Daily Archives: January 30, 2015

This  Too Shall Pass


It’s Friday evening and I’m alone in the house. For how long who knows. It’s a good thing though. I’m not feeling very sociable. I’ve been fighting back tears most of the day. Feeling rather defeated. Feeling that my blog’s not good enough, that my days aren’t good enough, that I’m not good enough. I know that those close to me would tell me I’m being silly. That I do the best I can and that I am more than good enough. The logical side of my brain knows that.

Then, though, is the emotional side of my brain. That’s the side that gets out of whack. The side that expects more of myself, and the side that gets upset and creates tears. I want to be alone, yet I feel lonely. I want to do more, but I’m exhausted. I want to go places and do things, but my anxiety stops me. I want friends, but they don’t understand. And most of all I want to work, but my bipolar prohibits me.

My bipolar took a lot from me. I can’t remember half of what has changed – it took my memory too. Decisions are impossible. Where to go for dinner is a life-changing event. I have to keep two calendars just to have a chance at remembering an appointment. I used to be the most organized person I knew, but now I’m scattered. I need to remember the positive – how well I’m really doing. Because I am. But even so, times like now, bipolar will sneak in and take over. I have to remember, this too shall pass.

20 Days of Valentines—Day 3

One Who Loves You

Ramble Ramble Blah Blah

So the title is my version of the line “babble babble bitch bitch” from Marilyn Manson’s “This Is The New Shit.” Music is the one thing that resonates for me, helps when I apply it to my day to day life ass trashery. (Yes, Bex, if you read this, I owe you royalties, bill me.)

Okay, so two posts in one day…Yeah, the eeevil brain is on hyperdrive. Not like I force people to read though. It’s written vomit, avoid if you wish.

I FORCED myself into a shower (and believe me, I am not being dramatic because at this point I am so down and disenchanted with a society I can never be good enough for, why do I give a damn?). Then into the dish I went.
I knew immediately it was a mistake. R was in a bad mood. He asked why I looked down and I told him about my morning because, well, ya know, he asked and idiot I am I assume if someone asks, they want a real reply.
People really don’t. They want you to spew sunshine and rainbows while being able to embrace their own bad mood.
Every minute is ticking by like an hour.
Already he has disillusioned me more to humanity.
He is always on a rant about, “If you want to piss off a woman, comment on her weight.”
Well, sick of the sexism I said, “If you want to pick a fight with a man, tell him he’s not good in bed.”
To which he shrugged and said, “Least I get mine.”
I glared not just daggers but foot long swords. He quickly said, “I was joking.”
Um…I used to live with him. He’s not joking, he really does view women that way and his current wife will attest to it.

Soo over people.
Soo over myself. It’s self loathing day.

My kid climbed in bed with me last night and said she had a nightmare that “the cops took me away and put me in a home with no food.”
Well, entering the dish and experiencing all the triggers that come with it..now has me wondering if I should be worried my kid is going to be taken away.
Yes, I know, she’s 5 and had a bad dream. It’s not reality.
But as I daily slip and slide more and more between mania, paranoia, and desolation and I let the housework slide and I forget things and do weird things ( I grabbed for my spray can of deodorant yesterday and nearly used room deodorizer on my armpits)…
I get scared. My kid is healthy and happy, her needs are met. But I’ve known people to have their kids taken away for nothing more than someone saying the house wasn’t clean enough. And face it, cleanliness is subjective to one’s personal standards. If I can keep the dishes, laundry and cat boxes caught up…I don’t obsess over dusting and such.
Now my kid has had this nightmare, and my panic and paranoia have taken off on their own little quest to make my current shit mental state worse.
It was a dream. I mean, if I were to dream of being married to an Oompa Loompa while eating chocolate covered maggots, it wouldn’t make it a remote possibility.
But something that plays on my biggest fear- losing my kid-well…It seems I’m not that far off base in my fear.

I hate this.

