Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Holiday Letter to Mom

 

Dear Mom, 

Well, Christmas is 9 days away.  I feel a little lost right now. I want so much to call you and get your advice, hear your laugh, and get a phone hug.  But, now, more than ever, Im hit with the fact that you are gone.  There are no Christmas cookies this year.  The smell of baked goods in our apartment comes from candles.  I thought about baking, but it just hurts too much.  I go buy the cookie ingredients, and the sugars and I start to cry.  I've been thinking of something that I could do to honor your memory.  

I've decided to watch your favorite movies so I could hear you laughing in the corners of my mind.  Erica had a good idea.  She said I should buy something and donate it.  I just might do that, like buy a turkey for someone at your church.  I'll have to contact Angela about it.

Anyway Mom, a lot has happened since I last wrote.  I'm not talking to Tony anymore.  He was very sketchy when it came to us getting together.  This was after 5 months of texting 2 or 3 times a day.  One day, I asked him to call me, and he never did.  I decided not to chase him, and see if he ever would reach out, but he didn't.  It's funny, I thought I was in love.  Anyway, after about 3 weeks, I moved on.  I stayed on my own for about a month.  Then, I met Brad. 

Brad is 49, divorced and white.  He's an average middle-aged white guy, but he still has his hair.  He has blue eyes and brown hair.  He's about 6 feet with a bit of belly.  We texted for about a month, and finally met in October.  He's very nice, and he thinks I'm beautiful.  When I'm with him, I feel sexy as hell.  We have had sex.  It's amazing.  I feel free, and not ashamed of my body. I'm not in love with him, yet.  But we talk about a lot of things, and we are gradually finding out each other's quirks.  He has a good job, with great money.  He has his own home in Athens.  I think you would like him. 

I'm working at Amazon as a sortation associate.  I like my job, but to be honest the bloom has faded from the rose.  I'm dreaming about packages, and warehouses.  Everywhere I look, there are boxes waiting to be sorted and placed into routing bags for delivery.  Even with my sleeping pills, I dream about it.  

I notified SSA about my job, and I got a letter from them today saying my disability will continue for 6 more months.  I was given a 9 month work trial.  So, I get to keep my benefits until June 2021.  I also got a check from Uncle Bill today for 2k, that is a gift from Aunt Berta.  I've decided to save it toward a new Subaru Ascent.  It's a really nice SUV that I've driven a few times as a loaner for when my car was in the shop.  I love that car.  There's plenty of room for everyone and their stuff.  

I'm down to once a month for therapy sessions and once every 3 months for psychiatrist visits.  I've been making a lot of decisions and figuring things out for myself.  I'm not so needy anymore.  I've finally developed those coping skills I've been trying to learn for the past 30 years.  

Zelda the cat is just fabulous.  She is the kitty I've always wanted.  She's fun, affectionate and smart.  She loves to play fetch.  Zuko thinks she's pretty great, but Zabra can do without her most of the time.  We are trying to do a rent to own house, and found one we love.  We're just waiting to hear back from the agent.  When we get settled, I want to get another cat and Erica wants a dog.  She wants a Samoyed.  It's a Nordic breed, medium-sized and fluffy.  I hope we get the house.  It's gorgeous, you would love it.  

Well, I guess that's all for now.  I just wanted to catch you up on all I've been doing.  I really miss you.  I've seen you pop in for visits just to check on me by way of a cardinal.  I say hi, but you usually don't stay long.  I saw you the other day, you stayed for a while.  That was nice.  I hope Aunt Berta is settling in okay.  I'm sure you were glad to see her again.  Tell her thank you for the gift.  I miss her too.  As always, tell grandmom, grandpop, nana, poppop, Uncle Millard and Aunt Neatsy I said hello.  Things just aren't the same without you.   I love you mommy, now and for eternity.  

B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Amazon Woman

 

Well, I got a new job.  I now work at Amazon in Buford.  I'm an Amazonian.  I started on Friday 10/2/2020.  My hours are 1:20 am to 11:50 am Friday through Monday.  That's four 10 hour days.  The job is physical.  It doesn't take much thought, but its hard on the feet and back.  I'm on my feet the entire of time. 

We get two 20 minute breaks and a 1/2 hour lunch.  We get paid for breaks, but have to clock out for lunch.  I make $16 per hour.  So, I'll be making about $640 a week.  That's $2500 a month, so I'll be stopping my disability if I get hired permanently.  Right now, I'm just seasonal.  So, I have a job until the first of the year, unless I fuck it up.  

So far, my mental state has been good.  I haven't been cycling, and my mood is pretty stable.  I was a little concerned about the hours, but surprisingly, I am getting up on time and making it to work. 

The people there are really nice, and very helpful.  No one has yelled at me for asking the same question over again.  So far, I have done all the jobs except inducting.  Inductors are the people who take the packages off the truck and put them on the main conveyor belt.  I think so, anyway.  I've been a diverter, a stow buffer (sorter), and a stower.  A stower is the person who puts the packages in the designated bags which are later picked to go on carts for the assigned routes.

The drivers pick up their packages according to their assigned routes around 9 am.  Once the packages are picked, they are placed on carts and moved to the designated staging area for the drivers to load.  That time of day is organized chaos.  There are loaded carts being pulled to the staging area, the drivers are pulling their vans into the warehouse (they are beeping).  And the aisle traffic cops are screaming "cart coming out, cart coming in!!!!"  It's an awful din.  Thankfully, my PTSD is under control, because the noise would have sent me spinning a year ago. 

Mainly though, I get home, put my feet up, get something to eat, and watch a little television before going to bed around 4 pm.  I sleep a dreamless sleep because I am physically tired.  It's nice to be tired from a hard day's work instead of depression.  Also, I'm getting a workout.  I've lost a few pounds already, which is a little unfortunate, because my underwear is too big, lol. 

The company supplies all the PPE, and they even gave us a $122 credit with Zappos for shoes.  Mine should be here sometime today.  I'm also expecting some rain boots that I ordered from DSW.  I have to go to the post office to pick up a package, and to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things.  

Some really big news?  I met a new guy on Facebook dating.  His name is Brad.  He's not bad looking.  He's a sales manager from Athens.  Anyway, he's a white guy.  I think I'm done with black guys.  I have yet to meet a good one.  Tony was nice, but he played games in the end.  I don't have the time or inclination for that bullshit.  I want to get married.  Brad may come here this week to meet.  I hope I look okay.  I am kind of lumpy, and I have so many scars.  My legs have taken a beating from the cats.

I did get soe sexy underwear, so if things progress, I'll be wearing something better than my regular cotton panties, lol.  Oh well, I guess that's all for now.  I can't think of anything else.  I hope I continue to feel well.  If I do, I may only need to see my therapist once a month.  That will be the first time that ever happened.  I think I'll do my nails now.  #peace #joy #love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Who are you?

 

So, I haven't worked in a month.  I suppose I should feel guilty about it, but I don't.  On top of that, my temporary insurance license is about to expire on the 29th.  I had the money for it, but I spent it on clothes.  Very irresponsible I know, but I really don't care.  Ok, maybe I care a little.  I have justified my lack of work ethic as not being good at selling.  

I'm not good at selling.  I do not have that ability to talk people into things.  My feeling is, if you don't want it, fine by me.  Just go your own way and live your life.  I tried to care, I really did.  I liked talking to the people but I was not ruthless enough.  I couldn't apply the right pressure tactics to get people to buy life insurance, even if I knew they needed it.  I did sell a few policies though.  But, I got shot down, and chewed out a couple of times.  

I am starting a job in an Amazon distribution center Friday morning.  I will be working 1:20 am to 11:50 am.  I work Friday through Monday, 10 hours a day.  I haven't had a full-time job in 10 years so we'll see how this goes.  Also, with my back issues,  I'll have to wait and see if I can handle the physicality of the job.  I got some really comfy, supportive work shoes, so that might help.  Also, I still have my back braces from my surgery last year, so I will be using one of them at work.  

I am still trying to get things together to go back to school to finally get my degree is something.  At first, I was all gung-ho about biology and then medical school.  Now, however, I'm thinking of becoming a writer.  It comes easy to me, especially when manic.  I already have a few stories floating in my head.  I just need to get it down on paper.  I'll start with just an outline and work from there.  I think that's how it works.  People have told me that I have a gift for writing.  I may as well give it a shot, right? 

So, who am I?  I have no idea.  I'm a woman with a lot of hopes and dreams.  I'm desperate to have someone to love, and be loved in return.  I want success, but not at the price of my peace.  Why is that so difficult for me to find?  I'm running out of time.  

I guess I'll keep searching for myself until I find me.  I may be a doctor, a writer or something else entirely different.  Who knows?  But, I'm out there some where.  I'll just have to keep looking. In the meantime,  I'll just concentrate on the me I am today. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: In Love

 

Okay, so I'm in love.  He has no idea that I exist.  Which is usually how things go in these sort of things for me.  No, it' not Tony.  He has gone.  I made a simple request that he could not grant.  What was it?  Was I demanding too much?  No, certainly not.  I merely asked the man to call me.  He did not.  So, I let it go. 

I know that seems like such a small thing, but you must understand something.  We had a 5 month text relationship.  I made many attempts to call him.  He is one of those people that never set up his voicemail.  So, I could not leave a message.  I took a step back and looked back at our so-called relationship, and realized that I was always the one to initiate contact.  Well, I said fuck it, I'm not chasing you. 

I think I was sad for a week.  After that, I just kind of shrugged it off and put him in my collection of dickheaads and losers.  I would like for once, to meet a man, and actually date.  No booty calls, no text relationships.  I want a real relationship.  So, what about this guy that I really want to meet and be in love with?  Just a fantasy really, it will never ever happen.  

I won't say who it is lest I make a fool of myself, but he is a beautiful human being.  He's cute, but not to the point of being pretty.  He's just a nice looking guy.  He's kind, generous and kinda shy to those who don't know him.  I would really like to meet and have coffee.  I just want to talk to him really.  

So, why can't I meet him?  Because he lives in NYC most of the time.  He is rather famous too.  No, this isn't just another crush.  I've had plenty of those.  This is more than that.  I respect him.

I don't know why I can't find someone to love.  It doesn't seem like such a big deal.  People fall in love all the time, don't they?  Why not me?  The song, Somebody to Love by Queen, is like my theme song if I had a TV show.   That might be a good idea.  A crazy girl's quest for love in her 50's in the digital age.  It could be funny.  I have to give it some thought.  

Oh well, I guess that's it.  I haven't posted in a while and I just wanted to clear my head.  I wish I had something more profound to say, but sometimes it just doesn't work that way.  Peace, Joy, Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Critical Condition

 

I'm hanging by an unraveling thread.  I was suicidal yesterday.  I formulated a plan.  I wrote the note in my mind.  I must have looked at the number for suicide prevention for a half hour.  I even drove to my local nuthouse.  It was a dark foreboding place.  I don't want to go there.

I did drive there to check it out.  I thought if it looks a nice place, I would come home and pack my things and check myself in.  But, since it was so creepy looking, I decided against it.  So, I came home and watched tv.  It took a while for me to just figure out that I wanted to eat something.  So, I went to QT and got a hotdog.  

This is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month.  Ironic I know.  I was going to try something new this time and cut my wrists.  I'm usually an overdose on pills kid of girl, but it never worked.  So, I thought, hell why not?  But then, I thought about Zelda.  I mean, I just got her.  Who would take care of her?  I decided it wouldn't be fair to just kill myself and leave her behind.  So, I briefly considered taking her with me.  I would strangle her and then cut my wrists.  We'd both be dead, and things would be better. 

It did occur to me that people would be kind of mad, but hell, they are usually mad at me anyway.  I'm always doing something wrong.  I don't always know what, but people, meaning April and Jerald, are always annoyed with me.  I wonder if they've always been mad at me.  Maybe they were angry that I was even born.  You know, sibling rivalry and all that bullshit.  

It's not my fault I was born.  Quite frankly, I've always felt like huge mistake.  I'm an very unfortunate event.  So, Why am I still here?  Simply put, I have no idea.  I got up today, and fed Zelda, had breakfast and proceeded to go about the business of getting ready for my day.  I took a shower, did my hair, and put on makeup.  I look pretty good.  But inside?  Well, inside, I feel like there are snakes in my belly.  My eyes are burning, and I could really just go back to bed. 

I'm pretending that everything is ok.  I have music playing in the background.  I posted on Facebook a picture of Zelda.  Answered a couple of guys on the love connection.  One guy wanted to know if I was looking for a sex partner.  Ha ha! I guess he has a fantasy about sex with a black girl.  I do attract the cream of the crop don't I?  

I keep seeing shadows, what the fuck?  I'm still paranoid.  I can't look anyone in the eye.  They might see how crazy I am.  I think I could probably kill someone in my present state.  I'm not necessarily homicidal.  I just want to see blood.  Maybe, I'll just cut.  I haven't done it in a couple of years.  Maybe it will relieve some of this pain.  I want to get drunk.  Unfortunately, I can't even afford a bottle of booze.  Maybe if I take all my meds and have a chaser, that would do the trick.

I guess I should call the crisis line.  I have an appointment with my psychiatrist today at 11:30.  I want to tell her what's going on, but then I don't.  I see my therapist tomorrow. My head is fuzzy.  I want to drive, just drive off.  I wonder when they would notice.  Probably a week. I'm a freak.  Fuck it!

B    

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Lies

 

The lies have started again.  The ones in my head that tell me how ugly and useless I am.  The ones that tell me that I am a complete failure and will never amount to anything.  The ones that say everyone is against me and people don't like me.

I've started to become paranoid.  I feel like people are watching me and laughing at me.  They are just waiting for me to fail.  The only person that likes me is Zelda, and she's not human.  I think April and Erica are talking about me.  They go into their rooms and close the door.  I am not invited.  No one talks to me.  They are making plans without me.  They go places without me.  The eat without me, and only prepare enough for themselves.

The job is shit.  I suck at it.  I don't know why I bother.  Would you buy insurance from a useless blob like me?  What's happening to me?  I called the doctor, and got an appointment for tomorrow.  I'm not suicidal, but I do want to go to a place where no one knows me.  Right now, I haven't any money, so here I sit in this stupid room in this dumb apartment.  I pretend to give a damn, but I don't.  

In the meeting this morning, they were talking about being the best person you can be.  Well, I've tried being upbeat and friendly and where did it get me?  I have spent the past five months texting a man who obviously had no intention of meeting me.  He's probably married.  He won't call or meet anywhere.  Why do I attract such losers?  Do I leave a scent of desperation?

I have an appointment in 45 minutes.  I need the sale badly.  But he won't buy.  He's a sixty-four year old real estate agent.  I'm sure he's got insurance up the wazoo.  I should have just stayed in bed.  Life is for the living you know, and I'm not living.  I'm existing.  I'm taking up the space of someone who could do some good in the world.  

Lies, it's all lies.  My head is full of self hate and all those old voices.  I have not prayed in a long time.  Would it help?  I don't know.  I know I'll end up crying.  I don't want to cry.  I'm a little to angry at this very second.  I hate this disease.  It robs you of your sense of self.  I suppose it's good to feel angry, since I haven't felt much in the past couple of weeks.  Feelings are overrated.  What good do the serve?

I know my mind is lying to me.  But with every rebuttal, it screams that much louder.  I think I'll go smoke.  I've said what I wanted to say.  Will it make a difference?  Probably not, but at least I got to vent a little.  Fuck them, fuck all of them. 

B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Six Months

 

Dear Mom, 

It was 6 months last Wednesday.  6 months without your voice, your hugs, your laughter to get me through the day.  I was in bed all last week.  I felt horrible.  I experienced one of the worst periods in a long while.  I bled all over the place, and the cramps were almost unbearable.  I slept almost the entire time.

I think of you off and on.  I don't think of you everyday.  I wonder why that is.  I've been compartmentalizing my feelings lately.  I've just been putting thoughts and feelings in little boxes in my mind.  I used to do that all the time, until one day they all came crashing down on my head.  I have a box for you, a box about my money problems, a box for Tony. 

