Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Reflections

 

Today is the last day of 2025. Damn, where did the year go? I remember January because it felt like it lasted for 75 days. After that, I don't remember too much until my birthday in August. I know I spent a lot of time going to the doctor. I don't remember too much else about 2025. I wonder why? 

I'm trying to think back on the year and make note of any goals I met. Unfortunately, I can't think of too much. I accomplished one big goal and that was going back to school. I completed my first semester at Georgia Southern University. I only took 2 classes, but I managed to get a B in both classes. I did this while working full-time. I also committed to my Spanish lessons. I'm still on the free plan, but I've gone 66 days straight of taking at least 1 lesson a day. I'm doing well, I think I am anyway. I am starting to think in Spanish, and dream in Spanish. I would have signed up for the super plan, but I just can't afford it right now. But, as soon as I can I will get the extended plan. 

Hmm, I made a commitment to attend Mass every week. I messed up on a big holiday. I didn't get to Mass for most of December including Christmas. I wanted to go early, but just couldn't get it together. Anyway, I'll recommit myself to attend Mass weekly for 2026. I think I'll throw in a couple of Saturday services. I did go to Mass on Ash Wednesday and Easter. I even dressed up on Easter, and bought a church hat!! I looked very cute if I may say so. I'm going to get another outfit for 2026. I wanted to get some dresses, and I found some on Amazon that I liked a lot. It's a matter of funding though. I also have to get some church shoes. Okay, basically I need to go shopping for some clothes. I haven't been shopping for a very long time. 

Oh, I made a commitment to do better at work. My attendance still sucks, and I have no PTO, but I have gotten better at my job. I'm exceeding my metrics. My adherence is ridiculous. Something like 96%. Which means that I spend most of my time in "available" and waiting in queue. I still listen to music and watch TV. I just don't get up to go smoke or go to the bathroom every hour anymore. My survey score is up also. I was getting only 12 before. I now average 13.5. I almost got 15, but I'm not complaining. My scores show my commitment to my job. I am still waiting for my level 2. Hopefully, I'll get it by March. 

I also decided to work harder on my acting career. I have a profile on Allcasting. I still have to upload a video and audio reel. Maybe I'll work on it this weekend. I need to make an introductory video about myself. Hopefully, I'll be able to pull myself together and look decent and have some privacy so I can record it. I'd get Erica to help me, but whenever I ask her anything she gets an attitude. She may be 42 soon, but she still acts like a 16 year old. She can be rather obnoxious, and sometimes I don't like her. I'm hoping to land a couple of acting jobs in 2026. My goal is to get at least 1 well-paying job. I need the money. 

Speaking of money, I don't have any. I had no success in saving money. I budget to pay bills and it works out on paper. Then, April and Erica have their hands in my wallet, and I end up not being able to pay my bills. But, I've set up payment plans, and they are supposed to come out automatically. If I could just keep my money, I'd be debt free by next year. But that's unlikely. I don't even have the rent money for tomorrow. It's going to be late again. I'm still a month behind on the electric bill. I'm paying just enough to keep my service. Well, for 2026, I am committing to my budget. As soon as I make one. I have to map everything out; who gets paid what and when. I still don't have enough money. I really need some kind of side hustle or my raise. 

I have decided that I will concentrate on my health and staying away from the doctor's office. One of the first things I'm going to do is see a dietician. I want an anti-inflammatory diet, and to lose 50 lbs. I'm currently back up to 220. I stuffed my face over the holidays. If I can lose 50 lbs, that will take me down to 170, which will be the thinnest I've ever been in my adult life. I have to start exercising. I need to do it, and I also will have to do it for my phys ed class this semester. Hopefully, I can incorporate my class requirements to a lifestyle change. I was taking Mounjuro. But, I think that is what was causing the inflammation of my joints. I haven't taken it for the past 2 weeks and I haven't had a flare-ups. I still have a little joint pain, but not like it was. 

In 2026, I'm going to take some real vacation time. I plan on going to Ohio to meet my pen pal, MJ. I'm looking at the last weekend in May. Then in the fall I'm hoping to have a family gathering in Washington DC. I'm hoping for a long weekend in September. I'm going to try and avoid any type of festivals, like the Cherry Blossoms etc. We want to see the African American History Museum at the Smithsonian. I hope I can organize it. I was looking up stuff last week, and it just made me tired. I don't know why I have to be the one to organize everything. 

I also hope to finally find somewhere to volunteer. I won't have a lot of time, since my work schedule is changing at the end of January. I'll be working from 8:15 am to 7:15 pm Monday through Thursday. I'll be off on Fridays. I just hope I can do it. Oh well, I'll just have to work it out. 

Okay, so maybe 2025 wasn't such a bust. I kept my marbles and stayed out of the hospital except for my back surgery in May. I was able to get off one of my psych meds. I just need to get my diet and diabetes under control. I'm sure it will go well. 

I have decided that 2026 is the year of Peace. I won't let anyone steal my sense of peace. I will get closer to God, work on my health, and commit to my job. Everything will fall into place. I will try to let go and let God. I will try to remove myself from worry and sadness. I will keep my heart open and let love in and let it flow from me. I will be kind and compassionate. 2026 will be a good year. 

Peace Joy Love- B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Coffee, Cigarettes and Other Bad Habits

 

So, I started smoking again. Actually, I've been smoking since October. I don't smoke much, just 5 or 6 a day. But I like it. I don't smoke everyday. I can't really afford to smoke regularly. I get my cigarettes at a little gas station in the next town over. I'm smoking Pall Mall Select menthol 100's. They cost about $5 a pack. Which is incredibly cheap. A pack of Marlboros costs about $10. I refuse to pay that much. So, I smoke the cheap stuff. 

I can stop at any time. I just don't want to. The slow drag of the cigarette is something I enjoy. It satisfies my oral fixation. I also like the rush of the nicotine to my brain. The only thing I don't like about smoking is the smell. So, I keep the fabric freshener near by. I don't know if April and Erica suspect anything. They haven't said anything. I only smoke when no one is home, and when I walk the dog. So far, it's just my dirty little secret. I kind of like it that way. 

I'm still drinking coffee, even though my psychiatrist says I should cut back. It increases my anxiety. But, I don't sleep much anymore. So, I require coffee in the morning. Lately, I've been drinking 2 cups a day. which is really not that bad. I try not to drink after 12 pm. Otherwise, sleep eludes me completely. I've had a lot of trouble with insomnia the past 2 months. I sleep maybe 4 hours. Then, I'm up around 2 or 3 am. Sometimes, I can get back to sleep, but most of the time I'm just up. Like tonight. I slept for a few hours, then I just woke up at 2. I fell asleep for another hour and half on the couch, but then I just woke up. I suppose if I try again, I could go back to sleep. But, I've just got a lot on my mind. 

Money is my biggest worry. I got paid on Friday, and am now broke. I just can't make ends meet. I'm at a loss. I applied for some part time jobs, but never heard back. I don't want to quit my job, but if I don't get my promotion soon, I'm going to have to find something else. My benefits are great, which is the main reason. 

