Daily Archives: April 4, 2015

O_o search terms

I’m taking a little alphabreak from the a-z challenge … mixin’ it up a little etc etc.

My favourite section of my blog stats is the search terms that transport unknown people from google to blahpolarland. On the whole I don’t care much about the sensible ones,  apart from the sad fact that phrases around the concept of negative stereotypes about bipolar are light years ahead of all the others. I like the search terms right at the bottom of the list, the ines that have only been used by one lost or strange person. I don’t want them to wander sadly around cyberspace with no answers, so I shall provide some.


Anhedonic quotes
I can’t be bothered to answer this one. I’m very meh about it.
And I devil
Begone, I am not signing a soul mandate tyvm.
Lesbian quotes and sayings about love
Is that a silicon packing cock, or are you just pleased to see me?
Aged life love
You bastard, I am a mere 44 years old.
Blah sunday
Sunday blah dee Sunday. Or Everyblah is like Sunday. Everyblah is silent and grey.
fucking thanks
It’s a fucking pleasure.
Wtf is bipolar
It’s a meteorological adjective. Apparently.
Did you go out last night
Creativity and madness 2015
It’s early in the year, but I’ll do my best. Eep whirrrrr tweet chkchkchk … brb knitting a novel. Will that do?
Bipolar festering
Mine too.
Live video latest girl pissing
How much are you willing to pay? How late would I have to be?
Lithium day 10
Take probiotics for the skin, drink more, but no more than 4l a day, stock up on anti nausea pills, get a blood lithium test every time you increase the dose and don’t scratch that, it’ll only make it worse.


The Games People Play

Somebody please remind me never to let my antipsychotics run out again.

Well, it wasn’t ENTIRELY my fault. The pharmacy was totally out of Geodon when I called it in for a refill, but then the next night I was up till after 1 AM thanks to my son’s late arrival home from his vacation and skipped the Zyprexa as well. I knew I’d never get up in the morning if I took it. So I gambled…..and of course I lost.

I’ve never felt crazier in my life. My head was exploding with zillions of unrelated thoughts; my focus was gone; I had a squirmy sensation like I wanted to crawl out of my skin. My emotions were all over the map—I was giddy and talking up a storm one minute, weeping hysterically the next, and then back again.

In short, it was like experiencing the whole bipolar spectrum in one day. All I could do was ride it out, take ALL my meds early (they had since been refilled) and go to bed.

I still don’t know how it is that my brain can go haywire like that after only two days without both APs, but obviously they are the glue that holds me together. I’ve always been on a short leash, but this was ridiculous! Thankfully it took only two days to get back to normal; still, the episode scared me and I’m not going to let it happen again if I can help it.

So I’ll make sure to call in my prescriptions a week ahead of time, and I’ll take my APs no matter how late I have to be up at night or how early I have to be awake in the morning. Problem solved…..I hope!

Psychological Distortion

My brain started out okay this morning. I was up an hour and a half before my kid. Started working around the house in tiny increments (only way I can keep from getting lost) then decided a trip into the dish of petri was needed for supplies.

Yeah. Epic fail. Lots of traffic. Easter crowds at the store. I bumped into someone but was having such a panic attack my “sorry” didn’t even register so my kid apologized on my behalf after chastising me.
Got back to the bubble ASAP. Yeah, I know I am supposed to fight my own limitations blah blah blah, but some days, it’s best to just wave the white flag rather than enter into a losing battle.
My mind is distorting things today and there’s not a damned thing I can do to stop it short of getting drunk, which would just be another form of distortion.
There are days when I feel so bloated and my back hurts so bad, I look in the mirror with horror and think HOW CAN YOU GO OUT LOOKING LIKE THIS BADYEAR BLIMP!!!
So I try to combat that with doing make up and hair, like hey, at least my face is passable. Then I realize I have dual chins and my eyeliner is smeared and lipstick lasted two minutes…
and it’s right back to distortion land where I hate every single thing about myself even if yesterday, I was completely cool with who I am.
This distortion is unsettling because it won’t be sent away. It just fills my every thought to the point I cover mirrors with scarfs or flip them around in the cabinet to avoid them. I’ll stay in pajamas because it’s not like real clothes make me look any better.

