Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: True Grit

 

There's a song by a group called Soul II Soul. The first line is "Back to life, back to reality." Well, That about sums up things for me. I'm back at work. I found us a new home. I'm also starting school tomorrow for medical billing and coding. It's a certificate program. It lasts 9 months, so I will be done in August. 

Getting here was tough. It took a lot of self control, determination and grit. I had to fight off anxiety attacks, creeping depression and my all around fear of chaos. Our house was in such disarray of which I had no control. I hate a mess. I hate clutter. For a solid month, I had to live with it. It's a wonder I made it out of the situation without some kind of breakdown. 

To top it all off, I was put in charge of finding us an apartment. We had kind of been evicted from the old place. We just couldn't afford it anymore, especially with my employment status being unstable. However, my credit was the only one good enough to rent an apartment. The only problem was that the apartment communities to which I applied kept saying I didn't have enough income. Apparently, there is some kind of arbitrary rule that states you should make about 3 times the rental amount per month to rent an apartment. I feel that that is bullshit. No wonder Atlanta has the highest eviction and foreclosure rate in the state. It's very expensive to live here. 

But after jumping through hoops and doing a dance for the apartment people, I secured a 1 bedroom apartment for us. It's something I can pay on my own if I must. Rent is $1711 per month. I'm also paying the electric bill. We are all responsible for 1/3 of the rent and our own phone bills. I added my sister and niece along with the car to my insurance policy. We split the bill. We also split the rent 3 ways since we are all working. 

Work is going okay. I was in training for a month, but I'm back on the phone this week at my normal hours on Tuesday. We have a shift bid on Nov. 6th and I'm hoping to get the 9 am to 5:45pm shift. I don't have any place to work in privacy anymore, so I'm set up in the dining room. April and Erica get home around 6 pm, and my hours end at 8 pm. It's going to be very inconvenient. 

If you haven't done the math, there are 3 people and 4 animals in a 1 bedroom apartment. It's very cozy, but so far we haven't had any blowouts or screaming matches. I am very grateful that we are all still together and safe. The apartment is okay, we had to leave a lot of stuff in the storage unit that we had rented when we got the eviction notice. Of course, we packed in a hurry, so we don't know where a lot of things are. As we've needed things we've gone back to the unit and looked for things, like winter clothes. 

Summer left without a word and Fall rushed in so faced and chilly. So, we had to go get our hoodies and scarves. The complex has a lot of trees and it's sort of woodsy, so it gets chilly when the sun goes down. 

I see my psychiatrist every 3 weeks, and I still see my therapist once a week. It's going pretty well. Last week wasn't good. I was very down, and just  wanted to pull the covers over my head, so that's what I did for 3 days. I didn't tell April and Erica. I didn't want them to get mad at me. But, they did notice I was feeling down. One day last week I was completely unfocused and unable to concentrate. I got lost going to the store, and I kept forgetting what I was doing. My psychiatrist told me  to check with my doctor to get some liver tests run, because I was also having abdominal pain and fatigue. I am hoping to get an appointment on the 10th of November, since I'm off that day. 

Well, I guess that's all. It's back to this thing called life. There are times when my mind still wanders as I wonder if this is really all there is. Don't get me wrong, I know how blessed I am. I am truly grateful to God for all He has done for me. I just wonder, you know. 

Peace Joy Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Happiest Unhappy Girl

 

Today, I have completed my second full week at work. I went back to work on September 1st. We had off for labor day. Yes, I'm still at Delta Dental. They didn't fire me, and since I haven't found another job, I didn't quit. 

My disability insurance finally came through, which is a blessing. I'm still looking for a new job, but I feel kind of guilty about it. My supervisor has been so loyal and supportive, I'd hate to tell her I'm quitting. However, we've talked quite often about me finding a position that makes me happy, and being on the phone is not something I want to do. 

My next step is to move up to a level 2 associate. That will probably happen in the next 6 months if I keep performing like I'm currently doing in training. My supervisor got me back into training, so I wasn't thrust back on the phones. I'll be in training until October 24th. I am so happy about that, I could spit. 

My brother still is not speaking to me, but he sends me money every week or so for gas money. I don't send him any messages or anything, as I am blocked. He communicates through April. I've been paying him $250 a month for my car and I pay on the 10th or 11th so he has it by the 15th when it's due. I can't say I miss him much. I really don't think about him much. 

I don't think about my parents too much either. I still talk to them at night when I see their stars outside. I wonder how it got to be that way. 4 months ago I was suicidal with grief. But now I'm doing quite well. My doctor got me on the right meds and I see my therapist once a week. I do daily affirmations, and positive self talk. I haven't had any intrusive thoughts. I have a suicidal thought every so often, and get an auditory hallucination from time to time. But I can call either my doctor or therapist at any time. 

Now for the bad news. We got evicted. We got the notice the beginning of last month, but we don't have a hearing date yet so  we are still in our apartment. I've been trying desperately to find a new apartment, but I either get denied for income or credit. We are all so frustrated and tired of living in limbo. I applied for another apartment today, so keep your fingers crossed. 

The funny thing is, I am surprisingly upbeat. While my circumstances aren't great, I remain hopeful and positive that everything will work out for the better. I believe that God has tested me and is looking at my faith in Him. Whenever I get a little blue, I pray. I know that God loves me and is by my side always. I suppose that's why I'm happy now.  

Peace Joy Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: I Don't Want to Thanks

     

I wish I could say that I was doing exciting things, but the fact is, I'm not. A kind of boredom has crept into my life that is not unfamiliar. It's one of the symptoms of depression. Loss of interest and lack of motivation are plaguing me right now. I have things to do. I just don't feel like it. This of course, causes people to think that I am just lazy. I was starting to think that about myself, but it's not true. 

