Daily Archives: August 11, 2014

I have NO idea…none…zero…zilch…nada

Bex is still here, in limbo. Airline won’t refund her money or transfer flight. Greyhound won’t take responsibility for their delay. Her family hasn’t even bothered to call to see if she’s alive.
It’s a big bucket of what the fuck.
And I’ve got everyone asking, “what’s she going to do?”
What can she do? I found a number for border patrol she can call for herself since she’s not a minor. I checked for flights but we don’t have $1500. She’d have to apply for a Visa extension in Chicago which would involve travel expense and filing fees and no guarantees.
I’m out of ideas. My family moved heaven and earth to get me back home when I got stranded in California. Yeah, there were a lot of lectures about my irresponsibility, blah blah blah but they came through. I guess for all their dysfunction they’re good people. (Not admitted without a serious fucking grudge simply because they can’t accept and be supportive of my mental illness, the most important thing on earth for me.)
So…where do we go from here. Deportation offers a free flight back to the UK. Anyone else have any ideas, feel free to share them. And don’t hesitate to stop by her page and let her know she’s not entirely alone.

I called my mom to see if she’d watch Spook tomorrow while I go to the shop. She proceeded to go off on me about this situation with Becca and what-is-she-going-to-do. Then there was YOU TWO NEED TO WAKE UP AND SMELL THE COFFEE AND DO SOMETHING! What it has to do with her and why she feels so strongly about as to scream at me is beyond me. (I am told she has swelling on the brain, a precursor to Alzheimer’s but she doesn’t want anyone to know.)
I’ve been stressing and worrying (Becca’s been dealing with excessive sleep while I have abided but I will start nagging her because while I can get info, she has to be the one to carry through since she is an adult and this applies to her.)
The suckiest part is, it’s totally a Visa issue. I’m not tossing her into the street. We didn’t even want her to go and god knows, she feels she’s got nothing to go back to anyway. But she can’t work here so has no way to support herself to get money to get back. She’s truly in a catch 22 from fucking hell.
Bad luck should be considered an exigent circumstance because everything that could go wrong that day went wrong for her.

And now…back to my frazzled nerves, utter clueless confusion, and my channeling satan child. (When she has an audience, wow, she goes psycho hose beast with the defiance and acting out. She even told me earlier her acting out if my fault for “taking me out places, you need to leave me home.”)
Thursday night is open house for her school. Yeah, I don’t wanna do that at all. So many people, parking issues, an unfamiliar building…I know it’s about my kid and I have to put on the big girl panties but honestly…I’ve had the big girl panties on for a week straight now, I really need out of them for awhile.
Maybe peace will return eventually.
I won’t hold my breath.
I need vodka with an arsenic chaser.
Vodka for me. Arsenic For the ass trash things and people around me. I broke that mirror 30 years ago, ffs, you’d think the bad luck would have ended by now. And you’d think it wouldn’t be contagious to others.
I’m like bad karma central.
Or that’s the shark week hormones making me moody and self pitying.

The only difference between my norm and shark week is the crazy is mutiplied by a google. Seriously. I’ll probably be manic tomorrow. Or crying. Or lethargic.

Come to think of it..aside from cramps, shark week’s really like every other week of my miserable bipolar life.

And now I feel shitty for even thinking about myself when I think of the terror and disorientation Becca’s feeling.
I’m not a great friend, I guess. Me, me, me.
Yeah, enough about me. Let’s talk about how you feel about me.
On second thought…let’s don’t and say we did.
(that’s humor, for the record.)

Pissed off by a Maple Tree

It's looking like fall outside. On August 11 -- oh, that is so wrong!

In Case You Ever Wanted To Try Meditation . . .

There is a FREE three-week meditation program, starting today, that I am doing and I wanted to share it in case anyone else had an interest in meditation.  You can sign up for it here:  https://chopracentermeditation.com/experience  and get started!  This is a great way to start, or return to meditation if you haven’t done it in awhile.  I like the idea of doing something collectively, like people all over the world are doing this at the same time!  If you’re interested, give it a try!  Meditation has been shown to help with depression and definitely has beneficial effects on the brain.  Have a great day!

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Meditation, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Hope, Meditation, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader

Mental Illness is a Myth part II

In 1961, Dr Thomas Szasz made a name for himself in the psychological field via an essay he wrote titled, “The Myth of Mental Illness.” During the course of his lifetime he wrote 35 more books on psychiatry and what he perceived as its abuses. On Saturday I posted quotes from “The Myth of Mental […]

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The Sound of Settling

Howdy from the new house!


Home is where the desk is!

