Daily Archives: June 30, 2015

Media Hog

it annoys me that we, as Americans, allow the media to sway us. It annoys me that we listen to what we hear or read instead of thinking for ourselves. Sure it’s much easier just to go with the flow, whichever side of the flow you are on, but really it doesn’t help. 

I know it’s probably completely out there to believe that a person can be a Christian and a complete believer in Jesus and saved by His grace, but also wonder why we spend so much time condemning others. Whether this country legalizes gay marriage, abortion, murder, or whatever other thing you can plug in, has no bearing on MY faith and MY relationship with God. I don’t feel the need to be hateful because someone else’s sins (in my eyes). Ultimately God is everyone’s judge and I don’t know what He will take into account when I stand before Him. But I sure hope that Because He knows me that my brain malfunctioning will come into account on my behalf. If I hope that for myself, than don’t I have an obligation to allow that for other people? Like my opinion matters anyway. 

Also, if we look closely and pay attention when Christians are seemingly backed into a corner they usually show u big time with their actions. Case in point Chick-fil-A is now number one in fast food brands. What?!?!?!? McDonald’s has held that distinction for too many years to count. It’s a little humorous to me that just a couple years ago there where people trying to throw stones at them and put them out of business. Do you see my point? When Gods people show up and stand together we are not stoppable. Even when we don’t always get along or see everything the same way. 

I have been sitting with my Bipolar diagnosis for right at a year. I have learned so many things in this year and I continue to see new things almost daily. I by no means am perfect at this, but I try to remember that people live thru their experiences. Through what they have learned, how they were raised, how they were treated, who loves them, and even if they have ever known what true love is. It’s very hard for people like me that has an amazing family to even try to comprehend how others can do things so differently. I can’t imagine going months/years without seeing my kids by MY choice. I can’t imagine not being able to look at my actions and say, “I was wrong, and I am sorry”. I don’t understand how people are abusive, in any manor, and I don’t understand how people who are abused as adults manage to even be halfway together. 

When you start to look form the perspective of complete chaos it becomes a lot easier to understand how maybe things don’t change so easily. I am blessed that I had the background to back up my healing. My meds allow me to act the way I think and to make myself think in different ways. I don’t care what anyone says I’m going to stand up for what I think and what I believe. If the media wants to be negative I can’t stop them. But I can at least in my life try to counteract that. I can learn the facts and I can share them. I can talk about Gods love and grace. After all isn’t that what Jesus died for. And I can be kind and real with those I come in contact with. As I learn more about myself and see myself through a different view I am learning that nothing is as simple as we would often like to make it. But one thing is certain to me. There is way too much negative and not enough positive going around. And the only way to start to change that is to work on finding the positives for ourselves in our daily lives. Be blessed!!



So I have been feeling anxious lately. About everything and anything. I am even anxious about this blog. Are people enjoying it? Am I writing enough? Too much? Are my followers getting their “money’s” worth? Am I staying true to my title of “bipolar and recovery”?

Parts of this anxiety are relatively new. I’ve always been sort of a half empty person. A little on the negative side. I tend to ruminate on things. I always imagine the worst possible scenario. Until I grew up and met a lot of other adults, I thought everyone felt this way.

Lately, my anxiety has been really intensified. You may or may not know that my diagnosis is bipolar II with psychotic features. There is nothing in there about anxiety. But I am starting to wonder.

Before I panic, I have to consider one of my new meds. I am taking Abilify. It’s got a lot of side effects. Here are some of the “most common” less serious side effects: headache, anxiety, trouble swallowing or choking (this is MINOR?), and some weight gain. So all of this anxiety I am feeling may have a chemical cause.

But I am willing to deal with it. The Abilify is what is getting me off of the couch.

My anxiety starts in the mornings. I have been waking up at 4 or 5 and just laying there fretting. My husband doesn’t get up till 8 or so, so I am quietly alone with the dogs at those hours. I’ve tried to be proactive. I’ve listened to audiobooks and music. The last few days I have started taking a Klonopin (.5) and trying to fall back asleep. Sometimes this works and sometimes not.

