Daily Archives: April 12, 2013

Shabbat calls

Dear lovely readers, it’s Friday afternoon.  As soon as the sun starts going down, it will be the Jewish Sabbath, which in Hebrew is called Shabbat.  It’s the end of the sixth day of creation, in Biblical terms, and it says in the Old Testament that God rested on the Seventh Day from all the creative work that He had created to do.  Uh-huh, the wording is a little dicey there: the creative work that He had created to do?  Yup, that’s what it says.

Since I don’t have much time, as the sun is descending toward the horizon, I’ll make it quick: in the Beginning, there was nothing but God.  Absolutely nothing.  Nothing but a vast, unlimited, formless Cosmic Consciousness.  Therefore, anything that existed after God decided to start making stuff was part of Creation and was a creative work, including God’s work itself.  Make sense?

Well, it’s the New Moon in Jewish time, which is sometimes (well, all the time) different from civil time, and I feel good that I’ve made use of it to plant a few rows of veggies in my new raised bed.  The New Moon is part of a new cycle of creation too.  And this is the first Shabbat of this particular lunar cycle, so I wanted to take advantage of its energy to give my little veggies a good start.  So I’m thinking of them as the sun slowly sinks in the West, and how when they are grown (if the rabbits leave us any) we will be eating the energy of the first Shabbat of the New Moon of the month of Iyar, the month of Seeing and Prophecy.

So I’m taking the day (which starts at night) off from blogging about awful things.  I’m really not supposed to blog at all on Shabbat, since it takes away from the sanctity of the day; but sometimes I get so inspired that I just can’t help it.  We’ll see.

Wishing you all a wonderfully peaceful day, whether you celebrate a Sabbath or not: a day of rest and refreshment, of peace and contentment, of love and fulfillment, of plenty of good food and drink, and if you have family, a day of peace and enjoyment and fun.

Love to all,


Fun Friday : Henri

Une de mes vidéos préférées

More Than Bipolar

I Make Things!I know that I tend to focus on having bipolar here, so I thought I’d mention something else for once! Well that, and I feel physically like I’ve been run over, so trying to think up something interesting and specific to my mental health would be like running a marathon, ha ha.

Having said that, what I’m bringing up today is as relevant to my mental health as anything else. It is my number one non-gaming, non-reading hobby – doing things with yarn!

My mother started me on this addiction when I was 5. She gave me a crochet hook, a ball of yarn, and taught me how to do chains. I’d chain an entire ball, unwind it, roll it back up, and repeat as I felt necessary. I enjoyed it, and even learned how to make chains by hand from my father.

However, Mom sort of forgot to teach me anything else. It wasn’t until I was in my early 20s and realized that she’d taught my younger sisters more than chains that I got on her case to mentor me! She made me demonstrate that I could do an even chain, then started me off on single crochet. I made my first scarf that same evening while babysitting friends engaging in hallucinogens at a pretty lake. I was hooked (har har), and had her show me double crochet; I made my first attempt at a hat that night.

However, I have a slight curse — I’m left-handed. I actually am all about being left-handed in every way possible, and have been fortunate to grow up in communities where the handedness split was more 30/70 than 10/90 (art school, language school, and then my job as a military linguist), but crafting wasn’t back in vogue at that stage. I did a lot of square and granny square things, and freeballed pretty much everything because between my hand and the undiagnosed bipolar, I couldn’t actually process trying to follow a pattern without my brain shutting down on me. It’s only been this past year of being medicated and regularly attending a crafting group where I have found enough confidence to follow some patterns, and will shortly have my first garment to prove it!

It's a... Thing!

It’s a… Thing!

Alongside that, I wanted to learn to knit. It made sense to me to try and pick up both of the main woolcrafts, but there was that brain shutting down thing going on. My sister managed to sort of show me once over a weekend visit, but it didn’t stick. I bought books, I watched videos, but my brain was too freaked out to follow any of it. It took nine years, but this past week has finally hit this point where it sort of makes sense. I can cast on. I can knit. I can purl. And I can even cast off/bind off/make the stupid thing be finished. I’m not sure anyone without a mental health issue will understand just how challenging it is to try and do anything in the face of the anxiety/freaking out/DROWNING OUT OF ALL REASONABLE THOUGHT that comes with bipolar and other disorders, but I’m sure some of you guys can appreciate the muppet flailing hell that it can be.