I start each day at 7:30 am when my alarm goes off. On Mondays and Wednesdays, I take Kyber to doggy daycare. After that, I have breakfast. Sometimes it's good and healthy, sometimes it's crap like I had this morning. I make my bed, take a shower (not today) and get dressed for my day. I try to look good everyday by fixing my hair and putting on a cute outfit, but lately, I just  don't seem to give a rat's ass. Today, it's a t-shirt and pajama pants. 

I did paint my nails and gave myself a facial, so I'm not a total mess. I had to make the bed today, otherwise I would have climbed back in and slept the day away like I did yesterday. It was April's birthday yesterday. I got her an official Eagles jersey. She loved it. Didn't get a hug though. I think my sister hates being touch in an affectionate manner. But that's her issue not mine. 

As far as things I can do with myself, I can always clean or write another chapter in my book. I have a scrapbook of my aunt to finish. I can clean out my closet and give some clothes to the Good Will. I have muffins I could bake for tomorrow's breakfast. I could read, pray or take a way. I just don't have any motivation to do any of those things. My concentration is so bad, I can't even watch TV. Not that there's much on anyway. 

Here's something that has me perplexed. My brother cut me off last month, right. How about he sent me $75 twice. I haven't spoken to him since that infamous email, but he sent me money. Isn't that wild? 

I've a few job interviews, but nothings happening. There is a job I would like a pharmaceutical company that starts in September. I applied for it through a headhunter. I'm hoping I get it. Pay starts at $20/hour. Otherwise, it's back to Delta Dental for me. I do not want to go back, but I may have to as rent must be paid. 

I'm filing for bankruptcy this week. I have over $20K in debt I have to pay off. I spend more that I make. Oh well, I don't really care anymore. But then again, I could win the billion dollar Mega Millions tomorrow. Wouldn't that be a dream come true? I'd still have problems, but money wouldn't be one. I'd pay off all our bills, and then disappear for a year. Maybe we'll move to Wyoming. Hmm. I could start my store Stuff-n-Things, Erica could open her comic book shop, and I could start my fund for pets in need of medical care. 

I'm not giving my family money, except for Jerald to pay back the car loan, and the rent he's paid for us. Otherwise that's it. I'm going to by a storybook cottage for myself and get a new Rogue. Finally, I'll be able to get a dog and another cat. Hmm, it's nice to think about anyway. 

That's all for now. Peace, Joy, Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Unquiet Mind

 

My brain has been spinning out of control for 3 weeks. I've have experienced racing thoughts, irritability, and suicidal ideations continuously. Fortunately, the suicidal ideations and thoughts of self harm have stopped for the time being. Also, I am not paranoid or experiencing hallucinations or delusions. I'm just here in a desperate attempt to keep my mind occupied.

Why am I spinning? I don't know. But, my thoughts don't always go around. Sometimes, they go laterally or horizontally. I'm travelling through time in my thoughts. I have vivid dreams of my family members running in all directions. I can see them, but they can't see me. I can hear them, but they can't hear me. I'm trying to figure out if I am actually still a member of this family or if I have finally been left behind. 

The other night, I had a dream about my mom. She was on her death bed and I was saying goodbye. It ended tenderly, but I woke up talking to her. I didn't feel her when I woke up. I have not felt her by my side for quite some time. 

I have also been dreaming about my past holidays. Joyous occasions where everyone is gathered, laughing and talking, exchanging gifts. I stand there watching, but there are no gifts for me. I am a shade watching the activities, like Scrooge. 

I don't want to be a shade. But that's exactly what reality would be if I did succeed in my suicide attempt. Maybe that is how my eternity would be spent, my own version of hell. I would be surrounded by family only to them I don't exist. 

Does it make me regret it? I honestly can't say yes. Those last days of April were not to long ago, yet it seems life a lifetime ago. I guess it was my old life. My new life is spent keeping a gratitude journal, writing my book, and writing letters. Writing, always writing. I exercise my brain this way, I want to keep it sharp and prepared. Prepared for what? I don't know. I've always thought I was a good conversationalist once I get past my social anxiety. I've been trying to push past that. The truth is I like to talk. It's just that I'm not one to talk for hours on end about the mundane. 

I've been trying to read more as well as write. My concentration, however, has been damaged and my memory as well. I can watch maybe 20 minutes of a TV program or movie. I can only sit still when I write. I can remember what I did yesterday, but not what I did or said 3 days ago. Part of it's the damage done by ECT all those years ago. Some is just the course of the disease. It may also have something to do with the medications I'm on right now. I would like to see an MRI of my brain just to see which parts are lit up when I feel good as opposed to depressed. 

I meditated today for about 45 minutes. It was very nice, but as soon as I was done, my brain was looking for something else to do. So, hence this blog entry. The unquiet mind is a terrible thing. I will continue to try and find peace for the rest of today. 

Peace, Joy, Love - B   

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Banished

 

The text call at 3:22pm today. It was my brother. He has cut me out of his life. 

i was told to get a job, any job

I wasn't allowed to have this illness anymore. 

I'm supposed to get over myself and take care of things on my own 

Mom and Dad are dead and he refuses to help me anymore

if I keep having trouble living then I should go to a permanent living facility.

he accused me of killing them by draining them

apparently if you are unable to work you are a drain on society

So here I am trying to process this information. Right now I am just stunned by this development.

It will probably hit me later on, maybe around his birthday. I'm constantly numb. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl : A Day in the Life

    

I am hating myself today. It's been going on for a few days now. This feeling of mediocracy and uselessness. I've been avoiding myself. I've been ignoring the phone. I spend my mornings in bed watching TV. I get up around 2 pm to shower and make my bed so it looks like I've done something. I have no drive. I feel like crying all the time. So, this is what my depression feels like. It looks like messy hair, an unwashed body and tooth crud. Why does this keep happening? Why can't I be a regular person who has a bad day and can go on living? Why does my world stop with one sad mood? 

I've come to accept the fact that I am not regular. I do not have regular moods or regular days. For those who have the regular or normal emotional states, it's a matter of some positive affirmations or shrugging off a feeling. For me, not so simple. Positive affirmations don't work for me so much. Sure, I know I am worthy of love and a good life. I've never doubted that. It's just that I have a hard time seeing it in the distance. 

