Daily Archives: May 29, 2013

Black, white, and avoidance

I did not call in today. Actually, I practiced avoidance behavior because, 1.) Kenny was there, and 2;) I am enjoying having my sanity and soul back. No matter, R hasn’t tried to contact me in any way for two days. Because he has Kenny and I am not needed. It was as I said all along. I am not negative, I am just aware of my surroundings. It would be nice on occasion if people would prove me wrong and not turn out to be complete sociopaths.

Sunshine spewer says my main personality trait that is disorder-ish is that I see things in black and white without shades of gray. This came as a huge shock to me because my view of myself is that everything is in so many shades of gray, I can’t determine which way is up. Apparently, I need to stop seeing everything as all good or all bad.

Which leads right back to that APB I put out about where is my happy medium.

I asked her how to find it, considering the bipolar and all. She admitted that it is nearly impossible for bipolar patients to find a medium and keep a balance.


Shall I make the Brooklyn Bridge disappear for my next act?

I swear she sets me up to fail. Here, you need to do this, but because of your condition, it’s not likely you will be able to do this. HUH?

I used to truly believe in therapy. Now I am having doubts that it does anything but fuck me up more.

And I really don’t agree that I see things as all good or all bad. Part of my never ending torment is that I can, if I dig deep enough and am in the mood, find good even in some pretty bad things. (Excluding child abuse, harming animals, bullying, and Justin Bieber.)  The other night I had a little mood crash but I curled up in bed and Azazel was sleeping next to me, purring, and just that little thing made it seem not so bad. Maybe it’s just that I don’t focus on shining light on the in between stuff. I do tend to highlight the vortex of suck. I will have to work on that.

Right after I make that bridge vanish.

And cure cancer and achieve world peace.

Damn, I am gonna be busy.

On the plus side, she thinks I am absolutely on track with this R situation. He has sucked the life out of me with his vapid personality and manipulations and the time has come to lay it on the line,assertively, and if he balks, then I am finally free.

I just want a happy medium. He doesn’t, though.

She also told me to stop atoning for the past because I don’t owe him anything, we are not in a relationship.

It makes perfect sense. So why do I feel like a back stabbing traitor while he feels absolutely nothing?

Oh, right. Because he’s up in his ivory tower looking down on me, chanting the mantra for me to “rise above it”.

With a beer in his hand.

Where do I find these people who are more fucked up than I am?

An Attitude of Gratitude

So, last week I was kind of a downer. I’ve been a bit on the downside for a few weeks now, I’d say. I see my pdoc in a couple of days and need to talk with him about that because we recently adjusted my meds because I was running too manic. I think we may have overdid it.

In one of my posts last week I made a list of regrets. I get irritated when someone tells me they have no regrets. I find it hard to swallow. Granted, being bipolar, bad behavior and poor decisions probably gives me more regrets than the average bear, but to say you have none….I ain’t buying it.

That being said, I’m feeling the opposite today. Instead of focusing on my regrets, I’m feeling more focused on the good things in my life, and despite how I feel sometimes, I have many.

Thank you Mom for your love. Both of us suffering from mental illness means we had some serious blow outs. Things really got ugly at times, but we also had some wonderful times as well. You were my best friend. Regardless of how we felt about each other at any given time, there’s one thing I don’t doubt at all – you loved me. I’ll always love you. I miss you.

So, I pulled myself out of college. I was offered an excellent scholarship to pursue my goal at that time, which was to be an elementary school teacher. I just decided it wasn’t time yet for me to go to college and I walked away. Despite my decision not to have a college degree, I had a good career in the hotel industry and it was a good fit for many years, but not anymore. Recently I finally had a calling. It’s the one I should have heard many years before, but I wasn’t listening. My calling is to be a minister. More specifically, I want to be a chaplain. Today I have gone back to school to get a Masters of Divinity degree. It’s probably going to take about 10 years but I’m very excited. I’m very grateful to finally know what I want to do and am working towards it. So far, it’s been fun.

I have a beautiful daughter. Though she lives 1500 miles away and therefore I don’t get to see her as often as she deserves, I’m thrilled over our relationship. I missed far too much of her childhood, but now, with her being a teenager, we have become closer. I was excited the last time I visited her that she told me we didn’t have to go find touristy things to do. She suggested we just hang out at places like coffee shops. That’s what we did and we had a great time. Good talks and lots of laughs. My baby has grown up and that’s AOK to me.

I’m grateful that I finally met my soul mate. Maurice is the man of my dreams. In fact, he’s more than I could ever imagine. It wasn’t long after we became a couple that my bipolar disorder decided to come out and throw my life into turmoil. He stayed with me during that time and the 3 years it took to find the right mix of meds to make me stable. I love you, Maurice. More than I will ever be able to say.

I have plenty more things I am grateful for. If I spend time to think about it, I’d probably find the list is endless. So, here’s the beginning of my list. I’m sure I’ll list more at a later date. In fact, I may continue the list tomorrow.

The Drill

We all know the drill — it’s so much harder to come up with blog fodder when things are going well. And they are, sort of. I was able to handle driving this morning, which sort of fell into my lap — the husband fellow is quite ill, and it made sense for me to do it. Even though I know I can drive, my brain goes into a weird bubble at the thought and it makes me wary of my ability to operate a motor vehicle. Which is silly, ’cause the bubble is all sorts of hyper-vigilant, but eh… brains are weird.

