Daily Archives: March 2, 2014

2, 4, 6, 8, 10

I tap my fingers on my knees while counting 2,4,6,8,10 repeatedly, rhythmically, quickly, my body slightly rocking from time to time. Habitually, without effort, as automatic as breathing or blinking as the mechanics of my brain churn out thought after though, layer upon layer…

Lost In Translation


Santa Claus & His Old Lady - Cheech & Chong
Listen and laugh!


One thing that I actually was listening to with both my earplugs in was Cheech & Chong's "Santa Claus and His Old Lady", a recording that I remember hearing way back when, sometime during childhood. It was one of the only good memories that I could ever scrape up, not that I try, but I had to listen to the video on FB and go with it. I was laughing my ass off, then I realized I was doing it in front of the spouse, and that he may be missing out on something that he might think was funny too. So, I pulled out the plugs and asked him if he liked Cheech & Chong. He flat out said "No," with the least bit of interest, and didn't even make eye contact.

I was kinda crushed, because this was something I loved since I was a kid, remembering that I never believed in any santa claus, and that this crazy comedy recording could still make me laugh my ass off after all these years.

Lost in translation. 

He is from the UK.

Later I remember listening to an old Chris Rock special and an old George Lopez special stand-up comedy gigs on HBO. Again, I was laughing my ass off, pulled out the plugs, and asked the spouse if he liked these guys. Another flat "no". But they are so fucking funny! I didn't wanna do no splainin' Lucy, I thought to myself. It was then that I realized he wouldn't even get this song.




Lost in translation.

Flashback to years ago when I was in England with him and I rented a hilarious movie, "Pootie Tang". We both watched it, I laughed my ass off, and he was silent as a clam on the bottom of the ocean.

Lost in translation. 

I miss laughing. I miss shared laughter.

Well, at least he can appreciate some Robert Rodriguez movies and stuff. I don't know. Who doesn't love Danny Trejo by now? 

He sure doesn't appreciate all the love and work that is put into making Mexican food. That's disappointing. Some of you ladies out there know what I'm talking about. That's why I don't cook it anymore. Shame that even food can get lost in translation. 

Damn! Now I'm thinking about that little shop downtown that secretly sells homemade tamales... and I'm missing the pastries, the sweet bread like the pigs. :)


 

Aging with Invisible Illness

Steve7 dsc_029

I’ve always enjoyed getting older. I’ve found that I discover new ways to live my life every day and that as I age I’m developing a greater sense of who I am and how to live a good life. I have a good home to live in and a partner who loves me dearly. I have good food to eat and medical care and many other good things in my life. I’m glad to be where I am at this point in my life.

But I worry about getting older as well. Especially with all the illnesses I suffer from. I worry about what’s going to happen to me as time goes on. I’ve heard conflicting stories about people aging with Bipolar Disorder. Some seem to say that you can get better as you get older as long as you take good care of yourself. That seems to be the way to me.

I’ve seen what happens when people with Bipolar don’t take care of themselves, either because they are too sick to do it or are in denial about having the illness and won’t seek treatment or get help. I have a difficult time with the latter folks who suffer so much and cause the ones around them to suffer too because they are too scared to want to know the truth of their situation.

But I don’t blame them either. I understand not wanting to know I guess, tho it’s not my way of being. Maybe it’d be easier if I pretended that I just don’t have these illnesses and try to live a normal life and see if I could get by OK without the drugs and the therapy and all the help I receive from my partner and friends. Maybe it’d be easier to be in denial, especially as I get older. Lots of people do it.

It’d be so much simpler to not have to deal with all these things I deal with on a daily basis. It’s truly overwhelming sometimes and I crash and burn just trying to keep myself from doing just that. It’s a vicious circle and as I age the circle seems to get tighter around me. The options seem to be fewer and I have to make better choices.

I have to be very careful in how I live with my aging body now having all the same things that happen to anyone who is 63 years old. A lot of my problems are just because I’m getting older and it’s part of human nature to age and deteriorate, at least to some extent. But doing it with illness just makes it seem impossible to handle. It makes it much harder if you’re sick.

I take something like 50 odd pills every day, most of which are allopathic medicines tho many are also supplements I take from my Naturopath. I think complimentary medicine is a good way to go and I see various MDs, a Psychiatrist, a counselor, a naturopath and an acupuncturist, at least for now. We’ll see how that all goes but it’s helping me now at least.

I’ve talked about most of the problems I face on here already but for those new to my blog I’ll update a few things with a link to a previous post I did early on that describes my conditions well. Read this to get a good take on things you probably don’t know about me and my illnesses here: https://nakednerves.wordpress.com/2012/11/23/30-things-about-my-invisible-illnes-you-may-not-know/. It’s grown a bit since I wrote it but it’s still true.