I called my therapist yesterday, and we had a good session. A lightbulb did flash over my head. I've said many times that I hate my job. But, the truth is, I would hate any type of job because all I want to do is be creative. I want to act and I want to write. I have given myself until the end of August to complete my plan of finding a relatively easy job that will allow me to pursue my acting career. I am going to search for open auditions and try to pursue stage acting and rejoin Actor's Access so I can submit for background and day actor jobs. There's my task for today. Search for open auditions. It will be a little tough without headshots, but I don't care. Who knows, I may be discovered. 

I should cry today. I feel it building up. I should let it out and just get it over with. I also should take a shower and wash my hair, but quite frankly, I don't want to. I'll spend a little time trying to do my search, then I don't know. I don't have any food, so I guess I can't eat today. Oh well. I'm tired now. 

Maybe I'll go through my workbooks  from all my hospital stays. Yippee. 

Peace, Joy, Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Family Way

 

Something is happening with my family. It seems they notice me. I mean they know I'm alive. I'm not just some haunted figure floating in the background of their conversations. I, it seems, have something to say, and they want to hear it. I know that to some it may seem like this is what I wanted all along, but it's not. I have never lacked attention from my family until recent years with my sister. I did at times feel unheard by the world, but never by my family. They've all been a phone call away. 

I suppose this new revelation has come about because I am finally speaking up. I'm doing more things with April and Erica because I make myself present. I approach them with conversations and participate in some of the things they do. I think because I ask them, they are now more open to the idea of me coming along. I'm no longer an albatross around their necks. I am getting help for my illness and it is starting to show. 

I had 2 conversations with relatives today. The first was with my beloved Aunt Gloria. I was sitting on the couch falling into a depressed mood, when I suddenly thought of her. It's been a week since I talked to her, so I called just to hear a friendly voice and an encouraging word. She never disappoints. We talked for about 20 minutes. I relax when I hear her voice. It's like a tonic. It reminds me of my parents. They, too, were always glad to hear from me. The second call was a return call to my Uncle Dave. I don't hear from him too often, but he wanted to see how I was doing. At first, we talked about him and his health journey and his retirement. But then, the topic came around to me. He had read my posts and wanted to talk to me about it. At first, I was a bit hesitant. But then, I thought "why not?" 

So we talked about me and my grief over my parents and my subsequent suicide attempt. He was a little taken aback, but he was okay with it. I am really transparent when it comes to talking about my illness. I figure it removes the stigma and it tends to make other people feel more comfortable when they see that I'm not embarrassed. 

We had a nice conversation about life and God. I need to to lay down my burdens and stop carrying the responsibility for the world on my shoulders. He told me I am not supposed to follow the word of God but to live it. For it is through God's grace and mercy that we are here. Jesus paid for my sin already, so I need to put down my burdens, confess and acknowledge my sins and then ask for forgiveness. He reminded me that we are supposed to live in the spirit not in the flesh. I've been so busy trying to be perfect in the flesh, that it's no wonder I get so tired. So, I'm laying it all at God's feet. I give up the flesh and will live in the spirit of God. Maybe then I can finally get some rest. 

I suppose, if I stop and think about it, that's what my family has been trying to tell me my whole life. Do not live for yourself but live through Christ. That is why He died for us. I know all this really, but like most things I know when it comes to my emotions, I have a hard time translating what my head knows to what my heart believes. I think I'll stop being a scientist all the time and become a more spiritual person.   

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Starting Over

 

I am now 57 years old. I will be 58 years old in 45 days. Let's face it, I'm in the last chapters of my life. It occurred to me today, that this is my last shot to live the life I want. I have to change things now, if I want to enjoy these years, my twilight years. 

As I have stated before, I hate my job, so I'm seeking a new job. I also previously stated that I am an actor. No one's heard of me, and I haven't been in anything of note other than a few background jobs. But, this I do know. I am a good actor. I have it in me to do something great. Do I dream of working with some big names? Yes! Do I think of winning awards? Absolutely! However, I know I face some obstacles. But, if I apply myself, I know I can do it. 

So, there you go. That's my goal and dream. But what do I do in the meantime? Do I quit my job thereby taking a huge leap faith? My previous thought process tells me, No No Hell No! But it my present mind, I want to place my faith in God, because I believe that that is the path on which He is leading me. Faith is something I have always had in short supply. But, my conversations with Him have become more frequent. He does know my deepest desires and I must, if I call myself a true believer, follow my calling. 

How did I come to realize this? Well, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I went to confession on Friday. I confessed my sins, especially my suicide attempt. When I was done, I felt free. I felt closer to Him than I've ever felt in my life. I want to worship. I want to be a testament to God's mercy and grace. After all, I should have died. But, I forgot that suicide was a grave sin and my eternity would have been exceedingly unpleasant. I wouldn't have seen my parents as I wanted to do. In fact, I would have spent a great deal of time in Hell repenting my sin. That thought didn't occur to me when I took the pills. It is quite the deterrent now. 

So, I have decided instead of changing my existing life. I am going to start over. I am going to study acting in earnest. There are some books on Amazon that I want to order. Now that I have a top of the line phone, I can tape my auditions well. Also, I will be more mindful of myself. I am no longer going to be a people pleaser. I give myself the permission to say no if I want. That's a difference, a big difference. Additionally, I'm no longer going to focus on work so much. I'm just looking for a job with a decent paycheck and decent benefits. I had thought I was going to retire at Delta Dental, but no more. 

It's been difficult to separate my time at work and my time at home since I work from home. But, I am now ready to leave the house and get out in the world. Starting over means I will no longer look back at things I haven't done or not completed. I don't want a college degree anymore. I mean, I have my associates, but I no longer think I'm a failure for not having a bachelor's. I've met too many people that don't use it or found it worthless in the long run. 