Speaking of the job, I got a new shift starting at the end of January. I'll be working from 8:15 am to 7:15 pm, Monday through Thursday. I'll have a 3 day weekend every week. I am kind of on the fence about it. It's kind of a struggle to make it through an 8 hour day. Now, I'll have to push myself to do 10 hour days. Having Fridays off is good I guess, but we'll see. I liked those hours when I was younger. Now that I'm a cranky old lady, I don't know if it will work. 

I'm gaining weight. I guess I've gained about 10 lbs. in the past few months. My favorite oversized clothes now fit like regular clothes and my underwear is getting tight. I don't like the feeling of being bound, so most of the time, I'm uncomfortable. I hate wearing a bra. I am now at the age where comfort is the most important aspect of my wardrobe choices. I really need to exercise, but the thought of it makes me ill. I should walk everyday, but most of the time it's just a fleeting thought. I meet with the dietician next month. Hopefully, she can help me put a plan together for me. I took Mounjaro for a few weeks. I lost 4 lbs. But, I think it makes me sick. 

I've been having a lot of trouble with joint pain. It's been debilitating. I haven't had any trouble with it for about a week now. Which coincides with my not taking my shot this week. Maybe it triggers some type of auto-immune response that causes inflammation of my joints. Only my shoulders hurt now. Before, it was every joint in my body screaming at me. However, it may not be the Mounjaro. It might just be that I took about a weeks worth of prednisone, and popping naproxen everyday. I was supposed to see the doctor on the 30th, but I couldn't get the time off from work, so I had to reschedule it. 

I want to sleep with someone. Not in a sexual way, I just want to sleep with someone. I think if I could nestle in someone's arms for a while, I might actually get some rest. Of course, sex may enter the picture, but I'd have to do some work on that front. I don't get wet enough to have sex comfortably. The last time I had sex, I was bleeding for a week because my vaginal tissue is fragile. It tore. I think they make a pill for that. I don't think about sex very often anymore. I used to masturbate 3 times a week. Now, it's maybe twice a month. Sometimes, I can't even reach orgasm. Oh well, I guess I'll just be a cranky, dried up old lady with 10 cats. 

I don't have many goals for 2026. I want to get an acting job or 2. Maybe, that can be my side hustle. If I could get a part that pays a couple of thousand, I could get out from under this debt. I feel really guilty. I feel a lot of shame also. I just can't seem to get a hold of my money. I guess that should be my main goal for the year. Save money. I need to desperately, because I want to visit MJ next spring. I would also like to have a family gathering in Washington DC. That takes money. I also want to go on a church tour of Italy. I don't know if there will be one this year, but either way, I want to go. Maybe, I'll find a tour on my own. That's about $2k. I still have to get my passport. Money, money, money. Everything cost so fucking much. I can't stand it. 

Oh well, I need another cigarette. I'll be time for coffee in an hour.

Peace - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Fa La La??

 

Okay, try as I might this Christmas is going down in the books as the worst ever. There's no tree, no presents, no family, no friends, no money. It sucks. I tried to put a good spin on it, but it didn't work. So, this whole week has really been pretty bad. First off, I haven't been sleeping more than 4 hours a night. I sleep for maybe 2 hours then wake up at 2 or 3 am. Sometimes, I can get back to sleep, other times not. I can't sleep in the silence. My head takes off in all directions and I start thinking and worrying about things that make no sense and are uncontrollable. Work has been pretty ridiculous. 

I don't know why most US companies just don't close the week of Christmas. No one really cares, and I personally feel like I could be doing anything else. I mean, I would rather clean my bathroom than answer the phone on the holidays. Anyway, I did try to take off this year, but there wasn't any allowance plus I didn't have the PTO. Next year however, I am taking off the whole holiday week. I just hope I can stand to bank the PTO. 

Erica is in Jacksonville at her dad's house. I'm honestly happy for her, but let's face it. Without her here, April and I are just 2 useless old ladies. I've been going back and forth between napping and watching TV. Zelda doesn't want me to do anything. She just wants to sit on my lap. I can only do nothing for about an hour, then I have to get up and do something. I actually did some laundry. At least my bed linens are clean. 

Next year, I want to go somewhere. I want to go somewhere now. Anywhere. I am really feeling the fact that I don't have a family of my own. I have no one to spend the holidays with, no children to visit, no grandchildren to spoil. Nothing. I'm just alone. It really is bothering me. If April wasn't here, I'd really be alone. 

I didn't make it to church for most of this month. I don't know why. I just didn't get there. I'm up usually since I hardly sleep anymore. I really wish I could just sleep for eight hours uninterrupted. 

I get paid tomorrow. I also have to work tomorrow. How dumb is that? I wish I could call out, but then I wouldn't get my holiday pay. I'm short $100 this pay because of sick time. My next check should be full. Not that it matters. I have decided to se3ttle my debts this year. I set up a payment plan on my credit card accounts. All but one that is. I just need $25k and I could be debt free. I'm so tired of worrying about money. 

Well, I guess that's all for now. Merry Christmas to me. Let's make next year a year of progress. Onward to 2026. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Angels I have Heard on High

 

Well, in 6 days it will be Christmas. I'm not ready. Well, materialistically I'm not ready. My finances are such that I don't have money for presents. I sent out Christmas cards, so I guess that's about it. I didn't get gifts for April, Erica or Sean. I had hoped to make cookies for some members of the family, but my body isn't cooperating. 

I have been seized by a pain so intense as to send me back to the doctor. I had to miss work because I was in such pain. It's a deep, piercing pain in my joints. It hurts to move. I couldn't wash my hair because my shoulders hurt so bad. It hurt to hold things in my hands, which resulted in me dropping a lot of things last week. I went to the doctor this past Tuesday. I got a shot of prednisone, plus some prescriptions to help deal with the symptoms. The past 2 days have been okay, but I'm feeling my pain return. It comes in flares. There is no rhyme or reason to it. It has been happening 2 or 3 times a week for the past month. I figured it was just arthritis. I was popping Tylenol extra strength 4 times a day. Which is not good for my liver, but I couldn't take the pain. 

The doctor think it may be a job for a rheumatologist. She requested my records from the rheumatologist I saw 3 weeks ago. I may have to have more blood work depending on what my records reveal. So, I guess I'll be spending the beginning of 2026 at the doctor again. Oh what joy!! 

I've been waffling between feeling pretty well, and feeling overwhelmed with emotion. I am think a lot about the Christmases I had as a child, and all of the wonder and joy that came with it. I miss my grandmother's house and the holiday dinners and all of my cousins around. It came to me that I miss the feeling of Christmas. I wanted to try and recapture some of those feelings. That's why I wanted to send the cookies out, but physically, I'm just not able to do it. It's very disappointing. 

Christmas will be pretty quiet around here anyway. Erica is going to spend Christmas with her father in Jacksonville. I'm happy for her. After years of not speaking, she finally let him back into her life. They are much closer. David apologized for being a pretty crappy dad in her early life. They talk about those things with humor now. I don't think Erica is as haunted by some things anymore. Oh well, I'm just glad that she is having a relationship with her dad again. I would give almost anything to have another day with my dad. 

