i just read somewhere that having anger or sad feelings are a normal part of life and that having them shouldn’t make you feel so extreme because they are there and will always be there! You also shouldn’t worry about getting rid of them because they are a normal part of the brain and life.
Follow me?!?
Maybe My brain is telling me something is coming? Or that something needs to be done. It is right! Something need to be done but not with my feelings, with my life. I don’t know how I’m going to do it but my anger has to be a sign for something inside or out of myself.
I wonder if my mediciation has changed my anger in anyway?
Kudos to all those with mental health struggles who are in a stable place and feeling good. You have EVERY right to spew your messages of optimism and self empowerment. But if you are going to put your blog in the mental health category…Perhaps you could put all of your “I’m cured” spewage in a different one? Because while you may think your message of positivity is helping everyone…For some of us, it’s more damaging. Is it fair? Nope. It’s not fair that some people get better and some people continue to struggle no matter how hard they try, either. Perhaps the goal is not to make people feel bad but to plant yourself as an example of “I did it, you can too!” This could be a lifesaver for some. For others, like me, it’s as counter productive as those who believe mental illness to be a fallacy.
Allow me to post some generic, but appropriate examples.
What this sounds like to someone still depressed after months of battles, med changes, and side effects:
If theatre teaches you one thing, it is to stay in the moment, to stay in the now. You drop a line? Let it go. Go on to the next line. If you think about your dropped line, you will miss the next line as well. Let it go, stay in the moment. You dropped your cue? Let it go, move on to the next cue. No time for thinking. If you think about the dropped cue, you will drop the next one too. This is perfect practice for life, yes theatre as practice for life. In your life, you drop a line, it’s done, it’s in the past. Move on, leave the past behind, stay in the moment.
I will NOT drop any lines in the performance tonight! But if I do, I will leave them behind, in the land of abandoned, silent, unfulfilled lines, and I will go on, on stage to give my next lines, the lines that are fortunate and heard, bounced off of the audiences’ eardrums and appreciated by the theatre goers. These lines live in the land of NOW. And it is constantly now and we must stay here and deliver and never worry about what’s past.
The Power of Now, The Power of Theatre!
PS
It was amazing that the audience members who knew Anne Braden, appreciated my performance so well. This is the first time I’ve actually played a historical figure and to get that kind of feedback is priceless!
Pics after tonight’s performance. Wish me “Break a leg!” gentle readers!
I had the oddest dream last night. i had spent the night at my boyfriend’s in an attempt to 1) see him, and 2) to escape my neighbor ( she doesn’t understand that I need a fair amount of people-free time). Anyway, the dream. It was third person and first person so it felt like […]
I’ve had some kind of stomach virus for close to a week and it feels horrible. I’m sore and achey and really just want to go back to the day where I felt ok. Just ok would be amazing.
It helps with my weight loss though. I think I can find better ways to deal with that honestly. Like eating good food. All I’ve had over the past week is crackers and ginger ale.
I’m on my second day without smoking anything. It helps a lot with the nausea but you know if you can’t eat when high that you are really and truly sick.
My mood is what I like to call sucky. You know where you just want to crawl into the lap of someone who loves you and be held? Ya that.
I’m working on writing more. Every other day so far. I hope to get back to posting every day again. It helps with well everything to be able to vent and know you have support.
Thank you bp7o9 and Tessa for the dragon and liebster blog thingies, here we go…
The dragon’s loyalty award rules:
i Display the award image.
ii Announce your win with a post and link to whoever presented your award.
iii Present 15 awards to 15 deserving bloggers.
iv Drop them a comment to tip them off after you’ve linked them in the post.
v Post 7 interesting things about yourself.
I’m not doing the 7 random facts or the 11 random things because I can’t be arsed you know too much about me already, you bastards. You should do them though. Also, I need to stop thinking of the liebster award as the beliebster award. BRB buying mental floss.
The liebster award rules:
i Thank the person/people who nominated you by providing a link to their blog in your Liebster Award post.
ii Give 11 random facts about yourself. Have fun with this one! You get to use bragging rights or things you’ve wanted to get off your chest for a long time, so go for it!
iii Answer the 11 questions from the blogger who nominated you. Know that you can have fun with this as well!
iv Nominate 11 other blogs you admire.
v Ask them 11 questions.
Tessa’s questions:
Thunderstorm or extreme heat?
Extreme thunderstorms, I wish I lived on Thor’s anvil.
Cats or dogs or some exotic pet?
Not exotic, mythic. Dragons.
Brothers and sisters or only child?
Blonde, Brunette, Black or Red hair?
Yes.
Favorite drink?
The tears of my enemies.
Shower or Bath?
I’d have to say bath. I’ve been to Bath, but I have no idea whether there’s a place called Shower. I laughed my ass off at this while trying to find out.
Public school or private?
Public, except for a fairly brief sentence in a convent.
Where was you last trip?
Haven’t taken drugs since I don’t know when, although some bipolar meds came close.
Princess or her maid?
Yes.
My questions: (they’re mostly unfair, so pretend I’ve got a gun to your head and just say the first thing that comes to mind) *sloooowly pulls the safety catch and makes Clint Eastwood eyes at you* What/who is your favourite… (feel free to qualify your answers)
1. Book?
2. Love song?
3. Sad song?
4. TV series of all time?
5. Celebrity?
6. Poem?
7. Quote?
8. Gadget?
9. Website?
10. App?
11. Thing that makes you laugh?
Please link back to this post, so I can be sure to see your answers. No apologies necessary if you don’t do the award thing.
I’m making it better today. I don’t hurt as much–yesterday I had pain even with the painkillers so that wasn’t any fun. My only worry is that my entire belly button region has turned purple. It’s not feverish- feeling or hurting, so I don’t have a need to call the doctor, I don’t think. I’ll wait and see how it does over the weekend.
Everyone is pitching in and helping. That’s always a good thing. Between the girls we got the sheets washed from Tuesday’s changing, so that’s taken care of. I caught up all the laundry before I left for the operation, so that will only need worrying about this weekend. I’m not sleepy like I was yesterday so that is good. I’m just reading news and all on facebook and news sites–I dont’ think I need to try to read my school reading because I’m not sure I’d remember it. :)
We’re getting fed good–our Sunday School class has been bringing by dinner at night and we’ve been having the leftovers for lunch. Last night was lasagne. So good!
I think I may go move around some more Hope everyone has a good weekend!
8:05 a.m., prepping for dish time, and my teeth are grinding, my heart is beating a little too fast, and that sense of dread has wakened pretzel gut. Yay. Throw in a top temp of 93, blinding sunshine, and I just know my day is gonna rule. (Please note sarcasm.) Mind you, I don’t purposely leap out of bed with the intention of declaring everything suckage. And even though it’s suckage, I’m prepared to face it. Maybe even survive it. Magic 8 ball isn’t telling me yet. (Come to think of it, I NEVER leap out of bed ‘cos I’m not a daywalker by choice.)
Yesterday, in spite of the smothering panxiety, I did keep my promises. Ya know, to brave Wally World and get R’s glasses fixed. Only they fucked it up, so I took them to a second place, and they BROKE them. Then the roach killer we ordered came in the mail and it was ant bait. Cos roach and ant look exactly alike, easy to confuse. MORONS. Just a day where in spite of best efforts, nothing seemed to go right. BUT I FUCKING TRIED. Which is a very important thing with anxiety and bipolar disorder and yet in today’s “tough love” world of therapy, they like to focus on your failures more than your tiny victories. Oh, and they do soooo love to say, “Well, you’re doing it, so you must be better.” Um…Fuckest thou. Yesterday drained me, I was cryptified by 7pm because I just couldn’t stand any more input from the outside world. Least with my crime shows I’ve watched them so many times there’s no cliffhanger, no surprises, I know how it ends. Comforting.
Dreams galore. Fucked up bizarre dreams. Wake up, sleep, wake up, sleep. Voodoo and Absinthe both began yowling and making biscuits on my head around three a.m. Demanding food. Because they’re not cats, they’re furry piglets. I got upand fed them of course. Pondered food for myself as I was hungry but I have this thing if I let myself wake up too much…Takes forever to go back to sleep.I couldn’t even be bothered to get a drink of water. Shows you where I am on the food chain here. Kid, cats, outdoor cats, then me. And sometimes I’m too exhausted to bother with me. Not whining, just saying.
And there’s a topic for me to rant on. Since when did voicing a simple statement/opinion/fact become “complaining” or “whining”? “The sky is blue.” “The weather is too hot.” “I have a stomach ache.” “I’m feeling depressed.” HOW IS THAT COMPLAINING? I’m just done with all the sunshine spewage. If that’s you, fine, but it’s not me. I’m not gonna judge someone a whiner simply because they declare they don’t feel well or that life sucks cos their mind is in a bad place. Lame to do that.Also, KARMA. Just remember when you’re in a good place and everything is going right for you so you perceive others as negative or whiny…Life runs in cycles. When you get the flu or shit goes wrong, someone could judge you as a whiner. Empathy and logic.