Another big change is that I no longer feel the need of having a man. It just doesn't appeal to me right now. I met this guy the other day on Tik Tok. He seemed nice at first but said he couldn't call me on the phone because he may get in trouble on his job. WTF??? I am like, no thank you. Been there done that. Plus, he claimed he was working in Tampa. Anyway, Tampa is not that far from me if he wanted to meet, and if you can't call me on the phone, something stinks. So, I'm not going down that road. I'll just stay to myself and concentrate on my career and God. 

I'm still writing my book. I've got 5 chapters and 39 pages. I think it flows quite well. I don't make story notes or map it out. I just write off the top of my head according to how the story tells itself. I've been told many times that I am a good writer, so I'll see how it turns out if I ever get it finished. 

Starting over is difficult, but it's something I have to do. I have to put my trauma, my painful memories behind me and move on from my grief. But, if nothing else, it turns out I am a fighter. I never wanted to be, trust me. I get so exhausted from picking up the pieces. But I do, and I manage to put myself back together. So, here's to me, a new woman? No, just a smarter one. 

Peace Joy Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

 

There's a song by the Bee Gees with the above title. How can you mend a broken heart? It's a good question. One that I think deserves an answer. How do you heal from grief? I don't think you can. It's just something that you carry with you. It's like a stone in your chest. Sometimes it's small, other times it grows so heavy that you can't breath. 

It was one of those days for me. I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream about my parents. We were in our old house on Knight Road. My parents were happily together. My brother and sister were putting up decorations and my mom was in the kitchen cooking. My dad was outside cleaning up the yard. I was there too. However, no one could see me. Every time I called out to them, no one answered. They were all happy and laughing and talking, but I wasn't included. Slowly, it dawned on me that I was a shade. It was if I had never been. It was a happy family of four. 

I woke up at 4:30 am wondering where I was, who I was. I realized that I was in my room in Georgia. My parents gone, and there was no happy family. So, I got up and went to the bathroom. Then I went and smoked a cigarette on the porch, trying to figure out what the dream meant. I went back to bed and fell asleep. I had two hours before my alarm went off at 6:30. 

The dream I fell into is familiar. I am standing in a wood while a fierce hurricane swirled around me. I saw the faces of my family. Again and again, I called out to them, but no one could hear me. I could hear my mom calling for me, but could not go to her. The winds were so fast. So, I stood there, screaming. I woke up with a powerful headache trying to decide if I wanted to get out of bed. Eventually, I did because I had to take the dog to day care. But the rest of the day I was disconnected and sad. Then the song came on in our processing group. Not the Bee Gees song, but another song that someone chose as there goodbye to the group song. It made me think of my parents and I started to cry. 

The lyrics were powerful. I felt a surge of grief rush upon me, and I wept. God, I want my mom. I want my dad. I'm still not okay. I've come a way, but I don't think it's been long enough. How long will it be before I stop hurting? When will my broken heart mend? I'm tired of hearing that think of happy memories, I do. I'm sick of people who say they understand. No you don't! This is MY pain, my grief, my pain, my heart! 

I think being bipolar amplifies one's emotions to a higher level of feeling. We don't just get angry, we rage inside. We don't just get happy, we become overly happy to the point of mania at times. Sadness runs deep cutting us apart inside. I have put the pieces back together so many times, I don't know if I can mend my heart again. It's just too hard. Who'll show me how? I suppose I must lay it at God's feet and let Him take over. Today, I am tired. I need to rest. I need to learn how to just be. Problem is I never learned how to just be. Adulting sucks. I want to climb into bed with my parents again as a little girl. I felt safe there. I was young and my heart whole. I can't make it whole again on my own. It's too difficult. I don't know how to mend a broken heart. Who'll show me how? 

Peace, Joy, Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Connections

 

We make a lot of connections in our lives. I know I have. I've met all kinds of people. Some of them good, some of them confused, and some just plain old creepy. It's not just the men either. I've met some women that gave off bad juju too. 

But what of those connections that stick? You know the ones that have become friendships. How do you keep it going and how do you not lose touch? That's been a problem of mine for sometime. I have made great friends, but the most important I lost in the shuffle. It wasn't their fault. It was mine. I stopped talking. I shut down completely because I didn't want anyone to see the ugly world in my head. 

I lost my very best friend in my 20's. Her name was Pam. I was going through a bad depressive episode and completely cut her off. We are now just Facebook friends having rediscovered each other. We will never be close again which is regrettable because I miss her terribly. I wasn't there when she needed me. I had run away. 

In my 30's, I was in vet tech school and met Eileen, Stephanie, Marge and Rachel. I really loved them. The only one I talk to now is Eileen. In fact, after a year of letters and the occasional text messages, I just got off the phone with her this afternoon. We spoke for a good 40 minutes. She married her longtime boyfriend several years ago and they have 2 fabulous kids. Stephanie died of a drug overdose a few years ago. I think about her often. Rachel is married with at least 1 child, but I haven't heard from her in 2 years or so. Marge is a bit older  than me. We got along great. But, my disease scares her, so I can't really talk to her much. She did send me a nice message on Facebook when I got home a few weeks ago. 

I have no friends locally. As I said before, COVID did some serious damage to my social skills. I stay at home most of the time. I try to be friendly when I'm out but it's kind of hard to be sociable when you have nothing to say. Guys will want to know why you don't have any girlfriends. Some guys like it that way so they can use you and you have no one to talk to about things. They prey on women like me. So, I don't talk to guys very much. I don't trust them much anyway. I am trying to change that behavior so I don't shoo away Mr. Right, if he ever comes around. 

Human beings are social creatures. We need each other or else we'll go mad from loneliness. I've come to learn that I am hungry for interaction. I would love to have a trusted girlfriend to talk to every day, and meet up on the weekends. I guess you could say I'm looking for my best friend, my ride or die friend. 

