Tag Archives: society

Physical Distractions

Today, my body seems to be out to get me. One of my knees decided it was on strike, while the foot on the other leg is doing some weird things. Maybe I twisted funny in my sleep? I’ll tough it out and walk it out as I always do, but it bemuses me nonetheless. Then comes the menstrual cycle, which I will not explain in detail — it suffices to say that it is rather severe and even a bit horrifying to me. There’s a little bit of a headache, and one of my toenail beds feels like it needs some poking, if the bit of pain down there is any indication.

The upshot is that it does a great job silencing my brain. Now, I would definitely not seek out pain intentionally; I don’t like hurting any more than most people do. I was never a self-harmer in the cutting or self-injury sense — I instead relied on booze and drugs and the like to muffle the hateful sound my brain would make at me. It’s sad how common that is, but then, many societies would rather pretend that mental illnesses and the like don’t exist, but hey, drinking is social… right? Right? *shakes head*

But yeah, seeing how right now I don’t know if I’m coming up or down, I’m going to be thankful to every little thing, even grumping knees, if they keep my brain from finding things to be pissy about. There is a LOT of fodder out there right now, so… thank you, gimp knee and headache? *laughs*

Anyways, back to earning mah keep!

<3

Eh

Today continues the same old same old blech-esque grind. I’ve got exactly two things that I want to get done today, and I’ll consider it a very good day indeed if they both get done. Of course, that requires finding an iota of motivation…

*peers around*

Nope, ha ha. Still, one thing can be said for today — I guess I physically feel less depressed? It’s probably more that I’m getting used to being down so it doesn’t seem so severe, which means it will find a way to come around and bite me on the ass. It doesn’t help that I am stymied in regard to options I can do past what I’m already doing to fight back. I’m not about to cut out refined sugars and sodas because that is my one remaining vice after cutting out drugs, booze, smoking, sleeping around, and surely some other destructive behaviors that I can’t even remember at this point. I’m sure there are probably people out there who just roll their eyes and wonder why I won’t take the final step in ‘getting healthy’, but sod ‘em, ha ha. We’re all allowed a little vice in our lives, else what is the point of living?

Having said that, it’s obvious that one should be mindful of their vice, especially as ties to depression. I’ve been slightly alarmed lately that I’m developing depressive eating habits; I want to stuff my face with junk. This has never been an issue in the past, and I can only guess that it’s rising as a possible problem because I’ve cut off all the other things. It definitely encourages me to plan self-advocacy to get more help for the depressive phases that make up most of the time of existing with Bipolar II, ’cause that’s just not  on. I savvy it’s a control thing, and probably definitely related to my desire to take smoking back up. Too bad e-cigs don’t scratch that itch right at all.

Anyways, all isn’t lost, because I have awareness. And awareness means that I can try to apply my super-power of self-control to avoid doing any real self-harm. I can always remind myself of that — I have made it most of the way to this point on my own steam, for better or worse. I know it’s harder now when it should be easier because I’m forced to be aware of just where I am and what little resources I actually have at my beck and call, but I shouldn’t let that get me down.

Off to try to get one of the two things on my list done. Hope everyone is having a decent day.

<3

Down in the Bottom Of a…

I’m depressed; there’s no way around it. I don’t know how depressed I am or how much worse it might get, but the fact of the matter is that I am in a depressed state and have been for a few weeks now.

I was talking to one of my dear friends on the back of yesterday’s post, when she pointed out that my medicine is probably not doing the job based on how much depression I’m still dealing with. And maybe she has a point, but I can’t fully agree quite yet. I don’t know what my baseline is. I don’t know what my bottom line is — I have only had this past year medicated in which to determine where the lines might be. I think the bottoms are higher than they used to be, if only for the fact I don’t feel the need as strongly to dive down a bottle, or across a spliff. But that could also be a product of being able to apply more of my self-control in that regard; I know I’d still like to drink and do drugs on one level, but the dearth of benefits are much clearer from this vantage. I know that many choose to self-medicate because I have done it in my past, and because of that, I choose to not behave in a sanctimonious manner to those who do still. We have to do what we can do to get by, and it’s definitely not a pretty stretch of choices for the oh-so-fun invisible mental illnesses.

I still want to smoke though… I’m not sure that desire will ever go away. It was the ultimate spot fix. Thankfully, it costs too much here to be a real temptation.

She had a point regardless, though — I do need to relate to my doctor that my bottom line needs more support. While the day-to-day fluctuations are managed to a point that I can keep myself mainly afloat, it’s not managed if I’m still dealing with lots of depression. I admit that I’m a bit nervous about the ‘promotion’ to cocktail though… I don’t think anyone with any sort of illness wakes up thinking, “Hooray, today I will add another wiggling jiggling bit of uncertainty to my pile!” But it’s worth it if it helps me continue to improve my quality of life. If it will work. I just… uncertainty isn’t fun, but neither are my brain’s bag of dirty tricks.

<3

Not Fit for Normal Consumption

I’m slowly coming to the realization that I probably will never be able to use Facebook like most people do, because it is the bastion of the normal. Your mother is probably on there, your boss is probably on there, and even if you’re good with lists and whom you friend, you’re going to probably end up with a weird cross-section of life. Usually I relish this, but it’s too chaotic, and frankly crap in that place.

I’m coming to this realization because it seems that no matter what I post, some not-that-thinking person will post something in reply that will set me off. It doesn’t matter how innocuous my post might be — there is always someone out there ready to rush in and shove their foot in their mouth. And worst of all, I have that ‘joy’ of constantly feeling like it’s my fault because my brain isn’t wired like theirs. Having said that, I don’t overly blame me, and even try to consider other peoples’ viewpoints; after all, we ourselves are generally the funniest and smartest people we know. After all, we know what makes ourselves laugh, and woe betide those who disagree… or something.

Still, it leaves me in a painful bind — do I pretend to be what I am not to appease the masses, or do I stay true unto myself? The answer is obvious to me — to lie is to make me want to kill myself. To be true is perilous because it is so stressful that other people have whacked-out standardized expectations, but at least I know that I’m being myself. I just… I don’t know, wish I could be the open book I consider myself to be without risking so much freaking pain. As I put it to something yesterday — I don’t have the spoons to deal with other peoples’ crap, especially when it shouldn’t be in my space in the first place.

Anyways, I don’t know what to add past this bit of venting. I’ve got the chemical sad feeling going through my veins again atop the existing depression, so it’s not exactly ideal. I’m still fighting it and wondering how bad it can get. It’s maintained low-level for this month, after all, but that could just as easily mean that I’ve got a few months of this crap before nudging back up. It probably does mean that, the slow slide deeper and darker. Nothing to do for it but to keep gritting my teeth, and trying to mend and make do with what I have. Hopefully having the better part of a week off to slack will give my brain some space to flop out and quit being crappy, yanno, instead of finding more dark holes to dive into. Blah blah, I’m shaking the tiny fist of impotent rage, blah blah.

But still, hope all of y’all out there are doing okay.

<3

Spoonless Imperfection

When I was in school, I was one of those super-bright, top of the standardized tests awesome kids. I was straight As all the way through elementary school, a couple of Bs in junior high, and a slinking by C student in high school. Teachers often made over my standardized test scores, to include once incident in high school where a teacher was expressing her frustration that I should have been valedictorian based on those and why wasn’t I doing well in her class (a class I didn’t want to take and got dumped into… hrm).

Of course, high school is where my spoons completely vanished. The month before I started saw me getting strep throat so severe I couldn’t eat (and incidentally lost weight I couldn’t really afford to lose), and I should have taken it as an omen for the following four years. As it were, because I’m ‘hyper’, teachers blamed me for corrupting other students, got my on my case because I wasn’t top of the class like they felt I should be, and oh… nobody asked me how I was doing. Ever. Ever. It gave me a deep-seated loathing for organized education; why would I want to be in a system where instructors are denigrating and dismissing me rather than trying to see if maybe, just maybe, I needed help. No, I didn’t turn the entire band onto drugs. No, I was not a drug dealer. No, you shouldn’t tell my best friend to shun me because I’m ‘obviously’ a bad influence (hint: he was ‘bad’ on his own steam before me met me, bless his sweet butt).