It's his birthday this coming Sunday. He would have been 90 years old this year. I am planning on having a family Zoom meeting with my mom's side of the family. I will watch one of my dad's movies for his honor. I really miss him this year. 

I really want my family in close proximity again. I'm tired of being scattered. I need someone close by to escape to whenever I start longing for those feelings of safety I had as a child. I guess I need some more therapy to deal with these feelings. I still see my therapist once a week. I see the psychiatrist on Saturday. It's just a med check. I guess I'm doing okay mentally. I feel a little hopeless at times, but that's nothing a cool million wouldn't solve. 

The Powerball is up to 1.5 billion. I want to win it. I have a lot of plans for it. I keep praying about it. But, all things in God's time, right? If it is His will that I should become a multi-millionaire then so be it. In the meantime, I am thankful for all that I do have. I'll admit it though, it's not enough. I'm still struggling financially. I am months behind on bills. I have to pay my electric bill today or it will be disconnected. I'm tired of deciding what to spend my $25 on, be it gas or food. With the new year coming up, I'll have to satisfy another deductible and pay for some prescriptions. I set aside $700 in my FSA at work, but that will go quickly. Let's just say, I'm tired of robbing Peter and Paul to pay Tom. It's not working anymore. 

But, still, I'm trying to maintain a positive attitude. Depression is so tiresome. I really don't want to spend anymore time in the rabbit hole. Besides, it gets me no where. So, I will put on my Christmas music and dance around the house with my cat. I'll try to enjoy Christmas eve and Christmas Day. I'm going to the 3 pm Mass on Christmas eve. I think April and I will be watching a lot of TV. Who knows? I plan to sleep a lot, catch up on my sleep. 

By the way, my grades are in from school. I got a solid B in both classes. Hooray for me!!! So, I guess this is Merry Christmas to you. Thank you for reading my blog. I hope you get something out of it. It's just a collection of random thoughts from a rather disturbed person. Not as disturbed as in the past, but still..

Peace Joy Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Art of Forgiveness

 

The dictionary defines forgiveness as a conscious decision to release resentment or vengeance towards someone who has harmed you, regardless of their deserving. It is not the act of forgetting or condone that harm. It simply means that you let go of any bitterness or resentment towards that person. 

I have a lot of people to forgive. I think we all have. I have harbored bitterness towards childhood bullies and people that I believe have wronged me somehow. Understandably, I have also harbored a deep hatred and anger towards those that have assaulted me. I carried this weight around for years. I even went so far as to hate myself and feel guilty for things that simply were not my fault. 

But I have learned to forgive. The first person I had to forgive was myself. I had to learn, after years of therapy, that I am a good and lovable person. I deserve to be loved and treasured. I am not a throwaway. I am not a monster. I am a child of God. God, who created me, loves me for myself. He knows my faults. He recognizes my shortcomings and loves me anyway. He gave me grace. So, I had to learn to give myself grace. Mistakes are not a sign of failure, but a lesson to learn. I make the necessary corrections and try again. That was the biggest thing I had to learn to do, try again. 

There were many times that I gave up on myself, on family, on God. I didn't believe I was worth the effort. I thought that I was a colossal mistake. I honestly believed that I wasn't wanted. My parents never said or did anything to make me feel this way, but I felt that way just the same. No one knew I felt that way. I never spoke about my pain. I isolated at a very young age. I thought if I was a good girl and stayed out of the way I would be loved. I was loved. I know that now. But, I would have denied it vehemently then if you had asked me. 

I've said it before, but I tried to take my own life several times. For some reason, I survived each attempt without any damage. The fact is, I saw each survival as a failure. I couldn't even kill myself, that's how pitiful I was. It didn't occur to me that my death would hurt anyone. I figured everyone would just get over it, and move on with their lives. It's only now that I realize that I must have caused my family a lot of anguish that I was so miserable and they couldn't help me. No one could help me. I had to help myself first. To do that, I had to forgive myself and trust God. He must have saved me for something. 

So, here I am now. Sometimes still reeling from my parents deaths. Trying to figure out what to do with my life. The fact that I am 60 years old only occurs to me when I try to make plans for my future. I want a house, but I don't have the body for the upkeep. I mean, I can't mow the lawn, etc. I could hire someone sure, but I don't have the money for it. If fact, I don't have the money for down payment for a house. I want a newer car, but again, I have a severe cashflow problem. In fact, Christmas this year is looking pretty bleak. 

I sometimes get angry at my parents for dying. I wasn't done with them yet. I still depended on them daily for support. I called my mom at least once a day to check in, and my dad at least once a week. I would call to get my "phone hug". When they died, I was left without that support. I had no one to go to anymore. Sure I still have my sister, but she is not a touchy feely person, so no hugs from her. My brother yelled at me about 6 months afterwards, basically telling me to get over it. So, I started calling my Aunt Gloria once a week. She was my mom's best friend and dad's cousin. She became my support system. I tell her all my problems. I'm starting to reach out to my other aunts and uncles for support now. It's kind of hard, but I'm learning to trust them. I don't do it more often because I don't want to seem so immature and needy, even though that's sometimes the way I feel. 

So, how do you forgive a dead person. My therapists suggests writing a letter. I've done that a few times. I told my my mom about how her illness affected me, and how I blamed her for driving my dad away. But, that's not the truth. At least I hope not. I never did have that conversation with my father. It's a regret. But I forgive my mom for being sick and I forgive my father for not being able to deal with it. Loving a mentally ill person is very difficult. I know this now. I guess now I should make a list of things I need to forgive and write them done to get them off my heart. It was suggested I write it on a rock and throw them into a lake or pond. That sounds like a really good idea. I think I may do that to close out 2025. This has been a pretty sucky year, and unless something miraculous happens, it will end on a not so great note. The theme for 2026 will be openness. I will open my self to new experiences and seek an adventure. I will continue to open my heart for love. I will continue to hope. 

Peace Joy Love-B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Giving Thanks

 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. It's a strictly American holiday in which we celebrate the blessings of of lives. It was originally a day for the Pilgrims to mark their survival in the colonies. It was thanks to the Native Americans or Indigenous peoples of the colonies that helped them survive. What did we give them in return? We gave them disease and stole their land. It's a harsh truth that most White people want to wash over like so much of history that they find unpleasant. But, in fact, when the colonists came they seemed to think that they had divine rights to the land that we call America. The natives were savages that had to be eradicated one way or another. So we either killed them or shuffled them towards the west. We stole their gold, and pushed them out of their way of life. 

Now, I am not trying to be un-American. But I think we need to look at our history for what it is. The Atlantic Passage brought the slave trade to America. It can safely be said that not one black person in this country has ancestors that are native to this country unless they have native blood running through their veins. The colonist wiped out about 60% of the native population by the time they were through and "imported" about 5 million Africans. 

Does that make me less than American? To the racist, I guess it does. But, I did not ask to come here. My ancestors did not come to America to seek a better life. They were kidnapped and brought here by force for slave labor. Blacks have endured 400 years of slavery and 150 years of discrimination. We had to fight in the courts just to be declared a whole person by the American government. 