It’s so bizarre because it’s not constant enough to even report to a doctor as anything other than an intermittent problem they’d dismiss as hormone fluctuations or some sort of self esteem issue.
But my brain is really seeing my reflection as some sort of personal affront that should be drawn and quartered and the more I try to point out the things that are right about me…The more the distortion keeps bending and twisting and contorting. (Mudvayne-“I feel it on the inside..twisting and contorting…”)
It’s a crap mind frame to occupy. But much like the cyclothymic rapid shifts of my apparently unique bipolar two, it doesn’t stay forever. If it were something with a trigger or only happened when I ate gluten or on Thursdays after watching Grey’s Anatomy and feeling dirty….
But this is just random from nowhere fucking bullshit.

Oddly a few hours from now or tomorrow, I’ll probably reread this and go, “What the hell was I smoking?”
Because my brain plays games on me that expertly.
And the most bizarre part of it all…
I NEVER had this issue before my daughter was born. It’s like that whole experience somehow altered my chemicals and they’ve picked up a new way to torture me.

Forget waterboarding.
Real torture is living with a distorted brain.

Here (haiku)

Your breathing touches my cheek and I look outside, here in both places.Filed under: haiku, NaPoWriMo 2015, poems Tagged: haiku, NaPoWriMo

Life Is a Puzzle


If you’ve ever been in a psychiatric hospital, you’ll remember the puzzle in the group room. Here’s a good story about it:

Originally posted on Journey Towards Wellness:

After being in the psychiatric hospital in 1997 for almost a week, things took a turn for the worse.  I began thinking of ways I could kill myself in the hospital.  I thought about unscrewing a light bulb, breaking it and then cutting my wrist.  When I told the staff, they were none too happy.  They had me sit alone out in the dayroom so I could be observed while they made arrangements for me to go to the intensive care unit.  I thought being forced to sit there alone for over an hour was more of a punishment than anything else. After all, I had told them what I was thinking because I didn’t want to do it.  Eventually, they took me to ICU for three days.  There wasn’t much freedom in the regular unit, but there was even less in ICU.  We were only allowed outside into a…

View original 700 more words

A Note To My Fellow Blogospherians

Yes, Blogospherians. It’s a word, I deemed it so.

It has been a bumpy four years since I started this blog. Until recent weeks, I was far too wrapped up in my own darkness to venture outside and risk my fragile mental state by interacting or even acknowledging a world outside of my own.

In the last few weeks, thanks to several who have read and commented, I have forced myself out of my self imposed exile and started to follow other bloggers as well as like and comment. It has been a wonderful experience to find others of a like mind (well, ya know what I mean, bipolar doesn’t like anything) as well as others diagnosed otherwise with their own skeletons.
I thank each and every person who reads this blog. I am grateful for each comment, follow, and like.
And if I do idiotic things when I read your blog (leave too long a comment, come off self absorbed, moronically click like on my own comment because I am an ass clown)..Forgive me. I am socially inept. I can do please, thank you, sir, ma’am. That’s the extent of my social skills. I am TRYING but much like mental stability, social grace seems to not be in my genetic sequence.

It is educational, supportive, and also a little fun (not as in I enjoy people’s misery, but I do love how other minds process, perceive, and express their inner demons.) I am always worried about offending someone. I have my ow views on religion and such, yet so many have faith, I do not at all wish to judge them or deny them their beliefs. I swear a lot, so that’s always in the back of my mind. I don’t get the deal about swearing, I find it therapeutic and also, I was raised by a truck driver so it’s not like I was going to speak like Shakespeare anyway.
Point being, I respect the differing beliefs of others as I hope they do mine and anything I write is of my own screwed up perception, not a personal affront to anyone. (Except Scientologists, I stand by my assessment of them being fuckwit cult members.)

