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)

 

 

Dear Ex-Husband

1.1.20

Dear Ex-Husband,

I doubt you’ll ever read this, but this isn’t for you. I thought I’d write as I enter a new decade. As I will see our son turn 21 years old this year. As I will celebrate with him, just as I have with his high school graduation, learning to drive, first job, taking pride in his physical and emotional strides. He boxes now. Did you know that? No, of course you don’t. He’s a runner. And a good one. And he is an amazing photographer and editor. More so, he’s just a person people want to know – handsome, charming, kind and funny.

I’ve said it many times and will say it until the end, the only good thing you’ve ever done is help give life to two beautiful children. I’m glad they are close and have one another, even though you have nothing to do with your son. I will never understand that. Unfortunately, that is my son’s burden to bear, though I hope he doesn’t carry too heavy of a load regarding your absence because he has had a stepfather who is wonderful to him, and he knows you only would’ve made his life worse. Though, knowing and feeling a thing are two entirely different matters sometimes, but all I can do is be there for my son for as long as I’m here on this earth. Because that is what being a true parent is. And heaven knows, the little you were in his life harmed him considerably.

You might wonder why I’m writing now. Well, I actually saw a film earlier today, and there was a scene that made me think of you. A simple scene, but sad. True. A young woman was trying to excuse her boyfriend of four years for forgetting her birthday. She said it was her fault for forgetting to remind him ahead of time. And I realized I used to have to do the very same thing. Remind you of upcoming Valentine’s dates, anniversaries, birthdays… I immediately reminded myself that those are decades old memories, and just that, memories. I don’t have to live with you anymore. Suffer at your hands. Endure you anymore.

Do you remember when you announced you wanted a divorce, and I begged, pleaded, and fought for almost a year for us to stay together? It wasn’t because I wanted to be with you. It was because I knew that without me there to protect our son, you would hurt him. And that you did. And that you allowed. But he is healing.

As for me individually, I never had the chance to say what I really wanted to say, because even divorced, I had to be careful for my child’s sake. What I wanted to say was that I was finally free. That I felt lighter. Safer. As if I might have a chance to be happy in life, thereafter.

You were abysmal from the beginning, but I was in no state of mind to see the truth. You knew what was going on with me; my circumstances, and boy did you come prepared to take advantage.

I want to say, all those times you cheated, like from the beginning, I knew. You didn’t “pull one over on me.” Did I actually know certain dates, certain women? No. But in my core, did I know? Yes. You became upset when I started gaining weight. I was “eating my feelings,” as they call it these days. Because something inside of me knew who and what you were. Are.

I want you to know that when you were furious I wouldn’t go to your friends’ parties and get-togethers, and I said it’s because I wasn’t feeling up to it, that was only partly true. I did not feel up to it, that’s for sure. It was exhausting pretending I loved you… pretending I liked you. But it was also because I knew how much you would drink and how you would insist on driving home anyway, drunk as you were.

Remember when you graduated from Basic Training when you joined the Army, and I was incredibly late? You were mad at first, just fuming, but our son was an infant, and so I explained I had to pull over for much longer than expected during our drive from Texas to Missouri. Then, you decided that was reasonable, and I was excused. Truth is, he was a sweet little baby who slept almost the entire way. Truth is, I didn’t want to be at your graduation ceremony. I didn’t want to see you.

You were such an awful boyfriend, husband, person… can you truly be surprised by any of this?

Do you remember when I began working part time to “earn extra money to help out?” I just wanted to get away from you.

Do you remember when your second (what are you, on number three or four now… I forget) wife insisted there was no way our son could actually be yours because he didn’t look like you? Do you know how I prayed you would listen to her and leave the both of us alone? But you didn’t. You actually took a paternity test. What would you have done had it come back as negative? Just stop loving him?

Do you remember when I was almost 30 minutes late walking down the aisle at our wedding. I sat there unable to move, trying to decide if my nails looked okay, listening to inner dialogue. “Don’t do it. Don’t do it. It’s not too late. Don’t do it.” But when my best friend came to get me, even though I wish I would’ve confided in her, I stood up and smiled and said I was ready to go. I wasn’t ready to go. That dress weighed a thousand pounds. That veil did not provide cover or protection.

Now, though. Now, I’m ready to finally say goodbye. Those horrible memories, horrible times, horrible days, horrible hours, horrible minutes… they no longer haunt me. Because Ex-Husband, my life and my memories, just like this letter, are not for you. They are for me.

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)

Better

12.30.19

Hey guys. How are we? I’m better. I didn’t realize I was in a place that would eventually result in me saying I’m feeling “better.” Yet, here we are. I wouldn’t say I’ve been depressed. Just blah. But I guess being blah for a long period of time and living at the intersection of just okay and mild depression can be difficult to detect. Now that I’m feeling better, I’m trying to learn from this last spell in order to determine if there were signs so that next time I might recognize things quicker. Two that I can think of immediately are:

1) I wasn’t writing and had no interest in doing so.

2) I really was not wanting my cat in my lap, didn’t want to play or snuggle with him. Luckily, he has my son and husband as well. Anyway, I am feeling better. I’m looking forward to 2020. Have a few plans and goals. I even talked about it in a YouTube video that I will link.

A huge thanks if you check out the channel. Much appreciated.

What are some goals you guys are going to work toward in the new year?

 

I Made A Cute Christmas Tree As A Way To Cope YouTube Video

December 12, 2019 ~

Hey guys! I’m feeling so much better. I made a cute Christmas Tree to get outta my funk. In my latest YouTube video I discuss various coping strategies that help me. I would love it if you guys would check it out. It’s nice to put a face with the name, or blog name, as it were.

How are you doing? How is the holiday season treating you? Holidays can be difficult for some. Wishing you all well.