Ahhh, another excellent rant. GRATITUDE. This one was shoved down my throat from an early age. The whole parental “When I was a kid, I had to walk ten miles in the snow with no shoes…” Um…It’s one thing to be thankful for what you do have. Many have far less. But to be brainwashed into thinking, “I have no right to voice my dissatisfaction because someone has it worse…” It’s self invalidation and it’s bullshit. Now, mind you, there’s legit “I’m grateful but this isn’t optimal” and then there’s just spoiled brat ingratitude.
“I only have an iphone 4 and Biff and Muffy and McStupid have the iphone six, oh woe is me.”
Call a wahhmbulance.
Society grooms us to always want more, want better,want the biggest, or smallest, shiniest newest gidbadget. Yet if you so much as voice that you’d like to have, say, a car without dents or a home with central air…YOU ARE AN UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT.
These things are not bratty tantrums. Much as I like my car (well, technically in my mom’s name but still, I drive it and I love it) it would be nice if I could afford to fix the fender that crazy one bitch drove into and fucked up. I would love a home with all the amenities. Hell, since age 8, when I saw my babysitter’s family had one, I’ve fantasized about a fridge with the water and ice maker in the door. Spiffy!
32 years later, never had one, and I haven’t died. It’s OKAY to want better, to admire the shiny and technologically advanced. It doesn’t translate into, “Poor me to not have all the luxuries I deserve because I am so damned special and being forced to accept what crappy stuff I have is a tragedy.”
There’s rarely a day I don’t feel grateful for all that I have, even if by society’s standards, I am little more than trailer trash driving a beater and my kid and I are wearing used clothes. Considering I have mental health issues and woke up one day on a partial income to discover The Donor had left me a single mom with all the responsibility on me…I have done wondermously in keeping a roof over my kid’s head and meeting her basic needs.
It does not make me ungrateful simply because I have hopes of one day being in a position to give her an actual house with a pretty yard in a better neighborhood. At the moment, though, I am dealing in reality. I’m not gonna let my rent go unpaid so I can own ipads and iphones. I am not gonna let my power get cut off so my kid has shiny new clothes to impress others. I’m also not going to go overboard for her birthday next month to the extent I let things go unpaid, do without food, or take out a stupid “payday” loan. No, that’s what my mom and sister are doing. It’s not that I don’t think my kid deserves a nice birthday. I just deal from a place of logic. She’ll have a modest birthday on my end and as she breaks everything she touches…I don’t feel bad for that. I wish I could do the whole pony rides in the yard and bouncy house thing. I’d have a blast with the bouncy house.
It’s just not in the cards. And me wishing I could afford it doesn’t make me ungrateful for what I am able to provide.
Besides, while everyone else dreams of fancy tech products, fancy cars and houses and designer clothes, and winning the lottery…
My one true wish/dream/hope/fantasy…is to have my mental issues stabilized so that I can WORK and provide a better life for us both.
Now…I guess it’s the morning challenge of “I have to put on pants, damn it.” To my credit, I did shower yesterday. And did dishes. And a bit of laundry. It’s amazing how giving yourself permission to do nothing if you meet one little goal turns out to be so effective. Today’s therapy employees bullying tactics. That doesn’t work for me. No wonder I can’t make progress under that regime.
Where was I? Right. Pants and the dish. At least I get to enter my nightmare with the adorable image of Spook grooming the newbie kittens with a Dora comb. Oddly, the kittens seem to be enjoying it. That or she’s yapped them into submission.
Forget water boarding. Lock terrorists in a room with my child. After the thousandth why in an hour…They’ll beg to tell all.
Read ’em before they pass their sell-by date and get booted from linkdump to rubbish dump.
Seatbelts fastened? Smokes extinguished? Taken your damn meds? Right, we’re kicking off with a look at how much of the world struggles to access help. Lack of resources and stigma affect the first world too, but not like this. And it’s first up, because it’s a passion of mine, and because I try to remind myself as often as possible, just how very fortunate I am. You guys know I’ll beat you up with a haddock if you roll your eyes and mention ‘primitive people’ or the like, right?
“… any sign of deviating from the expected and usual, emotionally and behaviourally, is viewed with a sense of horror. And so the condition festers unheeded till it spirals out of control as in the case of 44-year-old Partha De from Kolkata, who was discovered to be living with the skeletons of his sister and the family’s two pet dogs.”
