Mikey's Monday Guest Post

It's Monday and Mrs. Kat Lady is currently begging me to do a post for her today.  I am tempted to say no, but she just looks too pathetic, and tired for me not to take pity on her.  So what to talk about, well how about this, just the other day i realized that it has been almost a month since we last used each others real names.  Its always "Hun" this and "Baby" that and many other sickeningly sweet monikers and embarrassing nicknames when not in public, and only slightly toned down ones for the rest of humanity to hear.  So why do we as married people seem to actually forget our own and our significant others real names.  Do we just file the face of our partner away with no name because we see them literally every day?  or some other illness of the married mind?  I don't know but every once in a while I make sure to call Mrs. Kat lady by her given and try to get her to do the same just so i don't forget my name.


Posting for my Honey Bee

~Das Bear

Shirley Sunday: Mental Illness

Welcome back, to another edition of Shirley Sunday! Today we learn my mother's intolerance of mental illness.

I am not even kidding you, my mother wants me to turn down FREE medication for my bipolar disorder, and throw away FREE medication for my anxiety disorder.  She's not even aware that she helped aggravate the conditions until I needed medication!

Speaking of mental illness...my mom has a few.  Let's see, hypochondria, Munchausens, chronic depression, severe anxiety, and let's not forget her own case of bipolar disorder.

We call her Hurricane Shirley for a reason. She exists in two modes. Windbag mode, where she must expel all she knows and thinks about verbally for long periods of time, and Level 70, where she attacks everything she loves and destructs it and her own self worth at the same time. There are, of course, shades of each mode, and they are easy to detect. When she's working up to a Level 70, she pouts, cries a lot, and calls me every day to bitch about everything and everyone. I know then that in a few days I need to stay away from my phone and not answer the door unless I want to be emotionally or physically assaulted. Yes, folks, she has thrown books at me, keys at me, and even once threw a brick at me. All because I told her no. Now she don't need no medication! Windbag mode is much more pleasant. Usually it comes off as the friendly but slightly creepy lady who finds you so interesting that she must tell you all about herself. Sometimes it comes out as the lady who tries way too hard for something she'll never have.

I'll give my mother credit...she lives with mental illness every day, and living with her encouraged me to get help. At times, my brother and I have even contemplated dosing her tea to see if she would get better...then I realized that was a crime, and I had no compunction for living in a cell.

Thursday was a good day, so I'm expecting Level 70 by next Friday. Or even one of her rare but amazing and mystifying Level 70+ moments, in which she threatens her own life and those of any adults in the car with her.  Note to self, do not ride with mom anywhere next week.

To Looney Bins, and Crazy Talk,

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady