Daily Archives: August 18, 2014

Ten Feet Tall and Bulletproof

Did I mention that I miss hypomania?

Well, I do. There. I admit it. I hope you’re satisfied.

Here I am, sitting here in front of my computer screen being all normal and everything, when what I want in my heart of hearts is a good burst of high energy. There is SO much that needs to be done around this house and I just don’t feel like doing any of it. I’m not depressed, and I have enough get-up-and-go to do the usual stuff, e.g. getting dressed, grooming myself, running errands and so on. But while the mind says “Go”, the body says “No”, and there is no desire to do anything beyond what I absolutely must do—hell, I’m even neglecting my flowers this summer.

Oh, how I miss the feeling of being ten feet tall and bulletproof! I long for the boundless optimism and the knowledge that there’s a big wide world out there just waiting for me to do something great. I want to leap into life again, brave and bold, energized by the grandiosity that always comes with the hypomania. I want to chair-dance while listening to salsa music. I want to go to the public pool and dare anyone to make snide remarks as I do a cannonball off the high dive. And I REALLY want to land a job interview and wow ‘em like I did the panel at the State offices during that hypo/manic episode I had last fall.

Is that so terrible? Yes. Is it unusual for a bipolar person to feel this way? Not so much.

I know I shouldn’t feel this way. There are approximately 101 reasons why I take a fistful of pills on a strict schedule, and go to bed when I’m supposed to instead of when I want to. And really, I’m thankful that I’ve finally got this disease of mine under control…..except…..well, let’s just say that I’d like to be a little more enthused about things.  Being stable may be better for me and everyone around me, but I can’t help thinking it’s just a teensy bit overrated.

I’ve had discussions with a few friends about this very topic, and naturally, they all say pretty much the same thing: yeah, hypomania is nice and all, at least until you’ve spent all your money and gone over the line into manic territory. Which I don’t do EVERY time, but it happens often enough that it’s not worth the risk of attempting to induce a high. Besides, I’m never more than a couple of nights’ poor sleep or some missed meds away from a mood swing, and I have a healthy fear of messing with the magic formula now even when Dr. Awesomesauce approves of it.

The truth is, hypomania is much like alcohol and drugs: it’s intoxicating, highly addictive, and dangerous. I want it only because there’s nothing to be excited about and I’m a bit flat. Yes, there’s a lot of stress to wrap my mind around, but that’s another matter entirely; in fact, I should be grateful that I’m well enough to handle it without going out of my gourd.

Anyway, I’m only writing about all this because it’s far better to express these desires than to act on them. Ye gawds, this illness can be such a complicated m*f’er. Thanks for listening.

 


Depression, Suicide and Gene Simmons

According to a Fact Sheet from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, suicide was the tenth leading cause of death for all ages in 2010. There were 38,364 suicides in 2010 in the United States–an average of 105 each day. Having bipolar disorder, depression has a major impact on my life. Standing on the […]

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Robin Williams ~ His Death From A Different Perspective

This is a link to great, in my opinion, commentary about Robin William’s suicide. It is written very sensitively with a great deal of respect for the actor as a human being. as well as the humanity of all of us. … Continue reading

Twelve Pack of Anxiety

No spawn last night meant I finally got my first good night’s sleep in, well, years. I didn’t intend to sleep until after 1pm, though, but she wasn’t back yet so not like it mattered.

Then I tried to call my dad to see what time they’d be bring her back. No answer. Tried stepmonster’s phone. Nothing. Tried brother’s cell ‘cos what teenager doesn’t answer their phone unless they’re dead? Nada.
Enter major panic and paranoia. I knew something had to be wrong. They had my kid! What if…began to kick my ass. The professionals can call it pessimistic thinking but the fact remains, shit happens. All the time. Bad stuff happens all the fucking time.
This threw me so far off my game all I could do was chainsmoke and pace, feeling lost.
Then finally dad called to tell me she was fine, they’d just gone out of cell service zone and were on their way back. Taking my kid out of state. GEESH. I was relieved, though irked as fuck that they hadn’t even informed me. Those people are one of my major anxiety triggers because they don’t get it and won’t even try to show a little compassion and consideration. In their mind, I am just being silly.
And perhaps I hit the panic button too soon. Sue me for caring about my kid.

After that, it wasn’t a bad day. Bex and I got some groceries. Though something keeps knocking the circuit out in the kitchen and shutting down the fridge, so having food that could thaw and go bad makes me nervous. It’s always something going wrong with this fucking place or with my car, which pulled its flooding thing Friday and instigated panicpalooza. Just once I’d like to have a week without some sort of calamity.

Tomorrow is Spook’s first day of kindergarten. I am gonna stick her on the bus and hope for the best. My understanding is, once she’s on the bus she’s their responsibility so if she gets lost…LAWSUIT, motherfuckers. She’s just 5 and they want her to be ready for fucking college already. I’m all for her being taught responsibility and shit as she gets older but the current regime pisses me off. Let’s give them a college workload but treat them like precious snowflakes who might get a sniffle if not slathered daily in antibacterial gel and wipes.

Yeah. Mommy has serious fucking issues.

I’m so keyed up, you’d think tomorrow was my first day of school. It’s my norm, though, I don’t do deviation and I don’t adapt to change easily or well.

Think my biggest issue is getting up in time to feed her, get her dressed, and down to the bus stop. I’m not good under pressure and time tables and schedules make me feel like I am in a pressure cooker. Plus, it puts me out of control, and as a control freak goddess, that throws me off kilter.
Me, me, me. Well, my kid is an extroverted social butterfly so I don’t really worry about her adapting. Though she did tell me she already doesn’t like it because they have rules. Made me laugh. The rule she’s worried most about? The part about “use the restroom, wash your hands quickly, and return to your class immediately.” She likes to spend ten minutes playing with soap bubbles as handwashing. Again, she made me laugh.
As long as she can make it through the first week without me being called in because she acted out or something…We should be golden.

Or so I pray to whatever deity exists.