Speaking of Tony, I don't think that I love him like I thought.  I haven't heard from him in a week.  I told him, via text of course, that I wanted to move forward in our relationship and actually talk on the phone or Zoom or anything.  That was the last I heard from him.  I got to thinking about it, and I was always the one initiating conversations.  I decided not to chase him.  He knows how to reach me if he wants to.  So, in the meantime, I have decided to move it along.  

I don't feel sad about it.  To tell the truth, I don't feel anything about, just indifference.  I opened myself up to him, and it seems he doesn't think enough of me to take what I have to give.  I know I am a good person, and I deserve someone who want to be with me.  So, I guess I just put him on a shelf with all the other disappointments of 2020.

My job is still a challenge of my self esteem.  I made a sale last week, only to have it cancelled.  So, I lost a $600 commision.  I have to get a sale in order to pay for my car repairs.  I must get it together and take no prisoners.  I promised myself 2 years in this job, but I don't know if I'll make it.  I just don't seem to have it in me.  I was thinking of just getting a job at Amazon or something.  I might get over that feeling, I don't know.  I wish I had someone to talk to about it.  I just feel so lost sometimes. 

My birthday was good.  I got flowers, and money.  Of course, had I known then what I know now, I would have banked the money.  My account is overdrawn again.  I hate myself for that.  I wish I knew what my problem is.  I can't keep a dime in my pocket.  I'm tired of being always broke.

Erica says she is moving into her own place in January.  I don't know what April's plans are.  I guess I better start planning something.  Looks like low income housing for me.  I guess I better start looking into it today.  Now that you're gone, my greatest fear has become homelessness.  I'll just be some sad sack living in my car.

Aunt Berta is in the hospital.  She's been there since last Saturday.  She has severe edema.  They've drained about 1000cc of fluid from her lungs and belly.  She said she is feeling better, but they still don't know what the problem is.  I'll tell you, Mom, if she dies, I don't know what I'll do.  I'm scared.  I know if you were here, you'd be at the hospital everyday.  

Well, I guess that's all for now.  I wish I had some great news to tell you, but I don't.  It's still me just plodding along through life one day at a time.  I keep telling myself that I am a warrior, but I sometimes wonder if that's a lie.  The feeling will probably pass.  It usually does, and I'll feel good.  Until then, I'll stay the course.   Please look in on me from time to time.  I miss you terribly and love you for all eternity.  

B.

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Birthday Girl

 

Happy Birthday to Me!!!! It's not truly my birthday until 1 pm this afternoon.  That's what time I was born.  But today is the big day!!  I am 55 years old.  Quite frankly, it's been a long strange trip. 

If I am completely honest with you, I have lived 10 years longer than I ever imagined.  I had always thought I would die by the time I was 45.  I don't know why.  I do know that's how far my childish imagination took me.

I used to think that I would marry in my 20's, have 4 children, and die some tragic movie-like death.  But, alas, I have never married or had children.  I will probably outlive my entire family and be an old woman surrounded by animals.  Which is not a bad thought, as long as I don't die alone, and my animals end up eating me! 

I do have a boyfriend though.  I am still with Tony.  No, we still have not had our first encounter yet.  But, I am trying to talk him into creating a bubble with me, so we can stay safe while being together.  I sometimes do experience doubts about him, and if he really is serious about me.  I mean we just text, he never calls, and when I call him, I get no answer and he doesn't have voicemail. 

Zelda is my present to myself.  She is 1.5 pounds of joy.  It's so nice to have a living thing to love and take care of.  I just found her on the top shelf of my closet.  Her favorite thing to do is climb.  I'm going to have to keep a close eye on her, stink bug!!

This is my first birthday without Mom.  I feel kind of sad about it, but it's not triggering any type of depression.  I found a couple of photo albums and there are some old pictures of her.  She was so pretty.  

I am officially elderly I think.  I qualify for all kinds of senior discounts.  I'm trying to start off this week with a new will, and attitude.  I want to push myself to succeed.  Ok, maybe succeed is a strong word.  I want to push myself to not give up.  I want to keep going.  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Stream of Consciousness

 

I've been spinning for a week now.  Up and down, mostly down.  I stayed in bed all morning yesterday.  I just slept, it felt good.  The only reason I got up is because I had an appointment.  It was a waste of time.  I should have just cancelled it.  It turns out that I am sucky at this job.  I doubt if I could sell water to a man dying of thirst.

I saw my therapist yesterday.  I cried.  I cried out of frustration and grief.  I have been missing my mom a lot this week.  I try  to talk to her, but I don't get the feeling she is with me.  She is just gone.  It doesn't seem fair.

Maybe there is no afterlife.  Maybe you do just die and that's it.  I have always thought of and believed in angels.  But, if anyone is going to visit me, shouldn't it be my own mother?  I don't know.  Maybe it's me. Maybe, I have compartmentalized my mom's death.  I've done it with a lot of things my brain couldn't handle.  It will probably come out in some horrible nightmare or flashback when I'm not expecting it. 

I can't think right now, I have to go. I need to quiet my mind.  By the way, I finally got a pet of my own.  It's a 12 week old black and white tuxedo kitten.  I have named her Zelda Padme Nataleia.  She is everything I ever wanted in a cat.  

 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Caffeine and Nicotine

I had too many cigarettes today.  I smoked a whole pack.  I normally only smoke 1/2 a pack, but today I guess I was a bit on edge.  I also had too much caffeine.  I had a cup this morning around 6:45.  Then around 3 pm I got a large ice coffee from Panera Bread.  They're having a free coffee special for the summer.  As much as you want for free!  I guess that didn't help my edginess. 

The day started off well enough.  I was excited to get to work.  Somehow, I got distracted by the task at hand, and lost my mojo. I had to pick up my car from the shop today.  That was fine, except I forgot my house key a the shop, and had to drive back over there to find it.  That just made flustered.  I took my regular 2 hour break at noon, but didn't get back home until 2:30.  I had a 3 pm appointment to get ready for, and I finished preparing just in time.

I sell insurance by the way.  Something I thought was probably one of the tackiest jobs in the world, next to car salesman.  But, I like it. No seriously, I do.  I'm not very good at it yet, but I know what I'm doing for the most part.  The company I work for is very supportive and encourages questions.  For the first time in my working life, I feel like my employer really gives a shit.  I shouldn't say employer, because I am after all an independent contractor.  I really work for myself.

Life insurance isn't as boring as it sounds.  It's actually quite interesting.  I'm going to search for an insurance course to take, so it will make me a better representative and help me pass my licensing exam that I have to take in the next 10 months.  But, that all costs money, which I can't spare at the moment. 

This is the first month, where my bank account is in the black.  I didn't bounce anything, which is miraculous.  I'm so bad with money and budgeting.  I plan, but something always seems to get left out.  I wasn't able to pay my rent this month, so I have to pay $400 at least next month.  It's actually $440, but I'll have to delay paying somethings in order to make it work.

I'm not really worried about things going to collections anymore.  My credit is in the sewer, and I just go with the flow.  I have a goal of having a $1500 emergency fund by December 31st, and $500 for Christmas shopping by the end of November.  I also want to be out of debt by March of 2021.  However, if I don't start bringing in some commissions soon, I don't think that's going to happen.  

I did make a tiny sale yesterday.  The commision is only $50, but hell yeah, I'll take it with heartfelt gratitude.  I plan on adopting a kitten for my birthday, and we're supposed to go meet one tomorrow morning.  It's a tuxedo cat named Corduroy.  Stupid name, I know.  But, if she looks like it, her name will be changed to Zelda.  Her full name will be, Zelda Padme Nataleia.  That depends on her though.  Cats tend to pick their humans, not the other way around.  Another kitten may choose me.  

The adoption center is having an adopt one, get one free special.  I nearly fell out of my chair when I read that.  But, as there are already 2 adult cats in the house, we are getting only 1.  That's 3 cats for 3 people.  

There will be a lot of paperwork to fill out no doubt, to make sure that I will be a good mom.  I told them we lived in a house because Zuko and Zabra aren't on the lease.  Neither am I as a matter of fact.  I'll have to ask about that tomorrow.  If it's only $50 or so, I'll fill out the application to be put on the lease.  Of course, that depends on April and Erica.  