Of course, being a hobby, it serves the purpose of providing something akin to relaxing. Which, for me, is tense shoulders and intenser concentration… I know, I fail at floppy. I’m working on it. But it does bring me the enjoyment of doing, of doing something that generally works well to exclude negative and intrusive thoughts, that (if done right) ends up with some sort of useful object.

Anyways, I might bring up the crafting a bit more here and again — we’ll see. I’d love to hear what you guys do for fun, and if helps shoosh up the brain demons!


The post More Than Bipolar appeared first on The Scarlet B.


10:39 pm:

Currently coming down from an unexpected bout of hypomania. Folded eight baskets of laundry, cleaned cat boxes, vacuumed, started litter training the kittens, ate supper with my kid, tried to teach my kid some basic spelling…

My God, if only I could have this energy and motivation 90% of the time, I’d be just fine.

Unfortunately, this is the 10% of the time that I don’t see much of. Especially not when medicated.

Today has been a roller coaster ride.

Started out anxious, but determined, in spite of the cold gloomy weather and seriously painful cramps. Went to fix that wifi. Got nothing accomplished because the woman sat beside me the whole time yapping. I can’t focus when being watched. I simply can’t. Once she left, I had it fixed in a half hour. I do not work well under scrutiny, period.

That was a momentary high.

Which crashed into a rather sudden depressed “fuck this” mood in which I wanted to throttle R for no apparent reason, followed by a sensation of weepiness and wanting a hug yet also not wanting anyone near me or to even look at me.


The cramps persisted in spite of ibuprofen.

The mood continued to decline until around 4pm.

By then, all I could focus on was getting my kid, coming home, doing minimal housework, and once we were both fed, go to bed.

But then I got hit with a manic spell. It was just “Oh, hey, you have cramps, your back hurts, you’re tired and cranky…Now would be a great time to do housework and run around like a chicken with its head cut off!”

Thank you, scumbag brain, and fuck you, stupid hormones.

All day spent in a haze, moods swinging left and right, emotional surges at every turn, no energy, no ambition…AND BAM!!!!! Hypomania, probably the first bout I have had in several weeks. Not happiness, not a good mood, but a productive energetic burst. Now it is beginning to wane. My bed is not calling just yet, but it will be soon.

I’m drained. The damn roller coaster ride is the blessed hell ride.

I feel relieved that I won’t have to rummage through eight baskets looking for clean underwear, though.

I still haven’t done the dishes,but last I checked a few bowls and silverware didn’t constitute living in a hovel. I will deal with it tomorrow. The weekend is always my breathing time. No one making demands of me other than kid and cats. Nothing really to do other than errands, at my leisure. I can definitely do with a dose of that, considering it’s been two weekends in a row of being invaded by holidays and family and neighbor kids.

The last two days of cold and rain have ensured no visitors for Spook. Thankfully for me. Is that terrible? Is it such a bad thing to admit you have limitations? Would it be better to grin and bear it and bottle it all up until it boils over? I see so many people do that. I have lived with people who do that. It’s not healthy. And it’s not a sin to need some “me” time or admit you’ve hit the wall, you need some space.

I just remembered I see sunshine spewer tomorrow. We have had so many good sessions in a row…I am fearing the worst. She always knows when I am on the edge and those are the days her empathy seems to be on vacation. And at this moment, I am close to the edge. It has been stress overload. People overload.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO fucking sick of people assuming you’re fine as long as you’re out of bed, fairly well kept, and functioning. I’m walking a fine line today. I once again got hit with the wave of panic realizing I am responsible for another human. I mean, I am SOLELY responsible. When I had her, I had a partner, or so I had thought. It never really hit me that I alone was responsible for her every need. Even the last year and half of him being gone, I’ve just been so busy trying to get better, trying to be this super functional “get a job, you’re all cured” person everyone wants me to be. No time to reflect.

But these days, I am reflecting plenty. And it’s scary, for that moment, when I feel the weight of it all crushing me. Kid, cats, helping R, learning the certification stuff, keeping the house clean, the car fluids checked, the yard maintained…EGAD!

It’s all on  me.

And I do okay. Not great, but okay.

My biggest fear is the complacency of thinking “Oh, I am doing well, I’ve got this now.”

Because every time I have thought that before….Mr. Bipolar stomps in and reminds me it doesn’t work that way.

Now…I am gonna hug a kitten ‘cos it’s good therapy.

And hope tomorrow I don’t have all those mood fluctuations telling me to smash in someone’s head all the while wanting a hug. That’s just too fucking disconcerting.