Daily Archives: January 22, 2016

Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere Too Soon

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We is snowed in!

Well…I had to break my blogging policy of only one post per day for this one.

Accuweather says it’s going to start snowing again in a few minutes, so we ran outside so Atina could pee and I could wrestle with the back door to get another bag of her food out.

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Atina makes sure there are no boogey-people lurking around

One good thing is, we don’t have to step down to get out of the van.  On the other hand, If we get the additional 8 inches that’s predicted, we won’t be able to get the side door open at all!

That’d be almost as bad as the time we got bogged down in cow manure out in New Mexico.  Fortunately there was some handy cut brush lying around, and I shoved that under the wheels and got out of there.

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Ol' Jenny is hibernating

One good thing, all that snow and ice makes good insulation.


Why?

Bipolar

 

I know it has been forever that I have posted anything to this blog. I have been busy trying to build a healthy romantic relationship as opposed to the most recent one that is discussed in some detail in this blog. Mostly, I have been finding myself asking “why?” a lot recently. Why would anyone want to love a person who has to hide the severity of her illness from everyone so she won’t get hospitalized again? Why was it me that was predisposed to the genes the scientific world believes helps cause manic depression? Why wasn’t it my sister? I realize that is horribly mean and somewhat despicable, but it is how I feel.

I feel cheated. I feel betrayed by nature. I feel angry that I have to wake up in the mornings crying if it is a bad day, and bored out of mind if it is a good one. I hate that I have to take anti-psychotic medication to just keep me in mixed-episode world. Who knows what that stuff is doing to me? I hate mixed-episode world where I am manically depressed (or depressively manic) all the time. But, I guess it achieves some sort of “stability.” 

I ask if I am ever going to achieve recovery, or anything more than a partial remission of symptoms. It seems as if, just when things in my weird little world are starting to appear normal, I have to wake up one morning and find the whole normalcy thing was a malicious figment of my imagination. I am afraid to lose this new (1 year old) relationship by being too clingy, too needy, too moody, too weird, too whatever makes people run from me as if I have rabies or some other contagious disease. I hate this life. While I know that sounds ungrateful to those people who do not struggle with mood disorders, it isn’t really. I would just prefer a different one because I really hate the having to struggle to appear normal. I hate the fact that my eyes no longer light up when I smile. I hate the damage I have caused people. I hate the damage I have caused myself. I hate the fact that if you really look at me, you see someone who is haunted by her own mind. I just really wish this wasn’t my life. It was not the way it was supposed to work out.

Filed under: anger, Bipolar Disorder Tagged: Manic Depression

Cashing In On Postpartum Depression, Hypomania, Star Wars’ Maz & More

  Maz This has been an eventful week….in both good ways, bad ways and odd ways! GOOD: Star Wars: The Force Awakens Connection On Monday I took my girls to see Star Wars: The Force Awakens. I saw the first Star Wars long ago when I was seven-years-old. It was released in May, 1977. I … Continue reading Cashing In On Postpartum Depression, Hypomania, Star Wars’ Maz & More

Hello, Winter!

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This is the view from inside my cozy camper.  It’s kind of like being in an igloo.  The layers of ice and snow help insulate and retain the heat inside, which is a good thing, because my propane tank only holds 8 gallons and it’s gotta last till next week, or till I can get out of here, whichever comes first.

Thankfully we still have electricity in the campground, which means I can run my electric heater and save the propane for when the ice takes the power out.  I’m pretty sure it’s going to be “when,” not “if.”  The governor of NC is pretty sure, too, because s/he (I don’t keep up on politics) has invited 500 Floridian power company workers to join ours.  I like that.  Hope Florida has enough left, because they had tornadoes again last night in the Panhandle.

Atina the awesome Malinois had a blast romping in the snow this morning.  Glad I got her out before it started sleeting.  I took a blast of sleet in the face (the only part of me that was exposed–mask, next time I emerge).  The Doggess stretched out and ran like a deer through the snow-blanketed field.

Now it’s howling and spitting icicles, to paraphrase Carl Sandburg.  Miss Dog is lying on my foot, sulking.  She wants to go out.

That won’t happen until it decides to snow again, or even give us a precipitation break.  Till then, we stay cozy and warm in our igloo.