I even tried going into the office to meet people, but surprise, nearly everyone works at home. There were only about 6 people on our half of the floor. I don't know if I'll go back in right away. I'd like to work from home a little bit more at first. That's if I have a job. I'm not too concerned. I suppose I should be, but there you go. 

The point is, I'm reaching out. So far  the response has been good. I will be keeping in touch with my friends from now on. I'm intent on making some connections with someone. I'm a nice person, I'm kind and considerate. I'm a loyal friend. At least, I try to be. We'll see how it works out going forward. 

Until next time, Peace Joy Love- B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Fractured Fairytales

 

I've been thinking a lot lately about my future. Where am I going? What am I going to do? What do I want? I think children have been getting shafted for decades, especially girls. We are taught to put up with bullshit. We are told that if we wish and hope some handsome man will ride up in his white limo and rescue us from our drudgery. That is a load of shit. 

The truth is there's no fairy godmother, no magic, no bippity bobbity fucking boop! It's taken 40 years, but I've come to realize that I'm on my own. Sure, I still dream, but it's just that a fantasy. I don't really expect it to come true. There is no brave, handsome stranger to come rescue my from my demons. I need to rescue myself. But, let's face it, that shit is hard. Hence my 6 suicide attempts. I'm tired of falling on my face on to concrete. I'm battered, bruised and extremely exhausted. I'm also a little angry. Ok, I'm a lot angry. 

There are times I look at people out in the world and wonder why they seem to have it together and I don't. I know I'm not supposed to compare myself to anyone else, but it's pretty much impossible when every other commercial is telling you to dye your hair, extend your eyelashes, and have wrinkle free skin. Try this product and you'll have clear glowing skin! Make your hair shinier! Lose those unwanted pounds in 30 days! There are good arguments to take care of your skin, hair and lose weight, but all those commercials tell you that you will be a better person if you use their products. You'll get a handsome, rich husband, and you'll live in the perfect small town in a million dollar home. Your kids will be perfect, and you'll be thrilled every time your dishes are sparkling clean. 

I will admit, I am a little happier when my house is clean. It's not  because of the joy of cleaning. It's because I am a person that needs some control over the external chaos from the world. If things are tidy and in their place, I can relax and not feel so hectic inside. Where is my Prince Charming when I need to take the trash out or fix my car? Nope, I have to lug my garbage to the dumpster, and rely on some stranger to fix my car without ripping me off. 

You know, I've thought about it, and I don't want the prince. I want the guy who keeps his limo running smoothly. A man who knows what a fuel injector is and how to maintain it. I'd even take the gardener that keeps his gardens looking beautiful. In short, I'd like a blue color guy. You know like a butcher or chef, a mechanic like my dad. But lo, most women want a guy who makes the big bucks and has to work 70 hours a week. Where's the fun in that? You never see him. There's always an emergency and he has to cancel plans with his family at the last minute. 

Don't get me wrong, I'd like a guy to have money. I like nice things as much as the next girl, but I'd like to see my man on a regular basis. I'd like to see him home with me at night. We could have fun just sitting at home on the couch watching a movie. I don't need to jet to Greece for the weekend. I'm a pretty simple girl. Some words of affirmation, affection and I'm good to go. Throw in a few gifts once in a while, and I'm ecstatic. 

Why did those stories get written anyway? I suppose because women were only good for housekeeping and having babies. It was to make poor women feel like they had a chance for better life, which could be accomplished with a well made match. Fuck that! I wish somebody would tell me I had to marry some jerk just to expand the family prospects. Well, that's all a moot point as I am a spinster. I may get married one day, but I'm not going to hold my breath. '

If you take a look at fairytales, they were kind of stupid. Snow White got poisoned and died before her prince came and kissed her awake. She had never met the man, and all of a sudden she's riding off to his castle in the sky. How do we know his intentions were good? Maybe he was a serial killer. Don't get me started on Cinderella. All that girl wanted to do was go to a party, and she's stalked by some dude who didn't even know her name. It all came down to who's foot fit the slipper. You're telling me, no one else wore her size? What a load of crap!

One of the most recurring themes in most fairytales, especially in Disney films, is the tragic death of a parent. The child is then left to grief and subject to abuse by a caregiver. Then, when the villains get their comeuppance, the hero/heroine forgives them. I suppose that's the healthy thing to do. Forgiveness does help one move on, but I'd give them a taste of their own medicine first. Then banish them from my kingdom. 

My life has been nowhere near a fairytale. My innocence was stolen from me. I had to stop believing in them. My soul was fractured into so many pieces, it looks like some sort of ugly quilt. Do I regret it? In a way no, because I am who I am because of my circumstances. But then, I think of what might have been if my life hadn't been turned asunder, my brain chemistry and cognitive functions altered. 

Now, I face the difficult task of reprogramming my brain and erasing 57 years of warped thinking. I have to constantly remind myself that I am okay. I'm a good person with value. I look in the mirror, and don't see a princess. I don't see the monster I used to see either. However, if I concentrate very hard, I can imagine a crown. The crown of a queen. 

Peace, Love, Joy - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Let it Be

 

Yesterday was my first day of IOP (intensive outpatient therapy). It was good, but I was so exhausted that I could barely drive home. I've been used to getting up at 6:30 am for several weeks now. But yesterday, it was harder than hell. I managed to get some breakfast and make the 30 minute drive there. It's a nice hospital, clean and bright. However, a psych hospital is still a psych hospital. Everything made of plastic, and steel toilets, cameras everywhere. I don't mind, it's not like I ever do anything against the rules. I am the quintessential good girl after all. 

Today, however, I just could not do it. I called out. It's only my second day, but I felt so sick. I just needed to sleep some more. I have to get into a routine of taking my meds at 8 pm so I can fall asleep by 10. Last night I stayed up late watching TV. I guess I should only watch an hour of TV before bed, and do some meditation to wind down. In the center, I used to fall asleep by picturing a meadow by the stream with a golden sunset in the background. It was easy to do because things were pretty quiet there most of the time. But now that I'm home, I just can't seem to do it. Too much street noise. We live by a busy road, and I can hear the cars speeding by along with the occasional siren. Back to reality. 