I hope Zuko and Zabra are accepting of the little girl.  Maybe Zaby's will act like a mommy.  Zuko will probably ignore her, or chase her around the house.  He's pretty sweet to me, except when he doesn't get his snacks when he wants them.  He attacked my leg the other day and drew blood.  I don't take it personally, he is after all, a cat.  He does come up for kisses and chin scratches.  He likes to come in my room during the day and hangout.  Zabra sometimes sleeps in the box I set up for them that's under my desk.  Zuko likes it too.  He also likes my desk chair.  He'll steal it if I don't watch him.  Then, it's a devil of a time to get him off.  He  usually attacks me later. 

Things have been going pretty well around here as far as getting along.  I'm much more stable than I was a couple of months ago.  I got my meds back to therapeutic levels, so I'm much better mentally.  Physically, I'm still dealing with this pain in my belly.  The results of the ultrasound came back negative for abnormalities.  I'm waiting to hear about my CT scan.  I see a gastroenterologist on Monday.  I don't know what to tell him except there is a pain there, and it hurts a lot at different times. Anyway, more forms, more questions.  Sometimes, I hate my body for all these ailments.  I'm still having that fatigue and bone ache thing, but no one wants to listen to me.  I've had more blood tests, and everything comes back normal.  But, I'm telling you, there is something wrong.

I guess that's all for now.  My eyes are starting to get blurry even with my glasses.  So, I guess I'll find something to watch on TV.  

Peace, Joy, Love -B

  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Wee Small Hours of the Morning

This is the title of a very romantic song, sung by Frank Sinatra.  But, I'm not feeling romantic.  In fact, I don't really know why I am awake.  I had a dream, a disturbing dream.  Not a nightmare, but uncomfortable just the same. 

I woke up, because i the dream, my bed was soaked in blood.  At first, when I woke up, I thought maybe I had my on again, off again excuse for a period.  But, that wasn't the case.  I just had to pee.  Anyway, I did, but then I looked at myself in the mirror.  I should have known better.  I usually keep my eyes half closed when I get up  in the middle of the night.  This helps me get back to sleep, because I don't let in too much light.  But, this time I opened my eyes, and well, here I am, wide away at 3 something. 

My mom was in the dream.  We were arguing in the car.  Again, I was covered in blood.  I don't know what all this blood means, except maybe I am getting a period this month.  Quite frankly, the whole period thing is getting on my nerves.

My sister had a procedure to burn the lining of her uterus to stop her periods.  As soon as I get a little more income, I'm going to get a gynecologist and talk to her about it.  I need one anyway.  It's time for my yearly mammogram next month, or as I like to call it, a smashogram.  It's been a while since I've been up on the rack too.  In addition to a gynecologist, I need an endocrinologist to consult about my freaking diabetes. 

I'm having trouble keeping my sugar levels regulated.  Speaking of which, I forgot to give myself my insulin last night, dammit.  Oh well, it might be a little high this morning.  

The job is going okay.  Still dangling 2 big commissions on my line.  If I can just get these bitches to call me back, I'd be set for a couple of months.  I have a lot of things wrong with my car that need to be fixed.  I need a head gasket, valve cover, interior filter, new headlights, and brakes.  I guess if I totaled it up, I should just get a new car, but my credit is so bad, I can't get a loan.  So, I guess I'll just fix my car and call it a day.  

I want my next car purchase to be my dream car, a 1965 Corvette Stingray convertible in ocean blue with white leather interior and a white top.  I have a picture of it on my vision board.  So, maybe I will just keep my Subaru running, and drive my dream car on the weekends.  I'm going to need a garage to keep it in.  

I have my engagement and wedding on my vision board too.  I have all the details, from the engagement ring to the dress.  I have a list of venues in my phone.  I want to marry Tony.  He's the one, I know it.  He actually wants to meet my family.  Maybe if things work out with the virus, I'll take him to see my dad for Christmas.  Anyway, those are my 3 am musings.  Time for a smoke. 

Peace, Joy, Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girls: Are You There Mom? It's Me

Dear Mom, 

It's me,  Bev.  I haven't written to you in a while.  I've been busy trying to make money.  So far, this month, nothing is happening.  I'm working really hard at it though.  I think that I am doing a good job.  But, I suppose I could do better.  

Sometimes, I just get really tired and cannot push myself like some of the others.  But, I am trying to take care of my physical and mental health, and sometimes, I just need to take breaks.

I have 2 medical appointments next week. On Tuesday, I have an ultrasound of my abdomen, and on Thursday, a CT scan.  I called the doctor yesterday about the belly pain I have been having, and they squeezed me in the same day.  I had a long talk with the nurse, and she talked to the doctor.  Anyway, he also referred me to a gastroenterologist.  I see a Dr. Lord on Monday the 27th.

My belly has really been hurting this past week.  Sometimes all the time, other times after I eat.  I am getting nauseated, bloated and gassy.  Sometimes, it feels like I still have my gallbladder.

I told Dad about, but that is it.  I haven't told April the extent of it.  I figure I will tell them, when there is something to tell.  I do not mind telling you, that I am nervous.

I remember this is how you started way back in the fall of last year.  When I told the doctor about you and grandmom, they were concerned.  They did not say it, but this quick action gives me pause.  Did you feel like you had something stuck in your side?  Did you have bouts of constipation then diarrhea?  I know you vomited sometimes, but that was not often.

I cannot eat what I used to.  I had a cheeseburger today, and I am paying for it now.  It is dinner time and I cannot eat.  I think I will get some cherries.  I am trying to drink a lot of water to flush out my system.  I am peeing just fine, but I feel like I need to poop all the time.  I know it is just gas.  I have been belching an awful lot lately, and I am not a belcher.  I also am farting a lot.  Not enough to suit me right now, because I feel if I could just have one big fart or belch or something , I could relieve this pressure in my gut.

I wish you were here.  You would make me some cream of wheat, only you made it just right.  Nice and smooth, no lumps, and just thick enough.  I suppose I could make myself a scrambled egg and toast.  I finally figured out how to make toast like you.  I managed to get the right setting on the toaster, so that it gets just brown enough, but doesn't burn.  

I know that sounds stupid, but it has taken these 5 months to get it right.  I am getting good with the eggs too. I make egg sandwiches sometimes, so I know how to cook it long enough for the yolk to cook, and if it is just a fried egg, I can cook it so  that the yolk is still a little runny.  My coffee has always been better than your's.  

I bought salmon a couple of times.  It was not as good as your's.  I'm still trying to figure out the best way to cook it.  I know I am not getting enough veggies.  I know I used to complain about it, but I could use some right now. 

It's strange, but some days, I hardly think of you.  Is that bad?  I don't feel guilty about it.  It's just that sometimes, I get so wrapped up in my activities, that I only think about you when I look at your picture hanging on the wall.  I don't know if you know that I am thinking of you, because you don't come to me very much.  You did wake me up the other day, though.  Thanks for that.  I heard you call my name, the way you used to wake me up for school.  It was nice for a minute, but then you were gone.

I wish you would visit more often.  Even Grandmom, Nana or Poppop do not come visit anymore.  Maybe they do not know I moved.  

I am still talking to Tony.  We still have not met in person as we met online, post corona.  But, I know you would have loved him.  He wants to meet the family.  Is that not cool?!!  Anyway, I love him.  I have not said anything to him or anyone, but I do.  

Well, I guess that's all for now.  I just wanted to check in and tell you the goings on of me.  Please come visit on my birthday.  If you can stay a while, that would be great, if not just come as a butterfly and flutter past my window.  I love you Mommy.

B   

  

 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Trust Your Gut

I'm having tummy trouble.  I say this a flippantly, but I am concerned.  Things are happening healthwise, that have got me worried again.  Yesterday, I woke up and I could hardly move.  My joints were screaming and on fire.  I was only able to make a slow shuffle to the bathroom.  Once, I got there, I couldn't go.  So, I was like, great constipated again.  Then, I noticed my glands were swollen in my neck and armpits.  I had a low grade fever, and I felt nauseated.  Also, I was exhausted.

Ok, here we go again, with that mysterious ailment that my doctor had dismissed as just menopausal symptoms.  Later that morning, I had explosive diarrhea.  I was also full of gas.  This is not menopause.  This is something.  Menopause doesn't make your glands swell, or nauseous.  I was looking up all kinds of things I thought it could be.  I finally decided, that I may have chronic fatigue syndrome.