So what do I worry about at 4 am? Dumb stuff. My biggest thing is what I have on the calendar for the day. I try to think of ways to cancel so I can stay in bed or on the couch. This is a little ridiculous. None of my days are exactly filled with terrible activities. I worry about my future. Who will care for me if my husband dies? (He turns 60 this week, so suddenly age is a thing.) I worry about having enough money. That’s a little silly as I would be fine. Not wealthy, but fine.

So on my relaxed calendar, I still fret. Let’s say I am meeting a friend for lunch. I worry about whether I need a shower or not, what clothes to wear (will I look too fat?), driving, and will my friend show up? (Even though I always text in the morning to make sure.) So I try to think of valid or made up reasons to cancel. Do I have a headache? Is there possibly another activity I have to do? Should I just plain out lie?

My husband gets up about 8 and I am feeling pretty nervous. But I find a lot of solace in my computer. I’m all comfortable on the couch by then and don’t feel like going anywhere.

If I HAVE to go somewhere 9 am is the best time. I just get up and get ready as I am and go. I don’t panic about how I look. And I feel good about getting it over with.

In the early evening I get nervous, because I am bored. I worry something will go wrong with my life (uh, it already has).  I worry my daughter will be killed and left by the side of the road. (I watch too many murder shows.) I worry my boys will get in car wrecks or arrested for DUI or possession or something. Lots of my friends’ kids have been going through stuff like this.

I also have a weird feeling during various times that I am in trouble. I have no idea where this comes from. I am a fairly law abiding citizen. I treat my family well, so I don’t think they’d yell at me.

I am terrible anxious about my kids moving away. None of them have made any noise about moving out of town, but I don’t know how I would handle it. I just feel too fragile.

I have driving anxiety. Once I get in the car I am fine, but I get nervous thinking ahead. I don’t want to drive on the freeway or downtown. And I hate to back up after parking.

My psychiatrist has the perfect answer to anxiety: Klonopin. But I worry about adding this into my routine. I don’t think I will get addicted, but it is always something to think of. I am all for Xanax or Klonopin as needed on occasion, but not all of the time. This opinion is only for me, not for you!

So opinion time, folks. Do you think this is from Abilify? If so, should I keep taking it since it gets me going? What do you think about the Klonopin?

I realize you all are not doctors, but frankly, many of you know as much as doctors.

Thanks for any advice. I’m anxious to see if I get any responses 🙂


The War Has Been Won

Just got the Social Security Disabilities report today. It has been determined that I am indeed disabled due to Bipolar disorder and PTSD, and benefits have been continued. I knew they were wrong……Filed under: disability benefits Tagged: Bipolar Disorder, Social Security, Win

Cymbalta Induced Hypomania

I’m out of bed. Medicated. As usual, the morning dose of Cymbalta has given me this hypomanic boost. It doesn’t last long, but it’s still a nice start to a day you’re not looking forward to. At this moment, I am feeling creative and listening to music and yet…I still don’t want to enter the dish or deal with R. After four days inside, I really should want to be around others, get out of the house. Yet I don’t. I finally got the anxiety at a comfortable volume. Now it’s gonna be turned up again and I don’t want it to be. Dealing with the dish is a part of life I have to deal with but my mental state is so much better when that forced interaction is by choice and controlled on my part. With anxiety, it’s less being a control freak and more a desperate need to be able to escape when it hits. That’s why I’ve always loathed going places with other people. Then I am at their mercy because they drove and there’s no true escape.

Also no escape is R. He habitually says shit like, “Can you pop by for an hour or so?” And then four hours later, I’m still there because he wants to have a smoke break every ten minutes, wander aimlessly “thinking” or he’s working on something and “can’t think of what he wanted me to do” at the moment. It’s frustrating as fuck. Especially when I have my kid with me or the anxiety is particularly bad. I know I’m a big grudge holder, but sometimes, I think it’s warranted. I can never forget when I got a call telling me my kid had hurt her eye at mom’s and I wanted to bolt to check on her and he had the audacity to say, “Can you go get my beer first?” Who the fuck does that without realizing what a complete ass they’re being? I should let it go but I’ve been taught well by those around me. Every misdeed of mine can be dredged up at any time. Cuts both ways.