I live with Bipolar Disorder Type II and it’s probably my most serious illness, tho the chronic intractable pain I live with is a close second and at times it’s number one. Both are too challenging to really be able to cope with well or easily. But I do it and I’m so grateful for the help I get to do so. Without the help I’d be dead I’m sure. Such is life.

I wonder what will happen to me in the same way most people do – will my partner outlive me or will he pass first is probably my biggest concern. I really don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. I don’t know if I could go on without him in my life. He brings me so much joy and caring. I guess it’s the way for anyone in love isn’t it? But being sick adds an extra poignancy to it. I not only love him, I need him and his help. A lot…

I have good health care – having both Medicare and Medicaid because of my split disability. It’s good coverage and I’m lucky to have it because it pays for all my medical bills except for some co -pays. But I don’t trust the way things are going in the Congress as far as people on disability and pubic assistance. There are too many mean people who’d like to take it away from me and I wouldn’t have a way to live then.

This is a huge fear – that of losing my medical care for some obscure reason the government comes up with to save money by taking it from the poorest among us. And I have been poor. I lived in public housing for 12 or 13 years before I met Louie and moved in with him so I know I can do that if I have to but I sure don’t want to.

Public housing is awful and tho it’s a good roof over your head and I’m grateful for that it really curtails your freedoms and it’s difficult a lot of the time. At least it was for me. Plus there’s a lot of stigma attached to being on disability and living in public housing. It just adds to the burden of being sick. People can be so cruel…

But really the biggest fear I have is that they cut my medications down to below my threshold for pain and I’ll have to live with the pain I experience on a daily basis without enough medication. I take a whole lot of morphine every day and have to get a special permit to get that much. Each time they renew it I come unglued till it’s approved. Someday they might not approve it, and what do I do then?

I’ve tried to cut back on the morphine but it only showed me that I need this much to stay OK and not be in super bad pain all the time. I need it and I’m dependent on it too. It’s all a hateful situation to be stuck on opiates and listen to all the hoopla about people dying of it and how it’s misused so they want to take it away from all of us. It’s terribly scary and frightening. I don’t know what I’d do without it. Stay in bed all day I guess. Sigh…

And my mind is slowly slipping too. Of course some of that is aging naturally, but some of it is because of the depression and manias I go thru. The pain makes me nuts too so it’s all a vicious circle and as I age it’s getting worse to handle it. I don’t have as much mulch as I used to have to deal with it all. It’s getting to be too much.

I suppose the take away from all this is that when you’re really sick you already have to live your life very carefully so you can survive and thrive. But when you get older and you’re sick it doubles the responsibility you have to yourself and your family to really do a good job of being good to yourself and being smart about what you do with your time and energy.

You only have so much of it as you age and it’s really important that you put it to good use. It’s imperative to live honestly and openly and to ask for help as you need it, which you will, and to accept the good will that there is in the world around you. There are helpers everywhere if you allow them into your life. Don’t shut down as you age. Stay active and awake and you’ll be able to live a good life as you get older, even with Invisible Illness.

Consciously Aging,

Steve


Filed under: Aging, Bipolar, Chronic Intractable Pain, Illness, Medications, Mental Health, Relationships, Stigma, Suicide Tagged: Aging, Bipolar, chronic intractable pain, Invisible Illness, mental-health

Aging with Invisible Illness

Steve7 dsc_029

I’ve always enjoyed getting older. I’ve found that I discover new ways to live my life every day and that as I age I’m developing a greater sense of who I am and how to live a good life. I have a good home to live in and a partner who loves me dearly. I have good food to eat and medical care and many other good things in my life. I’m glad to be where I am at this point in my life.

But I worry about getting older as well. Especially with all the illnesses I suffer from. I worry about what’s going to happen to me as time goes on. I’ve heard conflicting stories about people aging with Bipolar Disorder. Some seem to say that you can get better as you get older as long as you take good care of yourself. That seems to be the way to me.

I’ve seen what happens when people with Bipolar don’t take care of themselves, either because they are too sick to do it or are in denial about having the illness and won’t seek treatment or get help. I have a difficult time with the latter folks who suffer so much and cause the ones around them to suffer too because they are too scared to want to know the truth of their situation.

But I don’t blame them either. I understand not wanting to know I guess, tho it’s not my way of being. Maybe it’d be easier if I pretended that I just don’t have these illnesses and try to live a normal life and see if I could get by OK without the drugs and the therapy and all the help I receive from my partner and friends. Maybe it’d be easier to be in denial, especially as I get older. Lots of people do it.

It’d be so much simpler to not have to deal with all these things I deal with on a daily basis. It’s truly overwhelming sometimes and I crash and burn just trying to keep myself from doing just that. It’s a vicious circle and as I age the circle seems to get tighter around me. The options seem to be fewer and I have to make better choices.