Two hours. I have to paste on the “I’m not feeling like swallowing razor blades” face for two more hours.
Then I can take the weekend to recover.
Ha. Like the stress ever stops coming.

I need my brain to slow down. I think that’s my own worst enemy. My brain moves too fast for me to process and catch up and make logical choices or decisions. It’s not a cop out, either. I’m pulling in four radio stations one on frequency and I may know the words to every song playing…But I can’t think lucidly enough to make heads or tails of any of it.

Rambling On…
I served my time. I am home, back in my bubble and I like my fucking bubble, to hell with those who think it’s “mentally unhealthy.” I feel safe in my bubble. I love my bubble. I’d marry my bubble and hump its leg.
I made not that when my mental state is not good..I am relatively useless. I mean, I go through the motions, but my brain is screaming the whole time MAKE IT END MAKE IT END MAKE IT END. So I’m not bringing my A game. More like a Z game, to recycle a past post term. I made the effort. It was grueling. I wanted to primal scream every second I was there, pretending not to feel like drinking bleach.
And yeah, I do get in these mindsets where I’d almost drink bleach. A shrink would probably label it as “attention seeking suicide talk.” WRONG. It’s just that point of frustration where your own mind seems to be working against you and outside influences are following suit and no matter how hard you fight…You just can’t shake it off. It’s more self loathing than any true intent of self harm. Because being cyclothymic, I’ll swim back to the surface soon enough.

Is there a word beyond the scope of frustrating? Because this day makes the term frustrating seem rather…understated.
I survived.
Guess that’s the small victory.
Of course, I had to tempt the fates by assuming I could simply read some idle babble net sites. Thanks to Reddit, my attitude toward people is worse than it was before. I need to avoid that site like the plague, it can be far more negative than positive. But then it’s not the site’s fault I am weak in the psyche. Though I prefer not to view it as weak, but rather as having an open wound that is raw.
What got me in the biggest uproar was this bit that totally took the Marilyn Monroe quote “If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best” and turned it into “an excuse to be a jerk and blame it on others.”
ONE person commented in the true text the quote was intended. ONE.
And I’m the pessimistic one?
In the context of someone with mental illness and emotional scars…I find the Monroe quote to be quite accurate. It is not a free for all to be a jerk. It is “if you can’t handle when I at rock bottom, you shouldn’t be allowed to enjoy me when I am at top.”

My misanthropy grows. Metastasizes. My self loathing becomes the blob, out of control in growth, spreading, consuming all around.

I must sound like a monster.
Oddly, I don’t care because those who’d judge me a monster for stating my honest feelings are not people I’d mesh with anyway.
Guess that’s my hypocrisy showing.
I judge someone for being only out for their own pleasure but expect not to be judged for spewing my negative experiences.
You know what this means?

I’m a lowly human.
I had such high hopes for being from Neptune.

Coming Out Bipolar…..Again

Well, I’ve let the proverbial cat out of the bag with my new landlady, and it’s all good. The revelation came out of a discussion about where I’m at with my application for disability, which is probably somewhere between batches of paperwork.

She wasn’t shocked or horrified. She has a friend who is bipolar, so she’s at least somewhat familiar with the disorder. I told her I wasn’t really “crazy”, but I did have to be hospitalized once for depression and I tend to get loud and bounce off the walls when I’m manic.

Now, realistically she would find out anyway when my next mood episode occurs. I can get away with depression for quite a while, but I can’t hide the mania and lately it’s been testing the waters. We’ve had some nice springlike weather the past few days, and it’s made me yearn for the real thing, and for just a touch of hypomania. I crave that rush of energy and optimism…..but I know I need stability much more.

And truth be told, I know I’m an odd little duck and I wanted ” Lisa” to understand why. I also think a second set of eyes might be of some use in case I get screw-loosey again. I certainly don’t expect her to watch over me the way Will does, but she’s an alpha female who rides a motorcycle and is not as easily intimidated as Will is sometimes. So if she ever asks me if I’m OK, it will probably be because I’m NOT.