I should just go, rip off the band aid, so to speak. What I don’t get is if he just needs parts ordered why he can’t give me the numbers and let me do it from home. So much easier for me that way, I have all his account info so there’s no need for me to actually go there other than his dislike of not having an audience to make him feel less alone. As irritating as he finds my kid and my moods, you’d think it’d be an ideal solution. As is the running joke with R and Kenny, though, logic has no place there.

I wrote six more pages last night. It’s like trudging uphill in molasses because I really am not feeling *that* necessary spark and the original draft is long gone, lost with an ass tone of my stuff when R’s basement flooded years ago. (Not that you can find anything that actually reads an old double density disk now anyway.) Other than a general idea and the main characters, I am starting from scratch. But the idea is inspired by Skid Row’s song “18 And Life” so I have an idea where I need to go. Just getting there is the challenge. I’m not in my hot zone where the words flow like so much venom spewing. Still…Writing  a little is better than not writing at all.

AND I am listening to music again. Given, I can’t do it in long spurts or play it too loud but I’m taking baby steps. And resenting that I even need to take baby steps. This mental illness shit sucks. You get better, you get worse, you sink and go under, you emerge, then do it all again. Or at least it’s like that for me. Maybe I am just a freak.

I slept last night, in spurts. Kept waking up with Absinthe curled up beside me. My sister told me she’d given me the bitchiest kitten of the bunch and can’t believe I’ve turned her into a cuddle bug. I have a way with cats. I suck with people skills. If they were just more like cats…

Right out of the gate this morning I saw a reblog where the blogger got all these comments from some troll about how “fat people should be forced to lose weight for the good of society.”

Stupid people should be shot for the good of society.

Seriously…How about you fat shamers back the fuck off? Because it’s your idea of perfection that creates a world full of people with eating disorders trying to meet some ideal that may just not be in their genetics no matter how much they starve themselves.

AND…Everyone has an opinion and they all differ. I remember watching an episode of Ghost Whisperer when the donor was still here and he said, “Look at the size of her ass!” Jennifer Love Hewitt is like a size two or size zero, for fuck’s sake. I’m like extra large and bigger in clothes, so what does that say about my ass size? There’s just no way any of us can meet the ideals of others. So let us be who we are and fuck off because if we were assholes like the fat shamers, we could find a dozen flaws about them we personally think they should change.

What day is complete without something to rant about?

I should get dressed. I don’t think I am going to. Not feeling it. Yet. Kind of like to ride out the Cymbalta high before I make any choices, otherwise I might go out with no pants and clown shoes on my feet. Mania of any sort makes you a little wacky. I suppose the fact it sets of hypomania with each dose should worry me. After months of being utterly insane…I like the boost. As long as it doesn’t turn full blown mania, I’m good. And the dr has made it clear that 60mg is as high as he is gonna take me on this anti depressant. Which is weird because I thought 90 was the therapeutic psych dose. Of course, with bipolar, it’s a tightrope act trying to find the happy medium where the med helps but doesn’t spark mania.

Tightrope act. That pretty much describes bipolar and anxiety. With my lack of coordination and balance…it’s no wonder I’m constantly falling on my face. Or it could just be that I was hypomanic and decided to try to walk the tightrope while wearing big clunky clown shoes.


On the Couch: questions 5 – 10

Answering these 31 questions on Bipolar (piecemeal as it is) does get me thinking about my ‘condition’ as a separate entity. For so long I have viewed it as almost an extension of myself. Hi, my name is Edel and … Continue reading

Looks Like Rain

It’s thundering and overcast here–hopefully the rain will blow through quickly and my little one can go swimming this afternoon.  We will see.  It’s looks more like November outside than June right now

I’m getting to where I’m not even hearing the alarm clock go off in the morning I’m so sleepy.  Bob had to wake me up to say bye in the morning today.  I’m doing as much sleeping as I can get away with so maybe I will have more energy, but it just doesn’t work that way.

FInished the.book I was talking about–the Howard book.  It held up throughout the entire reading.  I was so gratified at the ending and how well it turned out.  It gave me hope for the future of fiction in America.  If only more books as humane and honest as that one were published.

SO now I’m waiting on the rest of my books to come in from Barnes and Noble.  I’ll hopefully finish them all before October  THat is the idea anyway.

three quotes three days #1

Annie made me do it.