I have to be very careful in how I live with my aging body now having all the same things that happen to anyone who is 63 years old. A lot of my problems are just because I’m getting older and it’s part of human nature to age and deteriorate, at least to some extent. But doing it with illness just makes it seem impossible to handle. It makes it much harder if you’re sick.

I take something like 50 odd pills every day, most of which are allopathic medicines tho many are also supplements I take from my Naturopath. I think complimentary medicine is a good way to go and I see various MDs, a Psychiatrist, a counselor, a naturopath and an acupuncturist, at least for now. We’ll see how that all goes but it’s helping me now at least.

I’ve talked about most of the problems I face on here already but for those new to my blog I’ll update a few things with a link to a previous post I did early on that describes my conditions well. Read this to get a good take on things you probably don’t know about me and my illnesses here: https://nakednerves.wordpress.com/2012/11/23/30-things-about-my-invisible-illnes-you-may-not-know/. It’s grown a bit since I wrote it but it’s still true.

I live with Bipolar Disorder Type II and it’s probably my most serious illness, tho the chronic intractable pain I live with is a close second and at times it’s number one. Both are too challenging to really be able to cope with well or easily. But I do it and I’m so grateful for the help I get to do so. Without the help I’d be dead I’m sure. Such is life.

I wonder what will happen to me in the same way most people do – will my partner outlive me or will he pass first is probably my biggest concern. I really don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. I don’t know if I could go on without him in my life. He brings me so much joy and caring. I guess it’s the way for anyone in love isn’t it? But being sick adds an extra poignancy to it. I not only love him, I need him and his help. A lot…

I have good health care – having both Medicare and Medicaid because of my split disability. It’s good coverage and I’m lucky to have it because it pays for all my medical bills except for some co -pays. But I don’t trust the way things are going in the Congress as far as people on disability and pubic assistance. There are too many mean people who’d like to take it away from me and I wouldn’t have a way to live then.

This is a huge fear – that of losing my medical care for some obscure reason the government comes up with to save money by taking it from the poorest among us. And I have been poor. I lived in public housing for 12 or 13 years before I met Louie and moved in with him so I know I can do that if I have to but I sure don’t want to.

Public housing is awful and tho it’s a good roof over your head and I’m grateful for that it really curtails your freedoms and it’s difficult a lot of the time. At least it was for me. Plus there’s a lot of stigma attached to being on disability and living in public housing. It just adds to the burden of being sick. People can be so cruel…

But really the biggest fear I have is that they cut my medications down to below my threshold for pain and I’ll have to live with the pain I experience on a daily basis without enough medication. I take a whole lot of morphine every day and have to get a special permit to get that much. Each time they renew it I come unglued till it’s approved. Someday they might not approve it, and what do I do then?

I’ve tried to cut back on the morphine but it only showed me that I need this much to stay OK and not be in super bad pain all the time. I need it and I’m dependent on it too. It’s all a hateful situation to be stuck on opiates and listen to all the hoopla about people dying of it and how it’s misused so they want to take it away from all of us. It’s terribly scary and frightening. I don’t know what I’d do without it. Stay in bed all day I guess. Sigh…

And my mind is slowly slipping too. Of course some of that is aging naturally, but some of it is because of the depression and manias I go thru. The pain makes me nuts too so it’s all a vicious circle and as I age it’s getting worse to handle it. I don’t have as much mulch as I used to have to deal with it all. It’s getting to be too much.

I suppose the take away from all this is that when you’re really sick you already have to live your life very carefully so you can survive and thrive. But when you get older and you’re sick it doubles the responsibility you have to yourself and your family to really do a good job of being good to yourself and being smart about what you do with your time and energy.

You only have so much of it as you age and it’s really important that you put it to good use. It’s imperative to live honestly and openly and to ask for help as you need it, which you will, and to accept the good will that there is in the world around you. There are helpers everywhere if you allow them into your life. Don’t shut down as you age. Stay active and awake and you’ll be able to live a good life as you get older, even with Invisible Illness.

Consciously Aging,

Steve


Filed under: Aging, Bipolar, Chronic Intractable Pain, Illness, Medications, Mental Health, Relationships, Stigma, Suicide Tagged: Aging, Bipolar, chronic intractable pain, Invisible Illness, mental-health

Aging with Invisible Illness

Steve7 dsc_029

I’ve always enjoyed getting older. I’ve found that I discover new ways to live my life every day and that as I age I’m developing a greater sense of who I am and how to live a good life. I have a good home to live in and a partner who loves me dearly. I have good food to eat and medical care and many other good things in my life. I’m glad to be where I am at this point in my life.

But I worry about getting older as well. Especially with all the illnesses I suffer from. I worry about what’s going to happen to me as time goes on. I’ve heard conflicting stories about people aging with Bipolar Disorder. Some seem to say that you can get better as you get older as long as you take good care of yourself. That seems to be the way to me.