* 70 mn: Approximate number of people suffering from mental illnesses in India
* 3000: Number of psychiatrists in India
* 11500: Estimated requirement of psychiatrists
* 500: Number of clinical psychologists in India
* 17250: Estimated requirement of clinical psychologists
* 400: Number of psychiatric social workers
* 23000: Estimated requirement of psychiatric social workers Voices in their heads: How India deals with mental disorders
“The mother sits in her room past midnight, after an exhausted Sofia thankfully consumes a sleeping pill dissolved in a glass of milk without any fuss. Her eldest child’s behaviour was increasingly becoming intolerable and abnormal. She racked her brain as to what mistakes she had made raising Sofia and when this anguish would end. She was trying so hard, praying day and night, getting all sorts of amulets and visiting shrine after shrine in hope for respite, but this was of no avail.” How Sofia, Ahmed and Aliya are silently suffering in Pakistan
“Singh lay in hospital. In his early fifties, he was a merchant with a small business that his sons were handling now. He had suffered bouts of depression in the past, which would typically last several weeks. Then he would find himself thrown to the other extreme where he would be very energetic and engulf himself in hectic activity. He would sleep less, talk more and seem overly enthusiastic about situations, both at home and work.” India: Managing manic depression
The title of the next one would make an excellent epitaph for me.
“A manic-depressive, whose highs are really high, and the lows were very low. Not bitchy or gossipy like other women. That is why I came to “love-like” her. And the feeling was mutual.” Uganda: Despite All the Drama, She Was a Good Soul
You’re going to wonder who the Man from Ombokolo is; he’s a Ugandan comedian. None of this is comprehensive, they’re just current items, but here’s one from the first world.
“For us, a typical day would be spent bickering with support staff in the morning over petty, ever-changing rules, followed by group therapy, doing strange artwork-cum-trust exercises with the occupational therapist and watching telly.” UK: I came out of a teenage mental health unit worse than when I went in
I loved the title of the next one, but the content… not so much (even though safety measures are in place).
You guys know me and you know I approve of labels when they’re self identified and owned, so I found this post extremely interesting…
“Specific illnesses, like bipolar disorder, have been recognized in patients for hundreds of years. They needed a way of recording that the same illnesses was being seen in different people.
Doctors need a way of speaking to each other, speaking to you and disseminating information.
Without that pesky “label” we wouldn’t know what to research or what treatments would work on that “symptom cluster.”
And, yes, doctors do have to bill insurance companies for something.
But more than all of that, being “labelled” bipolar can be positive and meaningful to the individual. So many people struggle for so many years with symptoms and have no idea why. Then, suddenly, when they are properly diagnosed, the label “bipolar” is a huge relief because then they know what is wrong and they can finally work to address it.” Avoiding the Label of “Bipolar” — Label phobia (Natasha Tracy)
And here’s some other news and research.
GENEVA (Reuters) – “Rich and poor countries alike must invest more in mental health care, especially during economic crises when rates of depression and suicide tend to rise, the World Health Organization (WHO) said on Tuesday.” A bipolar self portrait
I read the following two, largely because I’m alternately amused and irritated by ‘bipolar is linked to this or that intangible thing’ claims. The dialogue goes round and around like a whirlygig and at the end of the proverbial day, what are we gaining? None of it is personally relevant pre-diagnosis and after that, we’re not really benefitting beyond the stigma assault strategy of saying, “sooo, you think you’re better than us? Well fuck that, WE are better than YOU.” Or, when the links are negative, it all turns precautionary, “oh shit, I’m bipolar, I should be careful about whatever it is we’re now linking to.” Well, numbnuts, you should be anyway. Where links are backed up by hard facts, and when they recognise the fact that stats are flawed, then I’m fascinated.
Does bipolar boost record sales? Are there any numbers on that? Get me numbers, it’d be interesting to know. PS only one of the songs in this section is (supposedly) about bipolar.
He’s one of those “praise the lord and smoke kush, motherfucker” kind of R&B rappers. I’m more into the “preys on words and smokes crack, motherfucker”, but he’s not bad nonetheless.
I am old and boring and I hate the next song.
Billboard and U.K. Music Week charting singer-songwriter Liza Fox released the bold new “I Am Not I” music video to depict her ordeal and raise awareness about bipolar disorder.
From the horse’s mouth… (apologies to any offended horses)
“She was actually diagnosed with chronic manic depression. I never knew about this diagnosis because she never told me about it, I only learned that she had it when I was reading her death certificate.” My mother’s suicide
“Do you suffer from Type II Bipolar Disorder? Boston. If you do and are a woman between the ages of 18 and 45, you may be eligible for a research study at McLean Hospital. The study involves a 2 hour interview and an MRI scan of your brain. You will be paid up to $200 for participating in the study. If you are interested, contact Dr. Brad Reich through Craig’s List or at 617-855-2935 ”
You probably know this one already: Just Another Lab Rat (resources re volunteering for studies)
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