I can't really say why I am talking about this, it's just that sometimes being an American is embarrassing. The history of this country, especially the treatment of other races is based on white supremacy. Right now, there is a movement to turn back the accomplishments of civil rights workers in all cases. The government has gotten increasingly openly racist. It's always been racist, but now it seems that it's okay to be a racist if you say that you are being a "patriot." 

I'm all for national pride, you understand, but why can't all of us, black, white, brown, yellow and red be proud Americans? Why can't we continue to fight for our dreams? What is the white man so afraid of anyway? Doe he think we are going to line them up and shoot them? Is he afraid that we will put them in camps like they did to the Japanese, and now doing to the Latino? Should white people have to carry their citizenship papers around proving they were born here? And if not, should they be exported back to their country of origin, especially if they are criminals? Maybe he is afraid. Maybe he is terrified of what would happen if he lost power and had to kowtow to another race. 

I happen to believe that we should be enforcing the human race, but that is neither here nor there. If the animals ever got wise and rose up we'd all be done for anyway. Then we would be slaughtered and packaged for consumption. 

So, keeping that all in mind. Give thanks for your current freedoms. Give thanks for your family and friends. If you have a job, food and a roof over your head, give thanks for that. I will be giving thanks for all that and the love I have in my life. You never know when it can all be taken away. 

Peace, Joy, Love-B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Shape of My Heart

 

So, I have hung up my dating shoes. I had taken a break from the dating sites in hopes of meeting someone the natural way. That went over like a cement balloon in a wind storm. I am and have decided to remain terminally single. 

Not that I mind all that much. The selection of men on the sites is questionable at best. Most of them are old homophobes who think they are God's gift to womankind. Reading some of the profiles was shocking due to their out and out hostility. Some were laughable. The lack of education is quite apparent. This on the profiles of those who claim to have a college degree! Other men want nothing but sex. I suppose I must give them credit for their honesty, but that's not what I'm looking for right now. In fact, sex is far from my mind these days. 

What do I want? I want romance. I think I deserve to be swept off my feet. I want to be impressed by a man. I want him to want to be with me and spend time with me. I want someone to walk into a room and turn on some music and grab me for a slow dance. I need good conversation and a great sense of humor. I don't think I am asking too much. 

The way things are going, I will never meet anyone. I had decided a while ago that I will spend my life alone before getting into a substandard relationship. I guess I will just have to be content being an old maid. It be different I guess if I weren't so poor. I think I'd be more dynamic if I had money. Money makes the world go around after all. If I were a truly independent woman, I don't think I would even worry about being alone. 

The heart is my favorite shape. It makes me feel good. It reminds me of love. Not so much of the kind of love that 2 people share, but the love that I share with God. It helps me remember that I am loved and always have been. My own heart has been ripped to shreds and pieced back together on several occasions. However, joy still beats within it. While I am alone, I still have hope. I suppose that is the most important thing. I love myself, which is the greatest love of all. I just wish I could share it with someone. Until then, I guess I'll just spread it around to all I come in contact with, even at work. 

Peace, Joy and most of all, LOVE 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: It's that Time of Year

 

Okay, so my rage against the holiday season has ended. In a big way too. I've been watching Christmas romantic comedies for the past 2 weeks. They've been quite enjoyable too. Granted they are a little corny and I know it's going to work out for the heroine, but still I like them. I mean after all, it's the time of year for the world to fall in love. 

Christmas for most people is a great time of year. You seem to feel happy for no apparent reason, you smile at strangers and little kids are especially cute and adorable. Even the music is good. I'm listening to Christmas music right now. I love decorating for the holidays. I love having a colorful tree and sitting up at night to watch the lights twinkle. 

You see, when I was growing up, we didn't have much. But my parents went all out at Christmas. We asked for things and just hoped they were under the tree on Christmas morning. I never cared about the presents anyway. I just like to see everyone happy on that day. I love to buy gifts for people. I like trying to find out what they really want and get it if I can afford it. I just love seeing the faces of recipients when they open the present. I don't do it for glory or praise. I do it to make them truly happy. 

I already have my gift giving wish list for this year. I'm just hoping I can afford it. We owe and I owe so much money to so many people it's a hot mess. I don't really care anymore. I have figured out that credit scores are a scam. The government is so in debt and yet they have the nerve to tell me I can't borrow money when they owe trillions. 

I've picked out my Christmas cards on Amazon. Erica is encouraging me to use Etsy instead of Amazon in order to support small businesses. Usually, I have found Etsy to be expensive, but I did take a look yesterday and found a few things I actually like. I'll take a look there for the cards. I only need about 15 anyway. I don't send out many cards anymore. Postage is ridiculous. 

I don't really want anything for Christmas. I need a new printer. I'd like a zebra print purse from Dooney & Burke. It's on sale right now, but I really can't afford it. I have the electric, car insurance and phone to pay. Plus, I need to give April money for the storage unit. We have to pay it by December 4th otherwise they will auction off our stuff, and we've got some good shit in there. 

I met with a grief counselor on Friday. My therapist thought it would be a good idea, since I am still in mourning for my parents. This time of year is especially hard for me. I miss my mom in the kitchen baking, and I would go visit my dad for his birthday in December and stay through the New Year. It's been a while since they died, but I'm still having a hard time. Not just now, but all the time. It went pretty well. Her name is Carla, and she's very nice and very easy to talk to. We are going to work on how I am processing my grief and get ready for the anniversaries. 

This is the first time in months that I've been able to smile when I think of my parents. Most of the time I cry or get really depressed. I had a suicidal thought last week. I didn't do anything, I just tried to put it out of my mind. I succeeded in doing that by watching a Christmas movie. 

I'm going back on the dating site I think. I will be very discerning regarding my choice. I haven't got time to fool around. I just want a companion right now. No sex, just fun. Then sex, hahaha. I have to figure that out still. I'll give it some more thought. 

Peace, Joy Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Let Her Cry

 

She weeps when there is no one around. In the daytime, the tears fall like rain. No one can see those. Everyone has gone to work. Only the animals see. They gather at her feet and seem to ask her why. Why do you cry? Why are you sad? What can we do? 

The dog licks her toes. The cat climbs on her lap and makes biscuits on her shirt. All the while, she weeps. Does she even know why the tears come? Hot and salty burning her face. Her eyes become raw and achy from the sting of her tears. Sometimes she cries pretty, other times it is an ugly scene. Her nose runs, and voice cracks and she moans with pain of a thousand years of dreams broken. Does she even know why? 

Sometimes she think she knows, but doesn't dare speak it lest she sound too pitiful. Other times, it just seems like the thing to do on those lonely days. Her days are spent alone. Anchored to a desk with a headset connecting her to a world and people she couldn't care less about. She talks for a living. Trying to be cordial and helpful to those who ring through. But in between, she weeps. 

When did her life become so lonely? When did she become so old and jaded? What happened to the smiling girl in the picture when life held such promise? Where did she go? When exactly was the day her mind betrayed her and get so cloudy and muddled? The promises of life were broken. The success she promised herself is a long ago thought now. 

She had wanted to be an educated woman, a doctor. She just knew she would go to college and be a great thinker and doer of things. She would find the love of a good man and have 4 children. She would live in a nice house and be a good wife and mother. Then came the day when that slipped through her fingers and fell to floor crashing into a million tiny pieces that were so unrecognizable no one would be able to put that shattered dream back together. 

