Let's try.

1. I definitely bitched-out at the doctor office last week and didn't say jack about my guts, the eating issues, or the fact it takes poop-pills for me to drop a deuce. It was a nurse practitioner and I just was not feeling the whole situation.

2. I have an interview tomorrow with a lady from Texas A&M Neuroscience PhD program. Holy balls. We are using this Skype thing, video chat from what I gather. I'm actually waiting for the damn thing to set up my account right now.

3. I really don't like anyone. I swear to whatever higher being there is, they are all idiots. Basically this dude, I messed around with him (we've been friends for a while) and whatnot, he gets back together with this chick he was engaged to even though he's not too fond of her, and writes all over her facebook wall and crap how he loves her. This whole thing is hard to explain, what I am getting at is that while he is with her he is still interested in hooking up with me a whatever, and then tells her he loves her, and seriously... I don't get people. This isn't the first time this kind of thing has happened where dudes that are definitely in relationships want to do the nasty. There's this guy at work, engaged, and totally willing to do nice things to my girl parts with his mouth and whatnot. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE?!?!?! There are many more, but I don't frankly feel like delving into that crap. At any rate, people suck, and how the frik can I allow myself to trust someone else when these chicks totally trust their dudes yet they are wanting to rail me on the side??? I continue to lose my faith in the general population. It's pathetic.

4. I came across old letters and emails my mom had saved and somehow these things ended up in my files cabinet, so when I was cleaning my file cabinet out I found them. Well I am a moron so I flipped through them. Long story short, I read the last thing my jerkoff father wrote me, the last email my exhusband wrote me before I filed for divorce (he was stationed with the USMC and not local; I left him due to the fact he was a self-ish jackass (not unlike my father) who wasn't quite capable of loving anyone but himself and didn't quite get the concept of monogamy. At any rate, the two letters were SO FREAKING SIMILAR with regard to the context, the phrasing, and especially how they twisted things around so they were the victim and it was my fault. It was eerie to see such a striking similarity between the two. Then I came across an email I sent my mom when I was packing to move from the state I lived in with my boyfriend at the time (only other dude I've loved aside from the exhubs) back to the home state and I was a mess about it because I didn't want to leave him, but I couldn't stay there and I decided I wanted change and my "gut" told me I needed to move back home, blah blah blah) and when I wrote this I was so sad about leaving him and it really sucked ass and so being mentally transported back to the room I was sitting in when I wrote that sucked ass. I only got through two lines and then folded it up. So that's not helping my mood.

5. I'm super behind in my school work. I should be doing that instead of typing and whining like a baby. Basically, I don't like me right now. And I am disgusted by my body. And I am not too super feeling in general. Wah wah wah wah wah. Woe is me. I really need to stop bitching about shit.

Images...

Hello world. This is me. I am a nutter-butter and I wave my crazy flag with pride! So piss of it you don't like it.

I chose representations that show the more positive side of me, not the ugly crap that folks on here get to know. I think it might be interesting to compare what I write with the smiling fave others know. I find it to be an interesting thing, "polar" opposites. I'm hilarious.
So, without further ado, this is the "me" that most people see (hell I'm a poet and didn't know it!).
(of course I will include one of my pups, they are so important to me! Seriously, animal therapy people, this shit works)


First up, flashing the peace sign (most recent, Thanksgiving '09):

Second, my pups (Booh and Maddie):

Third, my favorite activity, riding!:

Fourth, me rockin' out at school and figuring out this webcam business:

And last, me at a costume party (nope, I'm not in the services!):

Exposure Therapy

In an effort to get over my fears of people seeing me and whatnot... I have decided to make myself post images of... me.

Terrified? Yes. Afraid people will find me on here. And that they are out to get me, will mock me, make fun of me, use this against me, spread rumors, etc.

Well... if anyone that I really do know reads this... FUCK YOU. Chances are, I think you're an idiot, and my silly thoughts aside, you don't matter to me. So suck it.

Alright. Let's get to this....

Paranoid Much?

Part of me knows I might be a little off in my interpretations... But that doesn't stop me feeling this way, and the part of me that does feel this way convinces the part of me that thinks I may be off in my feelings that it's wrong.