Add in the fact that my mother was on my case non-stop for not doing well enough either. I strongly suspect she too has bipolar, but I can’t exactly convince her to go and seek help (even though I am confident if she did, her quality of life would be vastly improved, as mine has been). I also strongly feel that she was trying to live vicariously through me, so I got a lot of negative messages and a severe dearth of the positive reinforcement that I direly need to get by. That isn’t to say that I want people making sweet noises of falsehood at me, but if say, you found something I said to be clever or enlightening, it does my soul good to hear it. Or in those cases of old, that I wasn’t stupid — my personal armor chink is my intelligence. One of my younger sisters is reputed to have a 196 IQ, schools tried to put her into the same grade as me, and when I needed to be told that I was smart on my own steam, I was often told to go away. The combination was toxic, and it’s only been in the past year or two that I’ve had the strength and space to analyze and work this particular problem. It’s not gone away yet, but at least I can function without say, burning holes in my work because I couldn’t complete it and I was forced to turn it in (which happened a few times with math assignments; in my head, the assignment was not complete unless it was completed, ergo, turning it in incomplete was not an option). Ju

To be fair to my parents, I’m not sure anything could have been done to help me at that juncture. We had no spare money and nothing much resembling health care (USA! USA! *snorts*), and even if we had, I would have been less than cooperative due to being threatened with both military school and asylums (trufax) because I wouldn’t talk about my feelings. THAT skill wasn’t developed until my 20s, and it was hard won. But all in all, I’d pretty much given up on life at that point. I wasn’t suicidal, but just… I already felt that I was condemned to a life of drudgery and no point. The few times I braved up enough to try and talk about me and my feelings, I was brushed off universally. While I am a supporter of humour as a coping mechanism, it’s one thing when you’re doing it for yourself, another when everyone around you is cracking jokes to change the subject from you having feels.

Anyways, where was I going with this… I guess to say that first of all, kids and teens are actual people with feelings and they need to feel safe to express them. I never did, and felt that every single person in my life of all ages had expressly made it clear that my feelings were invalid (something I’m only managing to counteract oh… this year). Applying high standards externally is brutish and asinine; one should perhaps encourage others in their lives to develop their own high standards, but not force them to meet bars they might not have the spoons to ever reach. And, of course, from my late great grandfather – never assume anything, lest you make an ass out of ‘u’ and me. Just because someone in your life, whatever age, seems to have it together and be a ball of sunshine, it might not be true. I know myself that I have been a victim of my own self-control for all of my life, and have taken a lot of attacks from people who think that I’m a safe target who can take their ire. That all ties into the golden rule of ‘Be excellent to each other’, which yanno… it supposedly made the world a utopia in the Bill & Ted universe, so why not in ours too?

And as that is quite a long bit of babble, I will go ahead and leave on that not, and wish everyone a pleasant weekend, happy holidays, etc. I’ll surely be writing more in the next couple of days as the mood takes me, but yanno… doesn’t hurt to keep wishing the good feelings onwards.

<3

Okay (Unfiltered)

As I’m feeling decently balanced and human today, there’s not much to impart. I know it’s not true balance, ’cause I snapped at someone over a triviality last night, but it’s close enough. And, to be fair, the person was being slightly pushy, so my response was sort of warranted.

I think about filters a lot lately, and my lack thereof. I have people in my life who are often put out because I don’t want them enthusing at me, or filling my space with ambiguous angry. I think most of us with bipolar would agree that our state is easily polluted by these things, and that while I don’t think any of us would ask people to deny themselves their full range of emotions and experiences, I bet a lot of us would be happier if people did it outside of our bubble. Having said that, I can deal with peoples’ emotions if I’m being their therapist quack, but that’s obviously a very certain situation, and it’s not foolproof either.

And, of course, it’s not just emotions, but definitely experiences and people and well… everything. I was talking to my youngest sister the other day and filling her in on bits of family history that she wasn’t aware of. Oh, she was around for some of it, but she fully admitted that her filtering works fine (lucky dear!) and that she’s often amazed by the depth and breadth of my remembrance.  Our other sister has historically accused me of making things up, which is only valid insomuch that all memories are faulty and are shifted and recoloured by each remembrance. I know my own recollection of things tends to be murkier and probably more paranoid than it actually occurred, but then, that’s the filter under which I am stuck labouring more often than not. I’m still fairly confident that I have the facts and details right, but then, so do everyone else, ha ha.