In closing…
I’d like to commend every single mental health blogger on WordPress and any other blog site. It takes so much courage to share your story in a world filled with judgment and stigma. Our words, put out for all to see, is the equivalent of strutting down a main street in a parade completely naked.
And yet we do it. We are brave.
YOU are brave.
And you have my admiration as well as unwavering support in however you choose to handle your disorder/illness/issue/et al.

I hear licking smurfs and snorting sea monkeys helps but ya know…I have mental problems ;)


Going out of town this morning to celebrate Easter with my parents with a visit.  I’ll also give my dad and sister their birthday gifts from when we couldn’t go in March.  So today will be a fun day visiting with them.  I’ll be back to regular blogging on Monday.


One of the hardest things to grasp when you are living with a mental illness is exactly how normal you...

The post Normal appeared first on Pretending to be What We Are.

a-z challenge: e

E is for everything, but I do not love everything.

I wasn’t going to include humans in this challenge theme, but hopefully the fact that he’s a fictional character will negate that, even though in a fantastical world with numerous races, he is, of course, human.

The world is all grown strange.

The world is Middle Earth, the book is The Lord of the Rings, and the man is Éomer.  Almost alone among feminists, I do not give a tinker’s cuss about the gender disparity etc etc in the books. Let me tell you briefly why; because it was the early twentieth century ffs, not to mention Tolkien’s careers. Stop pointing that tampax at me, none of it makes me a vagina traitor or whatever the ferk … etc etc.

Éomer! Éomer was Éowyn’s brother, nephew and adopted son of Théoden King and at the time of the bits you might have seen in the films, was the Third Marshall of the Riddermark. If you’re not a nerd like me die hard fan, you may remember him as the dude who saved Merry and Pippin from the orcs, or possibly as Karl Urban. I hope you remember him at the battles of Pelennor Fields and the Hornburg too.


“It is hard to be sure of anything among so many marvels. The world is all grown strange. Elf and Dwarf in company walk in our daily fields; and folk speak with the Lady of the Wood and yet live; and the Sword comes back to war that was broken in the long ages ere the fathers of our fathers rode into the Mark! How shall a man judge what to do in such times?” (The Two Towers: The Riders of Rohan)

His sword was Guthwine, his horse was Firefoot, he went on to become the king, he married Lothiriel … and I’m not fangirling at all … ahem. Karl Urban will no doubt be thrilled to hear that I like him very well in the role. The character you see on film is a great portrayal of the book version. Éomer is serious, loyal, brave, determined, ethical and generous of spirit. I am totally not sighing like a fanboi now and wishing I was him. Nope. I certainly don’t wish I was one of the Eastmark Rohirrim and could follow him into battle. Not. At. All. E is for escapism too.

Note to Gandalf: Let Éomer kill Grima Wormtongue next time ffs.

Here’s Èomer calling bs on Saruman the Shite:

“Lord, hear me! Now we feel the peril that we were warned of. Have we ridden forth to victory, only to stand at last amazed by an old liar with honey on his forked tongue? So would the trapped wolf speak to the hounds, if he could. What aid can he give to you, forsooth? All he desires is to escape from his plight. But will you parley with this dealer in treachery and murder? Remember Theodred at the Fords, and the grave of Hama in Helm’s Deep!” (The Two Towers: The Voice of Saruman)


No flies on Èomer yo. Not even one. The man is integrity with a helm on top. Rawr. And this, ohhhhh this …

“Out of doubt, out of dark to the day’s rising
I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
To hope’s end I rode and to heart’s breaking:
Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red nightfall!”
(The Return of the King: The Battle of Pelennor Fields)

Brb going to kick some orcs. Stirring stuff. Apart from all the general brave and honest hotness, there is Rohan itself. That’s another thing about the films that made me happy; it’s just as I imagined it. I love the lands, the horses, the banners, the … you get the gist.

I’m so glad that Tolkien gave Éomer a happily ever after.