Daily Archives: July 13, 2015

Quickly, before the sweat on my legs fries the laptop!

Oh, yes, summer has finally arrived carrying a flamethrower of humidity so even when it’s not scorching hot…I’m still moist and sweaty. I have no air. Well, actually, I have central air, it just doesn’t work. I also have three window units but oh, wait, place isn’t wired to handle running more than one at a time. And oh, there’s more…I have no outlet to plug into because the landlord won’t fix the fried one…So lots of fans, cool down showers, and sweaty bitchiness is in my future. After needing a sweater for three days last week. No wonder my seasonal is hanging around and reading the newspaper while flipping me off. Meds can’t cure the fucking weather.

AND THERE IT IS. I have been assimilated by the midwest to now discuss the bleeding weather. Though it’s less a discussion and more a “if I seem more bitchy and misanthropic, it’s because I am marinating in my own sweat” explanation.

Yesterday was…Hot. Sticky. Ran an errand, only to remember it was Sunday and everything opens late. I swore a lot. Wasting the gas, and spork, and having to venture ut again into the dish really pissed me off. I didn’t even think. And that’s becoming the norm, like I am blanking out. This morning, Spook told me a cat was trying to claw its way in the back door. I figured it was one of the ferals. I opened the door and this little black kitten was battling to climb inside and I looked at it dead on and thought, how bizarre, the ferals won’t come near us.

It took me a whole thirty seconds to figure out it was Brimstone, one of our indoor kittens, who somehow got out. So no like me to not do a morning head count of my cats, even less like me not to recognize one I’ve raised from birth. Maybe I have a brain goblin or dementia. It was just scary to be so blank. I felt shitty, too, for not recognizing him.

I don’t recognize me anymore, either. I swore to never become a frump. I lied to myself. Or more aptly, the depression put me in a place to not give a fuck. When it takes four sporks to get out the door, it doesn’t leave much beyond making sure you don’t reek and have shoes on.

I’ve noticed I have a couple of blog award nominations, I will tend to those later. Today I am humoring R with my lunch companionship. Joy, joy. Spook will be at my mom’s getting tainted into more of an ungrateful brat. On the plus side, she’s staying the night so if I can survive the dish…I can come home and blog without MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY as my soundtrack. It’s supposed to be 94 today, hopefully my computers don’t melt in their plastic casings.

Let’s see…If I try reeeeally hard I can find a couple of positive things, surely…

Oh, yes, my dad brought us sweet corn on the cob from his garden…And I’ll be damned if Spook didn’t eat four pieces and love it. I could have fainted from shock after years of her saying corn is gross. That kind of talk will get you tossed out of the midwest! (I wish.)

Oh, and Absinthe slept with me (as did my kid, but by 11, I would’ve done anything to make her go to sleep) and she was an absolute cuddle bug. I took half a Melatonin, started to nod off,woke. And she was still purring. I sat up and took the the other, got some dirty looks from her, but she returned to sleep in the crook of my neck. AWWWW. I woke several more times, so not even Melatonin helps beyond making me sleepy enough to nod off. If a purring kitty can’t keep me soothed and asleep…

I was gonna be positive wasn’t I. Hmm. Yeah, that went out the window when my kid woke me at 5 a.m. and started in with “Is it time to go to grandmas yet.”

Ok, I gotta do the clothes thing and face this dish thing. Eating lunch with another human being as a nasty task to be dealt with. I am a special kind of fucked up.


Insomnia has got to be one of my least favorite symptoms of the Bipolar/PTSD/Various Anxiety disorders filled world that I live in. I hate not being able to sleep, although I have had this problem since I was a child (I was the kid reading under the covers until the wee hours). I know all […]

mental health blog award

Tessa can do it did it (thankies). I’d like to accept this award on behalf of all the goblins who work tirelessly behind the scenes of my blog. Without ever complaining, they shovel coal to keep the widgets running smoothly, they hold the header image up, empty the ashtrays, fake the hit count and iron their own tiny uniforms. Gotta love goblins.

Even I can’t be churlish enough to subvert this one. Anyway, I’ve run out of churls.

Chk chk BOOM, without further rambling nonsense ado, I give you… The Rules!