I've been trying to get in contact with my psychiatrist, but she is off on vacation I guess. In the meantime, I am almost out of Cymbalta, and I'm not scheduled to see her until the 20th of July. I'm dumping her ass. I talked to her 2 days before my overdose, and told her I wasn't feeling good and needed a med adjustment. She told me to wait. 3 days later, I took the pills. I'm going to look up a new doctor on Headway today. see if I can get a appointment for this weekend. 

My short term disability hasn't been approved yet. They need additional information. I also need to get an extension I think. I had requested time off until the 28th of June, but that's only 2 weeks away. Maybe I ought to resign and look for another job. I don't know what to do. I have a lot of things to decide. I'm thinking about declaring bankruptcy. I have about 15k in debt that I have no chance of paying off. Maybe, if they don't fire me, I'll stay with Delta Dental. It's a great company, I'm just not a contributing employee. 

I'm going to confession this evening, I hope. I haven't been to confession since November. I have to confess my suicide attempt. There are other things like masturbation, missing mass, and cursing, also those stupid affairs I had. Speaking of which, some dickhead texted me, "Hello beautiful, let's do lunch." I have no idea who it is. I didn't answer. Then someone else wanted to know if I could come over. I had no clue and ignored that one too. I guess I'm just going to hold out for someone real. Men are basically stupid. There are some good ones that know who they are and what they want, but they are not easy to find. But like I said, having a man is not a priority. 

My family is pretty much the same. April and Erica really don't talk to me much. They haven't asked me anything about the treatment center or how I feel. They did ask if I wanted to go to the movies with them tomorrow. I said I'd think about it, but I'm going to go. I have to start doing things with them if they ask me. If I refuse, I think it will reflect badly on me.  

Well,  I  guess that's it for today. I feel better. I took a nice shower with my fragrant body wash and moisturized with my cherry blossom lotion. I smell quite nice. I also remembered to brush my teeth. I changed the linen on my bed and put fresh towels in my bathroom. I'm going to start auditioning for some roles since I have a little time off. It would be nice to get some more validation in my acting pursuits. 

In the meantime, que sera, sera. I'll just go with the flow. Let it Be. 

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Great Nothing (repost of 4/30/2023)

 

Today is the Last day of April. A month of emotional upheaval s great that I just wanted to sleep. So I did. I abused my medication to the point of sleeping for 3 days straight. I didn't eat. The only time I got up was to pee a few times. My sleep time was quite nice actually. Although I did have one dream when I was breaking out in maggots. However, I suppose that was a reference to the death I was experience. I didn't take a whole bunch of pills at one time because I didn't want to throw up. 

Did anything happen to cause all  this. Nope. Just the sheer panic about going to work and trying to put a big fat smile on my face and coming up with enough desire to give a fuck. I stopped caring. About my self, about my family and about my cat even. Zelda has remained glued to my side throughout all of this, but I've had to kick her off  the bed a few times. 

I'm supposed to go to work tomorrow like everything's ok, but it's not okay. I'd rather drive my car into a brick wall than go back to work. I'm not going back inpatient. Again, brick wall. My so call family doesn't give a shit. Has anyone asked me if I'm okay, gotten me something to eat? Nope. They just ignore me as if I'm not here. So I guess I shouldn't be here 

 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Finding Harmony

                                    

 In psychology, harmony refers to a positive state of inner peace, calmness, and balance, as well as the feeling of being in tune with the world.

My journey seeking harmony began on April 25th. I started spiraling downward at a frightening pace. I couldn't sleep at first, then slept all the time. I didn't eat or bathe. I didn't take care of myself at all. I was just a dirty lump of a woman curled up in my covers sleeping the days away. I kept think of my mom and dad, and how much I wanted to be with them. I was tired of trying to live a successful life. I had reached the end on the line. In most other depressions, I would see at least the tiniest speck of light. I would hear my mother's voice in the darkness calling me back from the brink. This time I heard nothing. I saw nothing. I was dead inside, so I thought I'd might as well be dead for real. 

I took the pills with the intention of sleeping and not waking up for a while. If it turned out I didn't wake up, then so be it. It was an off the wall attempt at suicide, but an attempt nonetheless I must confess. Truth is, I like sleeping out of all human activities. I can put my head down into my pillow and pull the covers up and feel safe from the world. The world has always been a harsh place for me, and I was exhausted trying to manage life on my own. All the stress, chaos and my job, which I now admit I hate made me so incredibly tired that I couldn't even hold my head up at times. At the end, I couldn't hold it up at all. So, I tried to end all the pain, shame, guilt and agonizing longing with 16 sleeping pills and sixteen sedatives. Had I taken them all at once, I'd surely be dead, but I took them over a 12 hour period, so I wouldn't throw up. 

Finally, I decided a few days after surviving that I needed help. I called a place called Harmony Hills in Florida. I told them my story, and they told me to go to my local emergency room. So, I did. I went to the emergency room and told them what I did. An overnight stay, and 15 vials of blood later, I was medically cleared to go inpatient, but the sent me to a local psych ward because I was considered a danger to myself. I didn't mind, the hospital was nice and clean, plus I got a room to myself. I was there for 9 days, from May 3rd to May 12th. I was discharged to my home. Once I got there, I called Florida again, and they booked me a flight for the 16th. 

I was in Harmony hills from May 16th to June 12th, in all 27 days. I am glad I went. My head was still so screwed up when I got there, and my depression was still deep. The only thing they ask is that you follow some easy rules, go  to groups and participate. At first, I didn't take part much, but gradually I found my voice. It had been almost nonexistent. The question I went there with and asked myself every morning was "Do you want to die?"

