Rambling About Creativity in the Dark

Some say that it’s a gift this Bipolar, but it is most certainly, and without question, a curse. And the thing is it’s only a gift (a perk, if you will) because apparently many of us with Bipolar are creative, artistic and quite intelligent. Additionally, according to some tests, because they’re always doing tests, and who the heck is they… one of zillion tests bouncing around out there, we’re spiritual, empathetic and resilient. I guess I could agree with resilient, at least for myself, if for no other reason than I wanna piss off all the voices that say it would be really simple to down all of those pills, blah, blah.

Anyway, I digress.

I was thinking about how important sleep is, not only to help heal our bodies, but also to allow our minds a respite, rest, sleep and healing. Yet, there are many, many nights when I have my best revelations and inspirations at 2:00 in the morning. I think of different art pieces I’d like to attempt, or different ideas for my two YT channels. And this can 100% be separate from racing thoughts. Sure, I deal with racing thoughts, obsessive thoughts, and the really fun nights when they melt together in a gooey oozy thingamajig, and you know you’re not gonna get one second of sleep. Yes, I’m kind of rambling, but I also kinda have a point. An observation, if you will. I’m saying that some nights it’s not hypomania, it’s not racing or obsessive thoughts, and yet I still have the best of my creative ideas pop into my head when the sun goes down and the moon comes out to play. Then, I wake up and I manage and function throughout my days and they can be good days, but where are the freaking magical, brilliant thoughts and ideas that visit me in the dark?!?!

Curse you Bipolar! (oh…wait…)

Thanks to you all for reading, and please feel free to check out my videos on Jen Talks Bipolar and Pain & a booktube channel Jen Talks Books. The fun is just getting started!

What are you guys up to these days? I’m so glad to be back!

 

 

Catching Up, Seems I’m Alive

Hi, there. I’ve missed you guys. Just wanted to let everyone know that I’ve not abandoned this blog. I’ve just been dealing with untreated carpal tunnel and a shoulder injury. I’ve begun treatment for it and am feeling somewhat better. I hope to be back to a more consistent writing schedule soon. In the meantime, please feel free to check out my YouTube channels & follow my social media.

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Ghosted

Ghosted ~ May 8, 2020

I don’t think the term “ghosted” is an accurate description for those unfortunate times when someone you love just cuts you off. Not for me anyway.

Family members – I’m certain I’ve wronged them. I accept this. I apologize for this. I own this. I’m equally certain they’ve wronged me. Yet, my apology and attempts at the most minimal of contact are ignored. And most of the time, I can accept that because I have hope that later down the line, maybe, just maybe we can forgive and get to know each other again.

A friend of 30 years, however… A friend who felt more like a sister than anyone else. The person I thought knew me more intimately than any other person on Earth… That friend who decided to ghost me and cease all communication with no explanation over a year ago, the loss of that relationship haunts me the most. The thing about loved ones suddenly no longer talking to you, no longer wondering about your days… your life, no longer caring about you, is heartbreaking and tragic.

ghosted blog

(photo credit: bing images)

It’s tragic in the way that death is tragic. You don’t know the last time you’re seeing that person that it will, in fact, be the last. You don’t know to count the blessings of every moment of that last time spent together. You cannot go back and say things you wish you could have said… would have said. You can’t go back and do everything just right so that you don’t question yourself a thousand times in the future… Did I say this correctly? Did I not respond in the way I should have? Did I mishear something? Did I accidentally ignore something that should have been addressed? What did I do wrong? What did I miss? If only I could go back.

So no, for me the term “ghosted” is not correct. I miss my friend. I question and blame myself, even if I don’t necessarily deserve it. It’s haunting.

I am not ghosted. I am haunted.

(For more interesting content, check out my latest YouTube video upload:)

That Was A Lot

Hello, All.

I know I haven’t been around much. I’ve been quite low. Depressed really. I might have moments some days of feeling a bit better – peppy, more productive. However, as a whole, I’ve been down in the pit. I’m sure if you’ve suffered with depression or know someone who has, you know the pit well.

Anyway, quick update. I’ve begun therapy again. Tomorrow is actually my second visit. My husband’s rotator cuff is probably shot after the hit & run. We’ll have an MRI and find out soon. So thankful we have comprehensive auto insurance, short term disability, long term disability, “accident and hospital extra fees” insurance (whatever you call the latter there, I do not know). Boy, am I glad now that we pay for each of those policies a bit out of every check. I learned a long time ago when my back troubles and first surgery began at age 21, when I felt invincible and felt I didn’t need insurance between jobs, then ended up having back surgery with no coverage, that no matter what, as long as we could manage it, it’s best to have as much insurance and coverage as you are able.