I’ve seen what happens when people with Bipolar don’t take care of themselves, either because they are too sick to do it or are in denial about having the illness and won’t seek treatment or get help. I have a difficult time with the latter folks who suffer so much and cause the ones around them to suffer too because they are too scared to want to know the truth of their situation.

But I don’t blame them either. I understand not wanting to know I guess, tho it’s not my way of being. Maybe it’d be easier if I pretended that I just don’t have these illnesses and try to live a normal life and see if I could get by OK without the drugs and the therapy and all the help I receive from my partner and friends. Maybe it’d be easier to be in denial, especially as I get older. Lots of people do it.

It’d be so much simpler to not have to deal with all these things I deal with on a daily basis. It’s truly overwhelming sometimes and I crash and burn just trying to keep myself from doing just that. It’s a vicious circle and as I age the circle seems to get tighter around me. The options seem to be fewer and I have to make better choices.

I have to be very careful in how I live with my aging body now having all the same things that happen to anyone who is 63 years old. A lot of my problems are just because I’m getting older and it’s part of human nature to age and deteriorate, at least to some extent. But doing it with illness just makes it seem impossible to handle. It makes it much harder if you’re sick.

I take something like 50 odd pills every day, most of which are allopathic medicines tho many are also supplements I take from my Naturopath. I think complimentary medicine is a good way to go and I see various MDs, a Psychiatrist, a counselor, a naturopath and an acupuncturist, at least for now. We’ll see how that all goes but it’s helping me now at least.

I’ve talked about most of the problems I face on here already but for those new to my blog I’ll update a few things with a link to a previous post I did early on that describes my conditions well. Read this to get a good take on things you probably don’t know about me and my illnesses here: http://nakednerves.wordpress.com/2012/11/23/30-things-about-my-invisible-illnes-you-may-not-know/. It’s grown a bit since I wrote it but it’s still true.

I live with Bipolar Disorder Type II and it’s probably my most serious illness, tho the chronic intractable pain I live with is a close second and at times it’s number one. Both are too challenging to really be able to cope with well or easily. But I do it and I’m so grateful for the help I get to do so. Without the help I’d be dead I’m sure. Such is life.

I wonder what will happen to me in the same way most people do – will my partner outlive me or will he pass first is probably my biggest concern. I really don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. I don’t know if I could go on without him in my life. He brings me so much joy and caring. I guess it’s the way for anyone in love isn’t it? But being sick adds an extra poignancy to it. I not only love him, I need him and his help. A lot…

I have good health care – having both Medicare and Medicaid because of my split disability. It’s good coverage and I’m lucky to have it because it pays for all my medical bills except for some co -pays. But I don’t trust the way things are going in the Congress as far as people on disability and pubic assistance. There are too many mean people who’d like to take it away from me and I wouldn’t have a way to live then.

This is a huge fear – that of losing my medical care for some obscure reason the government comes up with to save money by taking it from the poorest among us. And I have been poor. I lived in public housing for 12 or 13 years before I met Louie and moved in with him so I know I can do that if I have to but I sure don’t want to.

Public housing is awful and tho it’s a good roof over your head and I’m grateful for that it really curtails your freedoms and it’s difficult a lot of the time. At least it was for me. Plus there’s a lot of stigma attached to being on disability and living in public housing. It just adds to the burden of being sick. People can be so cruel…

But really the biggest fear I have is that they cut my medications down to below my threshold for pain and I’ll have to live with the pain I experience on a daily basis without enough medication. I take a whole lot of morphine every day and have to get a special permit to get that much. Each time they renew it I come unglued till it’s approved. Someday they might not approve it, and what do I do then?

I’ve tried to cut back on the morphine but it only showed me that I need this much to stay OK and not be in super bad pain all the time. I need it and I’m dependent on it too. It’s all a hateful situation to be stuck on opiates and listen to all the hoopla about people dying of it and how it’s misused so they want to take it away from all of us. It’s terribly scary and frightening. I don’t know what I’d do without it. Stay in bed all day I guess. Sigh…

And my mind is slowly slipping too. Of course some of that is aging naturally, but some of it is because of the depression and manias I go thru. The pain makes me nuts too so it’s all a vicious circle and as I age it’s getting worse to handle it. I don’t have as much mulch as I used to have to deal with it all. It’s getting to be too much.

I suppose the take away from all this is that when you’re really sick you already have to live your life very carefully so you can survive and thrive. But when you get older and you’re sick it doubles the responsibility you have to yourself and your family to really do a good job of being good to yourself and being smart about what you do with your time and energy.