To get to the point... Well I'm fairly certain that everyone at work has I'll feelings toward me. Even the people that are nice and chatty with me, well as soon as I turn my back they talk about me and make fun if me and find it hilarious that I think they actually like me based on the fact we chat and whatnot. I can see it in there faces when they talk to me, their eyes make fun of me. I'm a joke to everyone. Not surprising since I'm nutty and act nutty half the time when I get all weird and chatty or hyperaggressive or something stupid. And when I get super wound up and chatty I'm sure I annoy them but when I get all hyper and chatty it's really hard for me to stop myself so I keep going and make a fool out of myself and by annoying them they have more reason to mock me behind my back.

I have a semi-secluded desk in the back of the store and I am mostly left to my own devices. Which is nice. The bathroom and water fountain are at the front of the store though.... So frequently I have to walk up front. I get so damn freaked when customers talk to me or look at me, so I take off my identification and walk up front as a normal nonemployee. I hate walking in public. Those bastard customers are mocking me, the other employees make fun of me, and the male customers are violating me with their eyes and I hate it and when I get to the bathroom I usually sit in the stall a while because I don't want to have to walk back to my desk. I hate this shit. I hate people hating me and making fun of me. I want to go home. Right now. Even the managers don't like me. I know it. Why can't I be s cooler prdon that people like? Dammit all to hell.




- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

Crap. Literally.

I think I've mentioned the thing with laxatives before. This is all kinda "gross" and perhaps more than anyone really needs to know... but then again it's the truth so whatever...

At any rate, this laxative thing is a problem I think. I am EXTREMELY constipated and feel nasty and bloated. The only way I can go #2 is if I take a laxative. Well it was only one laxative needed. Now only one pill won't produce anything other than a small bit that doesn't even go out easily. If you know anything about poo, the shape of this is how it looks when someone is dehydrated/constipated fairly well. In order to get anything worth my while out I have to take 2 pills, and what I excrete is not even remotely "loose".

Now my stomach is extended and I feel bloated and gross. My gut feels "full" and hurts sometimes. I have a feeling I should fix this somehow. I Googled "laxative abuse symptoms" and well folks, it looks like I may be in that category. I also found out that laxative abuse crap is an "eating disorder". Lovely. And that page led me to another which had something to the extent of binge eating. My weird issues with food, well I never talk about them to anyone, even on here, but dammit all to hell if I'm not a dead ringer for that as well. I do the binging in private and eat food until I'm sick, feel ashamed, don't tell anyone, feel horrid and repressed afterward andvthen try to throw up, but my gag reflex is broken.

I have a health doctor appointment tomorrow at the campus clinic to get a new Rx for the pill. While I'm there, I'm going to share with the doc person what is up with my gut and my eating habits. Hopefully doc can help with a solution. Or something. I don't know. What I do know is that I feel disgusting and have put the activities with my "special friend" on hold because I'm so self-loathing my body that I don't want to be naked around anyone. I'm avoiding taking a shower because I don't even want to be around myself. This really sucks ass.



- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

My beloved concentration, where art thou?

I have wasted my entire day not doing a bit of homework. I start to try, and then I stop and say I'll do it again in a few minutes and at the end of the day... hell I don't have any idea what on earth I did with my time. I'm completely frustrated with myself. Yet as I am sitting here cursing myself inside of my head, I am still NOT studying. I don't understand me sometimes. I seriously don't. It's like my body is depressed and doesn't have interest or whatever in jack-crap, but my mind still is being responsible.

Wait, no, it feels like that emotional part of myself is depressed, while the rational part of myself is normal and wanting to take care of responsibilities.

It's very frustrating. And the conflict within myself is not helping my mood all that much. While I would not call myself depressed, I am certainly not happy. I'm not too sure what's up. It would be easier to gauge if I would feel the same way for more than an hour or so. I get really sad, then I get hopeful and motivated, then I want to cry and feel lonely, then I'm having a fun time and glad I have my dogs over people... etc.

Well I'm tired now, and done typing this post. I have already lost interested in it.

Careful Analysis

Alright, so I had this thought the other day and then it kept building and I kept watching myself and making a list of things that I do and/or think that are clearly screwed up but that I haven't been able to curb for some reason and it is only getting more intense of these things... so here is my list, and it is admittedly rather embarrassing and whatnot, but I am going to write it all out there for the hell out of and for the sake of being honest, I am going to compile a little list here real quick like...

