Daily Archives: August 19, 2016



They will say whatever they want, do whatever they want, think whatever they want, whenever they want. There’s nothing we can do about it, nothing I can do about it. People who you thought were your friends will call you a narcissist, nothing you can do about it. You are not a narcissist, all your true friends know that. Or do they? How do you know what anyone thinks? How do you know whom to trust? Can you trust anyone at all? Are we not just animals with animal brains, thinking animal thoughts that come out of the animal amalgamation, the chemical concoction in our brains. Half the time we don’t even know why we feel the way we do, how can we possibly know how someone else feels and why and what will come out of their mouth?

Let me just tell you honestly, so you can laugh your head off, I have always given my friendship unconditionally to my friends, trusted them wholly, and they could trust me completely, I’ve been their friend with no conditions. But I am not really sure that is the right thing to do. Of course, and again, here I am being stupidly sincere, I don’t know what the right thing to do is… it’s just that when someone you think is your friend calls you a narcissist, well, it doesn’t feel good. And it sort of shakes up your beliefs and it rattles your trust in other people. Does everyone think I’m a narcissist and just hasn’t said it to my face? Do they think worse? No, I admit, I am decidedly no angel, but when I think of you as my friend, I do think of you well.

Anyway… I’ll get over it. I know I am not a narcissist, and so do my close friends… I think… I don’t want what someone said to me, maybe carelessly, maybe not, to change who I am and how I think and behave, but for now it has, like a brand new Ferrari 458 Italia red can get dented in a collision… I feel dented, maybe time will hammer out the dents and give me a fresh coat of fire engine red paint. Maybe not. Ooops, is that narcissistic???



Who am I anyway?

On a quest to find my identity outside of work and outside of bipolar disorder. I’ve always been a passionate, and quite possibly over involved, person when it comes to my job. Whether its case manager (previously) or project manager (currently) I obsess over whether I am providing excellent guidance to my “people.”
I can tell you who I used to be with ease: tennis player, runner, fitness junkie, concert goer, lover of the beach, social, engaged, hiker, friend, loyal, sensitive, empathetic, energetic, sober and willing.
Now? I’m not so sure. I am still a concert goer, but it is so hard for me to stay present. I am still a hiker, nature is important to my mental health. Continue to be sensitive and empathetic. I think I was born that way. I do love the beach. The smells, the sounds, the feeling of walking on sand are all soothing to me. It feeds my soul. And I simply do not make my way to the great sea often enough!
As I see it right now, I can no longer cast myself in an athletic light. I would go trail running every weekend up until a year ago. I took a hard fall during a manic episode and ended up at the ER. Walked away with 15 stitches, bruises up and down the right side of my body and a black eye. I think my ego was hurt the most. The funny part is I hike that trail and often wonder how I even ran on that terrain. Don’t be fooled I maybe hike it once per week. I have stopped working out pretty much altogether. For no reason. Other than I lost all motivation. Meanwhile I feel awful in my body and hate what I see in the mirror.
Let’s cut to the chase. Who am I on this day in 2016? A wife who is very lucky to have such a supportive and loving husband. I’m a project manager. Im a writer. a very caring person who takes relationships seriously, yet can’t seem to keep any going beyond my husband and brother. I’m very sensitive. Easily confused by social situations and assume most breakdowns are my fault. Empathetic. Patient. Diligent. Uncertain. Ive never been more uncertain about my distance and place in this world. Constantly, and I mean constantly, battling myself. I’m an introvert!
I’m a wanter: I WANT to workout, try yoga, finish what I start, express myself in the real world, accept myself, find my place. But, what do I do instead? Sit on the couch, recline and try to sleep. I have no gumption. There was a time I had non stop energy for almost 4 years. Bootcamp before work, work, then 2-3 hrs of competitive tennis 3-4 days after work. Now, I can barely get out of bed and it’s all I can do not to go back to bed once I arrive home from work at 4pm.
I’m probably off topic. This is the vicious circle I get into. Reflect on how I used to be, wish I could be that way again. When I can’t or I’m just not, I get angry and disappointed in myself. Then I become a slug on the couch. Sigh. I’m just so tired.
“It’s a marathon, not a sprint.” “Your time will come.” “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
All things folks have kindly said to me. Smile and nod. Smile and nod. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, it’s just. I mean. I’d like to say, walk a mile in my head. Then come back and tell me those cliche’s again.
Yah, so my identity. Some days I have no clue who I am. The up and down roller coaster of emotion, the delusions, paranoia impact my sense of self. Just last week I was convinced I was some sort of CIA operative. At my core, what little I have left, I do know I am full of loving kindness. I’m not always able to show it or express it, but it’s there. My heart is big. When it’s not extra heavy it exudes compassion. Mostly for others, but that’s another topic.
If there was one thing I want you to know about me, the real raw fanatic, is that I am scared to let you into my inner world. I am scared it is too much for you and ultimately you will walk away. So I hide. Smile and nod some more. It can be lonely. But somehow it feels safer.

This Weeks “Caption This” Winner

It was another difficult week choosing a winner of this week’s Caption This contest . Here is the picture that was posted on Wednesday:   The Winner The winner of this week’s Crotchety’s Golden Unicorn Award is… Josh Wrenn for President Trump’s Cabinet I took a risk going the political route, but Josh’s post is short, sweet and made me laugh. …

The post This Weeks “Caption This” Winner appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.

Almost Hipster

I like to write in a hipster-type coffee shop downtown in my city.  It’s pretty fabulous: think exposed brick walls, floor tiles older than me, and a teal and neon green ceiling.  The shop has fair trade everything, baristas who wear skeleton shirts and call you “dude” even if you’re a girl, and a clientele including mostly millennial generation tattooed people with Coexist stickers on their cars and backpacks.

Don’t ask me why I love it…I’m a conservative Christian school teacher who dresses like a Puritan and has no tattoos (though I’m maybe working on that latter part).  Maybe that’s exactly why I love this place – there’s a part of me that identifies with these people, and I feel a little at home here.  It also feels so wildly different from my real life that it’s like I have a mini-escape from my normal existence whenever I need it.  Sometimes I need it.

Today I decided to try to fully assimilate with this crowd.  I can be one of them! I thought optimistically.  This came about because our car broke down (again).  If we were rich, my husband might have bought me a new car so that I could stop driving mine.  It’s as old as a high school junior.  We’re not rich, however, so he bought me the next best (aka most affordable thing): a bike lock!  I have a bike I bought for $10 at a garage sale  earlier this summer, and that bike paired with my new shiny bike lock gave me UNLIMITED FREEDOM!  Unlimited freedom within about a ten mile radius around my house, that is.  Hey, at least I don’t have to stay home all day.

I quickly decided I would bike to my coffee shop.  Showing up on a bike would be so hipster, I decided.  I’m protecting the environment.  People who drive cars are melting the polar ice caps and clearly hate baby polar bears.  I am proving my love for baby polar bears by riding a bike instead of driving today.

Armed with that wonderfully hipster thought, I decided to continue my trend.  What else could I do to fit in?  I tried to find my husband’s thick-rimmed square glasses so I could wear them while working.  I think thick-rimmed glasses always make people look suave and intelligent.  20/20 vision is for idiots.  I don’t actually need glasses, but I could have worn them for a while to get the right “look.”  Alas, I couldn’t find them.

Then I decided to put on a temporary tattoo, because everyone here has tattoos.  I know I have some from an old bachelorette party somewhere.  They’re mostly cheesy hearts or dice that say “lucky in love” or other weird things like that. I would have to hope people didn’t look too closely at my tattoo.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the tattoos.  My hipster look was not going as planned.

While looking for the tattoos, I found a great scarf that my grandma gave me a while ago.  It’s made of 100% all natural materials, and I bet in a pinch I could probably eat it or smoke it.  It would be perfect for a place like this!  The problem with the scarf was that it’s the middle of August (aka HOT), and I would be riding across town on my bike.  In retrospect, though, I regret not bringing the scarf.  Heat be damned.  I could have rocked it.

I finally decided on faded jeans, a neon green shirt, and a ponytail.  I was going to wear no makeup (because natural is beautiful, dude), but then I had to put on a little makeup.  I mean, you never know when you might run into an ex-boyfriend or the mayor or something.  I didn’t want to look scary.  Me without any makeup is a little scary.

Now I’m sitting here writing this blog and drinking my iced tea.  I almost ordered my tea “on the rocks” to sound cool, but I wasn’t sure if that would make me sound hipster or just vaguely alcoholic.  I decided I’m still a Level 1 hipster.  I might even be below Level 1 if that’s an option.  It’s a while before I will be advanced enough to try zippy lingo and wear no makeup.

Once I’m finished writing this blog post I’ll go back to working on my novel.  When people ask why I go to this shop so much and I say, “to work on my book,” they get all judgy.  They give me the sympathetically amused glance that adults give to high schoolers who say that they’re “in a band” and they’re “going to make it someday.”  You know what I think?  I think that for every garage band that didn’t make it, they had countless hours of fun banging away on keyboards and feasting on dreams.  What’s wrong with that?  It’s better than binge-watching Netflix or smoking crack, amirite? (That’s “am I right,” but a hip and fun way to write it.  You’d understand if you were cool).  Anyway,  I like writing.  Even if my novels never see a bookshelf, I won’t stop writing them.  Let me enjoy banging away on my keyboard and feasting on my dreams.  Different type of keyboard, same principle.

Gotta go.  My favorite indie rock song just came on (kidding.  I don’t listen to indie rock.  I’m not even exactly sure what it is).