I have a lot to do this afternoon.  I can’t decide whether to proceed with my project of going through everything and finding stuff I don’t need, in order to lighten my load a bit; or to start a new project making covers for all the windows and skylights out of Reflectix, a marvelous material resembling bubble wrap covered with Mylar.  It repels both heat and cold, so it’s good for both summer and winter climate control.

It’s clear that I need to start a new blog dedicated to my Roadtrek travels.  If the power stays on, I hope to embark upon that project this weekend.  Themes, themes, themes.  I need to find a really good photography theme, because I need to start seriously marketing my photos in order to finance my travels.  I haven’t even posted my “real” photography on this site, because I want to mostly stay on topic.  Anybody got good photog theme ideas?

Spoke with The Boy couple days ago.  Sheesh.  He is not at all sorry that he threw his mother out at Thanksgiving.  At least I got a better sense of where he’s at, and why he did it.

He’s angry that I am a nomad by nature, that I don’t have a house with a front porch with a swing and the aroma of baking chocolate chip cookies wafting on the air. 

He wants me to have a place where he can come and visit me, and have a cozy bed to sleep in, and not have to camp on a deck and pee over a cliff and crap in an incinerating toilet.

I reminded him that this was only the case because I returned to the States to take care of his grandfather, and was living in his Grandpa’s studio. 

And before that I lived in Jerusalem, in a three story house, had a full-time acupuncture practice, was a leader in my community…HAD a community, fer krissake. 

And despite many invitations and offers to pay tickets he wouldn’t visit me there.

“No, I WOULDN’T,” he said emphatically. 

I didn’t need to ask why not.

He didn’t approve of me doing such a radical thing, moving so far away (as if he visits me that often anyway), putting myself in danger…God in heaven, what did I do to merit having a child who has judged me and disapproved of my life choices since he was a baby, and expressed his displeasure by refusing to participate, refusing to enjoy the various adventures that could have been so much fun if only he had made the leap and decided to be a mentsch instead of a lead weight to drag around?

(A mentsch, for those who aren’t familiar, is Yiddish for “man,” literally, but in common usage means “a regular guy,” “a good person”.)

Hell’s bells, one time I schlepped (dragged) him out to Antelope Island, which sits in the middle of the Great Salt Lake in Utah, with his horse and my horse and the Corgi.

I unloaded the horses from the trailer.

“Saddle up,” I sang out happily.  I was looking forward to the four-hour ride on the island trail, where a herd of American Bison roam, as well as marmots, jackrabbits, coyotes, hawks, eagles, and many other interesting things.

He was about eleven, and much larger than me.  He crossed his arms and scowled.

“Saddle up,” I instructed.  No response.

So I saddled his mare for him.  Mine was already stamping impatiently, ready to hit the trail.

“Mount up,” I sang, ignoring the fact that I had saddled up for him.

No response.

“Well, I’m damned if I’m going to miss my ride just because you’ve stubbed up.  If you refuse to come, you can damn well spend four hours in the trailer with the dog.  And don’t you dare go near the lake!”

I unsaddled his mare, got the dog dish and water bottles out of the cab of the truck, tied his mare to the trailer, mounted up, and had a very pleasant four hour ride around the island.

When I got back to the truck he was sitting in the shade with the dog inside the trailer.   The mare was munching at her hay bag.  Without a word, he climbed up into the cab while I loaded the horses.  When we got home (to the real house) he took himself to his room and was not seen till dinner.

That’s been my life since he was a baby.  There have been times when I really wanted to give him away.

He got somewhat better after wilderness therapy and therapeutic boarding school.  In fact, I really thought the values he learned there had stuck, but I guess they’ve worn off.

Well, now that he’s 30, there’s nothing I can do but live my life on my own terms.  As they say in New England, “If he don’t like it, he can lump it.”


how do we solve a problem like blahpolar?

I was just sitting in the u-bend, thinking about death. (Moaning Myrtle, Harry Potter & the Chamber of Secrets) I take 150mg of clozapine at 8am and 200mg at 8pm. For the afternoon abyss, there’s sulpuride prn as a safety net. As for the future, it depends on whether certain side effects of clozapine cease. … Continue reading how do we solve a problem like blahpolar?

The History of Bipolar Disorder Infographic

History of Bipolar Disorder


Rapid Cycling Tempered With Suicidal Ideation and Clarity (TW)

TRIGGER WARNING — mentions of suicidal ideation and self-harm thoughts

not giving up

I have been pondering doing ECT again for the past several days.  According to my mood tracker app, I have had six days in a row now where I have struggled desperately with suicidal and self-harm thoughts.  Had I been using the app for even longer, it would have shown some seriously ridiculous rapid cycling.  The up, the down, it never ends.  This last stretch has been particularly difficult.