People helped us with a GoFundMe campaign, and these beautiful souls were so amazing and generous. We were able to pay the rent and cover rental car fees and groceries until we could receive the check from State Farm for the totaled out car and buy a new pre-owned car. So again, thank you.

Now, my husband and son are back to work, because my son delivers for Doordash in the evenings when the car is back home. My husband received a promotion at work. We will be moving into the city of San Antonio instead of being an hour away. Cuts down on gas. My son and I are probably going to alternate days, and I may pick up a couple of shifts a week through Doordash or Grubhub and just earn a little extra money to tuck away. He and I are both excited and eager to have more social opportunities in the city as well.

Rationally, I know all I mentioned is good news. I’m not a dummy. I know we are blessed. That I am blessed. I ask about people on my youtube channel – how are they spiritually, physically and emotionally. I unquestionably know and would answer that I am blessed. At the moment, however, I don’t feel overly elated. I’m rather apathetic. Weird because I know that I am happy and thrilled for clean slate, fresh start and new experiences, but I’m not feeling much of anything. But that goes for several topics and situations right now.

As I said, tomorrow I’m going to therapy, and I’m going to go for a walk and spend some time at the river, I think. I’m also going to take my laptop with me to a diner or coffee shop and do some writing. See if I can help pull myself up a bit.

WARNING: UPON EDITING, I REALIZED THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPH IS 100% A RAMBLING STREAM OF CONCIOUSNESS. SKIP TO THE LAST PARAGRAPH IF YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT THYROIDS AND SALADS AND SUCH AND omg!!!! EVEN THIS WARNING HAS BECOME MORE RAMBLING…

blog shut up dear pic

I’m also going to make an appointment with my physician and check out my thyroid, which is eternally whacked – sometimes hyper, sometimes hypo and sometimes stable. I actually have the autoimmune thyroid condition that starts with H. I forget the name. After a while all the diagnoses run together and you just gotta roll and laugh. I’ve all of the sudden gained about 10 lbs. Might be because I’ve been hurting so badly and was very chair-restricted and haven’t been very active. I blew my back out getting into a jeep (uber) because I had to attend an appointment, and there were no other options. I knew it the second I did it. Now, sciatica and all that fun stuff have come back to visit. I told it to kick rocks and keep on going, but it settled in. Typical. So, I’m going to hopefully have enough money out of this paycheck to join a gym here in town that has an indoor warm pool. I feel like that’s the best – no, let’s be honest – only way for me to do any exercise that’s going to beneficial. I’ve begun eating more salads. (Mostly spring green mix and baby spinach. Grape tomatoes. Turkey. Croutons. Olive Garden dressing. I’m trying to use a very small amount of dressing. It’s one of the reasons I bought OG. A little goes a long way.) Salads are replacing at least one of my usual meals per day. Then little small things like leaner proteins, olive oil, limiting sodas to one per day, drinking wayyyy more water, and, for now, when I’m craving a sweet treat, having animal crackers. I’m almost to the point that I’m not reaching for those anymore. A while back my doctor suggested if I want to snack, choose a cereal such as Cheerios that is high in iron and snack on it as a dry snack. My point is, I’m starting with small changes and will implement more as I go, but I feel I’m making progress. Just deciding I want to change and then actually pressing go and moving forward is HUGE. Sorry, I’m rambling.

blog shut up spongebob pic

How are you guys? What’s going on spiritually, physically and emotionally? Please feel free to ramble. xo

Love to you all. x

 

(image credits: bing images)

Saying Hi To New Followers

1.8.20

Hey, guys & gals. Just wanted to say I’ve noticed some new followers as of late, and I want to say welcome and thanks for stopping by and checking out this blog. I’m busy as of late because I’m trying my hand at starting a YouTube channel. It’s been quite cathartic, actually. Anyway, please feel free to drop a line or several, and let me know about you. My primary goal with the blog and the YT channel is to create a community where we can learn and don’t feel isolated and alone. Thanks, guys. Looking forward to hearing from you.

welcome pic blog

(image credit: bing images)

 

 

MH in 2020 and Memories

I wrote this on FB a little over three years ago. While the last Star Wars film featuring Carrie Fisher is out at the theaters, and going into 2020 and trying to focus on taking better care of my mental health, I’m reposting this here and discussing it and her books on my YouTube channel. Let’s have a healthy, beautiful year.

