Daily Archives: March 14, 2016

The Spoon Theory And Why It’s Kinda Bullshit

You’ve heard the Spoon Theory, right? We all get a certain number of spoons per day.  Spoons equal energy, or spoons equal actions.  Once you use up your spoons, you’re done for the day.  You can’t do anything else.  And theoretically us bipolar types don’t get so many spoons (unless we’re manic, then there’s the dilemma of unlimited spoons).  So I totally get this and I ascribe to this and I consider myself to have very few spoons at my disposal.  SIDE NOTE:  Why spoons?  Why not forks?  Or tokens?  Gold coins?  I have no fucking idea.  I didn’t make this shit up.  I’ve only heard of it.  Some fuck said spoons so I’m going with it.  END SIDE NOTE. As I was saying, I don’t feel like I’m bursting with spoons.  I have a helluva time just getting up and showering, most days, let alone doing laundry or, God forbid, COOKING A MEAL!!  That would almost require hypomania for me.  But!  Then I get into crisis mode like I’m in now, with Dad in the hospital, and my Mom is sick with the cold that Dad had that turned into pneumonia.  All of this requires me to rise above the Spoon Theory.  And ya know what I call it when I can do wayyyyy more than I would ever think that I could? A State of Grace. That’s all I can think of!  It’s like the Universe, or the spoon giver, or whatever or whomever the fuck, said this chick needs to function on a higher level right now.  Let’s throw out every belief she has about how she thinks she can function, and give her a reprieve!  Because I am functioning at a level I could not have previously imagined.  I am there for my Dad and Mom.  I am driving all over creation, seeing my Mom, seeing my Dad, hanging in the hospital for hours, being in the moment, talking to my Dad, and accepting life as it is right now.  Who is this person?  This is not me!  This is some kind of gift!  I am supremely grateful for this time with my Dad.  Yes, when I get home, I’m tired, and I feel depleted, but in the moments that I’m meant to be of service to my family, I am able to do that, to help, to be present, to feed my Dad, get a nurse, whatever, with total serenity.  And no, I am absolutely not manic.  So what this tells me, is that theories like the Spoon Theory may have their place, but there are times when we can rise above our illness.  Maybe this will last for a few days, or maybe it will stretch for a few weeks, but for however long, I’m grateful to be the strong one for someone else, for a change.  And when I get in that car, and I feel like I just can’t do it, I remind myself that I am stronger than I think I am, and I can do more than I know.  And then I go.

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar Coping, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Hope, Humor, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader, The Spoon Theory

Sunshine and Roses

I feel like I am moving out of my latest depression, it has stuck around for more than a month. I am happy to report that I was more functional during this level of depression than I ever have been before. I only missed one day of work. I only hid inside my bedroom after […]

Sunshine and Roses

I feel like I am moving out of my latest depression, it has stuck around for more than a month. I am happy to report that I was more functional during this level of depression than I ever have been before. I only missed one day of work. I only hid inside my bedroom after […]

Sick Still

The youngest one seemed fine when we sent her to school, but she started complaining about her stomach hurting again once she got there.  I had headed out shopping with my oldest before my husband called to tell me the school called him and she was running a low-grade fever.  So we had to rush back and pick her up from school.  I have a doctor’s appointment set for 2:40 p.m. so we will see if it is a relapse and how long she will have to stay home from school.

I have a therapy appointment tomorrow that I ‘m too late to cancel.  So my oldest has agreed to take care of her tomorrow morning so I can go, I hate she is not having fun on her spring break.  But she goes back early so maybe she can have fun with her friends while she is there.

I’m trying to stay active and stay awake to take care of her.  It’s hard.  I have another essay due soon and will need to work that up soon.  I have three things I am wrestling with writing about–I want people to like it.  So I’m taking a Facebook vote on it and will see how the voting goes.

Hope everyone on spring break THIS week has a good one.  Hope it’s going better than mine.



Weekly Wrap-Up March 14, 2016

I’m excited to present this weeks Weekly Wrap-up. Nothing but positives that I can think of. Sunday night I ended on a high as I looked back and saw how great my week has been. Mood Balanced, balanced, balanced is how I’d describe the week. It’s the first time I felt this good in a […]

The post Weekly Wrap-Up March 14, 2016 appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.

On Today’s Episode Of The Dumb and The Clueless…

2014-08-24-316-psychiatric-helpTHIS. I want ice pick lobotomies performed on my family.

Whether you follow or not, the fact is I am mid fundraising campaign to pay for, license, insure, etc a car my dad acquired for me without my consent and now I am indebted to him and every other cock weasel around. On the good side…Minus the fundraiser site’s fees, I am just about thirty bucks shy to get it all licensed and fueled and oil change and all that crap “before it’s safely road ready”. Yay. You are all some awesome NON cockweasel folks.

(In case you are new to this spewage receptacle called my blog. MAMANEEDSACAR  is the sob story that yes, even makes me wanna smack myself.)

After I’d posted the fundraiser cos all  “you owe for the car” and “you have to license it or they will tow it away” had me so panicked I was ready to gargle ebola coated razor bloods….I went to pick my kid up at my mom’s.