1. Lately I have been having the eating compulsions where for example, I don't eat because I am afraid of getting fat, and then in the afternoon I decide to have a bowl of cereal, Honey Bunches of Oats, and so I have a bowl, and then another, and another, until I have nearly eaten the whole box and cannot fit another morsel down my throat. And the reason I do this, well I don't totally understand it, but it's like when I go shopping and buy multiples of the same thing, I am paranoid that I will run out, or not get enough, so then I eat eat eat the damn cereal. That and I love the texture of it in my mouth. So I keep eating.

2. In line with #1, is my obsessions I have. Currently with Sharpie markers and post it notes and taking notes for school from my text books and them having to be perfectly orderly and neat and if I scratch one thing out then I have to go back and either perfectly white-out the space (but since Sharpie markers, expecially the super fine point ones I use, don't go well over white-out then I have to make sure there isn't a funny gap in the notes because of the white-out)  or re-write the whole note sheet if it looks too stupid. And I use a plethera of different colors Sharpie fine point markers becuase if something is written in all black or all any one color then I can't read it or discriminate between different sections, ideas or thoughts because it is all the same when I look at it, which is why I have been doing EVERYTHING, including my stuff at work, in a freakin rainbow of shit so that I can somewhat pay the frik attention to what I am trying to do. So that's one example... there are more, like my nail polish obsession, or the thing I have with certain things needing to be a certain way, or the need to buy everything in multiples, or the weird ass other things... but this is an overview, not a detailed list so I won't go into that.

3. Let's talk trich. the center back part of my head, know the spot that goes bald on dudes first, well mine is missing a lot of hair. Half the hair that is there is short about 3-4 inches long, because it is shit that has recently grown in as a result of this area being my long term favorite place to pluck. Well that, and along my center part and around the borderline of hair around my face. when running my hands through my hair I can distinctly tell when I get to my favorite "zone" because the shit is thinner there. Thankfully I have a head full of hair, so it isn't too totally obvious that I do it and I keep the existing hair back there teased in such a way to ensure that the underlying deficit is not noticed because that is just straight up embarrassing. My eyelashes used to be full and long, not they are short and sparse because I pick at those fuckers too.

I've mentioned that trich before. Now here is the new one that I refuse to tell anyone about because it is embarrassing and stupid and well, stupid. I get ingrown hairs in the bikini region. And when this happens, I go on a full scale war with a needle and tweezers to pull those bastards out. I usually end of making more of a mess of my skin by the attack on the hairs than the ingrown hairs actually caused in the first place. Okay... I know I make more of a mess. And if I think there is an ingrown hair, well Mr. Needle and I go on an exploration of things, and I poke that guy into my skin and fish around trying to hook and catch the hair. Many times I am right, and I find the rebel hair (I get excited when it's a real long one that was trying to hide from me) and pluck it out. Other times I keep fishing with the needle and tweezers and never find a hair. Then I've made a mess of my skin, and for nothing because I did not find that damn hair I swear is there so then I continue this exploration the next day until I find A hair, regardless of if it is the first one I started with or not. This is retarded. I know. And I'm noticing little scars forming from when I have had my "explorations" and so I have bought some of that Mederma scar lotion crap. Because while I am STD free, the scars look like... old sores or something from being infected with something nasty. Which hasn't happened, so then I feel gross for no reason. Then there is also the picking of scabs, any scab, on my body. I LOVE picking those bastards off. They are evil, and need to be removed.

4. Well since we are on the nasty things, let's move on the the laxitive abuse issue I have. It started a while ago, when I had the runs for a bit, and then when things firmed up I felt too "full" and bloated and didn't like that so then I would take the "poop pills" (PP) to empty things out and while I have cut back a lot on the taking of the PP I still do, every other day or so, and so I looked into this online and apparently excessive use of this shit will render your system depdent on them for proper excretion and that's pretty much where my gut is now and so I try to stop taking them all together and let my system reboot itself but after a day or so of not pooping I feel it all inside of me sitting there and taking up space and I try to ignore it and lets things reset themselves but within 48 hours I'm throwing down another PP to get this shit out of me (literally shit, hahahaha). I can't stand the feeling, it freaks me out, I get scared it's making me fatter, and I have to eliminate it. I carry PP in my purse just in case I need one while I am out because the feeling gets to be too much, and just like with the 9 packs of Listerine strips I have in my purse and backpack, I am terrified I am going to run out of them, so I have several of those blister packs in my bathroom, purse, backpack, etc. When I see them all in my bathroom drawer it gives me such a lovely and peaceful feeling knowing that I won't run out and I get so happy seeing them all there.