I also thought about my mom's symptoms before she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  She had digestive issues, gas, bloating and nausea.  Her doctor dicked her around with gas relievers, etc.  Well, you can bet your ass, my doctor is getting a call first thing in the morning about this.  In addition, I had some blood work done last Wednesday that I want the results of.  He ordered a full metabolic panel.  He said it was to check my kidney function because of all the medicines I'm on, but I want to see if it also includes pancreas functions.

Cancer runs in my mom's side of the family.  My grandfather had mesothelioma, my grandmother had colon cancer, and my uncle had brain cancer.  All of them died from cancer.  So, naturally, I am concerned.  However, my doctor does not seem to take me seriously.  I think  he sees me as a nice, but crazy person who is prone to hypochondria.  I am not a hypochondriac.  It's just that I know my body, and I know  when something isn't right.  I do not feel right.  

I must admit, I don't always eat right.  But, I've been having this fatigue, joint pain thing for a few months now, and the digestive issues for a month.  I've got to find some way for someone to listen to me.  I went into the other room the other day and April said that I looked tired and terrible.  Seriously, my gut hasn't plagued me this bad since I had my gallbladder out in 1986.

The only way I do get any relief is to lay on my stomach with my right leg bent.  That moves some of the gas around so I can fart.  I'm telling you, farting feels really good to me these days.  I would feel better with some type of scan.  I don't particularly want to have cancer, thank you very much.  I'm a little too busy.

Right now, I've got a pocket of gas in my belly that is causing me some major discomfort.  Do you have any idea what it's like to have to fart, or poop or something and nothing happens?  I would kind of like to have a little explosion right now.  At least then I'd get rid of this gas.  I haven't noticed anything weird like blood or anything.  My colonoscopies have always been clear.  I am due for one this year.  I usually have one, and my gynecological visit around my birthday just so I don't forget.

I have been under some stress lately.  I've been working really hard, especially last week.  I've got 2 really huge deals lined up.  I just hope I haven't missed the window.  I also have to take my car in for service so I can pass the emissions test and get my new tags.  I am praying that it costs next to nothing to fix, but if it does, maybe my brother will help me.  I doubt he will though  He hasn't answered my calls or texts since February

I guess he's mad at me for some reason.  But, it is what it is.  Nothing I can do about it seems.  I've been feeling much more "so what" about people lately.  Either you like me or you don't.  I don't seem to be so desperate for people to like me anymore.  It comes from the job, I guess.  

I really need some relief.  I've tried probiotics, and nothing.  I've tried fruits and veggies and had some luck.  Okay, maybe not.  I go, but again, I explode.  Something's going on in there, and I aim to find out what it is.  I guess I need a gastroenterologist.  We'll see what happens. Sooner rather than later for sure.

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Let Me Off This Ride

A few days ago I was in a spiral down into a depressive episode.  However, I have now done a complete 180.  I  woke up today feeling great for no apparent reason.  I know it's mania because my insides are churning and I feel like I'm rushing to  get somewhere.  I want to go outside and run down the street.

I have an unquenchable thirst to clean my room, although I just cleaned it the other day. I  want to vacuum again.  I did change the bed linens, and wash what little was in my laundry basket.  I took a 15 minute shower and scrubbed everything.

I want to clean the bathroom.  But, I can't because of my back.  It already hurts today.  If I do anything I am aching to do, I won't be able to walk for the rest of the day.  I can't concentrate on anything for more than 10 minutes.  I tried to watch Aquaman last night.  I couldn't do it.  I kept finding other things to do.  I've been scrolling through social media like a maniac.

I find I am desperate for some  type of  human contact.  I have not  had another human touch me since I was in the hospital.  I have not had a hug since February.  The only physical contact I've had has been the cats.  I still haven't actually physically met Tony.  I am in love with him, but I'm not saying a word until we've actually dated for a month or so.  I don't want to be the first to say it.  I think I will come off as too needy.

I didn't work last week.  I had laryngitis complicated by strep throat.  Fun, right?  I am finally getting my voice back.  It's froggy, but I can talk.  Hopefully, it sounds more  authoritative than my normal  voice, which I think is rather childlike.  All my adult life, people have called me and asked to speak to my mom. I wish my voice was sexy.  I think I'll have some success this week with my froggy voice. haha.

I wish I  could level out. I'm tired of climbing high and plummeting down.  I'd like a level field for a few months.  Actually, I'd like to be stable for the rest of the year, but I don't see that happening.   These mood swings are just too frequent and too extreme.  Sometimes, I sleep too much, sometimes not at all.  To top it all off, my sugar is not regulated because I'm out of my metformin for my diabetes.  I called for it last week, and the doctor was suppose to send it in, but the pharmacy didn't get it.  I'm craving sugar like a vampire craves blood.  I'm trying to control myself, but it's difficult.

I joined an online diabetes type 2 support group. I'm not sure what I'll get out of it, but what the hell.  I've got no one else to talk to about this shit.  It's kind of like my bipolar support group.  Only people who have these disorders really understand the struggle.  I want my mom.  She understood.  Even if she didn't, she was there with a smile, a hug and a kind word.  I don't get that around here.  I mostly get accusatory questions and looks.

I want to get off this stupid ride.  I want to throw my meds down the drain and just be normal.  Unfortunately, if I do that, I'll end up dead from one thing or the other.  Sometimes, I wonder if I care.  I guess I do, otherwise I would have killed myself by now. Goodness knows I have the means.  I think I need to go visit my dad for a week or so.  I need to connect with him in person.  I do get a lot from our calls, but I want to throw my arms around him, have his beard on my face and give him a big kiss.

I guess what, I'm saying, is I'm not happy today.  Just as I'm writing, my mood has changed to irritable.

Let me off this ride please.  I've had enough for today.

Peace Joy Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Best

I remember as I was growing up, the adults always said try your best.  So, I did.  But sometimes my best was not enough.  Not to my way thinking, anyhow.  I had to be better than anyone and everyone.  I had to be better than the black kids, the white kids, every kid.  Soon after, I had to be better than myself. 

This way of thinking put me in some very stressful situations, and set off a pattern of thinking that was not only sick, but self destructive. I began to think that no matter what I did, I could have and should have done better.  Getting a 95% on a test was unacceptable.  It should have been a 98%.  When that wasn't enough, it became that only a 100% would do.  And if there was extra credit? Well, I went for it!  

After a while, I began to turn that increasingly critical eye to my appearance.  I have always hated my body.  My hair wasn't long enough.  My nose was too wide, and my eyes were too small.  I wanted to be high yellow like my mom.  And my body?  Well, I was and am fat.  I wore a size 13 in high school.  It wasn't bad by any means as I look at some old pictures of myself.  But, when all of your friends are like a size 10 and  below, you stand out as the fat one.  Actually, in high school, I was quite pretty.  I didn't know it then, but a lot of people thought so, even the boys.

I didn't pay much attention to boys back then.  I was scared of them.  After having been molested as a child, and raped at 14, I saw all males as predators.  I felt that way until very recently.  I'm still intimidated by some men.  But, for the most part, I just see them as people, just some of them are animals.  I will never  be attacked again.  I will die first, and do all I can to take him with me.

I still feel in competition with people and myself.  I ask myself every day if I have done my best.  There are a few days, when I can actually say yes.  Most of the time though, I  have to say no.  Like this week.  I  used my bipolar as an excuse to not work.  I just curled up  and slept.  I told them I was sick, which I was.  But, I'm not about to tell anyone here that I have rapid cycling bipolar 2 disorder and all the rest of my mental diagnosis.  It's bad enough that I copped to having PTSD. I don't want to  appear totally crazy.  It's cost me enough already.

I am feeling better though.  The fog lifted somewhat, and I'm not so tired. I think just taking these past few days to rest and take care of my needs helped.  It may seem selfish and lazy to some, but fuck them.  Living in my head for 24 hours would give them nightmares that they would never forget.

