Daily Archives: September 15, 2016


We have a responsibility to teach our children, even if we don’t WANT to, and we as parents have to keep tabs and track of the apps they have and are using. As a parent of an almost 18 y/o and 2 preteens I am adamant that kids will do the right things and use approved apps and such. Of course sometimes they wander so that is why I know all password for everything at all times. Or I can walk and their room and tell them to unlock it for me. If they don’t they lose said device or devices until they are ready to give the password. The very best way we protect our children is by being honest and explaining to them the dangers and things that can happen. 
I do not believe that we can protect our children. I believe it’s a nice thought and something that many people go to great lengths to do. I believe this is more harmful over a lifetime then allowing and helping our children to use social media at appropriate ages. My son at 12 plays games where they can talk to each other over a headsets. I don’t do a lot of monitoring at this point because he basically has played the same games the last 5 years or so. Plus, I firmly believe that our children, unless already exposed to bad behavior and situations, act like children. If they go to school and cuss all day long you will definitely here that coming out at home. They don’t have enough control to hide to much of anything. Or they can for a little while but the truth always comes out. 

I don’t know where as a society we got the idea that our children should be protected From everything we can possibly protect them from. We are raising children that are scared and that have no idea what they believe or believe in. The first time they are confronted with something they have never heard or thought of their path is changed, sometimes for a period of time, and sometimes forever. 

I recently allowed my daughter, who is 11, to get her own Facebook. We have clear rules and she knows what they are. She is not allowed to add anyone that isn’t a family members or a friends from school. Thankfully I know who most of her friends are anyway because I spend time talking to her and listening to her talk about her life. Do I think at some point in the future there will be issues? Of course I do. But I also know that she will have the consequences of choices she made. Not decisions that I made for her. Don’t get me wrong, I want to protect her. I want her amazingly kind and generous spirit to never get lost or run over by life. But the truth is it will, if it hasn’t already. I have to help her learn how to interact in society. How to contribute. How to stand on her own when necessary and be who she is. 

These are all things I don’t really remember learning but that I know my Mom must have taught me. Or that there are many of them that I had to learn on my own. I didn’t know that my expectations of myself were not taught to the next person in line. I had to learn the hard way that people are damaged and broken and that some of them are basically out to get you. 

Protecting your child from everything only gives them a false sense of happiness and safety. I truly believe it harms their growth and that when they get out there in the real world it’s like they are babies who don’t know anything. And they are quickly blown one way or another because they don’t know what they stand for. I don’t expect everyone to agree with me. But I do expect people to listen to each other and consider other people’s perspectives. Odds are they didn’t come to those thoughts over night or easily. 

In the end I believe I am protection my children by teaching them and helping them make good choices at the place they are in now. My 17 y/o son is obnoxious and he tests me regularly. But I know that he loves me and I also know that there will come a day when he sees the strength that I have and the love that I have for everybody because I can see it in him. Of course, right now he hates and denies it. But I have learned to be patient and when it comes my reward will be great.  I also get to work at the same food place that my son works out. There is no greater compliment than to have multiple people tell you your son is a hard worker and seems to be a good kid. And it’s not just them it’s anybody that I know that has ever met him. Maybe people don’t agree with my thoughts and the way that my husband and I choose to handle our children. But having 4 amazingly talented, smart, and above all friendly kids is a pretty great thing. 

I am blessed that God found me worthy of these kids. That He trusted me to teach them and show them what it’s like to live a good life and stick up for those less fortunate. To do good and to love even the most unlovable because we all deserve love. 

Yes, we should do our best to protect our children. But we should also be teaching our children to make good choices, run from the things that will harm us, and surround ourselves we people who we love and that love us. There will never be a way from us to fully protect our children from the “bad” things in life. But we can do our best to teach them and to show how to handle these situations as they get older. So that when they are adults they have knowledge, ability, and courage to stand up for who and what they believe. And to KNOW what they believe and why so they don’t get swept away in the waves of life. 

Not sure if this all made sense. Was interrupted like 10 times. But I felt like it was important so here it is. Questions or thoughts are welcome!