5. One last nasty thing that I never tell people... I have issues caring for myself, as in showering and brushing my teeth. Don't do it nearly as often as I should, because it is too much, and so I sit and online shop instead. I'm a nasty idiot. During the weekends (if I don't have school or work, like this weekend, I took off from work) I will remain in the same flannel bottoms and sweatshirt all weekend, Fri-Monday morning, without showering, changing, nothing. My teeth get actually brushed maybe three times a week (although this week I have been better about it) and then several other times I will quickly run the brush over them without toothpaste and only briefly (20 seconds or less) just enough to get the visible shit off. I am nasty. I hate admitting it. I know it's gross. Yet taking my clothes off and getting into the shower... bleh. Too much, don't have the patience for it. Don't have the _______________ for it.

6. There is also the drugs, the prescribed ones (not the illegal kind) to get me up and going when the Lamictal has me down, or the ativan to chill me out, or the this or the that or my favorite, the vicodin/percocet group. YUMMY. So I take uppers in the morning to get my ass going, or I may skip that, and then some nights I take the downers (ativan) to sleep, and during the day I may have some hydrocodone for funsies to chill things out and give me the utterly relaxing feelings of euphoria, etc. I realize I abuse drugs, although am not addicted. Thankfully. But I do recognize that my off label use, especially of the vicodin and friends, is not a good thing. And yet I don't stop. In fact with my vicodin running shockingly low, I find myself a bit panicked about where/how to get more. What if I am freaking out and need it and then I don't have any more??? I will have to take ativan but that makes me too sleepy and the V only makes me stoned and happy and the A makes me brain stop working and I become incredibly dumb, but then...
...you get the idea.

7. I have been having this totally cool euphoria thing going on too, where out of the blue I will feel like I am high/stoned on the vicodins, I have the EXACT same feeling in my head of the giddy happiness and what not, and it is so similar to the actual feeling of taking the drugs that I sit there and think back throughout the day trying to remember if I did take the pills or not... and then when I realize I didn't, it's so weird... I have the exact same high, but without taking anything. Pretty neat, but I don't think totally a normal thing...

8. A really annoying part to all of this is when I am in social situations and my mouth starts flying about a mile a minute and shit comes out that is hella dumb and pointless to say. I get so angry with myself for not just shutting up. In class this semester I find myself cracking jokes way too much and not being able to shut my trap. During lab meetings, man it is hard to keep silent. The prof says something, I can think of something funny, I say it, half the time I am too fast in my speech for the person to understand, the other half it must actually be funny because other people laugh. Or I'm so stupid they feel bad for me... who knows. At work I have the same affliction, walking around talking and being stupid. I say dumb things, I excite and get loud too easily, and I generally just straight up talk too much and the smart part of me sees this and tries to shut myself up but it doesn't work and then I just get pissed at myself for being such a social moron.

Well I'm done typing out the things I hate and/or am embarrassed about. So this list is done for now.

Still Nutty

I admit, part of me, you know, that part that doesn't like to hear the word "bipolar" out loud in reference to myself because I am still somewhat in denial... well that part had this thought that with mom being super and supportive that all of my issues would melt away and this "bipolar" shit would somehow go away if there wasn't anyone "poking" at the green eyed monster while at home.

As it turns out though, I *am* still nutty.

I'm sitting here and trying so hard to type, but I cannot decide what emotion or thing that I have felt in this very new day, and when I start thinking about typing it out I get so flustered because I don't want to take the time to sit and blah blah blah about one thing for that long (which I would have to do to get in all of the details about what happened so that it makes sense and all) so then I don't type it but then I am sitting here and thinking about wanting to express it but then I don't express it because I cannot decide to do something to write or whatever.