She wept all the time then. She didn't remember her dreams. She lived in a nightmare fully awake. Her thought processes became those of despair and death. She believed her mind when it said those things. She was stupid. She was ugly, she was a monster so horrible that no one could possibly like her let alone love her. Who did she think she was anyway? This blob of a girl, this horrid, putrid excuse for a human being? God did not create her. She was a creature from the deepest, coldest crevices of hell. She believed that she was a child of the devil himself. That is how her mind betrayed her. She had always believed her mind before. It had never lied to her, why should it lie now. She would be better off dead. It would have been better if she had never existed. She believed it. So, she wept. 

Now, she knows better. She knows that she is of God, and was created in His image and light. But it is too late for her. She grieves a life that is lost. The life she should have had. All of the time it took for her to find her way back to the light made her too old, too broken and forgotten. She doesn't smile much anymore. She hardly ever sings anymore. She doesn't dream anymore. She merely exists in this world and will continue to do so until her time comes. She now hopes that that time comes soon. She is tired. 

So very tired. Her body aches, and her head hurts. Sometimes, the tears do not fall. But there is a pain in her chest. She knows that it is her heart that weeps. One day to the next she goes about her business. There was a phrase in a movie she's seen many times; Get busy livin or get busy dyin. She no longer knows what to do. She feels it is too late to live, but it is not her time to die. So, she just is. 

That is why she weeps. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Downward Spiral

 

As much as I am fighting it, I am in a downward spiral. I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't do much of anything without an incredible effort. Work has been one long struggle to get through each second of everyday. I feel like I am losing touch with reality. But then again, my reality is nothing I want to hold onto. 

My mind wanders to the depths of despair. Today, I worked for 40 minutes, and then called out. I went for a long drive. I stopped and bought some cheap cigarettes. After not smoking for over a year, it seemed like the sensible thing to do. I think if I didn't have them today, I would have fallen completely apart. I even thought of suicide. It wasn't just a fleeting thought today. It was a solid real thought. Death has become an option. 

I've been thinking of the next 20 years, and my future doesn't look good. I got a new diagnosis from the rheumatologist I saw last week. Instead of sarcoidosis, she found that I my blood work is positive for another autoimmune disease; primary biliary cholangitis. It's a disease in which my body is producing antibodies that are attacking my bile ducts, eventually destroying them. This in turn means that my liver cannot release bile into my bloodstream and allows for the build up of toxins. There is no cure. Eventually, I will go into liver failure and die. 

There is treatment. There are a couple of drugs on the market. However, from what I can tell, the drugs work in the gallbladder. I do not have a gallbladder. In worse cases, a transplant it warranted, but since I have diabetes, I may not be a good candidate for a transplant. So, I don't see much of a future. 

I'm not sure what to do at this point. I have 2 cat scans on Friday. One with contrast and one without contrast. She wanted to get pictures of my upper body and soft tissues of my chest and neck, because my lymph nodes in my neck and armpits are always swollen. I'm so tired. Fatigue is a major symptom, and apparently people with liver disease don't sleep much. 

In the meantime, I feel very alone. I stopped talking to Caton or whoever he is. I think he was a romance scammer after all. I told him I was sick, and that's why I haven't written in a few days. I wrote to him on Saturday, and didn't hear from him. Anyway, I deleted the app from my phone. At any rate, if he was who he said he was, he would have moved heaven and earth to contact me. So, much for my latest attempts at love. 

I've pretty much decided that I am just going to be a sick old lady without any prospects. I suppose I should try to think positively, but I keep thinking about grandmom, Aunt Berta and mom. All of them had liver cancer or something wrong with their livers. I guess I'm just following the family line. I figured at best, I had 20 years or so left. But it doesn't look like it at this point. I guess I could just give up. 

I am not a hopeful person. I guess I never was. It's time to stop kidding myself. I'm tired.  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Tis the Season

 

I'm afraid I've reached the end of my tether. I go from being angry to caring about nothing. I've been yelling at the animals for no reason. I'm tired all the fucking time. It's that time. It's autumn. 

I like fall, I really do. The air is cool and crisp. There's a light breeze. I also dread it. I get depressed in the fall. It's seasonal affective disorder. I've never been diagnosed with it, but I know enough to know that the dark skies in the morning have a negative affect on me. I want to hibernate like some kind of bear. 

I cocoon myself at night, wrapped in fuzzy blankets and blotting out the light in the bedroom. My bed becomes my cave and I long to be cozy. However, I don't like waking up in the dark. It's hard to get started. I usually can't do too much in the morning during fall and winter. I wake up tired and want nothing more than to go back to bed. 

I become irritable and quick to temper. Lately, I've also had some paranoia. I keep thinking that people are talking about me. What people, I don't know. It's not like I know anybody. It's just the 3 of us. April and Erica still have their side conversations without me. When they do that, I feel angry, and I curse them in my mind. I know it's irrational because I didn't feel this way in the spring or summer time. I was pretty much upbeat all summer. Now, everything seems to get on my nerves. 

I started to talking to a guy on line, but have ignored him for about a week. I just don't care. I got tired of trying to be okay with the fact that I never talk to him on the phone. The more I thought about the more my mind convinced me he was some kind of romance scammer. I've made it a point of telling him that I am poor. I texted him today that I've been in the hospital that's why he hadn't heard from me. Quite frankly, I've compartmentalized him into a part of my mind for absurdities. I want a guy who is real and close by. Then again, I don't think I want to be with anyone at all. 

I'm 60 years old for God's sake. Entirely too old to play games. If you want me, here I am. I'm not chasing you. Actually, I don't mind being a spinster. I'll just get another cat and call it a life. I filled out a mortgage application. I don't know why. I don't know if I really want a house. I like the idea of owning a house, but who wants to deal with repairs and taxes. There's a lot that goes into the upkeep of a house. I don't even have the energy to paint one, let alone fix something. I suppose I'll buy a house if I ever win the lottery. That's the only way it will happen. 

God, I wish we could open the windows. It's so stuffy in here. I'm hot. I also want another cigarette. Yes, I started smoking again. Only 3-5 cigarettes a day. It helps me concentrate. It also relieves my anxiety. I'm anxious about school. My classes are okay. History is more interesting than my English class. She has us reading some dumb shit that's supposed to be funny or at least humorous. The stories are NOT funny to me. I think my humor is different than most people. It takes a lot to make me laugh. I chuckle from time to time, but mostly I just don't get it. As a result I'm only getting a C, and the thing is, I really don't care. I'm taking classes next semester and in the summer, but I hope that's the end of my core requirements. The state of Georgia forces you to take American history courses. Somethings have been really interesting. Mostly all it's done is make me dislike the settlers of the Americas a great deal. They came over here thinking they had the right to the land and the fortunes. The nearly destroyed the indigenous peoples that were here, hijacked there land and corrupted their cultures. 

I can see why conservatives are against teaching about race. The out and out criminal way they treated Africans with the Atlantic Slave trade was nothing less than an abomination. Africans were literally stolen people. How they can deny it is beyond me. 