Glad That is Over

I am much calmer today.  I talked to my counselor yesterday  and we spent a lot of time trying to figure out why I do this to myself. WE didn’t really come up with an answer, but we have some more appointments scheduled to work on it.  Then I went to church and .  heard a sermon on prayer that really calmed down my spirit.  I went and told the pastor that, and he said the nicest thing to me.  He said he knew my struggles (we had been in counseling with him once) and I was an inspiration to him in how I fought bipolar disorder,  the fact that I didn’t give up.  THat made me feel good inside.That’s all I want is to inspire somebody if I:m going to have this problem , for it to be used for good.


Enough Adulting Already: Cancer & Me

What do you do with some drunken Cybermen?

What do you do with some drunken Cybermen?

Another day, another check up: per usual, at the hospital where I spent my first few stays on psych ward. The ward relocated years ago to a separate, purpose built location, but a shiver still goes down my bipolar spine whenever I walk through those hospital halls.

Doctor (no, not Who, not yet): “Has your nipple always been inverted?” Me: “Oddly enough, for someone with breast cancer, I haven’t thought about my nipples a great deal. Except for when it turned turquoise, that is.”

A beautiful blue sky: York, Sept 2016

A beautiful blue sky: York, Sept 2016

Good news: no appointments for three months, unless I get called in for the bone scan results which should have been ready, but weren’t. Bad news: well, there’s that debatable nipple, and something which – based on the pamphlet which came with the Spockin’ medication, for Spock’s sake – we thought was a side effect, but wasn’t. Or maybe it was. Either way, it looks like I may be seeing a gynecologist, something I rate slightly above touring an abattoir, or a shooting range.

I do realise things could be so much worse. I had radiotherapy, not chemo, and day surgery, not a mastectomy. Still, this year has included a stay on the ward; early stage breast cancer; death of a friend, and job uncertainty.

And there’s still three and a bit months left to go. Yippee!

When did “adult” become a verb? Normally I’m a right fogy when it comes to rewriting the English language: eg, I still insist on “all right”, because “alright” just isn’t right, right?

I’m making an exception here, though. Because, enough with the adulting, already.

Why has 2016 decided that it must always rain on me? Well, me and Travis. Unlike him, I’m pretty sure My Shite Year has nothing to do with a touch of mendacity when I was 17.

So I’m sprinkling my adulting with a generous peppering of sheer childishness. Such as semi-regular purchases of The Doctor Who Adventures Magazine, complete with free toys, such as an unnaturally thin Dalek, a couple of drunken Cybermen, and a set of “Rory’s Story Cubes” (1).

And then, there’s the writing. I recently finished my latest Sherlock Jones story, “The Geek Interventionist”, featuring the return of one of my favourite characters, the Hound of the Basingstokes. (2) A week or so earlier, I finished another long short story, “When Stoats Go Wrong”. Writing is a great way of not adulting whilst adulting at the same time. Because, if you’re lucky / persistent / talented / all the above, writing fiction is the best way ever to be paid for playing.

Sooner or later, this cancer is going to get me. I can feel it in my relatively recently scanned bones. I think it will be much later, rather than sooner. Even if my bones are wrong, death is certain, whilst what I do with my remaining time is comparatively optional.

I may as well enjoy my playtime whilst and how I can.

Memorial, St Martin's Church, York

Memorial, St Martin’s Church, York

(1) I don’t remember Rory was particularly given to tale telling. I imagine he’s copped for the cubes due to rhyme, rather than any particular reason.
(2) “Sherlock Jones and the Hound of the Basingstokes” is one of the stories in my short story collection, “Koi Carpe Diem“. “Sherlock Jones & the Geek Interventionist” is in the forthcoming sequel, “A Yorkshireman in Ohio”.

Tagged: adulting, bipolar, breast cancer, Cancer, Cybermen, Daleks, Doctor Who, Doctor Who Adventures, fiction, mental health, Sherlock Jones, short story collection, Travis

Ughhh, no more people!