I sit here and have all of these things zipping in my head and body and chest and feeling so much and then I switch my mind over to some other thought of something else I have to do (for example, "I need to start catching up on my reading for my classes") and then that sparks a cascade of something that sucks really big time inside of me which essentially leads to a panic sensation because I cannot do all of the things or express everything in my body because somehow I force myself to sit here and remain still which is terribly hard given that I can literally feel my chest insides vibrating with something, energy, or spazz energy, hell if I know but then it spreads to my brain and then my thoughts are filled with this damn feeling that again, totally sucks ass, and so I breathe deep and remain silent and my door is closed and I am trying like hell for it to pass but it is remaining here and well hell, fine then, I will force myself to type the things that I am feeling (although really I have done a lot already) and the small events that have led to my sitting in my chair at my desk with my hoodie pulled over my head and what I am sure is a terribly sour expression on my face.

I will type, because it may be therapeutic and we all know how cartharsis is good and what not, so here it goes, plus maybe forcing myself to overcome my insides will be a good thing, and again in my mind, if I do that, then it will all somehow go away...

My bed, okay, I was at Target yesterday (I have such a hard time going into a store and then once I am there, holy hell I've been a spending little shit head and pretty much enter this really weird state of mind and disconnect...) well at any rate, I was at Target and bought this fake-down mattress pad thing which looked to be super comfy. I brought it home, and eventually at like 1am finally got around to making myself put the damn thing on my mattress. What was I doing all night? Oh, well it wasn't homework or studying of any kind. After getting home from working in the lab, I promptly sat my ass down with my laptop (in various places, like in bed, at my desk, etc) and wasted the entire evening online shopping. For what? Running shoes (check), yoga pants to workout in since my current ones are old and nasty (check), and messenger shoulder bag thing to replace my backpack because my backpack stresses me out because it has two straps that pull back on me and is a pain to get on over my jacket and also when I need anything out of it then I have to take the mother frikker off, put it down, rummage around in the thing, and then put the bastard back on and struggle to get it over my sweatshirt or Carhartt jacket. Pain in the ass, so I decided to get a shoulder bag, a messenger bag, a satchel, whatever the hell you want to call it, and it has a compartment with padding for my stupid ass HP laptop (soon to be replaced with a Mac), well so I got that (check), and I was looking for lotions (check) and then a bed spread coverlet thingie and that I did not find and I looked pretty much forever for something suitable but no luck there and the whole messenger bag search took pretty much forever and then the whole "shit now I actually have to decide and pick one" thing came into play and it was pretty stupid to spend the whole FREAKIN evening online shopping when my school assignments and reading aren't exactly taking care of themselves.

Where I was originally going with the Target purchase is that now it is in my bed and I am not sure if I like it or not but the whole "taking it off" and putting it back in the bag to exchange it thing is WAY TOO MUCH and thinking about doing that causes me to flip the fuck out inside so I remain sitting in my chair writing this. It's a freakin mattress pad, why the issue with removing it? Why is this stupid ass task flipping me out? Hell, why is any task this morning some big "thing" that my mind freaks out over??? Seriously. This is stupid. I don't even want to get up and go into the kitchen for something to drink. I may have to talk to someone, and like earlier, I couldn't slow myself down enough to explain the mattress cover dilemma to my mom, I thought it in my head but when I tried to speak it and make myself talk coherently, well it was a freak out type of deal and so I didn't tell her. I hope my school bag gets here soon because I just looked at my backpack and the thought of putting that stupid ass thing on ever again causes the same sort of wigging out in my brain.

SERIOUSLY?!?!? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME, AND WHY CAN I NOT DO SIMPLE ASS FUCKING TASKS WITHOUT FEELING AS THOUGH MY MIND AND BODY ARE GOING TO SHOOT IN A THOUSAND DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS?!?!?!?!?

This is so pathetic. The thought of doing anything, anything at all, does the same flying into a million bits thing to me, and so I sit here in my chair, making myself at least type because that is productive, but then I have to stop every few minutes because the typing leads to the exploding feeling and so I sit and stare at the wall and let my mind do its thing and run around like a crazed banshee and then I return to the typing.

My phone is sitting three inches away from my arm and I still have not, for the past 38 minutes, called the repair shop to find out if they are open on a Saturday. I need to. But like going to pick up my truck, and the hassel of getting dressed and looking halfway human, it is all too much and results in the same freaked out feeling.