I guess I must admit, I am a bit lazy.  Being unemployed for 10 years to  working 10 hours a day is not an easy adjustment to make, especially in such a shitty year like 2020 has been.  First, I lose my mom, then we cannot even celebrate her  life because of this damn virus.  We are on the verge of another statewide shut down, because  people are being noncompliant with health regulations. Schools may not reopen, and sports may be cancelled because of it.  Football without fans??? Where's the fun in that??

The nation as a whole is not trying it's best, but I am.  I bought a sparkly pink reusable mask, so I am making a fashion statement, as well as doing my part.

So, am I doing my best?  Sometimes, all I can do is get out of bed and wash my face.  On days like that, you bet your sweet ass, I'm doing my best.  On days like today, when I could be doing something more productive, no I am not doing what is my idea of my best.  But then, there's the question.  What is my best compared to what do I define my best to be?  As I continue to unlearn old negative thinking patterns, this idea of my best is evolving.  I'm learning not to put so much pressure on myself, relieving me from inner turmoil and self destructive behavior.  So, is my new best not as good as my old best?  Probably, but we shall see.  I will try a little harder next week at work to make up some lost time, regain my footing and get my motivation back.  I will just do my best.

Peace, Joy, Love- B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Descent

I woke up today feeling worse than yesterday.  Right now, I am numb.  I don't feel much of anything but tired.  I'm trying to push through because that's all I can do.  Fortunately, my mind is not spinning with negative thoughts yet.  But, I'm sure it's coming.
I hate this disease.  It is so unpredictable and frustrating.  The emotional rollercoaster is exhausting.  It is also taking a toll on my body.  I have digestive issues.  Basically,  my stomach is in knots and sometimes, I get constipated.  When I am manic, I go all the time.  Food has no flavor or it taste like metal.
The frustrating thing is, there's nothing I can do about it.  It is how this disease affects me.  It's different for everyone.  I am a member of a Facebook support group, we all post about what's going on in our lives and give each other comfort and encouragement.  It's kind of weird to discuss my life with total strangers, but those that have this disease are the only people who truly understand.
My sister is home today.  She asked me why I look so tired.  I told her I was tired, and that I am crashing after my mania of last week.  She asked me what I do about it.  I just said, I have to just push through the best I can.
Writing is part of the process of pushing through this crap.  It helps me work out my emotions, so hopefully,I can head off the depression.  I think I will make a list like I did for Aunt Berta, so they know what to look for when I am going through an episode.  It was helpful, I think, even though she did kick me out of the house.  I'm thinking, if they see the symptoms, they will better understand how to help me.
The descent always starts with lack of appetite and sleeping a lot.  Then comes lack of basic hygiene.  Then, I'm in my room all day, curtains drawn, not speaking.  I sometimes don't come out, even to smoke.  Then, I just cry all the time.  By this time, the dark thoughts are spinning in my head all the time.  I feel worthless, stupid and totally inconsequential.  It's as if my existence is a mistake of epic proportions and I don't deserve to live.  At this point, medical intervention is crucial.  I also don't answer my phone or call anyone.
Thankfully, I'm not there yet.  I'm at the beginning stages.  I guess I should take a walk.  The doctor keeps saying that exercise improves mood because it releases endorphins.  My head hurts so bad right now.  I can barely keep my eyes open.  I've been up for 3 hours and I'm ready to go to bed.  But, I made the bed, that usually prevents me from getting back in it.  It's a conscious decision.  I also managed to wash my face and brush my teeth.  I didn't fix my hair, and my clothes are clean.  I guess I'm doing okay today so far.
I wish my mom was here.  I could really use one of her hugs.  I long to bury my head close, and just hear her heart beating.  I did call my dad yesterday.  It brought some comfort.  It's not the same as being in person, but it will have to do for now.  I miss my  mom so much the past few days.  It's like she was the only one who really understood.  No one in my family really does.  I tried contacting my brother last week, but he never replied.  I guess I don't have a brother anymore.  Oh well, it's not like I haven't tried.  I'll still try  and send him something for his birthday on the 17th.
I wonder who will be there for me if I do descend further into darkness.  I guess I will have to carry my own torch.  No one else will.  Everyone has made that perfectly clear.  I'm on my own.  I guess I'm just going to have to be okay with that.  What other choice do I have?

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Don't Believe the Hype, Hypomania that is

Today is Tuesday, June 30th, 2020.  After a glorious week of feeling great, the crash has begun.  Well, actually, it started yesterday.  I have slept 40 hours out of the last 48.  The alarm goes off, and I throw my hand over to turn it off.  Then, I pull the covers over my head and go back  to sleep.  The only reason I get up is to go to the bathroom.
I have no appetite, but I choke down an egg so I can take  my meds.  Today, I did manage to shower and put on some clean clothes.  I spent yesterday in my pajamas.  I tell myself to do things, but my heart just isn't in it.  Something as minor as brushing my teeth becomes a chore instead of a mindless habit.
My hands are shaking, and my body droops.  My eyes are constantly rolling back into my head as I struggle to stay awake.  I even got a large iced-coffee at McDonald's, but it's not helping.  Caffeine doesn't affect me the way it does other people.  It sometimes makes me sleepy.  I think that's a sign of ADD.  I guess I'll have to mention it to my primary care doctor next week when I see him.
I like being a little manic. I get so much done.  I clean my room, wash everything. I organize my closet and clean my bathroom.  Not that I messy, you understand,  but everything is just clean.  I like clean.  Clutter and dirt tend to freak me out.  I get very anxious when things are out of place.
However, I do know that after mania comes the crash.  That's what I'm experiencing right now.  I can tell you, that as I am writing this, it is taking all my energy, just to hold my head up.  My head is fuzzy and buzzing. 
I haven't been stable for over a year.  Stable for me is a year without a med change.  My meds have changed many times over the past year.  I saw my doctor last week, and she wants to start taking me off some of my meds, because I am on 9 meds for bipolar.  I am a little anxious about it, because I don't want to start falling into rapid cycling episodes.  I don't think I'm stable enough.  Anyway, it's something we'll talk about next month.
When I saw her last week, she said she wanted me to lose 3 lbs to get down to an even 200 lbs.  Well, I have lost 4 lbs.  This is the lowest weight I have ever been in my adult life.  I'm hoping to get down to 150 lbs by the end of December.  It's perfectly doable.  I'm not really even trying.  I don't eat as much as I used to, as a result, my stomach has shrunk a lot.  I just can't take in a lot of food.  Since, I no longer eat a lot of fried food, sugar or meat, that helps too.  I do eat complex carbs, though.  I must admit, I need to eat more fresh fruits and veggies, but that's expensive.
In the meantime, I am just puttering along in my days.  Sometimes, I feel great, other times not great.
In a surprising twist of events, my sister texted me today, to see if I was okay.  How about that?!
I told her yeah, I was just crashing after my high of last week.  Does this mean, she is finally starting to recognize and acknowledging my disease?  I don't know.  But, it felt good that she asked.  I am trying to be more communitive about my emotional state, so they know how to help me.  That's only fair.  They can't read me like my mom could.  I have to admit that, and take some of the blame of their past reactions to my meltdowns.
I'm now exhausted again.  Sometimes, putting my thoughts in an organized, comprehensive way of understanding makes me tired, and I get a headache.  So, I am going to take a nap.  Maybe, I'll feel better later. 
Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Sunday, Funday??