You only have so much of it as you age and it’s really important that you put it to good use. It’s imperative to live honestly and openly and to ask for help as you need it, which you will, and to accept the good will that there is in the world around you. There are helpers everywhere if you allow them into your life. Don’t shut down as you age. Stay active and awake and you’ll be able to live a good life as you get older, even with Invisible Illness.

Consciously Aging,

Steve


Filed under: Aging, Bipolar, Chronic Intractable Pain, Illness, Medications, Mental Health, Relationships, Stigma, Suicide Tagged: Aging, Bipolar, chronic intractable pain, Invisible Illness, mental-health

What Dreams May Come

I will tell you that I am very into dreams. I remember every dream I have and believe they are really a window into my soul…literally.

In my dreams I always have some sort of conflict and I seem to always run away from them to save myself. I always tell my husband about my dreams and about a month ago he said “you seem to be always running away in your dream. you never confront anything”. He was right. In my dreams I am a meek and unresolved woman just trying to survive. I have never had a dream where I actually stood and fought my ground.

Well last night changed that, and I woke up feeling like a fighter! In my dream I actually had a fight, and I beat someone up. In the dream I warned the person a couple of times to leave me alone, and when they didn’t I attacked, and won!

Last night I hung out with friends, and I told them that I probably could not make an annual trip that we all do in May for Memorial Day. I now work in retail and there are “blackout” days in which I HAVE to work. My friends told me that I didn’t need the job, and I could find something better paying, and that I should make up something to get off..

As you all know I NEED a job. Not just for money, but for my well-being. I like to feel like I’m doing something productive with my life. So when my friends told me that it made me feel pulled – do I ditch my job for a weekend of drinking, smoking, and good times or do I do the responsible thing for my mental state and life???

This might sound silly, but after waking up from my dream I felt stronger. I felt…different.

My husband brought it up again to me this morning about my trying to tell my job some bullshit that weekend to get off, but I told him NO. I will not sacrifice my job and health for a weekend of partying. Although it might be the best weekend ever, I will not put my life on hold anymore. I will be an adult and DO WHAT I NEED TO DO BEFORE I DO WHAT I WANT TO DO(something my mother instilled in me very harshly as a teen)

Right now, I feel empowered and strong. I now know what it feel like to stick to your guns. My dream helped me with that…really!

So I guess the moral to this post FOR ME is to stick to your guns OhTemp and never again let people make you try to do something you know will hurt you in the end. I feel like something might be turning around.


Filed under: Ranting, Uplifting

You Better Think


                                                                             Aretha - Think  


If I'm not exactly sad or SAD, then what am I? If I'm not exactly showing the usual signs of depression, like crying bouts, than what am I showing? I don't feel like crying, smashing anything, eating everything in the fridge, downing a bottle of bourbon or tequila so badly that I would do it. I'm not wishing I was doped up on painkillers and lounging in a hot tub, smoking, with my iPod.

Ok, maybe that one's a stretch... If I'm not being affected by triggers of bad PTSD shit that I can't pretty easily wipe out, like I'm used to, then I'm not feeling traumatized? If I'm not shaking like a chihuahua, and my heart isn't pounding at 100mph, I don't have to go anywhere...no need to worry about going anywhere just yet... If I'm able to sneak out by the light of the moon and get coffee (free - I save the starbucks bags) then I'm not 100% agoraphobic. If I can enjoy (?) some tunes on my iPod or online, then I'm not numb to the effect of music.

I did enjoy seeing the beginnings of spring blossoms of daffodils and such on the way back home this morning... "Enjoy"?!

Everything was going OK until the spouse got up, grabbed some coffee, said he couldn't talk for an hour because he just woke up. So what does he do? He starts talking to me, expecting me to respond, so when I do, somehow it's not what he wants to hear? He ends up telling me that I'm "sat there on the couch with my laptop and earphones in all the time", which is not true. I only have one and don't always plug in to anything, and I'm not always watching something online.. I asked him if he was avoiding me by hanging out in the bedroom so much, coming out for food, tv, and to smoke. He mentioned the earphones again, and that I'm
hard to live with. I tell him that he's also hard to live with. He says "Good comeback. Now you're just going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself." I said that I don't feel sorry for myself. At the time, I certainly didn't, I only felt rising anger, but remained cool as a cucumber.

How hard is it to live with someone when you spend so much time in a different room from them lately? I accept no blame for his boredom or lack of work. He's been laid off for too long, is bored, doesn't want to do anything outside of the home, so it feels like he takes his shit out on me. Can boredom turn someone into a monster?

He should think more before he says such cruel shit such as "now you're just going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself". No, I'm going to sit here and think about what a cruel, thoughtless, asshole you can be, as well as moody. A few days ago, he told me he loved me and that money didn't matter, that there wouldn't be another me. Or some shit like that. Lies or just the beer talking? Did he mean it at the moment, or does he have worse MH problems than he lets on/admits to? He actually apologized a while ago for being "mean" to me, and now I get some really shitty words from him.