And now for some reason I am tired. All I want to do is sleep, and sometimes I think this is a defense mechanism that my mind pulls on me, when being awake is too nutty, then it says, "fine, let's sleep this away and wake up feeling better because being awake sucks ass right now". I have so much homework to do, I need to get on that, and just freaking do it. But it takes so long to read because once I have read it the damned information slips right away again and I have to start that section over, usually to get the info to remotely stick in my brain I have to write the stuff down on a notepad, and put it in a spatial relationship organized kind of way to be able to retain it. Just words form the book pages isn't enough, I have to write it, and then like I said show some sort of relationship between the ideas and organize it in an OCD spatial way that makes sense to my brain so I can at least remember it for 5 minutes.

I'm tired. I can't sleep. I'm exhausted. I can't sit my mind still.


And now I will write a whole other post about something in the back of my mind.

Momma--> 180

I came home from school early yesterday andfound my mom in my room, reorganizing and cleaning big time. She added storage and a second dresser in my closet along with doing my laundry and reorganizing my clothes. It was so surprising and my room is a thousand times more efficient. Everything she was doing, including the hamper for me to put my dirty clothes so she could wash them while I'm at school or work, everything was designed to help reduce my daily stress after I've been at school or work all day. Her energy was different to, much calmer, and just had a more understanding feel to it.

She took time to lay on my bed with me and talk a little but mostly just relax in company. It is a complete180 from the day, weeks, months before. Her energy was totally different. I'm so completely surprised!

Having a different energy from her was so helpful with regard to my state of mind. I felt calmer and when I expressed limitations as to what I could do. Such as not being able to go "out" twice in one day, once I'm home from work or school I don't leave the house. Instead of criticizing me for watching a couple reruns of House that I've seen 5+ times (this is a compulsion of mine) she sat and watched with me.

There were so many little differences that mean so much to me, I cannot begin to list them all.

It was really really great.

She just called my phone and I was stressed and afraid to answer because it was either going to be a bitchfest about something I did wrong or a request for me to run some sort of an errand for her. I almost didn't pick up, but I felt guilty ignoring her, so I answered. I was so surprised when her only quuestion was if I wanted her to rearrange the furniture in my room, because she had an idea that would give me more space. I was SOO shocked! In a good way.

Her change in attitude and everything is great. I am so happy about this, it gives me a really good feeling, and I hope like hell that it lasts!!!!! :o)




- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

Slightly euphoric...?

So right now I am IN LOVE w my iPhone. I love it. I have the warm n fuzzy feelings for it in my chest. I love the smooth screen, the functions, the apps I have, the connectivity, I mean all I want to do is sit and play with it, add apps, and customize the he'll out of it. Of course any of the productivity apps that require creating a free account or synching with my stupidass HP laptop don't interest me a bit because it's too slow.

I've had the thing for a few weeks so it's not like I'm in the honeymoon phase with my new technology.

I realize it's absurd to have such strong feelings for a phone, and I admit it's a little silly to stare at and admire the damn thing. Which is why I suspect this emotional reaction may be a teeny bit abnormal... thoughts??


- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

I feel...

...as though I may have sounded too hard on my mother in the last post. She does love me, and does to a lot for me, and over my childhood sacrificed a lot for my sister and I. But this area... the mental health thing, she's just so... not. I don't want to give the impression that my mother is a tyrant, she isn't, she's human and not perfect, just like the rest of us. But... like I said, in this area... ehhhh. I feel guilty for saying anything bad about her, I love her, she's my mother, and she loves me... but for all hell... meh.

I told my sister the cliff notes version of my last post and she asked me what my motivation is to keep moving forward and trying. The tone of her voice, the disbelief that I have the energy each day to push myself to achieve, it was a bi shocking. To me, this resilient aspect of myself is the norm, and I do not view my life or my challenges as an entity that has the power to keep me down. I told her it is something intrinsic, something innate within me that I cannot fully describe, that keeps propelling me forward.

When everything around me fades and people in my life let me down, I have a moment of sadness and despair. I reflect on my lack of interpersonal relationships and everything that has left me, especially as a result of being a bit of a nutter-butter. But this moment of such a lost feeling is transient...

And somehow, beyond my conscious knowledge, I pick myself up off of the floor and continue on the path I have set for myself. So what if things suck or something has gone wrong. So what if I realize my relationships aren't what I originally thought they were. What does it matter? It is all external to who I am. It does not determine who I am. Nobody outside of myself can say who exactly Anna is. They simply cannot. I determine this. My thoughts create my reality and I refuse to allow negative shit that happens to mess with my internal world. Yes, I will get down for a minute, hell maybe even a day or two, but I relatively quickly get over it.

