Whoa That Came Out Of Nowhere

10.15.19 blog entry

So, this is a vulnerable but honest and important entry. It’s necessary to discuss this part of Bipolar.

My mood has not been consistent for a while now, but it hasn’t been too terrible as far as extremes. I’m functioning. I’m not always thrilled about it. Sometimes I move too fast and say something I regret, or I exacerbate my fibromyalgia and physically hurt more than normal, but I’m functioning.

Then, boom!

Two nights ago, some serious mania and psychosis set in, full on with hallucinations of someone who was not really there, and then (and this is the part I’m afraid to share but will…) I really wanted to score some cocaine and have enough for a few days. I’ve not done cocaine in over two decades, and I never have a desire to do so. Yet, there it was. Of course, I have no money and more importantly, don’t know anyone who does or sells cocaine. I mean, obviously. Why would I? I used the drug when I was 16 years old for a six month time span relatively soon after my dad’s sudden, unexpected death. My home environment at the time was terrible. Mom always depressed in bed or gone to work, leaving me with a drunken step-father who… and I kid you not… we later found out was a murderer.

blog cocaine

(Image Credit: flickr)

Look, I’m not trying to say I should have ever done drugs, but I am providing some context for the situation.

Anyway, as I was actually physically itching for it, it occurred to me I could crush some of my pain pills and snort them. Now, thank goodness I didn’t totally lose the plot. I spoke to a friend for a while, and gave my meds to my husband. And I took care of the hallucination in the short hallway from our room to our bathroom by simply turning on the light. I took two PRN meds I’m allowed to take per my doctor (PRN meds to help sedate and even things out for issues just like this) and took a couple of Melatonin and fell asleep (finally!) around 6 or 7 a.m. and slept a good, long while. I woke and everything was back to normal. Whatever Bipolar-normal is… sigh.

I think maybe one thing that led to it is my sleeping cycle has become so much worse. Luckily, I was able to secure an appointment with my psychiatrist next week, and I’ll relay all of this, and we’ll work on preventing this from happening again because it was as if a whole new person had taken over my body.

But that’s the trouble with Bipolar. Does that shit to you sometimes. I hate it.

Just An Update

Just An Update 10.1.19

So today has been much better, and I truly believe it is because last night I forced myself to sketch and write. Nothing grand came from that, but it got the creative juices flowing. Now I’m not saying I can live without meds, Lord knows, but I am saying I have a much better shot at maintaining a level mood if I’m creating something.

For me, it is part of self-care. As important as showering, applying makeup (that’s a personal one for me), stretches and light exercise, trying to eat okay, and finally, trying to get some sleep and taking my meds. And because I did that, today I watched a class on skillshare about starting a youtube channel about MH. I am writing this blog. I worked on making some decorations I plan to sell. I began writing a story. I cooked.

I don’t look forward to tomorrow because I have to go have nerve testing done on my arms, but I plan to just chill afterward and listen to a book. By the way, if you’ve read The Handmaid’s Tale, you MUST read Margaret Atwood’s follow-up, The Testaments. Turns everything you thought you knew about The Handmaid’s Tale on its side! Fantastic read or listen. I listened on Audible.

Anyway, I’m rambling. Just wanted to share I’m better today, and how I think I got there. And just want to say hi to you guys and hope you’ve had a great day.

How are you? Who else is eagerly awaiting Shane Dawson’s new series with episode one posting today, 10/1/19?

Love to you all. xoxo

(Image credit: randomhouse)

A L O N E and i do not understand why

Why don’t people want to be in my life, I wonder. God, I wonder what’s wrong with me.

I just want to die. It’s the truth. Lots of people, especially with mental illness do, but I’m just sharing about it. Here’s my truth.

I have a loving husband who works so hard and lots of hours.

I have a mom who is disabled and we don’t always get along so well.

I have a beautiful, talented son who is doing what he shouold be doing, which is growing and living and moving on.

I have sisters who will not speak to me. Not for years.

I had a best friend of decades stop speaking to me last year, and I still have no idea why.

I have one long distance friend. We are very close. But I don’t see her. And she and I don’t talk nearly as much as we used to.

I have another very good friend who I talk to a few times a week, and sometimes I see her when passing through my hometown.

I have a few supportive, lovely, online friends who understand Bipolar.

Beyond this, I’m alone. And I’m very lonely.

And of course I know I have God. But I want people, too. I want phone calls and hugs and interaction. There are so many people I’ve tried to befriend. I genuinely care for these people, and I truly don’t think they give a toss about me.

It’s getting bad. I’m feeling so low. Considering my old ways of self-harm. Feeling desperate, and there are moments of feeling suicidal.