It's Sunday.  It's supposed to be a day to spend with family and friends relaxing around the house.  Well, I don't have any friends around here.  All of my friends are online and live far away.  As far as family is concerned, it's just my sister April and niece, Erica.  Our closest relatives live in South Carolina.  I'm only really close to one uncle, anymore.  The aunt that I lived with, along with my mom, doesn't communicate with me.  Honestly, It doesn't really bother me much anymore.
I've learned some things about myself with this new career path that I'm on, people can be mean and extremely rude.  I'm quickly learning to get a thicker skin.  I've also learned, their attitudes aren't about me.  I mean, I want people to like me, but if they don't it's really their loss, isn't it?
I'm part of a team at work, and we all encourage each other, and applaud each others success.  I can go to my manager at any time with questions, and I am never dismissed.  They truly believe that questions are important.  I am never made to feel stupid or inadequate.  I am enough.  This is the first time in my life, I truly felt part of something.
Anyway, what was I talking about?  Oh yeah, Sunday.  When I was little, we lived in the city, and on Sunday afternoon, we would ride out to either grandparents house for dinner.  It was only like a half hour ride, but it seemed like hours to a 5 year old.  My grandparents lived in the suburbs, but it seemed like they lived way out in the country.  There were fields, and woods and sometimes I would see animals.  It was great, and the air was so sweet.  Those were some good times.  My cousins would be there, and we'd play down at the creek until dinner was ready.
My grandmom was a great cook.  She worked for a wealthy white family as a cook and housekeeper.  They treated her like family, paid into her social security and everything.  They took really good care of her.  I remember when she died, the youngest son was devastated.  He wept throughout the service.
She always fixed a roast of some kind.  We would have beef, or lamb.  Sometimes, she would bake a ham.  Her desserts were magnificent.  She made the best chocolate pudding I have ever had to this day.
After dinner, while the adult children cleaned up, us little kids would go back outside if it was still light out.  If not, we would flop on the floor and watch Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.  After that was The Wonderful World of Disney!! Those were the days when the whole family watched TV together.  It's starting to come back now, since the virus.  People aren't going out much, plus the streaming sites are putting on more family friendly shows and movies.
I tried watching Bedknobs and Broomsticks by myself last weekend, but I fell asleep.  Last night I fell asleep again with the TV on.  I'm so tired right now. I had an angry dream about my mom again.  I guess I need to talk about that with my therapist tomorrow.
So, what am I doing on my Sunday? I'm laundry!! I love the smell of fresh laundry.  I like to hear the washer and dryer going.  So, I don't mind.  I need to vacuum, but I can't do it because of my back.  I'll have to ask April to do it.  Oh well, I guess that's all for now.  I just had some things on my mind and needed to write so I would keep spinning around in my head. 
PEACE, JOY LOVE - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Life So Far Without You

Hi Mom,
I was just thinking about you and I thought I would write and let you know what's been going on.  It's been  a rollercoaster ride the past few weeks.  My emotions have been all over the place,
About a month ago, I wasn't feeling so well.  I stopped taking my meds, and then I was so thirsty all the time.  Anyway to make a long story short, I ended up in the hospital with hyperglycemia.  My blood sugar had skyrocketed to over 700. 
I was in intensive care for 4 days.  Even if you were here, you couldn't have visited me, because of the virus.  It was kind of nice being in the hospital, having people taking care of me.  No one is looking out for me anymore.  I've had to put on my big girl panties and take control of my own health.  I suppose that's the way it should be, but I liked having someone who could look  at my eyes and tell if I felt good or not.
Things have gotten a little better with April and Erica, now that I have a little extra money coming in.  It's not much, but I did sell a couple of policies that gave me a small commision.  I'm hoping to get another check this coming Friday. 
I'm still working from home, which I hope I can continue to do.  I'm not sure at this point how I would do if I had to hit the road.  When I get bored, I take pictures of the cats and post them on Facebook. I make up things for them to say.  People really seem to enjoy my writing.  Your not missing much on TV. All of the shows had to stop production back in March because of the virus.  I've been watching murder documentaries.  I don't know why, but that stuff just fascinates me.  I know you don't approve and want me to watch something to make me laugh.  A lot of times I do. But, I work from 9-9, so I have to catch what I can during the day.  By the time bedtime comes around, I can barely see.
Speaking of seeing, I need glasses.  I think I need bifocals at that.   I'm getting so old, mommy.  I don't feel like I should be 55.  I guess that's because I'm immature.
I've started calling Dad a lot more often than once a week.  Sometimes, we talk for a while.  Other times, it's his famous 3 minute check-in call.  But, he doesn't seem to mind.  I know I really like it.  I tell him about my job and he gives me advice and encouragement. 
I still see my therapist once a week.  It's going pretty well.  I'm talking a lot.  Which is good I guess.  I had a meltdown a couple of weeks ago, so I've been seeing the psychiatrist more often.  She had to adjust my meds a couple of times.  I think it's finally right.  We'll see in 4 more weeks I guess.
I haven't heard from  Jerry for a long time.  I don't know why.  I miss him.  Tell him to call me or something.
On Friday the 26th, it will be 4 months since you died.  I hope Heaven is all you dreamed it would be.
Tell everyone I said hello.  I love you Mommy, now and forever.
B
 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Hidden Anger

If you ask almost anyone who knows me, they will tell you that I'm a nice, quiet person who is generous, loving and doesn't cause trouble.  Sounds like the description of your average serial killer, right?  Well, that's pretty much me.  No, I'm not confessing to a murder.  I've never killed anyone, but I sure as hell thought about it.
I have found that people who have suffered trauma, have incredible deep seated rage.  They are angry at their abusers, and the people that failed to come to their aid. 
I have plotted revenge on the kids who bullied me while growing up.  I have dreamed of torturing and cruelly castrating my rapist.  There are times when I dream of shooting up places or bombing buildings because of something someone did to me.  But, the difference is, I know right from wrong.  I know it is a sin.  I suppose I need to go to confession about these impure thoughts.
I had a dream about my mom last night.  We were in the kitchen at our house.  I was so made at her.  I snapped at her, and made faces every time she spoke.  When she asked me why, I told her I didn't like her anymore.  Then, I woke up.  I wasn't upset about the dream.  I was just curious.
I thought about it a while and realized, that I was entering another stage of grief. Anger.  I am so mad at her for leaving me.  I have so much to tell her and she's not here.  I don't feel her with me.  It's like she disappeared.  My grandparents still come to me.  Why not her?  Where is she?  Why did she stop coming to see about me?  Does she think I'm doing okay?  Well, I guess I am, but last week, I barely held it together.  Where was she then?
There were times when I was growing up, I hated her.  I hated that she was a paranoid schizophrenic. I hated the knots in my stomach every time I came home from school.  I hated the suicide attempts and everything that went with her disease.
Now that I have bipolar with schizoid affect, I get it now.  But, I still hate it.  I am learning, finally, after 35 years, not to take this anger out on myself or others.  I' channeling it in other directions.  Mostly, I'm working a lot, and writing.  So far, it's working. 
#Peace #Joy #Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The New Normal

We have been on statewide lockdown for a little over a month now.  A new virus crept over the world in the latter part of 2019.  It's a novel corona virus, so it is called covid-19.  It's a virus that invades the lungs and causes you to slowly choke to death.  Anyway, as of today there are something like 543k Americans infected and close to 47k American deaths.  The current administration's response has been slow and chaotic.
President Chump  has shown himself as he really is, a liar, a cheat, and mentally unfit for this position.  He has defied scientists, and fires those who contradict him.  I refuse to say his true name because it turns my stomach.  I never liked him, even when he was just a piggish business man.  He is such a narcissist, that it is a true personality disorder.
Anyway, we have been banned from nonessential travel.  You can go to the store for groceries, doctor appointments, and drive-thrus for food.  But, most businesses have been closed.  Many people have lost their jobs, which is unfortunate, but isn't that better than losing your life?
The lockdown didn't really affect me emotionally as I am introverted anyway.  I don't like crowds of people.  I don't go out very often.  I started a new job a few weeks ago, and I am working at home which suits me just fine.
I haven't been feeling too well for the past few weeks.  My joints hurt a lot, and I am extremely tired no matter how much rest I get.  My sister insisted I get a covid test, so I got one yesterday.  I get the results back tomorrow.  I see my primary care doctor tomorrow also.  I really wanted to go to the office because I want a blood test.  However, it a telemed call.  I'll talk to him frankly, and explain my concerns.  I know there is something wrong medically, not mentally.  I will not be dismissed.  Wish me luck.  B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Spring Cleaning

It's Spring.  The weather is getting warmer and the air is clean since the stay home order went into effect.  There aren't as many cars on the road, so there is less pollution.  Funny how people are now realizing that all of the problems of air, noise and water pollution are the fault of humankind. I always knew this.  Some of the shit heads in government have no choice but to admit that they were wrong.