I have opted not to go to the hospital or the crisis house, mostly because it is too hard to be away from my natural support system.  With the near-constant help from LarBear, and lots of support from Mom and Dad, and the support of friends, I have managed to stay safe.  There have been many times where I was *almost* not safe, and there was some self-harm behavior that I DID engage in, but I am still standing, still in once piece.  Upright, as I told a friend yesterday.

golden gate

And that’s the truth — there isn’t anything in my life that isn’t *fixable*.  Unfortunately, it isn’t a “magic wand” kind of fix or a pill I can take or a therapy I can do.  It is all, I believe, a mixture of many things that keep me alive and keep me from making that final step into the abyss.  I hover over the line, testing my toes across the edge, but I consistently pull back.

Because LarBear.

Because Kizzie.

Because my mom and my dad and my sister.

Because Oscar.

Whatever the “because” is, it doesn’t really matter.  What matters is that I still have a “because,” and even several of them.  Even at my very worst, I can almost always keep in mind that I don’t want to leave these precious people behind.  It is a blessing that I can think this way, and it is only when I am unable to see their importance in my life that I will put myself into a hospital or a crisis house.

Oscar’s birthday was the 19th, and I meant to do a birthday post for him, but mentally wasn’t up to it.  I am going to try and crank one out in the next day or so anyway — he is two years old now, so I am pretty sure he won’t judge me too harshly for not being on time.

Yes, because Oscar.

Yes, because my sister.

Thank you, baby Jesus, that I have my family, that I have my LarBear, that I have my friends.  Without them, things would be very grim indeed.

And KINDNESS.  No, kindness is not overrated.  It is simple, while being complex, and is really so VERY easy, even though sometimes it’s hard.  So, because kindness.  You never know what someone is going through, right at this moment.  Be kind.  Smile at someone.  You could save a life, without knowing it.  I know I have seen some smiles in my life that have kept me from wrapping my car around a bridge abutment, from stepping out a window, from picking up that instrument of self-harm.  It really can do it.  Please smile at someone today.

lightens the burdens

 

 

 


Filed under: And Sometimes It Just Spins Tagged: anxiety, Bipolar, depression, kindness, mental illness, mental-health, mixed episode, PTSD, self harm, smile, suicidal ideation, suicide

iJinxed

Pardon me, DSM (Douchebaggery Simpleton Manual) but I AM gonna vent how tragedy that doesn’t involve me…

still makes me feel “Involved” , even if only in a jinxed way.

After learning of my brother’s best friend dying in a car crash at age 19…I called my mom today to find her in tears for her roommate of 19 years is essentially drowning in the fluid of her own lungs and there’s nothing else medicine can do for her. She is dying. The only thing up in the air is whether the hospital will send her home to die…or keep her there to die.

And while I feel bad for it all…Which is an accomplishment, considering  how lithium sucks out all emotion…

My second thought is always, me me me me.

Because if the roommate passes, her car that they all use, will get repo’d..and that  means the car I am driving, in my mother’s  name, will be demanded back thus leaving me and Spook screwed cos…”Your sister has a job to get to.”

Throw in my anxiety over tomorrow’s court hearing (even though the lawyer said I won’t be expected to do a thing)…

Volatile Femmes, I am gonna need Mangoritas, ,menthols, and a bulletproof fort blankie.

So much tragedy and so much sadness but I can’t feel appropriately thanks to lithium. I am TRYING to be empathetic, sympathetic, NOT a self absorbed monster…

But to be honest…when I am sweating every cent worth of gas to get my kid to school, when I don’t have a quarter to “rent” a cart at Aldi cos I gave my last quarter to my kid for her school’s lollipop day…

The dying and dead are not within my control.

But failing my kid, not having the cents just to go grocery shopping….

I am okay being self absorbed.

My maternal grandmother passed away on my second birthday. Not the day before or after. ON my birthday. Which means for 43 birthdays I have essentially been tormented by the notion that my mom has to be torn between celebrating my birth…or mourning the death of her own mother.

In light of all this tragedy the last two days and my birthday is tomorrow…

It isn’t narcissism.

I have always felt jinxed.

This current plague of sucky tragedies is not changing my view  a bit.