Yes, we’re mainly moved now, which is yay. There’s still lots of unpacking to do, but at least the most important (to me) thing is done — my Technonest is rebuilt. It’s not the same configuration as before (as the space is different, for starters), but there’s a lot of storage for my wool and craft gear, and I get a great view of most of the downstairs from where I’m sitting. It’s *my* space for me, and it’s badass.

Suffices to say, this has eaten up the bulk of my attention lately. Emails? Yeah, I’m a few months behind on those now. Work? Well, got close to caught up before we had to focus on packing, so that isn’t dire. Crafting? Well, I fished my knitting out and have done a few rows, so that’s starting to progress again. Which is to say, things are finally starting to settle after being one helluva busy first half of the year.

And with that, I’m trying to take stock of my mood. I think I’m okay, but I’m also worried that I’m trending towards hypomania, or maybe a mixed episode. Even with Seroquel, my sleep has been a bit fractured and insomniatic. That could also be the horrible weather here in the UK; I’ve not been able to sleep under a proper blanket most of this year, and the lack of that comforting weight is sort of a big deal for me. I got to last night for the first time in weeks, and I slept a lot more deeply and remembered my weird-ass dreams. I’m also wary because some nights it seems like the soporific effects of the Seroquel never kick in, but who knows. It’s all a bit of a crapshoot!

I was reminded this past week by a friend that we sometimes are not the best witness to our bipolar experience. She had commented that at a certain point, she had thought she was very stable and doing well. On reflection some time later, she realized just how badly she had been doing. In that, I asked my husband today how he felt my relative mood was. He expressed that he felt I was pretty normal, as relative as that is, though pointed out that I do get a bit poker faced and lost in my own head. Fair enough; it’s a bit of a coping mechanism for when my brain gets away from me. And I’m probably doing it a touch more because as wonderful as the new house and my new setup is, as comfortable as it feels from the get-go, it’s still a new environment that I have to get used to. But on the whole, yay. I’m happy, I’m relaxed, and life is good, and the familia out here agrees that I am.

Back to trying to remember what the heck I was gonna do with myself today, ha ha.


The post The Sound of Settling appeared first on The Scarlet B.

My Farewell to self and to you all……

I’ve been writing here for a long time, on and off. Well at least it seems like a long time anyway. I used this forum instead of a ‘dear diary’…. The result was the same, I got to express how … Continue reading

Functionality Hangover

It’s not yet 8 pm and I have retired to the sanctity of my bedroom crypt. Bex has been asleep since we got back at 11 and I hope she stays asleep. She earned the rest. Plus, I am shit company in my current mind frame.

I functioned, highly, and I came through in a pinch. Kept going.

But now…I have crash landed into a place where I am calm but utterly tapped out and circling down the depressive abyss like water going down a drain.

I hate this shit. I’d rather be low functioning than to go from way up HERE to way down THERE. It’s like my own mind is trolling me and it pisses me the fuck off.

I am scared for Bex. I don’t know how to fix this and my brain is tapped out just from trying to get her back to a safe space after the trauma.

I think right now I just need to not think about or talk it. Tomorrow will come and tomorrow it will have to be faced.

For tonight…I’ve earned a breakdown. I mean, I was running on fumes all week with all prep for my kid starting school. It seems a bit selfish to think of my own issues when Bex is in the current situation she’s in but…Truth isn’t selfish, it’s just being honest and waving a white flag briefly. I need brain vegetation. Besides…I’ve been where she is, sort of. After the roommate in California basically threw me out in the street in a large unfamiliar city and I had no cash and knew no one…It sucked and I got my wallet ripped off on the bus (go greyhound, not) and I relate whole heartedly. But it all worked out eventually. And if I can come out wounded by alive, then we’ll do the same for her. Somehow, some way.

I so hate the current mind frame I am in. I am mentally bankrupt. I’ve got nothing left to give anyone, not even myself. But I’ll get back on the hamster wheel because it’s how my parents programmed me. I basically raised my sister thus taking care of others first and me second is just…imprinted.

Difference being now, I really do love Bex and I want her to be safe and get everything straightened out. So even if I am falling apart along with her, I’ll get out the duct tape and patch myself together and be there for her.

Only once she’s safely back in the Uk will I truly breathe and allow myself to come apart.

It’s weird because I was never really aware I had this depth of emotion for anyone,. I was always on auto pilot, doing what I was trained to do from adolescence. I want to help Becca and be here for her.

Just hope she can understand I’m not being selfish, this is just how my fucked up brain rolls. I have enough neuroses to worry about us both to infinity and beyond.