This is not all to do with Bipolar, but it certainly doesn’t help.

Why am I sharing this? To be accountable, on the record, and in order not to do something bad to myself.

Thanks to you few who truly care. I know who you are.

Only Took One Scene

8.26.19 blog entry

Hey, guys. How are you? Please comment below. I sincerely wonder and care about you, and I would love to cultivate some friendships, and I always want this to be a place where people can reach out for help. ✌🤝💛

If you know me in real life or have been a long time online friend, you know I think a lot about nature vs nurture. I’m not obsessed with it, but I’m close. I think if we could figure out a few key things such as emotional/sexual trauma, physical trauma, and if we could map brains to locate the gene (misfiring of synapses…whatever brains do) to find that kink that predisposes us so that we’ve ticked off all the boxes and ding! ding! ding! we develop Bipolar Disorder (or whatever MI plagues you), maybe we could kick Bipolar’s ass. If we could find the correct connection. Crack the flippin’ code.

All of that being said in order for you to understand I think about it a lot. My writing isn’t all that technical tonight because I was forced to take a pain pill. My knee pain… I couldn’t stand it anymore. So, hopefully you follow this BS I’m putting out there. If you don’t, please don’t give up on me. Read some entries before and after.

So, what got me thinking about this for the 500th time is something I saw in a movie. It involved a young girl, maybe 10 years old, and her dad. He was telling her a nighttime story, totally making it up. They laughed and also had a bit of a serious talk. It looked lovely. As we watched the movie, I paused it and told my husband that I wasn’t told bedtime stories, nor were books read to me. Not with my mom. I lived with her 90% of the time, especially when she moved me over four hours away from my own dad.

Anyway, I didn’t have the picturesque house with the cute fence, a dog, conversations about what I learned in school that day, no happy “please pass the potatoes” moments during dinner. Dinner was filled with yelling and screaming. Often dishes were broken. Sometimes, when Vodka was involved, things got worse. I had to stop decorating for Christmas because my step-father would destroy the decorations. I had a cat I adored. Step-dad didn’t like cats. Kept scaring her, and she ran away. My step-father did give me a dog, it’s true, but within a month it was his dog.

So, when I saw this scene in the movie, I told my husband that I felt robbed.

However, I then recalled having the best talks with my dad when I visited him. Funny, encouraging, inspiring, sad… just something real, and definitely love.

My mom hates that my dad treated me better than he did her. I only have her story to go by as to their lives together. They divorced when I was two years old. I don’t remember them together. And yes, I saw him treat my step-mother badly sometimes, but he and she worked it out. My dad was good to my sisters and myself. I guess sometimes you can be a better parent than spouse, especially when dealing with MI. And to be fair, I didn’t live with him, but I loved him and our relationship. My mother recently told me she wishes my dad would’ve lived longer so I could see his true nature. There are so many things wrong with that. F**k you.

He died when I was 15 years old, my sister 14 years old, and the baby sister had just turned 4 years old. He died of a heart attack playing baseball with his church league. And something broke inside us that day. Sadly, my two younger sisters would sustain even more painful losses, and though we rarely communicate, I think of them often, and I pray for them. My step-mother as well.

I reckon I’m babbling. But that scene in that movie brought out so many things. Then, once I experienced the entire movie – wow! Extraordinary film written and directed by Casey Affleck. He also stars in it. “Light of My Life.” Check it out.

Thanks for listening. I’m sure you’ve all been there. Something you see or hear or even touch brings back a ton of memories. Or maybe they’re just right there under the surface begging to escape. I felt better after crying, and I feel even better after typing this up. Maybe if I did this more often, I wouldn’t be as ill. Hard to say.

So my thoughts on nature vs nurture. Both. Both can suck it up and combine with being “predisposed,” and here come the mental illness.

But we’ll get through it. Love and light to you all. 💜☮

(📸 credit: Google images)

Where I’ve Been

8.24.19 blog entry

Where I’ve Been… ill & injured, supporting my mom during her hospitalization and after, helping my son learn to market some of his photos and helping him obtain his driver’s license, watching my poor & lovely husband be overworked, worried about finances, exhausted… and that’s just a quick view/summary of where I’ve been.

This blog is supposed to chronicle highs and lows of dealing with Bipolar (and other chronic illnesses). So, that’s what I’m here to do, but I don’t have anything witty to add, or something super insightful. Trying to do things to cheer myself up or inspire myself, but I’m coming up with a big fat zero. Wait… that should be capitalized for full effect. Big Fat Zero.

I’m just tired and hurting. Gonna go do some deep breathing and take a muscle relaxant. Hope y’all are well. Drop a line. ✌