Recollections of the Macabre, the Furry and the Fat

  Alpine Meadows, home to the Squaw Valley-Alpine Meadows Ski Resort, is incredibly beautiful. We’ve been coming here for years to stay at the funky “Munchkin” cabin. Miraculously, the owner only charges us a third of what she could get, and Craig makes it a working vacation so we can afford it. We trek up … Continue reading Recollections of the Macabre, the Furry and the Fat

MEMRI: Palestinian Cleric Issam Amira at Al-Aqsa Mosque: Islamic Strategy Dictates Hostility towards Infidels, Tolerance Is Un-Islamic

In a Ramadhan address delivered at the Al-Aqsa Mosque, Palestinian cleric Sheikh Issam Amira said that

Source: MEMRI: Palestinian Cleric Issam Amira at Al-Aqsa Mosque: Islamic Strategy Dictates Hostility towards Infidels, Tolerance Is Un-Islamic

Good morning, everyone!  Wake up!

It’s the 95th anniversary of Gene Roddenberry’s birth.  The iconic visionary creator of Star Trek managed to assemble a cast of mixed gender, interracial, mixed species, interplanetary characters (and, if you think about it, Spock was asexual, so that lends a further level of diversity), in the early 1960’s before the Civil Rights Movement, and waaaay before Women’s Liberation got under weigh.

Now we are faced with this.

A prominent cleric gives his Ramadan speech at the iconic Aqsa Mosque, in which he condemns the idea of peaceful coexistence and forcefully argues in favor of the word “infidel” and just as forcefully encourages letting the “young men” who want to go out and fight in the name of Allah to go and do their thing.

Meanwhile my brain is singing Pete Seeger’s iconic song, “Then We’ll Have Peace.”  Listen to it.


Really Good Things

I wrote a little more last night on a fragment that may become a Baton Rouge flood story.  I’m just feeling my way along trying not to plan it but to let it happen in the moment.

I’m awake this morning. I got a coke yesterday afternoon and saved it until this morning.  So maybe I can accomplish more in the day.  Looking forward to going to the MS Book Festival tomorrow with two friends–over 100 authors doing panels, signing books, and doing book related things.  It’s really going to be cool.

I just feel really up this morning. It’s a nice change from where I have been, so tired and sleepy.  I don’t think people realize how draining mental illness is.  You have to constantly monitor yourself for breakout symptoms and you can’t ever get away from it–it’s inside your head.

I went for a change this morning–I’m listening to Duran Duran and will see where that vibe takes me in my writing.  WE will see.

30 Days of Sandy Sue Altered: 25



Unstable Fault Line


All Stories End Sadly

Survival of the Sweatiest…Again

spook school

Yep. I survived “meet the teacher” night at my kid’s school, as well as taking her two friends to their respective class rooms. The devil girls were fine. MY devil was wearing flip flops on highly polished floors and running at mach 4.Nerve  racking to no end.

That school always feels so small and I sweat so much in it. It’s gotta be me right? IDK.

I also get uber socially uneasy when dealing with other people’s kids. Mainly because 2 years back I was accosted by neighbor lady who basically accused me of being after her man….simply because my kid played with her daughter and ONE TIME her man knocked on my door to ask if I’d seen their pit bull.

Nutsy fucking kookoo right?

These are my neighbors and this is my reality.

“She was nice to MY KIDS while I was at work? THAT BITCH IS AFTER MY MAN!”

I can honestly say, I have never eyeballed a neighbors’ man.

Frankly, unless your man has long hair and is wearing eyeliner, you’re safe, safe, safe.

Just gets old, ya know? I am overweight. I wear all black. I interact with no one. The only people who like me are kids who find  my macabre nature funny and appreciate my “warm and fuzzy” moments.

I am zilch threat.

If there was a truly (happily) disconcerting moment tonight…

It came when we visited A’s (the eldest devil girl) class room. I pointed out her desk and the teacher, told her to get a copy of the transpo paperwork for her parents…And then I was accosted, to my shock, by the adopted daughter of R’s eldest (yeah,Ursula, the psychologist, who said to being on call, “I don’t want to call this bitch back”) I haven’t seen this adopted kid  (Ch) in 2 months since we were last at R’s. But she saw me, remembered me, came up and hugged me…

Which just carries on my life long tradition-adults don’t much like me, but kids adore me.

Ya know what? I am ok with that. Kids are pure and innocent at that age. They don’t care if you are heavy or ugly or poor. They remember how you treat them, and how it makes them feel.

Gotta say…I feel way better that kids think I am awesome as opposed to some ADHD grown up who’d swap me for someone willing to smoke dope and “be cool”.

If that makes me some sort of freak…

So be it.

My Journey To Vibrant – Day 25

Wow, it has been awhile since my last report. Lots of things taking my time up, most of them good. Last week I went up a bit on my weight, which I half expected as I hadn’t been eating a … Continue reading