Place this award somewhere on your website.
*moves a china carthorse, a whimsical statuette of a milkmaid, three dead moths and a cobweb, blows the dust away and carefully places the award on the mantlepiece* And by that I mean, *looks balefully at the geocities style award image and trudges off to cobble together  a new one*

Nominate five bloggers who promote Mental Health awareness to receive this award.
It’s an honour just being able to nominate them. This also marks a new era of nominatory policy around here. Continuing my tradition of reviewing anything that stands still long enough, I’m going to start explaining my nominations and describing my nominees in a little more detail.

Give reasons for your nominations.


And the theme is… Bloggers with the word ‘bipolar’ in their usernames. In no particular order:

Bipolar Barbie-Q, whose blog never sleeps. You’ll find solid fact, honest writing and lines like this one… I realized something while my mind was hosting a tea party with its mind teddy bears … and posts like this one.

Bipolar Brainiac, whose about page is a force 10 rush through her own resume and how to tackle bipolar. She not only blogs her own process and progress, she also engages with news and views of bipolar.

Bipolar Whispers has a warm blog that wants to help you. Have a look at her three part being a mom with mental illness, for example, which is honest, interesting and insightful.

Pieces of Bipolar was one of my first followers and she’s a fellow Saffer (*airpunch*). She’s ruthlessly honest about journalling her own bipolar. For an example of brutal honesty, read this.

Brighton Bipolar  blogs about bipolar, fights stigma and writes about her own issues too. She’s also an abuse survivor. Aaaand she received this very award recently, but idc, she’s having it again.

Ask not what mental health can do for you, ask what you can do for mental health.

Hypomania…the strange and horrible Gift of Bipolar


Possibly the best description of hypomania ever written. This is from a cyberfriend I met at Psych Central and it’s just fantastic. Enjoy!

Originally posted on Bipolar First Bipolar Together:

***I suppose this could be a potential trigger if you want to go off meds for mania or something.  Do not do that.  That is not safe as i will point out.****


our compensation prize

Hypomania is those first warm days of spring when life seems new and fresh

trees abloom

deep inhales of intoxicating sun washed air

tingles down your spine at the anticipation..joyous anticipation of the mundane and the miraculous

Hypomania is

the fluttering in your stomach when the person you like says they like you too…

the flying certain feeling that life is aligning the stars ashining

It is that first soft sweater in the Fall…

those first days of the rebirth of the darkness after the burnt out summer when cozy is just the thing

golden trees reds jeweled all above and all ablaze

hints of woodsmoke through the woods …from neighboring houses

crackling golden…

View original 768 more words

Make Your Weird Light Shine Bright

Filed under: acceptance, appreciation, being okay with one’s self

My PMAD (Perinatal Mood & Anxiety Disorder) Gets No Respect! Part One


My friend Dyane’s exhaustive review of what is and in not Postpartum Bipolar Disorder!

Originally posted on Birth of a New Brain:


Happy Thursday, my friends! Thanks for stopping by!

Since 2013 I’ve abstained from writing this post because I worried it wouldn’t apply or appeal to most of you, even if you have bipolar disorder. But I decided to finally spill the beans. Why? Because it feels good, it’s free, and most importantly, there’s the chance this information may be relevant to a reader.

Postpartum bipolar disorder is often ignored or misunderstood by the postpartum and bipolar communities. It helps to know what postpartum bipolar disorder is, exactly, as different definitions are floating around the world.

So here goes – a little bit ‘o explanation – PPBD 101, if you will! ;)

My mood disorder postpartum bipolar disorder (PPBD) is also sometimes referred to as postpartum onset bipolar disorder. While I’m currently seeking a more recent statistic, in 2008 it was found in the United States that 29 out of 1000 women were affected by…

View original 816 more words

“Almost Cut My Hair” ~ Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

“Almost cut my hair It happened just the other day, it’s gettin’ kinda long I could-a said ”It wasn’t in my way’ But I didn’t and I wonder why, I feel like letting my freak flag fly…..” Ctosby, Stills, Nash & Young ~ “Almost Cut My Hair” on Deja VuFiled under: “normal”? Tagged: Conviction, Protest, […]