I can get depressed and down, yes, but not in the hopeless kind of way where I give up. I don't know how to give up. I literally do not. I do not know how to describe my will to achieve, I don't know the words to label it, all I know is it is such a powerful feeling, a positive force within, and without it I would be lost. It is a feeling and a drive I wish I could share with everyone. It enables me to be manic as all get out, and yet keep myself seated at my desk, attempting to read my school texts. It may be slow going, and I may be frustrated as all get out and wanting to yell and scream and run around like a mad woman, but bless this part of my Self that can overcome these nutty tendencies and I can make forward progress with my school work. I am so thankful, each day, that I have this ability.

It is hard that nobody in my physical life understands the daily internal struggles I encounter. It would really help me if at least someone did, and there was someone I could talk to. Someone who understands. I am thankful for this blog, it enables me to come into contact with other persons that *do* understand the jibberish I feel. The understanding and support is truly a lifesaver. Comments from you all, sometimes they make me cry with such relief that *someone* gets it, and that I am not alone. Tears or not, reading comments and posts from my online blogger friends is a huge factor in helping me keep motivated and keep pushing forward. And I thank you all.

All a joke

Well apparently, if you ask my mother, the relationship between stress and BD is a joke. Oh, and I also used BD as an excuse to flip out whenever I feel like it. Gee, thanks mom.

My truck has broken down in the parkinglot at work. Sister picks me up to get a can of gas, but that's not the problem, it's the lift pump. I call mom to find out if I am on the AAA before I call them. She doesn't know, says to call stepdad. I call step-dad, he doesn't know. I call mom back and she starts acting like she is an auto-tech expert (even though I'm the jackass that spent a year in auto-repair courses). She asks if I can just get a battery. I explain I am very freaking stressed, and am not the kind of idiot to tow my truck someplace if it needs a battery. For the love of god, I replaced the water pump behind my old work location on my previous truck when it went out, and days later replaced the radiator in my driveway. Yet in going to tow the truck for a battery R&R???? Fucking come on. Seriously.

At any rate the conversation continues to be retarded regarding the AAA coverage so I tell her that I'm going to hang up and call for a tow and just pay for it out of pocket because it's not worth the hassel of fucking with this. And this is true, I'd rather pay $$$ than continue to stress myself to the point where I'm going crazy-as-bat-shit in my fucking head. Mom then yells and curses at me saying I just need to hold the fuck imams something else, I shout back that her yelling at me is causing me more freakout and I'd rather pay $$ than be stresssed and I said she'd have a better understanding of this shit and how it affects me if she ever read my paper***, and then she said the thing about me using the BD as an excuse to act like an ass, and then I handed the phone to my sister and said I don't want to hang up on her but I also cannot talk to her anymore.

***referring to my research review regarding the psychoneuroendocrinology between BD patients and emotional stress.

So I pretty much cried for 30 minutes and am having a hard time trying anymore. With anything. What does it matter?? Seriously? I have put up with my own mother not being "proud of me" or encouraging or even recognizing the idea that maybe just maybe the idea of going to school fulltime and working fulltime and doing research lab work and acting like it's all whatever and no big deal. I've even put up with her joking to her friends that I'm 25 and still living at home. There was also J, the jackass I loved that couldn't be with me because he's isn't "strong enough" to handle the BD thing and can't give me what I want.

Okay. Fine. But for crying freaking out loud, when my mother doesn't even give any validity to what I'm experiencing, the struggles I work through, the sheet will power to get up some mornings, to go to school, to sit for hours on end while manic forcing myself to read neuroscience texts and learn crap so I can get a freaking Ph.D, any of it, all of it, the stuff I do outside of home is so much that when I actually get home I go straight into my sweats, sit down to study, and then go to sleep with maybe some reruns of House (episodes ive seen each *at least* 5 times because im obsessive and this is the only thing I watch on TV) on the DVR. No shower, no brushing my teeth, all of that is too much and I'm tapped out. So I sleep. Then do it again the next day. And I don't outwardly complain, never, ever, ever do I mention the BD shit except on this damn blog and she doesn't even both to read this because she doesn't have the time, hell she hasn't even had the time to read my research paper, part of which was a writing sample for my Vanderbilt application, so I shouldn't be surprised...