I am not the kind of person to really argue, put down, yell, do the name calling thing, etc, that it seems most people do, including him. He hasn't always been that way. So when someone acts like he does, it just blows me away how easily someone can sling some real shitty, cruel, and potentially deadly words around like they're nothing. I've decided that I'm not upset by his words, but angry and really disappointed that he can easily flip a switch and turn so ice cold. Or is it that that is how he secretly is in the mornings? A big baby bitch? Again, it hasn't always been like that.

"...feel sorry for yourself..." I feel more sorry for him, that he can be so heartless and cruel when it's totally uncalled for. That maybe he can't feel love in the way that two people are supposed to when they are married? That maybe he's so fucked up from his unaddressed, unaccepted MH issues, he can't communicate with anyone in a deep and meaningful way, let alone have a long, deep, and meaningful relationship with someone? That he's too afraid to open up for fear of some undiagnosed reason? That maybe he's spent so much time alone that he doesn't even know how to really love someone else on a more mature level? All these are questions now...

I've said from the beginning that I'm hard to live with, but I've already told him that he's hard to live with too, so that exchange was not that big of a deal, just a dickish thing to say, especially when followed up by other insults. So if I feel so sorry for myself, does that mean that I should leave? Does it mean that I should off myself? Does it mean that I'm just not good enough for him? That he resents me and my laptop when I'm on the couch and using it? Was he trying to make me cry and go hide out in the bedroom all day long? Does he want me out of sight and mind for as long as possible?

You know, them's fightin' words, what he said, and I think he wanted to do some damage, and make me cry. Well, I'm going to skip the treadmill today and spend the day in the bedroom after all.

I started migrating toward the bedroom, had to make a stop in the kitchen along the way to cut a pill, and he just had to re-start the battle he created. So I had to respond to some of his accusations and such: "you don't even want to move and get a bigger place" (I don't have the money) "you have no interest in getting new furniture" (I don't have the money), "you ever thought about getting a job?" (how can I when I can't set foot outside in the daylight by myself?) "I don't always say you just don't want to work" "why don't you get a night job?" "You're never going to have the money if you don't get a job" "I help you with your prescriptions and pay an extra $100 rent when I'm working (not this month nor last)" "I only got $2000 worth of work done on the car because I was expecting a big return, and now we're not going to get it" (he still hasn't signed the forms, so he gets nothing at this point) "You never make plans because you never know how you're going to feel" (duh, it's called Bipolar) "You just pick and choose what you want to respond to" "You never  want to go for a walk or anything" (I have asked. He said what for? Where to? I have a car.) "I have a car. Where would we walk to?" (omg/wtf/etc)

All this from the same person that said to me, while sober, that he would drive me to see my daughter any time on a weekend. All I had to do was ask. I think he meant beg, crawl, cry, kiss his feet, cook him dinner every night. I'm afraid to even ask him to go to the store, something that we BOTH need to do. I'm afraid to ask him to walk me to the bus stop to get to the therapist. I think he takes some pleasure from this. There's just something instinctual that tells me this, not paranoia. I am unable to drive EVER (due to PTSD partly caused by being in a car crash as a little kid and crawling up to the front of the car, on top of my mother, who was covered in blood, and who would not "wake up", etc, long time ago, no sorry for your loss, please, thank you.).

I have said before, if you want to buy some new furniture, go right ahead. I have also said that I can't move to the suburbs because I will fucking die out there, and be even more isolated than now. Also, I will have to take several buses to get to my shrinks, causing me way more anxiety and shit. I fucking can't work right now. I can't set foot outside alone in the daytime. I nearly ran home this morning because it was getting light out after I got my coffee. I said before that I don't want to move before my daughter graduates. I can't remember the reason I gave, possibly because I wanted to send her money, which I do.

And now I'm pissed at myself for letting a few tears spill. Pissed as fuck.

At one point, the cat got in between us, jumped on the back of the couch and began meowing and meowing, wanting nothing more than for it all to stop, from what I guessed. I walked up and patted her on the head. The landline rang, and I knew it was going to be long distance from the UK, so I got to walk away, and get to the bedroom. The cat followed me, and curled up on a corner of the bed.

I'm pissed as FUCK at myself for letting that fucker make me feel bad about myself. He was on the phone long distance with his mum as I made my escape. I said to myself quietly on the way into the bedroom, "How'd you like it if I just shot myself in the fucking head right here and now, asshole? How'd you like to clean up that fucking mess? How'd you like to be all freaked out and not know what the fuck to do, asshole? How'd you like to see a fresh corpse? How do you like blood, tissue, and bone splatter?

