A Serious Post from your usually Not Serious Bi Polar Writer

I was generously offered the opportunity to write a guest post for one of my favorite sites, Black Box Warnings. Some of you may have already  read the piece, but it is under my name, not YoYo-Dyne.

I hesitate to post it here, as it is very personal and not YoYo-Dyne material. It deals with mental illness and Bi-Polar Disorder, and not in my usual passing manner.

If you are interested you can find it here. http://blackboxwarnings.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/heavy-mental-2/

Thank you to my readers… this post will probably cost me a few heh. Damn, I just hit 1000 readers/follows this weekend too. Yay me!

Take Care,

~Miss R

N is for Neurosis

Kurt Vonnegut -neurotic

Kurt -The Ultimate Neurotic.
Caricature courtesy of artist Kathryn Rathke

Listening to Joe Sample right now, after an earfest of Sinatra. I’m doing an El Guapo here. Posting this late afternoon’s musical choices that is.
Not to be confused with ‘listening similar to’ El Guapo.
EG and Tony: don’t tell Mrs. Guapo

Anyway, tertiary is my middle name. Except this post is N for Neurotic. Ergo, all theorems proved by scientific method; see paragraph above. Same results in pristine laboratory settings (the living room and office) or your kitchen.

Neurosis runs (gallops, bobsleds, careens, bucks…you get the picture) through the family. Being a lifelong over-achiever I’m appointed the poster child for the Black clan.

Go ahead and get married, have the last name of an ex-hubby, change your name legally. The Black curse is upon you all Buahahahaha. –stops for water and takes Xanax-.

Okay, back now. Here are the three main criteria for getting your familial Neurosis on:

  1. Nature: Are you and/or your family subject to any of the following DSM certified symptoms?

a)      Eating Disorders

b)      Bi-Polar

c)      Eccentricity

d)     Black ™ Sheep Family Syndrome

             2. Nurture: Are you and/or your family involved in any of the following professions?

a)      Psychology

b)      Psychiatry (three thumbs up here!)

c)      Waste Management Disposal (+2 if your surname ends with ‘I’ or is similar to the range below Falsetto…)

d)     Addiction Specialization (social workers, AA ashtray cleaning, nursing, dealer –either here in a Nevada casino or located at the local street corner-)

    3. Intelligence/Talent?

a)      Off the charts Mensa 1%er IQ?

b)      Savant i.e. dumb as a box of hair taped up but able to play an oboe in tune

c)      Genius IQ AND musical/photographic/acting/writing/amazing artistic ability

d)     Tap dancing even though Ed Sullivan is still dead

Well faithful readers how do you score? On the test. Not with the opposite (or same) sex.

Years of intensive research have led me to this simple questionnaire. Combined with years of psychiatry, therapy, analysis, medication, hospitalization, straightjackets (oh hell that was a club in San Fransisco nevermind)  and obsessive reading/learning skills. Damn. Reminds me. Forgot to list OCD up there with the ‘Nature’ answers.

Conclusion: Fuck Piaget.

See Online Merriam Webster definition for Neurosis below.
Have left out the pronunciation guideline because if you are reading this you know how to pronounce it.

Neurosis: a mental and emotional disorder that affects only part of the personality, is accompanied by a less distorted perception of reality than in a psychosis, does not result in disturbance of the use of language, and is accompanied by various physical, physiological, and mental disturbances (as visceral symptoms, anxieties, or phobias)

neurotic facebook

Bah humbug. I got ‘yer solution right here. Closer to the Holmes 7% Solution than any meds on the market. Don’t ask me how I know this.

Dr. Rachee Black (I play one on TV, parties and stayed at a Holiday Inn Express) recommends a minimum of 2 G&T’s per evening. Xanax bid or as needed. Some days none are indicated. Those are the days that begin with S; for Somnolence. Watch this Space for upcoming definitions!

*This study may be affected by pharmaceutical US costs, physician co-pay amounts and general degradation professed towards any person suffering from anything BUT admitted Neurosis. Once again, not that I’d know.


~Miss R


-addendum: iPod just switched to Elliot Smith; Miss Misery is the first track. Gotta love being in synchronicity with life, the universe and everything. Say isn’t Towel Day coming up?



Inspiration Point, Idyllwild Ca

Inspiration Point. Idyllwild, Ca.

Today is the anniversary of my father’s death. Maurice W. Black MD.

It may be the 4th or 5th year. Try not to think about it. The obituary says the January 7th, but I believe it was actually the 6th.
I couldn’t bear to attend your funeral for several reasons. Staggering guilt, sadness and abrupt bouts of tears overwhelmed each day. Never seeing your grave was a constant mental blow to my heart and conscience. Finally, after several years and with the help of counselling I’m alright with that. There is no guilt nor even one reason to visit the cemetery. You are gone forever. that grave is cold stone.
When the phone rang with the news of your sudden and  unexpected death I immediately flew into LA from Reno. The other 2 of our immediate family were there and insanity reigned. My half-sister loved you, despite spending  time and money proving that she was not your daughter. I’m so happy that you never found out. Your wife, my step-mother, loved you too.