Yesterday’s hours long dish adventure, followed by a day and evening filled with kids and adults invading my space, has rendered me on the critical list today. My stomach is a mess because that is how my idiot body handles stress. I’ve done nothing more than pack a lunch and take my kid to school. (Lemmy kept going behind the car no matter how many times we moved him so I put his ass in the car and he went for a car ride. I had no idea taking the cat for a car ride would fill my kid with such joy.)

I should feel guilty for doing nothing. I do not. The long dish outings and of course, safe space invasions (ya know, when people just show up without an invite and you are at the mercy of social etiquette and being polite even if they are not)…NO MORE PEOPLE. Gah, I need a break.

Unfortunately, tonight is school open house so I will once again be subjected to those claustrophobia inducing hallways and packs of dish dwellers.

On the plus side…I think I offended R so much last night, maybe he’ll fuck off for awhile. He said I was being obnoxious. I was hormonal, had warned multiple times, did not want company but he invited himself…And yeah, okay, that little devil girl telling me I should kill myself really did upset me. Because I AM HORMONAL. But of course, rather than respect my need to be alone when my faculties are haywire, he does what he wants, I snark on the wrong thing, and he stomps off, leaving me to feel guilty and like a jerk.

It’s bullshit.

Has civility flat lined? Does no one get that it’s rude to show up uninvited? Or to ignore when someone says, “Raincheck, please, I’m bad company today.”

Last time I said that to him he shot back with, “Oh, so basically, you want to use me then tell me to piss off…”

He’s a fucking child.

The other invasion was the devil girls’ mom came and sat in the yard with us. Not once in 4 years has she done that, so it was an anomaly. I don’t like being caught off guard and I am not social but I am willing to take a bullet for my kid. For some reason, it’s important to her that I be buddy buddy with her friends’ parents. Well, that’s not gonna happen but I will make idle chitchat and try to seem….ugh, ‘normal’.

I think it was just too much, too fast for me. So many hours outside the safe zone. Then invasion of the safe zone. And of course, sticking my foot in my mouth and offending R (I don’t even remember what I did that was so wrong other than joking a few times about “go get me a burger” and that’s only cos he and Kenny are always telling me to make them a sammich. Reciprocal humor is apparently obnoxious.

Thing is, though, I know I am hormonal and I WARNED multiple times. I know amped up on hormones, I can go from rage to tears in two seconds flat and it can cause problems. So I prefer to be alone and avoid those situations.

Hard to do when your wishes aren’t respected.

So fuck him, I am too damned exhausted to give him more thought.

Maybe tomorrow I will spring back, recovered from it all. IDK.

Just hate the mental space I am in and oh, yeah, what caused me to be here?


It makes me question whether it is ever possible to have relationships with non mentally ill people. Because McMuggles don’t fucking get it, don’t fucking care, and  frankly, I am starting to think they are a waste of my fucking time.

If I want to be told what a bad person I am and that I should kill myself, well, I have scumbag depressive brain for that shit.


Caption This Thursday

I’m doing things a little differently this week. Up until last week I’ve posted the pic on Wednesday and you all have been given two days to post what you think the best caption should be. We’ll test it out on Thursday, this week, and see how it goes with just one day to submit your entry. Here’s this week’s…

The post Caption This Thursday appeared first on Insights From A Bipolar Bear.

Even Family Night Isn’t Working

It’s family dinner time and I didn’t even have to cook but I am still miserable.  You would think being surrounded by loved ones would pick up my mood but it hasn’t.

Next week I have to go and sign papers selling our house and go to the INS for my stuff for renewing my greencard and it’s stressing me out

I’m stressed and depressed what a joy! I’m honestly so miserable. I know it is going to stop at some point but since I don’t know when it feels unbearable.

Even my facebook posts and copies are dark and about depression. I’m finding it so hard to do anything.

Accomplishment for the day, I showered. That’s something. I mean it has to mean something. If I didn’t have an accomplishment a day I think I would just give up completely. I don’t think my husband understands how hard this cycle is being on me.

I should try to tell him.