Oh What a Difference

11.28.18 blog entry ~ Oh What a Difference

Twenty-four hours ago I thought I would get nothing accomplished today and just prayed I would be able to get out of bed this morning. I was dealing with depression, anxiety and paranoia was trying to set up shop in my mind. Today, a totally different person. This version got things done, got above and beyond bonus type stuff done and feels well.

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With Bipolar, I always know what goes up must come down and all that jazz. I know 24 hours can make all the difference, and oh, what a difference…problem being that it cuts both ways.

I get done what I can on the good days and take the win.

Take care of yourselves and each other. โœŒ๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ’™

 

(Photo credit: Google images Health Magazine)

Common Denominator

11.26.18 blog entry Common Denominator

I’m not sure why. I have spent hours upon hours in days among days trying to figure it out. My mom once told me not to bother wasting time like that because after all, is the person or persons I’m thinking about even giving me a second thought. Possibly, but even so, they definitely don’t waste time on me with a third thought. And I’m actually not blaming all these people I’ve lost in my life because there have been LOTS, and what is the common denominator? Or rather, whom? Answer is simple. Me. I equal common denominator.

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I think I feel too intensely and describe too deeply and possibly even make others feel guilty about being overwhelmed with and by me. So, now they’re gone. Friends. Family. Even a first middle school aged boy that I liked – and who I believe liked me – even he and his wife won’t accept my friend request on Facebook. Really? And a friend of years has totally quit me. A friend since middle school and who was there for all the important wonderful new stuff, as well as the rough times, and vice versa.

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I think it’s the Bipolar and the intensity that comes along with it. Even though I’d never wish it on my worst enemy, I have often thought that if people could spend a week inside my mind, my body, they could sorta understand. But I can’t do that, obviously, so people seem to continue slipping away instead. I even fear the folks I have left will soon be gone. I’ve deleted my meetup groups. I don’t have it in me to make new friends, only to lose them. Damn. I’m exhausted. Just so tired of it. Actually, I’m just plain sad. Sad and broken hearted. ๐Ÿ’”

Thinking About Dad

I’ve been thinking about Dad.

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For years, I’ve heard friends talking about their dads attending their high school graduation and walking the brides down the aisle. I’ve listened to stories about how much dads love their grandchildren.

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This and so much more wasn’t in the cards for me, as I was only 15 years old when he died.

On top of that, I heard some disturbing things about him after his death, which I now question. Not certain I believe what I heard based upon the source and that person’s past. Or maybe I just want and need to believe that person lied to me.

So, I’m left with a lot of questions. I was also thinking about what I did in the days, weeks and months after he died. How did I cope? Because I know I certainly didn’t cry much. Had I, I think I would have never stopped. So, I threw myself into sports and listened to a ton of music. One song I repeated over and over was Cold November Rain by Guns N’ Roses. I could probably sing you every lyric from memory. Like right now, if you’d so wish.

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So yeah, anyway, where am I going with this?ย Well, it’s more of a rambling tonight, I guess. I did realize a connection between my 15 year old self and my 42 year old self. Both of us turn(ed) to music and physical activity (even though mine is limited now due to health conditions). And I suppose that’s a good way of coping. And I’m learning to forgive, as well as asking to be forgiven. I find it a shame that so often it’s easier to forgive once the person has passed away.

Thanks for listening. Take care of yourselves and each other. โœŒ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ’›

Hug your Dad. ๐Ÿ’™