I can get by with out any close day-to-day friends, I am fine being alone, I'm fine not trusting anyone and I am fine with all of this, but I'm not fine with my mother not believing in me. That I am not fine with. Not at all.

I doubt myself half the time, and then I get a reminder that the crazy isn't all in my head when a doctor I emailed about dizzy issues I have asked if I was manic when I wrote her my three emails. Then I remember something is real and yet I feel like crap still and keep questioning myself and pushing myself...

At the end of the day, everybody I guess needs to have somebody. I don't have one of those. I am too stubborn and hell bent on not ever needing someone and being fully autonomous that I can't allow the idea that I too may need someone. Moments like now, crying, sad, scared, hopeless, burnt out and beat down, I almost wish there was someone the I could talk to, that would understand and support me, someone for me to lay my pathetic ass head down on their shoulder and cry and be held and feel safe. I wish there was someone. I've never felt this alone, as though my heart is breaking inside accompanied by physical chest pain, and I can't stop crying, silent tears, internal pain and sadness... Nothing has a point to it. Nothing. I don't want to go home. I don't care about school. Why fucking bother?!?! It's not like school is going to fix me; school won't save my mind or make things easier. So why? Why?? Nobody in my life gets me, nobody sure as fuck gets me, nobody understands and my family thinks BD is a joke, my friends (you know, those people I never see anymore because they are dicks) sure dint give a flying fuck, and it's all so pathetic and stupid. Look at me, what the fuck am I?! I'm a big fucking nothing. I'm an idiot. An incompetant moron that can't function normally. So what does ANY of it fucking matter?? It doesn't.




- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

Dammit...manic.

I started writing this earlier. When I was totally bouncing off the walls nuts. Still am but Ativan is prepping me for sleep.

I went to Walmart to get two items for my mom. I didn't want to because I know damn well I'm not straight in the head. While in Walmart I was freaked and panicked. I want to run away from the people and hurt them, and I was paranoid about people looking at me and making fun of me. Long story short I was spazzed and left paying $240 for random cosmetics, lotions, office crap, and stuff for my truck (e.g. the most expensive wiper replacement arms possible) and other shit too, I bought everything at the highest price point and many things multiple quantities (such as my 9 Listerine strip packs because I figure that I'll lose one and am freaked I won't gave any so I had to just get a bunch. I know needing 3 just in my purse for just in case, is stupid, yet I have not been able to change my feelings of obsession, compulsion, and straight up paranoia about my Listerine things, deodorant, scar lotion, no-slip-grip bobby pins, and a few other things that were just bought in an excessive quantity.

Ok whatever I'm bored with typing now.


- Posted using BlogPress from Anna's iPhone

"Phamacology for Nursing Care"

This text for my pharmacology class is ridiculous. It's so stupid that I have an incredibly hard time making myself read it. The author is INCREDIBLY biased against the medical (MD) and scientific professions. The tone he uses is *absurd*. I'm caught between wanting to smack him, rip his face off, kick him in the balls for being a moron, write a letter to the publishers asking how they came to the conclusion to publish this piece of crap, or just roll on the floor laughing. I am not patient enough right now to write down samples from the book. But it is a disgrace to the publisher.

Not until Chapter 4 does the author notify the readers that "drugs are chemicals". No shit? Really?!?! All this time??? OMG.

Seriously. This is a 395 level course, designed for upper level biology undergraduates. Granted I'm not a bio major and I am in it, but it was because of my tutoring in neuro and biopsych that I was allowed in. At any rate, if you are seated in this class, and your dumbass did not know drugs are chemicals, then you need to just resign yourself to panhandling because you are too stupid to manage college.

The book is pathetic. Although the author did introduce me to a new psychiatric disorder I had not previously known... "chemaphobe - a student afraid of chemistry". Totally didn't know that before. Really glad I got that sorted out in my head...

How can this fool take himself seriously??? And the moronic publisher?!?!

I am sure I sound a bit "off" in my opinions of this text. I assure you I am not, I verified the lunacy with two professors, friends, and my college educated mother. Consensus: the book is terribly written and ought to be recycled into post-it notes. I may take pics of the text paragraphs that are especially absurd and post them on here, what with my new handy-dandy iPhone and all! lol :-)

And my tooth is hurting too much for me to finish these thoughts. Crappers.