I'm depressed. There, I said it. I want to go to bed. However, I keep trying to do productive things. I have it in my head that I at least have to try to live. Soon the holidays will be here. Unless, I plan carefully, there won't be any money for Christmas. I don't know what to get anyone anyway. Tis the season motherfuckers. Happy whatever. 

B   

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: A Little Talk with Jesus

 

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed it be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever, Amen. 

Dear Lord, 

First I want to thank you for waking me up this morning, even though I was awaken by a four-legged black and white fur ball at 5: 45 AM. I was having a nightmare anyway, so I can't say I really mind. I'm having trouble sleeping this week. I'm very tense. As a result I've been smoking again. I only smoke 3 a day, but still, it's not a good thing. I'm asking You to take this stress from my heart and restore my joy in everyday things. 

I ask that you heal my body and spirit. I feel a little far from you this week. I was good for a few days. I went to Mass last Saturday morning. I felt refreshed and renewed. Then I did my budget for the next 2 weeks. I became tense and down-trodden. I don't know what to do, Lord. I need a financial blessing. I have been praying for a promotion to level 2 advocate. I have been told that I'm going to get it, but that was back in August. Still, I have not been enrolled in training classes, even though we have a new hire class going on right now. 

I ask that you look after my family. Heal my sister from her Parkinson's disease. Help Erica with her stress at work. Give her a glad heart and heal her soul. I ask that you give my brother a glad heart. I would love to see him sometime soon. Please give him some time off from work to come down for a visit. I ask that you bless him for his continued generosity towards me. He has bailed me out so many times. 

I ask you for guidance. Please lead me on the path of a life that glorifies you. Help me to be more like you. Let me approach everything I do with the love of Jesus in my heart. I thank You for letting me keep my job. I don't deserve the grace they have given me. 

Lord, I feel like everyday is a new struggle, and not just a chance to get closer to you. I pray that you continue to give me the strength to deal with each call as a compassionate person. Sometimes, I feel that I am flying by the seat of my pants. Help me be confident and do everything with kindness and empathy. 

I give all the glory to you Lord. I ask that you continue to bless me and all of my family and friends. Look after us, shine Your light upon all of us, and lead us in the direction of righteousness. Let us walk with the Lord in our hearts, and do all things through Christ. 

You are a deliverer, a healer, a strong fortress, a friend, a heavy load bearer, and confidant. I praise you, Lord, now and forever. I ask all things in Jesus holy name. Amen. 

Peace, Joy, Love - Bebe

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Tired of Being

 

I am sick. I don't feel well. I went to the dentist yesterday for a simple root canal. The dentist had trouble drilling out one of my roots. Anyway, it hurt. It hurt a lot. It also triggered an autoimmune response. I got a fever on 101, and my whole body hurt. I was supposed to work yesterday, and I was prepared to work, but I couldn't. I was in pain. So I called out. Mistake #1. I woke up very dizzy today, and had blood coming from my left ear. I was very dizzy and confused. I could barely speak I was so tired. So, I called out again. Mistake #2. I called the doctor and made an appointment for today. Mistake #3. Why was that a mistake, because the doctor didn't see anything, that's why. No blood, no infection, no problem with my ear. I am now sitting here questioning my sanity and seriously considering my life and where it is going. 

I am sick, but no one seems to believe me when I don't feel well. Not my family, not the doctors no one. Ok, maybe my gastroenterologist believes me as she is the one that diagnosed the sarcoidosis. But no one else. Whenever I see any other doctor, they do bloodwork and say they see nothing wrong. They make me feel like I am making it up when I say I don't feel right. I don't feel well most days, but I convince myself to just go through with the day anyway, even though I really just want to go to bed and sleep for a long time. 

I've been faking it for quite a while now. No one seems to care or notice. I don't know why I seem to care. My sister has never been one to notice if I am sick. She always looks at me and says in a very discouraging tone, what's the matter with you? As if that's going to make me open up and tell her what's wrong. If I tell her I don't know, I get the look. The look that's just saying get it together. No one seems to appreciate the fact that I just get tired of living sometimes. Like now. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of putting on the happy face and the bright tone at work. I would like to have a job where I just didn't have to interact with people. But, I suppose everyone has to interact sometimes. 

When I try to explain what I mean to my family, they are just like, everyone is tired. Everyone feels the same way, but you just have to do it. What if I don't want to just do it? What if I just want to lay down for a while? What if I just drive off into the sun one day and tell you all to go fuck yourselves? What if I do that? Then what will you fucking do? Who you going to blame for all of your problems then if I'm not here to be my old unreliable self? FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK!!! 

Right now, I hate you all and I don't care if you know it. I'm tired and I'm sick. I'm not crazy either. It isn't all in my mind. I've never felt clearer. I'm just tired of being. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Time Moves on

 

Today moved very slowly. But, I had a startling thought today. I have been waiting my whole life. Waiting for what? I don't know, but I always figured I had enough time to figure it out and go for it. Well, it occurred to me today on my fifth trip to the bathroom that I am running out of time. I suppose I should say yesterday, since it's almost 3 am. Today is the 3rd of October. It's eight weeks until Thanksgiving. It may seem far away, but it seems like yesterday that I had my 60th birthday. 

Time is passing me by quickly. What have I been waiting for? I've been waiting for a romantic love. I've never truly been in love despite my attempts at it. Therefore, I've never had a long term relationship. I've been waiting for a family of my own. That's not going to happen because of the cruel biological joke on women called menopause. So, I have cat. She loves me in spite of myself. I love her madly. I've been trying to get my bachelors degree. I haven't been too stagnant about that. I am back in school for the last time. I'm waiting to do things until I have enough money, but unless I am doused with money, that's going to be a long wait. I have so many dreams, like being an actress, but I need money to start. I know I'd be great at it. But, I need help. I've tried to ask Erica, but every time I ask her a question she gets this look on her face that tells me that I am bothering her. 

I was supposed to be going to Italy this year. I made plans for it on my 55th birthday. I am still trying to get out of the state of Georgia. It will cost about $1500 and I currently have $0.57 in my savings account. I owe about $4500 in bills. Every month's rent is a question mark about paying on time. The rest of the bills are kind of pay as I have it. I do have housing instability. 2 paychecks missed and I'm on the street, well maybe a hotel, but still no permanent address. I'm due for my raise soon. It's an additional $500 per month. Maybe I can finally catch up to things. Hopefully, I will. 

The cats go to the vet on Saturday, so I have that to deal with, maybe it won't cost as much as I fear. I do have finally approval on what things are done. Zaybra has a new food, Smalls. It really help clear up her skin. She doesn't scratch as much and her poops are not toxic. The food is expensive, but it's worth it. Zelda doesn't like it. So, she has her own food, Nulo. Kyber is the only one that's not finicky. Don't get me wrong, his food is expensive too. He needs more kibble. All three of them need to get a job. 

Soon, the holidays will be upon us. I'm hoping to get some rest on my days off. I use up my PTO as fast as I earn it. There are some people at work that have 3 weeks accrued. How they can show up everyday is beyond me. I've never been able to do it. Not in my whole life. I've always taken time off at least once or twice a month, even in high school. I keep telling people I was meant to be a housewife. 