I'll admit now, that the first couple of weeks, I answered "yes". I did still want to die. But gradually, as I learned about myself, I became unsure and finally became "no, I don't want to die". Problem was, I wasn't sure how to live. I am still trying to find my purpose. I did keep a detailed journal of my feelings every day of my stay. I wrote my future self a letter. One of our groups was about our dreams and aspirations that we want to accomplish in 10 years. 

I said that I wanted to be a successful, working actress. That is my goal. It's the only thing I want to do. I decided to place all my energies into making that dream come true. Of course, I know I have other goals as well. I'd like to get on my feet financially. I'd like to get involved with some groups where I can make some friends. I'd like to have a significant other, but that goal is not a requirement. lol. 

Have I achieved harmony? Not yet, but I believe I have laid the foundation. I start my IOP tomorrow. It runs 7 days a week from 9-12 pm. I hope I get something out of it. I will keep my head up, and pay attention to the signs. I will be okay. I will be well. One second, one minute, one hour, one day at a time. Peace, Joy, Love -B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Unending Waves

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. She would have been 83 years old.

This year her birthday hit me really hard. My heart feels like it’s in a

thousand pieces. It’s weird because last year I was fine. The worst thing

about grief is that it’s always there and can strike out of the blue no matter

how long it’s been. 

I’ve been home from work for the past 2 days sleeping and crying.

Today, I made sure I got some protein in me and some carbs on board and

went on a long walk. I checked my pedometer when I got home and it turns

out I walk 2 miles. It felt pretty good. My anxiety went down a bit. My chest

isn’t tight anymore. Yesterday, I was thinking of going to the hospital, but I

knew it was just a panic attack. 

I got a new-to-me car. It’s an indigo blue 2010 Nissan Rogue. It’s gotta power sunroof, leather seats, seat warmers, and a Bose stereo system. The only thing it doesn’t have is Sirius XM. But that’s okay. My niece told me what to get so I can get the music from my iPhone to play in my car. Right now, I’m bouncing between 4 stations on the radio. None of them are very good, but I have to have music in the car. 

My brother bought it for me. The Camaro payments were kicking my butt,

and I fell behind. So, I’m doing a voluntary repossession. It will hit my

credit, but my credit already sucks because of my illness and falling behind

on everything. I finally have a budget as my brother, Jerald, demanded I

put a budget together. I am paying him back for the car. If I can just

manage my thoughts as well. I’m having intrusive thoughts again. I think I

hate my job. The mornings aren’t so bad, but by the afternoon, I really

couldn’t care less. Of course, in my present state of mind, I don’t know how

accurate my feelings are. Having bipolar is such a pain in the ass. When I’m in

a good mood, I have to question if it’s mania, and when I feel sad I analyze

it to death. I never know if I’m feeling real feelings or is my mind playing

tricks on me?

My therapists over the years have given me plenty of tools to help me

manage my feelings, but when I’m experiencing something, I’m not really in

the frame of mind to help myself. That’s why most of the time I either sleep

or become a super housekeeper. The past 2 days, I haven’t cared if the

house is messy. 

I am putting myself on a diet, so to speak. I need to lose 20-25 pounds and

start eating healthy foods again. I’ve been snacking a lot,

especially on candy. I’ve been craving it like crazy. My glucose has been

under control, in fact it’s dropped below 70 several times. I have to send a

message to my endocrinologist. I see my regular doctor on Saturday. I’m out

of some of my meds, and need to have blood work done.

I'm thinking of making scones this weekend. One of my pen pals, who is a

cook, sent it to me. I wonder if you can make scones with almond flour.

Now that Erica found out she is allergic to almost everything, I'm limited

in what I can bake. I would love to make mom's lemon meringue pie, but again,

what kind of crust to use. Maybe I can find a gluten free crust recipe.

My sister will be home soon and will give me the look of disdain she always

gives me when I'm depressed. She still doesn't get it. She will ask me if I

called my therapist. When in fact I called 988, the crisis line because I was

seriously thinking of taking some pills. Earlier today, when I was crying, my

mind kept telling me I was too tired to keep going through this, and I wanted

to be with my mom. So, I thought about my sleeping pills, my sedatives, etc.

I thought I could just take a bunch and fall asleep. but, I didn't and

boohooed all over the crisis person. I thought maybe I should go to the

hospital, but I can't afford to be out of work again, plus, I knew it was just

a momentary feeling.

Bipolar is an unending wave of feelings, some good, some bad, some

dangerous. I suppose the key is to stay aware of how I'm feeling. But quite

frankly, I don't want to keep track anymore. I am tired. But I suppose I

have no choice. If I want to stay alive, I need to keep my head above water.

Ugh!!

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Back to Reality

 

Tuesday 12:13 pm

Well, I was supposed to go back to work today. My leave was up on Monday, yesterday. But, there's still a delay with it. Seems I should have called the job on Friday to arrange for my return. They have to put me back on active status and then get me access to the systems. 

I don't want to go back to a regular job. I want to be a working actress. These past 3 months have given me a chance to flex my creative muscles. I'm not really sure how things will work out. I don't mind the job so much, it's just that I don't think I'm meant to work a regular 9-5. 

Saturday 12:32 pm 

Well, I'm still not back at work. I got a call from HR about some questions they had regarding special accommodations. I am supposed to go back at full capacity. The lady from HR said my supervisor would reach out to me regarding my start date, but so far I haven't heard anything. I really don't care at this point. The only problem is, I got my last disability check, so if I don't start working, I won't have any money coming in other than my social security money. 

I start my acting classes tomorrow. It's formal training, so it should be a lot of fun and a lot of knowledge I can pick up. I'm going to start searching for monologues to perform for my demo reel. I have one already that I did with Bruce that I think is particularly good. I like it and I'm good in it. 

The classes are $214 per month, which is a lot for me, but I don't care. I will pay it and I will do well. I've always been a good student. 