What is it? You want to see me working? In the hospital? Playing the good wife? Dead? Don't fucking push me, motherfucker, because if something happens to me, and it's because I feel you've pushed me, I'm going to let a few people know this about you, mainly family, and although I may be the blackest of black sheep in a family, blood is still thicker than water when it comes down to it with my peeps, and you will learn this. You will end up being the white guy begging to be deported. You will be nothing more than an ugly stain in people's memories if you don't change your ways.

Phone call was over too quickly. The spouse came in afterward and asked me if I wanted tea. I did, but not made by his filthy hands. I guess he made some for himself, and sat down and called his brother in the UK.

My face is burning from anxiety/frustration/anger/stress/I gotta pee. My armpits are sweating lightly. I just noticed that my teeth are clenched. No surprise. I don't want to leave this uncomfortable spot, yet I must.

Yes, "suicide" has popped out of the file drawers at the back of my mind again, no surprise. The spouse went for almost all my buttons he could try to push, but didn't push. Instead, he played fucking "Whack-a-mole" on those motherfuckers. Does he know? Did he do it on purpose? Does he have a clue? Will I clue him in? How could I clue him in without sounding weak, or looking like I'm just feeling sorry for myself, like he thinks? Should I have to even clue him in? Shouldn't he know all of that shit he said was horrific and damaging already? Do I fucking bother to inform him again?

Fuck no. Let dozing assholes lie, drink tea, and yack on the phone. Fuck 'em.

Sing it, Aretha.

To blog or not to blog?



So I've ended up writing a blog about wether or not I should be writing blogs!!!!! Just about sums up my frame of mind at the moment. Sometimes I don't know why I'm even bothering to write this blog. I started it because it somehow helped to just write stuff down. I had the notion that sharing my experiences might be interesting and useful. Sometimes it gives me a huge sense of relief to write my thoughts down. I never really thought of the consequences. I'm trying to work out where I'm at right now and I read back over some of my past blogs. All I've done is make myself miserable. When it boils down to it nothing ever changes. If I did meet someone special and they read it I guess they'd run a mile. I haven't exactly portrayed myself as the most stable person. 
 If I just give up on it I'll feel like I've failed yet again but I can't really see much point to it anymore. I always have big ideas and start things that I never finish. I suppose a blog like mine doesn't really have a beginning or end. I have had some really positive things come out of it. I've met people who tell me it's helped to know there are other people out there who experience the same things. I've been able to get things off my chest that I wouldn't dare have spoken about to anyone before. My sister told me she has a better understanding of bipolar and how it affects me. I don't know, maybe some things would have been better left unsaid. I get like this every now and then. Have I actually posted anything worthwhile or have I just made myself look like a complete freak?  Trouble is once something is said it can't be unsaid. I've never lied in any of my blogs but I worry that I say too much. I know people read it because I've had thousands of page views but who really gives a shit anyway?  I still keep writing it. I feel almost compelled to keep writing it.
 I've tried so hard over the last few weeks to get my life back in order. I've tried to be realistic. I've tried to just get on with things. Maybe I'm trying too hard.
All day every day I feel like I'm being bombarded with advice about what I should or shouldn't be doing. How to keep fit, how to stay healthy, what to eat, what to wear, what to read, what to say, how to be happy, what to think ......It's just constant. It's everywhere. 
I know what I should be doing. Knowing what to do and actually doing it are two completely different things.
I don't really know what to say. I hate myself for being this way. I don't mean to be selfish. I just can't stand it any longer. It's not a case of being sad or feeling sorry for myself. I just can't see any point. I don't know why people even give me the time of day. What do I actually do for anyone? All I seem to do is fuck up. I know there are people far worse off than me and that makes me feel even more pathetic and guilty. I wouldn't want to be friends with me. I'm not stupid, I'm not unintelligent. Sometimes that makes it worse. I can think about things logically, I can find an explanation for most things. I can talk rationally about things and even convince myself what I'm saying is true. I make plans for all sorts in my head. I feel better about things then whats in my mind just starts taking over and everything is fucked up again. Everything just gets confused and mixed up in my thoughts. What I can't do is take away the pain. I can laugh and joke and pretend but when it boils down to it I'm just so unhappy. I don't want to be unhappy. I'm surrounded by people and yet I'm so lonely. I really do think I'm crazy. My mind is just constantly going over and over things. I need it to stop. I'm terrified of life at the moment. I'm terrified of death too. I feel like I'm stuck in some sort of hell and I don't know how to get out. I guess I do need help but I don't know what anyone can do. I'm not going back on medication.Nothing was any different on medication. 
Maybe I'm writing my blogs in the hope that someone, somewhere will read it and give me all the answers. I know that's not possible and I probably wouldn't listen anyway. 

To blog or not to blog?