I like to think I'm independent. Maybe I was once, but I don't want to be independent. I want to be a dependent. I want someone to claim me on their taxes and expect a clean home, a pretty wife and a hot dinner ready when he comes home. I can do that. I'd be great at that. In the mean while, time waits for no one. I've got maybe 20 years before I croak. I guess I better start living and stop waiting. Before you know it the parade will have passed by and I'll be standing on the corner looking stupid. 

Peace - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Excuse me? I have What?!

 

Well, I finally got all of the results back for all my tests. I do not have fatty liver disease. I do not have NASH or MASH. I do not have cirrhosis of the liver. My liver is not failing or anything stupid like that. What I do have is autoimmune hepatitis and sarcoidosis. I have what? I have sarcoidosis which is an autoimmune disease that causes granulomas to form in mostly connective tissues in your body. For me, these granulomas have formed in my liver. They have triggered an autoimmune response causing me to form antibodies which in turn are attacking my liver. Hence, the chronic hepatitis. 

Is there a cure, well no. I can try to change my diet if I can figure out what triggers the autoimmune response. Sarcoidosis is a chronic nasty little disease that a person can have for years. It normally affects the lungs. So, I need to have a chest x-ray to take a look in my chest cavity to see if any granulomas are forming. 

Since it's an autoimmune disease, I'm seeing a rheumatologists since they deal with it a lot. I found a doctor on Zocdoc that specializes in sarcoidosis. I see her on October 21. I've also been trying to get in touch with the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, FL to see if I can get an appointment for a workup. I have a feeling some of my meds are contributing to some of my problems, and I am not sure if they are all still working for my benefit. For instance, I have been craving chocolate, but not just any chocolate, M&Ms, which do not really raise my blood sugar all that much which is surprising since I've been popping them like, well like candy.  I thinks it's the serotonin and dopamine I'm craving. 

I'm not sure of what kind of treatment I can get if any. The most common treatment is corticosteroids but I can't take steroids because they cause my blood sugar to skyrocket. Dr. Raina mentioned a medication but I couldn't find it. Anyway, she told me to follow up with my PCP or a pulmonologist. I decided to go to a rheumatologist. 

So how do I feel about it? I don't know I was very surprised when I heard the news. I guess I'm glad I don't have some dreaded liver disease, but I'm a little miffed that I have something that will cause me to suffer later on in life. I guess I should admit it. I'm depressed. I didn't do any school work last week, so I failed last weeks quizzes. I should be doing that right now, but I'm having a great deal of motivational issues. I don't really care. Right now I'm more depressed because my eyesight is going downhill. For the past 2 weeks I've had really blurry vision. I can only see if I wear my glasses. It's 2.5 magnification, and without them I can't see the screens and even watching TV is blurry. I got so bad I called my eye doctor and went in for an urgent visit. my right eye is 20/40 and my left eye is 20/70. I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it is upsetting. 

I'm turning into an old lady and I'm not ready. My joints pop, and I have mysterious aches and pains. I'm just not ready to deal with my mortality right now. I'd rather live in my bubble of make believe and keep thinking that I'm about 35 years old. Why can't I? 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Come to Me My Melancholy Baby

 

It's been a little over a week since I got my diagnosis. I've had time to sit with it and reflect. What is my reaction to the whole thing? Mostly, it's What the fuck? I have looked over my life and how I have or have not taken care of myself. I think that my 6 suicide attempts and years of taking pills have caught up with me. I have ruined my body's disposal. 

The liver filters out all the toxins in your body. It would seem that I have overloaded the system and caused some liver damage. It's rather ironic, that now that I am content in my own skin and want to do something with my life, I may end up killing myself after all. 

I suppose I could say that the whole thing is bringing me down. On top of that, I haven't been able to keep my blood sugar under control. It's been in the 300s or even 500. I haven't been eating sugar or a lot of carbs, so I don't know what it's from. I'm tired all the time. I think I have a UTI. My bladder hurts, and I have to pee like 10 times a day. As a result, I'm dehydrated. I don't want to see the doctor again. I'm sick of doctors. 

My liver biopsy is scheduled for Sept. 16th. I have to admit I'm nervous. It's not as quick and easy as I thought. They take several pieces of the liver, not just one. Also, I'm going to be sedated. I didn't think it was that complicated. I guess I've been in a bit of denial. 

I keep telling myself that this won't kill me, but the I think of Grandmom and Aunt Berta. Especially Aunt Berta. She got sick so suddenly, and then she was gone. I don't want to die like that. I'd prefer to get killed by a lion. It's my spirit animal, so I feel it would be appropriate. 

I've had enough of this day already and it's on 6 am. Today is going to be a melancholy day. I wish I could take the day off. I just want to stay in bed. Oh, I met someone on Tik Tok. At least I think I've met someone. He may be a bot. I'm not quite sure. But that's another conversation. 

Peace - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Now I know

 

I had my appointment with my gastroenterologist today. It was my follow up to my lab tests and my Fibroscan that I had done on the 13th. The long and short of it. I have stage 2 liver disease. I am having a liver biopsy in a couple of weeks to determine the extent of liver damage. So, there it is. I have my answer to all this terrible aches and pains and the horrible fatigue. 

After six months of doctor visits and experiencing abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting and fever, during which time I was told countless times they didn't see anything, I finally have a diagnosis. So, I feel a great deal of relief. I am not crazy. There is something wrong with my body. Not only do I have liver disease, but my body is making antibodies that are attacking my liver cells. Which means I have an autoimmune disease. 

So let's add it all up, shall we? I have bipolar disease, anxiety disorder, insomnia, diabetes 2, irritable bowel syndrome, high blood pressure and now liver disease. I must tell you, I'm a little miffed. I'm not exactly sure what to do. Diabetics have a special diet, bowel issues have a special diet, and now liver disease has a special diet. I've been eating fruits and vegetables, but that's not too great for my diabetes because fruits have sugar, I can't eat a lot of protein because my body can't process it correctly. I'm just going to live on rice crispies and bananas. But I don't think I can do that. Maybe I'll just start smoking again! Sike!! I wouldn't do that. I really have to call the dietician so I can figure out what to eat. Right now, seems all I can manage is toast. I can't even eat butter anymore, I have to use Earth Balance spread. It's good so I'm not complaining. 

I think I'm still in shock a bit. The liver biopsy is just a routine procedure to get a better idea of the next steps in treatment. I have to wait until the hospital calls to schedule the appointment, which won't be until Tuesday or so, because it's Labor Day weekend. My sister, God Bless her, researched the procedure and sent me a video. It did ease some of my anxiety. I told April, Erica, Sean and Jerald about it. I also sent a text to or family matriarch, Aunt Delores. My brother asked for clarification, but haven't heard much from Erica or Sean. I'm going to call my Aunt Gloria tomorrow. I posted on Facebook, and all my friends are praying for me. So, that's nice. 

Oh well, so now I know. I'm glad I know, but with it came questions of my mortality. The doctor told me I'm on tracked for cirrhosis in 3.9 years which then leads to failure. However, the time table isn't exact. Anyway, I think I'll go watch something stupid on TV. Something to get me out of my head. I'm listening to music right now. Too bad it's dark outside already. I'd like to go for a walk. 