Words are also starting to come back to my brain, slowly but surely. I managed some progress on my languishing NaNoWriMo story, though I don’t know if I can repeat that today. We’ll see — I’ve got my magic album on (Swoon by the Silversun Pickups), so it might encourage my brain.

I’m still not quite up to dealing with people yet, but I think that time is getting closer. That is to say — I’ll talk to my best friends, but I’m not up for wider-scale socialization past that. I think that day is coming soon, but I’m not rushing it. Oh, there’s some dabbling on Twitter, on Facebook — I’m finding that what my brain is offering up for me to put out there has made for fruitful interaction. Perhaps the antidepressant is helping clear away some of my paranoia and shadows enough to enable me to be happy dabbling in treacle.

For the moment though, I’m having a belated coffee, and enjoying le grind that is work. Slowly but surely, humanity is reasserting itself in me. Or erm, feeling human. One of those things with the words, ha ha.

I hope everyone is having a pleasant day!


The post The Drill appeared first on The Scarlet B.


Was “sick” today. Technically, I still have that chest thing so 20 minute coughing phlegm-a-paloozas don’t exactly scream that I feel great. But okay, maybe today was more a mental sickness day. Not that R cared, he had his shop ape Kenny there and didn’t text or call once all day, not even to inquire how I was doing. Proof that he just wants a fucking servant around all the time to listen to him and fetch stuff for him. It was the same last week, I said I wasn’t coming in, Kenny was there, my absence was unnoticed. Then came the next day, Kenny wasn’t there, I was still sick, but R guilted me and phone stalked me until I came in just to get him off my back.

The man is a piece of work. Manipulative, self absorbed, self centered, insensitive, cold, detached, work obsessed. Are these mere personality traits or a full blown disorder? I wish I knew how to tell. At this point, I have been labeled so much, I guess I have come to despise the term “personality disorder”. Think about it. EVERYONE DRAWING BREATH will have a personality disorder simply by having a unique personality.

But then, like alcoholism or drug use, is it a social thing, or is it the status quo? Is this man really that much of a jerk?

Oh, on the surface he is such a nice easy going generous man. Funny, personable, intelligent, talented at fixing things, decent guitarist, awesome song writer. If you were to only spend a couple of hours a week with him, well, he’d be prince fucking charming.

Spending hours and hours with him daily for this long, I am just bombarded with all his baggage and how crappy it makes me feel. This is a man who dumped me because I needed to change. Yeah, I will get right on that pill that cures mental illness, cos we’re all malingerers who have mood swings and depressions for your inconvenience.

I have changed drastically.

He has not changed at all, except now he’s the submissive partner in his relationship.

I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to go walking down this particular memory lane. Maybe I overestimated my own strength and ability to forgive and compartmentalize. Maybe if he had changed an iota I’d feel differently. But being reminded every day I had to overhaul everything about myself while he gets to remain exactly the same fucked up mess he always was…Tis hard to compartmentalize.

But it doesn’t bother him, it only bothers me. And trying to talk to him results in the guilt evoking “since you’re making such a big deal out of it…” I think it’s time to figure out my next move.

The last four days without him or his stupid busted stuff obsession have been so calm, so content for me. I haven’t had a bout of bad depression or anxiety. I haven’t questioned or doubted myself or felt shitty for simply being who I am, even though I am not “rising above it.” I have just enjoyed being a mom, reading, watching the cats play….

I don’t really know what I want.

I am glad I get to see sunshine spewer tomorrow. Though she almost never helps me, she just lets me prattle on until I can spin things into some form of logic for myself. That’s worth the money. NOT. But I need someone objective, because I am not. I can never ever be sure that what I am feeling is the real deal or some mood issue. The fact I have been feeling this way for so long kind of indicates it’s really a problem for me. I just don’t know what to do about it. Even though I know in the big picture, he won’t give a damn anyway because I failed to “rise above it” and do what he wants. So why I am concerned with conducting myself with professionalism and logic is beyond me.

But I think I’ve done enough time in atonement prison for this guy. I give and give and never receive.

Of course, then I wonder, am I being a spoiled brat and not being fair to him?

I honestly don’t think so. I have needs too. If we are friends as he claims, then am I not within my rights to expect at least a fraction of my needs be met? I wasn’t put on this planet simply to serve him. Nor him me. But quid pro quo isn’t such a bad thing.

Bottom line is, R is not going to change and I guess I have no right to expect him to. Fine, spifferdoodle. But it doesn’t mean I have to remain in the vortex of suck that is him devouring every vestige of joy and sanity from my life. I’m willing to plead weakness, I don’t have a strong enough psyche to handle it. Whatever.

It wouldn’t be such a “flee from the scene” feeling if he would just listen to me and let me come in three days a week. But noo, everything has to be his way even if most of the time I sit around looking at Reddit cos there’s nothing for me to do then he complains that all I care about is reading Reddit.


My stomach is already churning, because I honestly don’t want to go back, don’t even want to speak to him. Least not yet. I need to sort through the powderkeg in my head so I don’t spontaneously blow up on someone who doesn’t have it coming. But his lack of communication and willingness to listen have put me in a corner, and fight or flight is kicking in. And it’s my own fault, I let myself get yanked into the vortex of suck. Honestly our “friendship” is based on nothing broken electronics and alcohol. And I am tired of both.

But am I tired/tired, or am I just having the bipolar burn out that comes from stressing out for too long without a breather?

God, if I could just not be self aware, just be like everyone else and not give a damn who I hurt.

But then…I wouldn’t be me, and while it’s not fun being me, it is authentic. This is me. I care. View it as weakness.

I’m strong enough to take it.