So I've ended up writing a blog about wether or not I should be writing blogs!!!!! Just about sums up my frame of mind at the moment. Sometimes I don't know why I'm even bothering to write this blog. I started it because it somehow helped to just write stuff down. I had the notion that sharing my experiences might be interesting and useful. Sometimes it gives me a huge sense of relief to write my thoughts down. I never really thought of the consequences. I'm trying to work out where I'm at right now and I read back over some of my past blogs. All I've done is make myself miserable. When it boils down to it nothing ever changes. If I did meet someone special and they read it I guess they'd run a mile. I haven't exactly portrayed myself as the most stable person. 
 If I just give up on it I'll feel like I've failed yet again but I can't really see much point to it anymore. I always have big ideas and start things that I never finish. I suppose a blog like mine doesn't really have a beginning or end. I have had some really positive things come out of it. I've met people who tell me it's helped to know there are other people out there who experience the same things. I've been able to get things off my chest that I wouldn't dare have spoken about to anyone before. My sister told me she has a better understanding of bipolar and how it affects me. I don't know, maybe some things would have been better left unsaid. I get like this every now and then. Have I actually posted anything worthwhile or have I just made myself look like a complete freak?  Trouble is once something is said it can't be unsaid. I've never lied in any of my blogs but I worry that I say too much. I know people read it because I've had thousands of page views but who really gives a shit anyway?  I still keep writing it. I feel almost compelled to keep writing it.
 I've tried so hard over the last few weeks to get my life back in order. I've tried to be realistic. I've tried to just get on with things. Maybe I'm trying too hard.
All day every day I feel like I'm being bombarded with advice about what I should or shouldn't be doing. How to keep fit, how to stay healthy, what to eat, what to wear, what to read, what to say, how to be happy, what to think ......It's just constant. It's everywhere. 
I know what I should be doing. Knowing what to do and actually doing it are two completely different things.
I don't really know what to say. I hate myself for being this way. I don't mean to be selfish. I just can't stand it any longer. It's not a case of being sad or feeling sorry for myself. I just can't see any point. I don't know why people even give me the time of day. What do I actually do for anyone? All I seem to do is fuck up. I know there are people far worse off than me and that makes me feel even more pathetic and guilty. I wouldn't want to be friends with me. I'm not stupid, I'm not unintelligent. Sometimes that makes it worse. I can think about things logically, I can find an explanation for most things. I can talk rationally about things and even convince myself what I'm saying is true. I make plans for all sorts in my head. I feel better about things then whats in my mind just starts taking over and everything is fucked up again. Everything just gets confused and mixed up in my thoughts. What I can't do is take away the pain. I can laugh and joke and pretend but when it boils down to it I'm just so unhappy. I don't want to be unhappy. I'm surrounded by people and yet I'm so lonely. I really do think I'm crazy. My mind is just constantly going over and over things. I need it to stop. I'm terrified of life at the moment. I'm terrified of death too. I feel like I'm stuck in some sort of hell and I don't know how to get out. I guess I do need help but I don't know what anyone can do. I'm not going back on medication.Nothing was any different on medication. 
Maybe I'm writing my blogs in the hope that someone, somewhere will read it and give me all the answers. I know that's not possible and I probably wouldn't listen anyway. 

Eye of the Beholder

I was going through some boxes the other day and I found some old pictures. It was great to take a walk down memory lane and my reaction to my old pictures was interesting. My appearance has always been a sore subject for me, something I have in common with millions of people. In middle school and junior high, I was teased mercilessly. I had stringy hair, braces, coke bottle glasses and also developed early. My self esteem was sent reeling and I don’t know that I’ve ever felt confident with my appearance since then. My insecurity about my appearance continued into high school and young adulthood, especially after I gained a lot of weight in my early 20′s and after being cheated on by romantic partners. I always felt not pretty enough or downright ugly. My parents always assured me I was pretty but I felt like they had to say that, I never really took it to heart.

As I was looking through the pictures, I found some of myself from that tumultuous time in junior high, and also of myself a good 40 pounds heavier than I currently am. I was surprised by my reaction. Instead of thinking I was ugly in the junior high pictures, I was actually taken aback by how pretty I was. My big blue eyes and dark hair, my china doll complexion. I have never felt that way before, not sure if it’s the antidepressants or just that I am finally at a place where I can see myself honestly, with no filter of the bullying clouding my perception. When I saw the pictures of myself so overweight, I was stunned and filled with pride at how far I’ve come with my weight and taking care of myself more. It was definitely an ego boost.

I wish I could say that I did this or that to accept myself and be at peace with my appearance. It’s honestly been a long road and not an easy journey. I know there will be days I feel less secure in my appearance and I will always notice people I feel are more attractive than I am. But I’ve come a long way in accepting my own looks, in finding things I like rather than focusing on faults. I have started 2014 by being kinder to myself and it’s been eye opening and inspiring.

Filed under: Self Discovery Tagged: appearance, beauty, bullying, self acceptance, self esteem