My episode of Will Trent is on next Tuesday. We have it set up to record, and will be watching. I hope none of my scenes are cut. I'm very excited about appearing on film. Since I've started acting, a lot of people have told me that I am very attractive. What a boost to my ego!!! As someone who spent most of her life thinking she was an ugly monster, it means a lot to hear that it's not the case. I'm finally believing that I am very pretty. 

I think the hardest part of going back to work is that I can't spend as much time with the animals that I used to do. Having cuddle time with Kyber and the Z-pack has become a very pleasant routine for me. It helps me relax during the day. Believe it or not, I really miss Ky when he's not around. I miss talking to him and taking him for his afternoon walks. He's back at doggy daycare now since his shots are now all up to date. Zelda will be very frustrated, since she has gotten used to having my attention. She won't understand that she not allowed up on my desk again. 

Tomorrow is also the 3rd anniversary of my mom's death. I think about her everyday, but not like I used to do. I mean, she's more like a fleeting thought now. I don't feel overwhelming sadness when I think of her. It's more like, oh well, she's not here anymore. I suppose that's not a good thing. I don't want to forget anything about her. I look a lot like her now that I'm getting older. That's especially true with my hair down and makeup on. 

I don't think I'll do anything particularly special tomorrow to commemorate the occasion. Since I have class tomorrow from 10 am to 1 pm, there's not a whole lot of time I can think about it. Plus, if the weather is warmer, I'm going to do some planting for our patio garden. I bought some tomato seeds and morning glory seeds. Erica bought some other seeds, so maybe we'll spend some time together in the sun. 

April has been home all week with a bad chest cold. She finally went to the doctor yesterday and they prescribed antibiotics. She supposed to go back to work on Monday. It was kind of weird having her here all week. It wasn't a bad thing, it's just that she doesn't stay home unless she's really sick. Not like me. I get a cough and sneeze, I'm not working. 

I had my annual exam at the gynecologist last week. Everything came out fine. I have my screening smashogram on the 29th of March. I hate getting mammograms. They hurt. If guys knew what we women have to go through, I think they'd be a little more sympathetic. 

Speaking of guys, Lawrence was supposed to call last week to set up a brunch date. He never called. He texted me the other day, but I didn't answer. I'm done. If you like me like you say you do, you should put forth more effort. While I appreciate the compliments, actions speak louder than words. Although affirmations are one of my love languages, so is physical touch. I can't and won't have a phone relationship. So, I've given up on dating for the 1000th time. If I meet someone, then great. If not, ok. 

I have to change my cartridge in my insulin pump, and get new tubing and figure out where I'm going to place it on my body. It's a great device, but kind of a pain in the ass to change the site every 3 days. Oh well, guess I better get to it. 

Peace, Joy, Love -B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Bull by the Horns

 

It's been a while. It's not like nothing is happening. Plenty of things are happening. I've just been too lazy to write. 

I'll be going back to work next week. I'm sort of looking forward to it. I've been out of work for 3 months now, and it's starting to get on my nerves. Plus, I need the money. I'm so behind on all my bills. My hospital bills have gone to collections. I still haven't paid off PNC from a year ago. Part of me is like, fuck it. But the other part of me feels guilty, so I'll be a good girl and pay them off. My car was close to being repossessed again. I really need to give up Shakira, but that car is just so cool, and no one around here has one. She's distinctive and I look damn good in her. Oh well. Common sense says to trade her in for a small SUV that takes regular gas. Shakira takes premium.

I've gotten a couple of acting jobs. The latest one being a background part in aa movie called "The Player". I play a juror in a capital murder trial. I got a lot of screen time. My episode of "Will Trent" will be on in 3 weeks. I'm very excited about that. I hope they didn't cut too much. I've signed with a talent agency called XXI Century Entertainment. I'm in their artist development program. At the end of it, I'll have a complete resume, head shots, and a professional demo reel. It's expensive, but I don't care. I really like acting. It let's me be creative, and I don't feel like I'm working. 

We almost got evicted. It's my fault as usual. Being in the hospital and out of work put a real strain on us. My short term disability on got approved last week. Now, I'm waiting on a benefit check of about $3400. I'll be able to pay rent again and catch-up on my bills. I also have to get my brakes done and new rear tires. The size of tires I need ain't cheap either. It's about $200 each. 

I was hoping to get my car worked on with my tax money, but surprise, surprise, the people at the IRS restructured the tax laws, so I'm only getting $217. I got $900+ last year. So, I'm getting a new chair for my desk so my back isn't screaming at me by the middle of the day. 

Speaking of my back, I'm in physical therapy. It was finally determined that the abdominal pains I'm having are radiating from my thoracic spine. So, I have degenerative disc disease and a bunch of bone spurs. I'm trying PT to alleviate the pain. I don't know what the next step is, injections I guess. While I'm on the subject for injections, I'm having another injection in my right foot. This time on the top. I've be having some debilitating pain when I walk sometimes, and x-rays reveal that the nerve on the top of my foot is rubbing up against a bone spur. I have a lot of bone spurs because my body produces excess bone. Anyway, the doctor said he could remove the bone spur, but chances are excellent that it will just grow back. 

I met a guy on Facebook a few weeks ago named Lawrence. He seems nice, but we haven't been able to get together yet. First, we played phone tag, then when I finally talked to him, we were going to meet for breakfast, blah blah. But, he decided to work that day. So, we planned on dinner yesterday. He was supposed to call Wednesday, nothing. He texted me on Thursday, saying to give him 15 minutes and he would call me. An hour and a half later, nothing. So, I got ready for bed. Then he calls at 10:15 pm. I missed his call. I tried to call back but he didn't pick up. Needless to say, no date. I'm not sure if I should try calling him again, or what. I'm not going to chase any man. I think it's pretty clear I'm interested, but this game is stupid. Oh, Well! 

I don't mind being alone, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to and hang out with once in a while. I want to be married by the time I'm 60 yrs old. Is that too much to ask. I suppose I'll try to contact him again and take the bull by the horns, so to speak. This is the last time. After that, bye!! 

That's all for now. Peace, Joy, Love. - B