I’m glad to have that conversation over with. I’m not good at pretending to be someone I’m not, and it’s a relief to have everything out in the open. Now I can relax and get settled in for real. :-)

Bipolar Unplugged 2015-01-30 19:45:10

I came down with the yucky flu bug that’s going around, which is why I haven’t been around for a while (well, that and I just didn’t feel like writing right before I got sick, ha ha!) I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can think straight! Read more →

Bit by Bit by Bit by Bit I’m Bit by Bit by…

Yeah okay, I don’t know where I was going with that. I think that sort of encapsulates everything really, ha ha. I’m just sort of mucking by. It’s been mainly tolerable, though I’ve had a couple random semi-severe anxiety spikes (not to panic attack level, thankfully). I also got a bit angry-snappish the other night after writing my post, so maybe I’m a bit more wobbly than I’m admitting to myself and it was biting me in the ass. Or not. Who can ever tell, even when possessing a fairly decent capability for self-observation and analysis.

We actually had a few inches in the end

We actually had a few inches in the end

At least the weather has been a balm to my soul. See, I love winter. I love the cold, I love the gloom, and I especially love the swirling snow when it can be bothered to show up. We had nothing in the way of snow last winter, so I was hoping extra-hard for some this time around. I don’t know if we’ll get any more this seasons, but at least I had one day of looking out my window and watching it swirl and settle. And my eldest, bless her. She knew I wanted so snow badly and was sad for me that it wasn’t coming, and then excited when it did. She’s a good kid, and I’m glad she wanted to share in my joy.

I keep forgetting what else I wanted to say… hooray for brain fog? I will take a second to plug my friend Crista Anne though. You might have heard about her #OrgasmQuest on xojane, Jezebel, Refinery29, or (my favourite) Good Vibes. If you’ve not, the basics are thus — she has depression, and she’s lost her ability to orgasm in the treatment of said depression. She’s doing a great service on shining light on two taboo subjects at once, and while it’s not a problem I have, I certainly enthusiastically support her efforts in demystifying two common things that are often ignored. Plus, she’s just a really sweet and passionate human being, so yanno, happy to support her in her stigma-busting efforts.

And, hopefully, I’ll remember what I wanted to write about and get that out in the next couple of days. Until then, hope y’all are all doing well out there.


Day Two

So I don’t feel as good.  I’ve been trying to be lazy as possible but had to go out and run some errands to do with activities tonight and I am now tired out and a little sore.  I’m not sure what else I’m going to do today except try to rest some more.  I don’t feel horrible, but just not as good as I thought I would be doing.

So keep thinking about me as I recover from this and that by Monday I’ll be ready to take on the youngest one’s birthday week!  That’s always fun.

I Get By with a Little Help from Total Strangers!

  This post is dedicated to one of my favorite bloggers Blahpolar of Blapolar Diaries https://bipolardyke.wordpress.com   I’m sitting next to Woman’s Best Friend this very moment.  My sweet puppy Lucy is reclining next to me while I hunt and peck. … Continue reading

Can you really re- take ‘control’ of your life if you live with bipolar?

First off, notice I have given it a small ‘b’… that is one way I can minimize its importance in my life!! Okay, joking aside, there are quite a few posts on line at the moment about taking control – … Continue reading

Still Gloomy

I’m still experiencing the blues and now I am also scared to be alone.

There is a van driving around the neighborhood with a freezer on the back for several days. The housing association has been sending out emails warning people. It makes me nervous just being here by myself. I’m kind of stuck here doing nothing and letting my thoughts wander around in circles.

Can’t wait for 5:00pm to come along so hubby will be home and I’ll be able to relax and just worry about the roadtrip. I love roadtrips so the stress for that will be a lot less.

I would really like a happy day, it’s been over a week now.. dammit.