Three thrice throw thrum…

The meme is simple, write a post about three quotes; one a day for three days. Nominate three people to do a threesome the meme too. I decided to continue the theme by quoting three posts which include the word ‘three’ over three days (confused yet?).

Here’s the quote I liked first, along with the image I liked best…


Three things cannot be hidden, the sun, the moon and the truth.

… but quotes by Buddha are often erroneous and it’s always worth checking them on Fake Buddha Quotes (I can’t believe it’s not Buddha) first. Lo and behold, although it was a paraphrase of the original, the verdict was – fake.


Here’s the original quote…

Monks, there are these three things which shine forth for all to see, which are not hidden. Which three?

The disc of the moon shines for all to see; it is not hidden. The disc of the sun does likewise. The Dhamma-Discipline [dhamma-vinaya] of a Tathagata [Buddha] shines for all to see; it is not hidden. These are the three things.



My intention to wax lyrical about the fake (but elegant quote were cruelly dashed to the ground and thoroughly stomped upon. It’s probably just as well. If I didn’t have the fakery to waffle about, the waxing lyrical would have made me look stupid anyway. While I was thinking about it, I thought of a rebuttal that sounds like a riddle.

The sun is hidden at night, the moon is hidden during the day and some lies are never uncovered.

Take that, Fake Buddha, stick it in your prayer wheel and spin it.

Today’s nOMinees are brought to you by the letter S.

the spanglish one
the swinging
the strong one

Dish Triggers

After three days of little dish exposure and some semblance of a return to sanity…It was shattered. R called, asking me to pop by the shop tomorrow. Suddenly my anxiety sky rockets, my mood is tainted, and I am filled with dread. This, from doing a favor for a friend. Not scary, not something I haven’t done a hundred times…Just the anticipation of going out in the dish with its noise and traffic and people triggers me. Add to it my mom and sister are both sick thus contagious so I have to take Spook with him and that annoyed His Royal Assholiness.

On the plus side, I might get a pack of smokes out of it. On the sucky side, IT’S THE FUCKING DISH AND ITS DWELLERS.

I was doing so well. Now I don’t even feel like I can breathe, let alone write or enjoy the evening. It was always this way with jobs, too. That pending expectation, my trying to do battle with my own anxiety to meet those expectations and so often failing. The only time I could sleep, truly relax, sleep, and enjoy myself, was the night before my first day off. Then the second night would signal going back the following day and the anxiety would ramp up all over again. Some things never change, no matter how much you adapt your attitude. Triggers are triggers.

Makes me so mad how avoiding foods that cause you physical pain is viewed as smart yet avoiding situations that make you physically ill is considered some sort of bad coping mechanism.

It’s not 8:30 yet and already I am sweating over tomorrow’s dish adventure. Gotta get the spawn to sleep, get cryptified myself, so I can start the process of falling asleep three hours from now. Mind you, he didn’t tell me a specific time, probably lunch so I can fetch him food, but…The anxiety doesn’t care if it’s logical. Throw in an itchy ear and nose, which thanks to my mother and her idiotic superstitions convince me someone is talking bad about me and I am about to get a call or visit that is bad…

I was doing so well. And I want to be this super badass who doesn’t let it shake me. What I want to be and what I am are very different things. This “mindfulness” and forcing yourself to “buck up” pisses me off. If I could, I would. I want to be me again, and not for a couple of months a year when the meds decide to half ass work. I want to be so stable I see my shrink every six months. I want to be on the same combo that works regardless of my outer circumstances, my anxiety, my fiances…If I can perceive it all clearly and consistently, I can make it work. It doesn’t happen that way with my plethora of dysfunction.

I will just put one foot in front of the other and muddle through. Breathe again after tomorrow, I guess. Though every day I check my mailbox waiting for that response from the disability people is one more day I’ve lived in terror rather than actually being able to focus on my well being.

I can do this. I can do this. Maybe if I write it on a chalkboard a hundred times it will imprint. Though that shit never worked in school, I still chewed gum and talked to friends.

At least I bathed today and did the dishes. It’s not much but it’s something. I’m gonna keep telling myself that, too.