This is where it gets super cockweasel-y.

There’a a  maroon Buick parked there and I assume it’s one of them all having company. Instead I go inside and my is all like, “See my new car your dad bought me at auction this morning? It was only four hundred and he’s gonna let me make payments on it to him.”





I am a single mom on a fixed income. My mom lives with two others and they have a combined income of four grand a month. I haven’t received one child support payment. And my dad, who divorced this woman 20 years ago…went to auction and got HER a better car than what is supposed to haul around his grandchild! AND she gets to make payments whereas he can’t even loan me enough to license this car he got me without my consent? Yes, I need a different car, but this was all started because my mom wanted her brown car back. Now apparently, dad is gonna take the brown and car and have it scrapped and take that off my mom’s debt to him.

I am just…I have no words. It’s like some reality TV show that runs in an endless loop and I am looking for the ice pick to do my own lobotomy to escape.

I left mom’s that day basically in tears. I mean, knowing how hard I struggle and my dad had that money to buy a car outright for more than what it would take to get me on the road and them off my back….How can it not boggle the mind? How can he so hurtful?

Suffice it say I have been livid since then. Principles and all that. To top it all off he apparently had a chat with my sister and apologized to her because he’s bought me more cars than he ever has her. UM…NO,motherfucker. I paid half on my first car as was the deal. This brown car cash was paid in the demanded amount. They handed down a car. THey gave me a couple of beat up Olds’ they paid a hundred bucks for and I babysat my brother for months to work that off…’

It may make me a monster but I hate these fucking people sometimes.

Let’s just top that off with all the rain and gloomy and my racing brain and the lithium doesn’t feel like it’s working the same but then I had to come off Cymbalta so maybe it won’t work at all without that combo for all I know…

This bullshit about life never giving you more than you can handle needs an ice pick lobotomy too.

Now…I mocked this up just for shits and giggles so…If you can’t donate, don’t worry about it but do use all that social media detritus to pass it around if you would. Maybe I can raise enough to ship my toxic family to some third world country.


Clicky Thingie Ma Bob a Jig


A brave heart beats

The fascination about a mantra is, if it’s repeated often enough, you might just be able to trick your mind into believing it as a truth. One of the first […]

A brave heart beats

The fascination about a mantra is, if it’s repeated often enough, you might just be able to trick your mind into believing it as a truth. One of the first […]

Recolor 😊

I colored these on an app called recolor. I think I have fallen in love with coloring all over again. At first it seemed tedious, but by the time I was done with the 2nd one I did, the flower bouquet in a vase, I was amazed and very happy with myself and the beautiful thing I’d created. It’s really fun! I’m planning on doing lots more.    


One Word – RUN

Each year I choose a word.  One word to define the year.  No specific goals really.  Just a direction.  A focus.

Last year my word was HEAL.  This year it's RUN.

I take my time choosing my word.  I think about it.  I ponder it.  I pray about it.  I spend a good long time observing my life, myself, the world.  And, eventually, it comes to me.

The thing is, my word is all-encompassing.  It's about every part of my life.  It's about physical, emotional, spiritual - everything.  So it's usually a word that can be used in many different ways, that can mean many different things.

RUN is different.  At least I think it is.

I never know how a word will play out.  I choose it at the beginning of the year; then at the end of the year I review.  I'm always amazed at how the word fits into all the little corners of my life.  If you read my post about last year's word, you'll see what I mean.

But right now, at this point in the year, I still can't see how my word is going to be anything but physical.

That's okay.  Maybe my word will work differently this year.  But I don't think so.  I think somehow it truly will play out in many areas of my life.

For now, I'm going to let it be what my heart wants it to be.  I want to run.

I can't believe I just wrote that sentence.  Honestly, I've mocked my running friends for years.  Although I liked to run as a child and played a lot of sports growing up, once my body changed proportions at around 14 the desire to run just for fun was gone.  Running seemed like work.  It was great for softball, a lot of work for basketball, and something I only coached for soccer.  No longer of interest to me.

My interests shifted away from sports at 14.  I joined marching band, which became my life.  Running was unnecessary.  By the time I graduated high school, I'd left any desire to run long behind.  It wasn't even visible in my rearview mirror anymore.

I got married.  I had kids.  And fifteen years ago my body fell apart.  The world fell out from under me.  I went to bed for a year and a half.

I've written about that a lot (here, here, and here are just a few).  So I'll keep it short and just say, I've been clawing my way back ever since.

Last year was my year of healing.  It led to this year - the year I will run.

Because I will.

So far this year my life and my body have fought me.  A lot.  A month of super long hours of reclamation work at our rental left me with no energy to work toward running.  Then I was hit with a bout of bronchitis for two weeks in early February, difficulty breathing and incredible fatigue.  And another bout of bronchitis from the end of February through early March.  And if there's one thing I need to be able to do if I'm going to run it's breathe.  I do have to breathe.

Right now I am still scratchy-throated.  I still feel like I'm breathing through gauze.  But that's better than feeling like I'm trying to breathe through a rock, which is how it felt when I started.

I believe it's getting better.

It will get better.

And then I will run.