I think that my filtering situation is probably compounded by my introversion, though. Mind you, I said introverted — I am neither shy, nor socially inept. Friends who have spent time with me are often surprised by my assertion because of those two facts (though I feel that education on the subject of introversion has been on the rise lately, and lo, it is good!). I think it’s fair to say that being introverted, peoples’ energy and extroversion is draining enough. Add that to the commonalities of bipolar, and it’s a pretty nasty mix to swallow on the regular. I don’t know about anyone else, but this emphatically extends to online activities; even if it’s ‘merely’ text, I have always been very sensitive to the energies behind it (to a degree that I have been accused of making it up or overreacting on numerous occasions). Maybe I have, or maybe I’ve just given more power to other people. I refuse to think of people online as non-existent; everyone behind the words is a person with feelings, and deserve to be treated as such. Sometimes I am not gentle, but then, that’s probably an extension of how ungentle I am unto myself — I am sure very few people realize just what a whip-cracking bitch I am to keep myself in some semblance of order. ;)

Anyways, that’s ramble enough. Hope everyone is having a nice day.

<3

Depression Rising

I don’t feel depressed, mind you, but my brain made it clear that we’re moving that way by dint of dreaming. As I’ve mentioned before (I think), my brain tends to get focused on squishy affections and dream-based make-outs based around one of my friends from high school. While it’s all euphoric and sweet and enjoyable, it’s always a clear sign that my brain is trying to stab me in the back. I’m not one of those people who is in a relationship and thinks of others; while there is nothing wrong with that or polyamory (which I am very supportive of for those who are mature enough to make it work), they’re not for me. So I will have to continue being wary and careful, because to do otherwise is to almost invite disaster upon my head. So here’s my reminder to me – think thrice before you speak or type!

And on the subject of not feeling depressed, I’m having a ‘busy’ morning for me. I bathed (always a challenge in the face of constant depression), I went downstairs to turn in and collect my prescription, and I bought myself chunky yarn to make myself a new hat. I’ve already done a bit of crochet this morning, and should shortly finish off a hat for a Christmas gift (I’m making a matched set for my mother-in-law and daughter, ’cause that’s cheesetastically affectionate). I’m also continuing to hope that I’ll make more progress on finishing off my NaNoWriMo story; I’ve written a couple of hundred of words this week, but that’s obviously nothing on the thousands written last month. There’s really not super duper loads to finish, so my complete lack of motivation is slightly annoying. Having said that, I’m still amazed that I won; even knowing I was only trying because I had the feeling I’d have the spoons to pull it off, it’s still sort of a oO-esque looking back for me.

Past that, I shall refrain from commenting on current public events. I think everyone understands that my stance is for significant improvements in mental health care and education, but that is tied to all things, not just happenings in the world that once again have people deciding all murderers are crazy, and all crazies are probably murderers. Plus yanno, evincing any sort of opinion past that in this volatile time is likely to be just the catalyst to trigger a severe depressive episode, so… yeah. *laughs*

<3

Getting Back on the Wagon

Every day, I mean to come here and update. I mean to come back and post daily and get back into the habit. Even if nothing much is going on, it’s a good record of my day-to-day mental health. Between my private blog, microblogging nightly to G+, and general busy-ness… well, excuses, excuses.

How am I today, then? I’m okay-ish. I’ve been rocking a cold for weeks, and maybe it’s lifting now… maybe. It’s hard to tell. My mood has stabilized out after it crashed post-NaNoWriMo… I think. I’ve had a few wobblies come my way by making the mistake of trying to share parts of my life on Facebook, but I’ve not decided if that’s going to deter me or not. Most of the people from ‘real’ life are there, so it would make sense that I’d try to share my life there. But it doesn’t feel worth it when people try to bully you into being mad with them, or others rush to be ‘helpful’. Dudes and dudelettes, when it is so easy to not give unsolicited advice, why are so many people still giving unsolicited advice? It’s as simple as ‘May I offer a suggestion?’, and waiting for the target to agree. The onus of receipt is then upon the target, making the giver seem like less of a jerkstore. But maybe that much deference and submission is too hard for many? Beats me. Not to say that I’ve not given unsolicited advice a time or two (we all do), but I mainly do my best to respect the desires, wishes, and autonomy of others.

