Daily Archives: July 31, 2014

Not Sure If…

53124344I am rather unsure about the state of my mood at this time. I’m in a good mood, but I am feeling a bit more irritated. The line on the meme-picture came to my head after I got home from Stitch ‘n Bitch last night because I was feeling positively giddy. Maybe it was because I had a great time talking candidly about my life and times. Maybe it’s because I’m finally starting to feel comfortable in our new pub; we switched while I was off my meds and it was bad on my anxiety. I don’t really know, and with bipolar, there’s not always a logical reason to anything (as hard as I try to find one for everything!).

IMG_2363Still, things are holding together nicely enough. We’ve finally got a date booked for the removal men to come and take our furniture to the house, woot woot. Which means getting off our arses and getting the house packed up. I chose to start with my desk environs, as I figured that clearing away the stuff I use the most was the best way to cut into dithering and flipping through stuff. Everything else that I’ve packed has mainly been a shoving things into boxes without looking overmuch; we figure we can do any sorting on the other end. Really, I’m rather good at efficiently packing after some ridiculous number of moves across my childhood, and I’m doing a good job of doing it a bit at a time, so (children permitting) it’s ticking along. I hope to manage a good swathe again today after a few days of everything else getting in the way, but… we’ll see. I’ve got to keep reminding myself to take it easy enough that I don’t push myself into an episode.


A jar of spoons for the lacking-in-spoons me

And in that, I have a talisman reminder to take care of myself now! I’d seen a couple of disparate spoonie friends sharing their spoon jewelery on Facebook, and it made me decide to see what was out there. I found an independent shop here in the UK specializing in things to make chronic illness suck less, and fell in love with the little spoons in a jar necklace. So my husband and daughter, being the awesome people they are, decided to buy it for me. I’m never taking it off, hee hee. And really, even though I am doing rather well right now, I know how quickly I can push past the point of reason and end up destroying my sand castle self. No matter how practiced one is in the managing of spoons, we all get that occasional spot of doing well where we think that maybe, just maybe, we can push that little bit further, and nope. I’ve fallen into the drink without a spoon to paddle me out, miasma.

Anyways, I should try to get my day moving, as the hours are passing me rapidly.


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Introvert vs. Extrovert ~ Several Common Myths

I am an introvert that can be an extrovert if it is absolutely, positively necessary. I tend to spend my time reading, writing, exploring the ideas that pop into my brain to see if they have popped into anyone else’s; … Continue reading

A Different Perspective

Though I’m not much of a fan of the telephone—a fact that has been well-documented here—I actually had a 2 1/2-hour conversation yesterday with a good friend from across the country. Now, this friend and I have never met face-to-face, but we have definitely bonded heart-to-heart; we got to know each other on a nursing website where we once were both moderators, and have been friends for about ten years now. She suffers from depression and is part of my small Facebook support group, but she is also one of the people who truly “gets” me—bipolar and all—and talking with her is like opening a much-loved book and settling in for a good read.

During this conversation, the topic of said disorder came up on several occasions, and it was an eye-opener to hear her perspective on how very much has changed since I was first diagnosed. Of course, I know that things are vastly improved, but to hear it from this particular source somehow made it more real.

“You’ve finally accepted your diagnosis,” she said, almost proudly. “A year ago, you were still in denial and fighting it tooth and nail. You had the idea that if you ignored it long enough it would just disappear. But somewhere along the line you’ve learned that it’s NOT a character flaw, and yes, you’ve even come to embrace it. And that’s healthy!”

After the call ended, I got to thinking about it, and I realized that my friend was spot on in her assessment: I really have accepted my illness as a part of me. It’s not ALL of me, by any stretch of the imagination, and I still think I’d have had an easier life if I didn’t have it. But my attitude is a lot different than it was a year or two ago—I used to try to push BP away as if it were a badly behaved child, even as it clung to me like a burr to a horse blanket. I don’t do that anymore. And as my friend said, there’s an upside to having the condition, because it makes me creative and funny and sarcastic and silly at least as much as, if not more than, it makes me sad and hostile and profane and frustrated.

And I know it’s not going anywhere. This is forever. The first year, I thought Dr. Awesomesauce was just humoring me by giving me that vague “Not Otherwise Specified” diagnosis to chew on while he figured out that I was making it all up just for the hell of it. Now the words Bipolar affective disorder are all over my medical charts, and the symptoms—when I have them—are as much of a reality as the aging face I see in my bathroom mirror every morning. They always were, even before I knew there was a name for them. Now they’re happening less and less often, and when they do, I can usually get past the episode pretty quickly…..as long as I take my meds faithfully and call Dr. A when I feel myself approaching the edge of the abyss.

Yes, it helps a great deal to hear the perspective of someone who knows and understands me, doesn’t judge me, and is far enough away from the situation to be objective. Thank you, my friend. :-)