“Carrie Fisher died today on December 27, 2016. She died a Bipolar Sufferer and Survivor, due to a cardiac event. And that tears at my soul. I can actually hear it ripping apart and shredding.

When I was 15 years old, days away from turning 16 actually, my father died of a cardiac event.

I’ve talked with people in my family, and some believe he also suffered with Bipolar Disorder. (By the way it is a Disease, not a disorder. Ask someone who has it. They can tell you why.)

I don’t know if my dad had Bipolar Disorder, but I think he did. I believe I can remember him self-medicating, though he probably didn’t know why he was doing it. And I know he died from said “cardiac event.” He had survived two prior heart attacks which he called “spells,” and the third heart attack is the one that got him. He was playing baseball, and the doctor said he was dead before he hit the pitcher’s mound, as he fell.

I often wonder if he was internally tired and distressed, and just in need of peace. I have no other explanation for why he would not have gone to the hospital, or why he canceled the ambulances heading toward him for the first two heart attacks.

He was a guy who could make you laugh, and he was charming.

But looking back, even though I was 15 years old, I think I knew him well enough and recall enough to know that there was unhappiness and uneasiness there. And something that plagued him. I wonder if he didn’t want to feel peace, and was therefore overly passive.

The psychiatrists call that “passively suicidal.” I remember one time in one of the mental hospitals I’ve frequented that they would not stop labeling a patient as passively suicidal when she had taken eight Xanax in order to try to sleep. People, she was Tired. She told them she was tired. She told them she needed sleep. She needed respite. She needed peace for a couple hours. She absolutely was not passively suicidal. She just needed to sleep. We don’t always sleep all that much, those of us with Bipolar. That’s why I’m writing this at 2:50 in the morning. That’s why an hour ago, so very upset by Carrie Fisher’s passing and the questions and feelings that it brought up inside me, I had to get up and do a 20-minute hard work out to get some manic rage out of my system.

Miss Fisher’s death has infuriated me as much as saddened me. I believe her unchecked self-medicating drug use before a proper diagnosis, and then later prescription drug use for the Bipolar (because yes, they help us mentally and emotionally, but they take their toll, and with most, it is not even understood why or how they work) and her need for ECT treatments, led to a physically weakened heart that caused her eventual cardiac arrest. I’ve begun research online, and doctors are already floating this theory about the cause of her death. And in efforts to be transparent and maybe reach someone through all of this, I too self-medicated in high school for a time. Alcohol and Cocaine.

This I know for certain, whether it was the direct or indirect cause of her death, I can tell you that her heart was both physically and emotionally scarred. I can tell you that her heart was both physically and emotionally affected and altered forever. I can tell you that she had to take one day at a time for not only her sobriety, but also to survive Bipolar. We often have to take it daily, and sometimes even on the hour every hour in order to survive. I am not talking about being happy or finding joy in the day. Of course, that is the goal. I am talking about days of just surviving.

So usually, I make more sense when I write. I have a better flow and fluidity to what I am saying. There are several thoughts coming from every direction in this writing because that’s what mania feels like. And I’m in that kind of a stage.

Because she was not only Princess Leia. She was so much more of an advocate for those of us that die a little bit each day because of this horrendous thing we have. Followed later by weeks or months, sometimes years, of stability and the ability to enjoy life. And then boom, we’re back down. The boom is pretty ugly.

Mostly I just want to know why my dad had to die of a “cardiac event” when my sister was 4 years old, loved, and cannot remember him. And I want to know if he had Bipolar and was hurting, struggling inside, in secret.

In Silence.

Silence is a difficult thing. I have family and friends who know of my disorder and occasionally read things like this that I share, and they have never even asked questions about what this thing is, or what I feel… what makes it worse, and what makes it better. There’s just so much Damn Silence. And assumption. And Judgement.

I want Carrie Fisher to have never known ECT treatments and what that does to a body, what it takes from you. I want her to never have had the need and experience in order to be a fantastic and appreciated Mental Health Advocate.

I wish she was just Princess Leia.

At least I know that like Leia, she fought, and fell, and gained ground, and always moved forward with Hope.

Bipolar is a struggle for me every day. And every day, I have to start again, build and construct a foundation for that day to find some joy, or at least survival.

Carrie Fisher taught me that every day, there can indeed be A New Hope.”

(Image Credit: amazon)