I’m also bemused that me being honest about my mental health state is, apparently, me making excuses for my behavior. Funny, I didn’t think that trying to make clear my existence with Bipolar II and how I try to keep my life sane was a bad thing! Having said that, it could be a cultural or generational thing; even now, it’s considered ‘wrong’ to be open about your mental health issues. Which is silly to me. I have Bipolar II. I am not a murder, nor am I likely to ‘flip out’ and do something ‘crazy’. I am doing my part to put a face to mental health disorders and showing that, oh hey, even with the crippling depression I’m saddled with, I’m still living a full and productive life. I’m also honest about things that are problem spots, such as how the problems with continuing and recurrent depression will probably continue to sabotage my social abilities for the rest of my life. But in that, it also tells me who my ‘real’ friends are going to be when I need them, hee hee.

Anyhoos, that’s enough semi-babble for now. I need to finish my coffee, and try to ignore the stupid headache. I’ve been taking pain meds once a day for the past week because of it, and it annoys me due to the probable reduction in efficacy. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t right? Ah well. :)

<3

(Dys)Function

I think I tend to skirt around the worst parts of the never-ending war with my brain. As other sufferers know, it sounds whiny or drama queeny to evince the full depths of the pain, and why invite insult with candor? Even though I know it’s good for me to admit just how crap it is to war with my brain, I am sure people don’t want to know that my husband gets stuck carrying all the weight. That I spend most of my time in my computer chair because the thought of going anywhere else is too painful. That simple things like convincing myself to bathe are resounding victories.

And yet, skirting around these things is doing myself, and all my friends who have mental health problems a disservice. We are not lazy or bad people just because ablests cannot appreciate the misery that is being constantly at war with oneself, a war where we cannot lay down arms lest we be overrun. It’s sad, because at least 1 in 4 people will have some sort of mental health problem in their life, though thankfully not that many will have reoccuring problems. And there is also the fatal flaw that most of us fall victim to at times, and that is our conviction that if we can get over something or do something, then obviously everyone else can as well. We all do it time to time, but it’s definitely something that could stand to go away. It’s just a superiority game, and while it’s fairly argued that we can never fully do away with such things in our species, I’d say it doesn’t hurt to think about it and try to do a bit better than base nature.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to celebrate the victory that is clean hair, take my meds, and hope my brain is polite enough to not find something nasty to fixate on. May your brains be treating you kindly as well.

<3

(Dys)Function

I think I tend to skirt around the worst parts of the never-ending war with my brain. As other sufferers know, it sounds whiny or drama queeny to evince the full depths of the pain, and why invite insult with candor? Even though I know it’s good for me to admit just how crap it is to war with my brain, I am sure people don’t want to know that my husband gets stuck carrying all the weight. That I spend most of my time in my computer chair because the thought of going anywhere else is too painful. That simple things like convincing myself to bathe are resounding victories.

And yet, skirting around these things is doing myself, and all my friends who have mental health problems a disservice. We are not lazy or bad people just because ablests cannot appreciate the misery that is being constantly at war with oneself, a war where we cannot lay down arms lest we be overrun. It’s sad, because at least 1 in 4 people will have some sort of mental health problem in their life, though thankfully not that many will have reoccuring problems. And there is also the fatal flaw that most of us fall victim to at times, and that is our conviction that if we can get over something or do something, then obviously everyone else can as well. We all do it time to time, but it’s definitely something that could stand to go away. It’s just a superiority game, and while it’s fairly argued that we can never fully do away with such things in our species, I’d say it doesn’t hurt to think about it and try to do a bit better than base nature.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to celebrate the victory that is clean hair, take my meds, and hope my brain is polite enough to not find something nasty to fixate on. May your brains be treating you kindly as well.

<3