I started today with a good attitude.  At least, that's what I conjured up a little bit later in the morning.
I woke up at 6:15 am, a full 1/2 hour before my alarm.  I had to pee so I got up. I'm always a bit dazed when I wake up.  It's the drugs I take before bed.  I go and put on my coffee, then go smoke a cigarette.  If you remember from my introduction, I said I was trying to quit smoking?  Well, the struggle remains.  However, with all of the things going on in my life right now,  it's not a major concern.
I had physical therapy at 8 am.  I'm still trying to recover from the back surgery I had in November.  I think I am just going to have to face the fact, that I am going to be in pain for the rest of my life. Most of the time it's bearable.  But, there are some days when it feels like my back is broken in two.  I just want to rip out my spine and soak it in cold water or something. 
Well, I did a little cleaning in my room.  I went through some papers, and organized my desk.  I have all kinds of papers for work, and they were just in a big pile.  So, I organized them by topic and filed them accordingly.  That way, I should be able to find what I need more easily, rather than shuffle through a bunch of paperwork.
Work is going pretty well.  It's stressful because there is so much to learn and remember, but it is interesting.  The hours are long.  The other night, I didn't get done until 10 pm.   I hope I can keep up.  I have a set  routine for bed, and I try to get lights out at 11 pm.  If I get ready for bed at 10, I watch TV for an hour just to relax and let my meds take effect. 
I usually watch sitcoms, something that I don't have to think about too much.  I like something that will put a smile on my face before I go to bed.
So, I have some more physical and spiritual cleaning to do  this weekend.  I need to dust my room, change the bed, vacuum, wash clothes and file some more papers.  Spiritually, I must start attending Mass again.  I am sending a membership request to become a member of the Catholic Church of St. Monica.  It's not to  far from me and it looks very nice.
well, that's all for now I guess.  I  have a couple of things to do before I get back to work.

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Letter to My Mom

Dear Mom,

It's been seven weeks and one day since you left the physical world.  How can I explain the incredible vacuum that is in my life right now?  I have spoken to you on so many occasions and imagined our conversations, but it is not enough.  I want you here, next to me, on the phone, wherever, but here in my world.
Sometimes, when I think of you it brings joy to me. Other times, your memory brings a sadness that's almost too much to bear.  It happens all the time.  I could be watching TV, or eating something, or even driving in my car.  Then suddenly, your face flashes before me, and I remember that you're gone.
I have never asked why.  I never questioned God for taking you away.  I prayed that if He did not heal you, to take you quickly.  So, He did.  There was still a trace of the little child in me, that hoped you would live forever, so I would never have to go through this.  But, I realize that was selfish, and impossible.  So, I had to let you go.
Things in the world are so crazy right now, that we haven't been able to say a proper goodbye.  Your celebration has been postponed until further notice. So, the family is in limbo, at least I am.  I am moving on with life despite my feelings.  We had your birthday party, as you know since you showed up and flickered the candle.  I hope you liked it.
I think you would be proud of me for the way I'm handling things.  I have not fallen into a deep, dark pit of despair that everyone was worried about.  I got a job at American Income as a benefits representative.  Basically, I speak to people about the benefits their group has set up for them and see if they qualify for more.  I know it sounds like I'm just an insurance salesman, but it's much more than that.  I help people evaluate their lives and point out the gaps in insurance that would leave their families in deep financial distress.
Also, you know about Tony.  Oh my gosh mom, he is so wonderful, and funny, sweet, charming, smart and supportive.  I told him all about my condition, and he didn't bat an eyelash.  Instead, he disclosed his own battle with depression.  How great is that?  Anyway, we are totally connected.  I haven't actually met him in person yet, since we started talking during the lockdown.  But, mom, I really like him, and I think you would have too.
I've really been thinking of going back to church regularly.  The world is just so crazy, I need some to anchor me.  I have gotten closer to God, but I haven't attended a worship service, not even virtually.  I don't know why.  I know it would do me good, but it's like "no, you can't!"  It's a matter of the scientific part of my brain talking to my soul.  So far, my brain is winning.  I can't find a televised worship service here that is Scripture driven.  It just seems like a bunch of shouting to me, or televangelists asking for money.  I have to admit, I didn't check out Saint Monica's yet for virtual services yet, so I guess I'm just making excuses for my laziness.  I promise to check it out.
Well Mommy, I guess that's all for now.  It feels really good to talk to you and let you know how I'm feeling and what's going on.  I wish I could print this out and mail it to you.  I suppose I could tie it to a balloon and send it upwards, but then there's the whole environmental impact to worry about, and powerlines and such.  So, I'll just send it to you by brain waves.  Please know how much I love you and miss you.  You are my heartbeat
Love, B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Mom

Today is my mom's birthday.  She would have been 80 years old.  She died on February 26, 2020 of pancreatic cancer.  It took her quickly.  She was diagnosed on New Year's Day.  I was devastated when I learned of the diagnosis.  But her death was kind of a relief.
You see, my mom and I had a very intense connection.  I spent most of my life living in fear of her death.  My mom was a paranoid schizophrenic, who had attempted suicide 3 times when I was growing up.  I walked around in a constant state of anxiety until the day she died.
It's weird I know, but now that my greatest fear has been realized, the knot in my stomach has loosened.  I miss her terribly.  The first week, I woke up every day and reached for the phone to call her.  When I realized she wasn't there, my heart broke again and again.
Now, when I think of her, I smile.  I remember her laughter, her smile, the little things that she would say when we talked.  I remember how she used to talk me down from a panic attack.  I remember all the times she came to the hospital to visit me when I was inpatient.
She never gave up on me. She always told me that I was beautiful, smart, and a good person.  She loved me when I couldn't love myself.  I have fallen so many times, and it was my mom who encouraged me to trust God, and get back up.  Sometimes, she would just look at me, and ask me if I needed a hug.  I would fall into her arms and she'd hold me tight.  It always felt like she was putting my broken pieces back together.
I remember our family tradition of waffles on Sunday morning.  We still do that to this day. 
My mom loved hard. She was devoted to her family.  When she and my dad got divorced, she never remarried.  She didn't want anyone else.  So, she just concentrated on us kids, and her siblings. Her love never waivered, unless you did something unforgivable.  But, if you knew my mom, you couldn't hurt her.  She just had such a big heart. 
Heaven has her now.  She is dancing and singing with the Lord.  I can't be mad at that.  I'm not angry at her for dying.  I now have to rely on the things that she taught me, in order to look after myself.  So, far things are going pretty well.  I have a new job, and I met someone I really, really like.  I talk to her a lot, and I know she's happy for me.  There  are times when I wish I could see her in person, but I know she is always there, watching me.
I just want to make her proud.  I love you Mommy, now and forever!!!!

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Free Falling

It's been a long time.  I wish I could say things were good, but I can't.  I guess I will start by saying I have relocated to Duluth, GA.  This was not my choice.  I was asked to leave my former residence by my aunt, who simply stated that I had to go by the end of summer 2019.  She gave me three months. 

I guess it's my own fault really.  I was very depressed, and had been hospitalized 3 times in as many months.  I attempted suicide.  I felt completely worthless and a burden.  I tried to find a place of my own, but couldn't afford it.  My brother and sister talked, and it was decided I would move to Duluth to live with her.
It hasn't been easy.  My sister doesn't really want me here, and doesn't talk to me about my feelings or emotions. I am still depressed, and no one in my family wants to deal with me.  I am constantly told to get myself together.  I have a therapist, but can't afford to see her often.  I am still on medication, but can't afford it all the time. 
I have been looking, but can't find a job.  I don't even know if I can work.  I just feel so useless all of the time.  I am alone most of the time.  I have no friends.  I spend a lot of time just listening to the radio or watching tv.
Whenever I post my feelings on Facebook, people tell me I am not alone or I should talk to God.  I don't think He hears me anymore.  My pain is relentless and unending.  I have been suicidal the past week, but I am not going to the hospital again.  I will disappear or die first.
Now, things are as bad as they've ever been.  My mom has pancreatic cancer, and I am devastated.  No one will talk about it, and I am not handling it well.  Once again, I have been told to get myself together.  My mom is fading fast, and I can't bear it.  My mom is my best friend and confidante.  I don't think I can live without her.
I am free falling through time and space and I am alone with only my screams to accompany me.  The growing darkness of my mental state is enveloping me, and no one seems to notice.  I am dying.  I don't think I'll be missed.