They both took control. My words and wishes were meaningless. Watching my step-mother and sister casually disposing of your things, going through your closet and items held dear while you were lifeless in the morgue. When my step-mother’s children arrived I was asked to sleep under the dining room table. This was to allow one of my step-mother’s children to take the bedroom. Their decision to bury your body in California and not in the family plot in Pennsylvania Then the selfishness shown in deciding the time of the funeral was preposterous. Well it couldn’t be in the morning because my sister and step-mother’s shoes would get wet from the dew. Jesus I thought you would never be laid to rest.
If they had made a credible and faster decision you would at least have been able to roll over in your grave.
My half-sister making sure that all of the Black family possessions went with her. Her excuse later was that she had it for ‘safekeeping.’ From what?! She wasn’t even a Black. An excuse to get her way and belittle myself, life, and feelings. Innuendos were made, lies were spread. Why? You would have told them to shut the hell up and knock off the nasty bullshit gossiping.
It was an indisputable fact that the Knabe piano went to me. Dad we shared the passion for music and the beautiful piano. No one could deny that one thing to me. The circus in your beloved Idyllwild mountain home was literally unhinged. After a desperate phone call to a good friend I fled the vultures. Dad, you would not have stood for that fatuousness either. It was an atrocity and there was no reason to continue feeling forced to participate. So I missed your funeral. Know that you understand.

My father was the only person in my life that encouraged me to go where life took me. Music and not Medicine, Life and not fleeting Love, Happiness and not Hopelessness. When I was finally willing, sobriety and not self-destruction.

At the age of 40 I wanted to end my current career as a successful businesswoman and musician; to go to Med School. He gave me the down and dirty about life in the medical field today. He convinced me that 20 years ago (when I graduated from college) it would have been the right choice… but no longer. God that conversation became hilarious. A great memory.

I miss you dad. You gave me my love for learning. For history, travel, gourmet food but most of all music. From Classical to Show Tunes to Big Band. To learn how to play the piano, to find my own path, and all with unwavering love and support.

The last night of your life you called me. I didn’t call back, opting to call back the next day. Hate the phone, and email. So did you. Our conversation every week was an exception.
By the next morning you were already dead of a massive stroke; on your way to help others. At the age of 75 you still went to work every day to head the county mental health division. You didn’t need to work.

Doing my best not to dwell on the events that occurred upon your passing.
Only that you loved me the most. Being the favorite was my blessing from you. I loved you the same way.

~Miss R

Cognitive Health Indeed and Word

Two people in the last 24 hours have told me that I should start thinking happy thoughts in order to relieve my depression.
Whoa. Great idea why didn’t I think of that? Damn I’ll get right on it.
Are you fucking kidding me…?

In other news…. was able to sleep in my own bed last night. The bad part was that I was of course alone. Again. Naturally.
I must say it’s a hell of a lot better than my couch though. No AC in the bedroom but the bed itself is mighty fine.

The summer heat in Reno is merciless. I’ve no spa to dunk my head into or sprinklers to run through. The past few months in TKs backyard spoiled me.
On the other hand it could be worse. Lizzie Borden is a Persian and that poor beast must be combed every day or she explodes fur like a time release hair freshener –rim shot-.

Been up since 5:45 this morning which is a record for the past week. My internal clock is all kinds of fucked up (hmmmm don’t say it) and this is the latest I’ve slept in days.
As the sun rose I sat outside with coffee and a cigarette –yeah another bad habit picked up in the last 6 months- finishing an essay by Noam Chomsky on B.F. Skinner

Good Morning America? The Daily Buzz? Nay say I!
Here’s to a ciggie, coffee and words of a brilliant mind to begin a day.

Actually considered going to the gym first but that will wait until later. I’ve not put on any weight but my clothes don’t fit for hell. The extra baggage has shifted into areas not equipped with hand rails.
The problem with strenuous exercise when I’m depressed is this:
When the endorphins kick up I may not get that rush of positive high feelings. Instead, my mind sometimes goes the other way and I sob uncontrollably.
Bad form at the gym doncha know. It’s a pain in the ass wiping down the elliptical when you’re done but toweling up the tears is just plain embarrassing.

Have to work today for awhile besides hitting the gym. Was going to cook chili but have decided to throw away all of the meat I’d purchased.

I’ve no desire to cook for just myself. What’s the point.
I can’t bring any to share with a friend which was my original intention.
Already did the one-time-only pathetic shot of showing up without being invited.
You know, very childish teenage behavior. I was humiliated of course and made zero points.
I consoled myself with the knowledge that everyone in the history of men and women has done this at least once in their lives.
It’s when you make an unannounced visit more than once, or drive by an ex’s house, or continually make phone calls that you slide into stalker territory.
Ugh. I’d rather eat broken glass ala rusted razor blades.

So, I’ll continue to eat my Dreyer’s frozen fruit bars, try to write, finish up Tinfoil Hat Guy’s site, and think thoughts of tweeting birdies, puppies, kittens, smiling chipmunks and sunny happy days.
Scratch that last part.

Cognitive health indeed. I’m a clinically depressed misanthrope and while I am inconsolable over losing my best friend, watching the quail and discussing the universe I will surely drink Drano if forced to consider allegedly happy good thoughts.

Mack the Knife
~miss r

Currently listening:
Beethoven: Symphonien Nos. 5 & 7 / Kleiber, Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
By: Ludwig van Beethoven
Release date: 23 January, 1996