Daily Archives: December 26, 2013

‘Twas The Day After Christmas

…..and all through our home, the only critters stirring were the dogs and their bones.

Well, the bones themselves weren’t actually stirring, but between our Pug and my sister’s Pomeranian, there’s been a major bone of contention. They’re both spoiled rotten, and they’re both ”only dogs” so they get plenty of loving attention at home. But put the two of them together, and you’ve got the cheapest entertainment on the planet! They chase each other round and round, play-fight, and then they REALLY fight—usually over a place on one of our laps.

Having a guest dog is a lot of fun, though. This morning I had two dogs greet me at the top of the stairs when I came up for breakfast—Louise’s dog makes friends easily, and she got attached to me within about 30 seconds after our first meeting at Louise’s apartment. However, resident dog Zinnia does NOT like to share the spotlight, and the emotion shows clearly on her little puggy face when any of us is caught petting Lulu.

Right now they’re both asleep on the sofa with my sister seated between them. Thankfully they’re pretty good about sharing the humans, but there’s always an undercurrent of jealousy, even on the part of little Lulu. Overall, however, it’s been really enjoyable, and of course now I want a second dog, even though it wouldn’t be smart to get one when we’re so unsettled as to whether we’re going to stay in the house we’ve lived in for almost eleven years or move closer to my work. We may have a hard time finding a place that’ll take even one dog, let alone two, and Zin may not appreciate it either, despite the fact that she makes a halfway decent hostess.

Yes, it’s been a great Christmas week, with plenty of love and laughter and waaay too much food. The pounds that accompanied my three-week Zyprexa adventure brought some friends with them, and now I want the holiday season to be over with so I don’t have to be tempted with cookies, candied yams, eggnog and other stuff I don’t usually eat. And once again, I’m thankful that Zyprexa is only a visitor in my life and not a year-round companion…..I swear I’d weigh 400 pounds if it were. 

Speaking of which…..the way things have been for the past several weeks, it feels like my last bout with mania and then depression happened in the distant past, instead of only a couple of months ago. This is another reason why I’m glad I’ve stuck with this blog; it keeps me humble and reminds me that I can never relax my vigilance, because there WILL be future mood episodes and I need to be able to recognize the warning signs so I can take action before they get away from me. 

Last night my son’s mother-in-law (who also follows the blog) told me she can always tell when I’m off my bird by the way I structure my sentences—she said I “zigzag” between subjects at a blinding speed, and she can almost hear me running off at the mouth. So I went back through some of my old posts from times when I was manic, and I was instantly embarrassed: some of that stuff is so tangential that even I can barely understand it!

Thus I thank you, Constant Reader, for following bpnurse and putting up with me when my thoughts are rocketing around the universe like a giant Ping-Pong ball. Happy Holidays, and may 2014 be better for all of us.


A Song for My Sister

My sister and I are separated by nearly 2000 miles. But, as is often the case with sisters, there is an unbreakable bond and there’s rarely a day I do not feel surrounded by her love and support. She is one of the most giving, loving, amazing and beautiful people ever to grace my life and I thank God every day for her.

My sister and I do not look alike, she takes after mom while I look more like dad. She’s definitely more of a girly girl than me, but we’re very much alike in other ways. We both wear our hearts on our sleeves, give to others far more than we ever get back and both still have that dream of finding “the one”.  I wish right now I could say that we both have that one person in our lives. Instead, my sister and I are alike in finding ourselves tired, sad and heartbroken after giving our hearts and getting them back broken. In her instance, she’s tried and tried to make things work, but circumstances seem to keep interfering. In my instance, it’s once again losing my heart to someone totally ill suited for me. Did I mention my sister and I both adore firefighters? Yup, we’re a little too alike sometimes…

I heard this song recently and it made me think of exactly where my sister and I are in our lives…

The lyrics hit way too close to home for me, and I know my sister will probably cry when she listens to the song. But  I take heart in knowing I gave as much as I could, so while it certainly hurts to know things between The Paramour and I are not going to work out (and my heart won’t get the memo for a long time) I at least know I did my best. The Paramour came into my life and woke up feelings I thought were long gone. But two broken people cannot have a healthy relationship.

My sister has given so much to her guy for years now, and there’s always a reason things don’t work out for them. She deserves so much more than being on the back burner of someone’s life. I know she’s going to hurt for a while but I pray she never loses hope that one day she will find the right guy who makes her a priority, as she deserves.

So, not only is this a song for my sister, it’s a song for the brokenhearted who find themselves in similar situations.  We deserve to be happy and not feel ashamed for having given so much of ourselves.

Filed under: Self Discovery Tagged: heartbreak, moving on, sadness, sister

Weekly Photo Challenge: One

Been awhile since I did one of these photo challenges, hasn’t it? For some reason, the theme of “One” resonated. …

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The Wrong Side of Bed

Today is one of those days where I feel like I got up on the wrong side of the bed. The entirety of my interaction with humankind online has done nothing but nigh-on infuriate me, and over pretty much nothing. I’m taking it as a hint to try and keep my head down and not talk to anyone; let’s see how well I do.

I’m also cranky ’cause I’m having stupid toe cramps. I’ve applied magnesium oil to my feet, I’ve had a little can of tonic water (the quinine is useful for cramp, though sources seem to suggest to not do it often or unless it’s severe), and I’m going to see if heat helps any. I’ve also got Icy Hot that I can apply and that *usually* is useful, but since it’s the tubs rather than the tubes, it requires an annoying amount of digging out. It’s not that the cramps hurt, per se, but they’re a relatively constant irritant, which then causes my anxiety to spike.

And then there’s the joy of breaking in a new computer. As happy as I am with my shiny new baby, it takes my wretches eyes and migraine-y head some time to adjust to the change. It’s a little thing, but when all the little things are stacking up against each other, they’re all sort of a big thing together.

Really though, it’s all just so hard because the ire doesn’t want to lie down in a timely fashion. Even if it has been a bit since I stopped taking the Zoloft, it still feels like there are some side effects. Perhaps it *IS* just what my non-Zoloft baseline was; I certainly have a hard time remembering after having a good half a year of taking it. I guess I wish my brain would ‘toughen up’ a bit so that I didn’t feel quite so floundery. I mean, I’m still doing passably well, but atop all the pregnancy crap, the little bits of braining bad do stick out.

Anyways, I should probably try to find a nibble of coffee or chocolate or something and avoid people. *nodnods* Hope everyone is doing well.


The post The Wrong Side of Bed appeared first on The Scarlet B.

Desperately Seeking Faith

I had hoped I would get through the holiday and feel better, to find the joy of the season somewhere within. Instead, I find myself frustrated, sad, disappointed and worn out altogether.

Call it a crisis of faith, call it a breakdown.  All I know is my faith in a higher plan that God has set forth for me, is shaken. That confidence of knowing I am meant to travel a certain route is nearly gone. It has been replaced with frustration and disappointment. I know I am not to question God’s plans for me, but to instead hold tight to my faith and wait to see what God is manifesting for me. But the reserves of strength and faith are running out. Disappointment after disappointment, wrong decision after wrong decision, heartbreak after heartbreak leaves me wondering why. Why do I seem to be stuck in pain, why does joy elude me, when is it going to end?

The countless tears are taking a toll.  A favorite Bible verse echoes jarringly in my head, but not latching onto my heart. Still,  I cling to it, willing it to quell my tears, cool my frustration.  I suppose I am at the point where my faith is the size of a mustard seed and I pray that I shall soon move mountains.

source: weheartit.com

source: weheartit.com

Filed under: Self Discovery Tagged: bipolar, disappointment, faith, frustration, sadness