This isn't exactly what I wanted for my 60th birthday. I gotta hurry and save my coins. I need to get to Italy sooner rather than later. 

Peace, Joy, Love - Queen B  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: If I was a Man, It'd be a Different Story

 

So, I was sick again last week. Same old Abdominal pain and nausea. I put up with it on Monday, Tuesday and part of Wednesday. I had to take off early because I was sick and pissed off at the world. My calls were suffering. I could not have cared less about those phones if I tried. 

Thursday, I ended up in the Emergency room because I felt terrible and I had a slight fever, and my fingers were slightly yellow. Anyway, after 2.5 hours in the ER, I came home no better and more pissed off. They did a urinalysis, negative. They ran blood tests, on of my liver enzymes was elevated but other than that, negative. The did a CT scan, didn't see anything. Now, mind you I told them about my family history. But, as I was told, we didn't see anything that would be causing your pain. Okay, so I'm just some lonely, crazy old black lady. There's nothing wrong with me. Okay, so this abdominal pain is nothing, my breaking into a sweat for no apparent reason is nothing. My being extremely cold and then hot as hell is nothing. My insomnia is nothing. The fact that my mother went undiagnosed for 6 months before you found her tiny adenocarcinoma in her gut is nothing. The fact that my Aunt Berta's liver just gave up and quit on her for no apparent reason is nothing. 

I know I'm overweight. I know I have diabetes, and God knows I know I'm bipolar. But I'm not just going through menopause. There is something wrong in my gut. I'm tempted to go to the Mayo Clinic and get  work up, but I can't afford it money or time wise right now. If I get a full workup and nothing is found, then I'll just chaulk it up to me being nuts. But, right now I have acid reflux. I think I some pills around here somewhere. 

If I were a man, they would have done more for me. If I had someone with me, they might have done more. But as it stands, I'm just a hysterical female. Sexism in medical care is nothing new. It's been happening since the beginning of medicine. Women were just thought to be the weaker sex, and prone to hysteria. They really and truly used to send women to the doctor and a doctor would bring them to orgasm, and suddenly the women would be released from their emotional turmoil. Until the next appointment anyway. I try to be my own advocate. But I'm just so tired of everything. 

I don't see the gastroenterologist until the 29th. so I have to wait until then to find out the results of all my scans and tests etc. She'll probably tell me some bullshit. Lose weight, exercise, blah blah. That's all well and good, but what does that have to do with this pain? I wish someone would tell me something. Shit, tell me anything. Just don't say there's no reason for my pain. If I were a man, it would be different. If I was a man, I'd have a complete workup. If I were a man, they'd listen. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Happy Birthday, Queen

 

Enough with all my aches and pains! Today is a day for celebration. Today is my birthday. I am 60 years old at 1:20 pm. I was delivered by scheduled c-section at Parkview Hospital in Philadelphia, PA. That means something to astrologers. I know that I am a true Leo. 

So, what have I learned in my 60 years of life. Well, for one thing, I am most certainly enough. In fact, I am a lot, more than enough. I'm finally doing things that benefit me, and taking care of myself. While, I still do things for others, I am no longer the people pleaser starving for attention and love. I have learned, especially the last 5 years, that I am a caring, compassionate, loving, kind and intelligent human being. I have learned to give for my own satisfaction, no longer for expectation. I have learned that kindness, even in it's simplest expression can have a real impact on someone's day. I have ;earned to share my joys with the world through actions. Don't get me wrong, I am still a dreamer and wisher of things, but those things no longer consume me. I am grateful now. 

I didn't used to be grateful. I was angry and worried. I was angry at the world for constantly throwing obstacles in way. I would wallow in self-pity and fall into depression. My anxieties would overcome me and paralyzed with fear, I would do nothing. I blamed the world for that. My worries would take me down dark roads full of fear and mistrust. I didn't trust anyone especially not myself. I hated being alone. I was waiting for the proverbial knight on his gallant steed to gallop in and rescue me from my life. Needless to say, he never came. I had to rescue myself. 

It was a hard lesson to learn, but a necessary one. Without learning to love, honor and cherish myself, I am sure I would be dead. I say that in all seriousness. There were times that I wanted to die. I tried to snuff out my existence. I was a truly miserable person. The enemy was winning. 

However, I had to crawl out of that deep dark hole. It took everything I had. It took years of falling backward, and crawling forward to make it out, but I finally did. It was purely by the grace of God that I am alive. I acknowledge that. I know that he has some kind of purpose for my life. So, I took a vow, I would remain here on earth and try my best. God will show me what he wants me to do, and I will follow. It's quite simply a matter of faith. I never had faith before. I do now. 

I normally have a name for the year of my birth or the new year. I didn't name 2025. But I will name the remainder of 2025 for my birthday. It is The Year of Actuality. It is the year that all of my dreams and hopes will begin to take shape and I will live my life accordingly. I am, for example, not no longer wishing I had my degree, I am pursuing it. I am no longer hoping for a promotion, but am making strides to get it. I am actually writing a book, instead of dreaming about writing. Albeit, the one book is taking a long time, I recognize that I am telling my truth, and that takes time. It will get done this year, and it will great. 

I call myself a queen. It is not out of arrogance. It is a matter of necessity. I am a queen. I have no king, but that's okay. He'll come eventually. I'm ready. I ready for all kinds of adventures. I need to get my passport. I've decided to go to Italy after I graduate. It is my gift to myself. I will probably go alone. Who knows, I might meet a dashing Italian man. HA! There goes my imagination again. Oh well, at least I haven't lost the ability to dream. 

Happy birthday, Queen. Many happy returns. May the next 365 days be all that you hope and wish for. 

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Do I Really Want to Know?

 

So, I went to the doctor. This was a visit to my primary care doctor, not one of my specialists. I had my visit to my gastroenterologists a week or so ago. She had prescribed Linzess as I now have irritable bowel syndrome on top of everything else. I saw my primary doctor because I got sick for  week, and I wasn't feeling to great. She ran a bunch of blood tests. 

I got the results from my enhanced liver profile that my gastroenterologist ordered. It was not good. I had a score of 11.94. Which is a number that basically means my liver function is not good. I have something called a Fibroscan on Wednesday. 

My primary doctor ordered an ultrasound of my abdomen which I had done this past Friday. It went okay except that it hurt when they pressed down on the area of my liver. It feels enlarged or something. That part of my belly sticks out. Anyway, I started looking things up and the possibilities kinda suck. I could have liver cancer, that's the worst case scenario. I definitely have fatty liver disease. However, I may have something called MASH, which is a metabolic dysfunction of the liver. It causes all of the symptoms I've been having. I have to change my diet and lose weight. So, what else is new? It may have progressed to the cirrhosis stage. I'm sure I have liver damage. The scan on Wednesday will indicate how much. Hopefully the ultrasound I had on Friday will help diagnose my illness as well. 

I am not too happy about all this because Aunt Berta wasn't sick until she was in liver failure. A month or so later she died. Grandmom died from hepatic failure as well. So, liver disease runs in my family, so I am plenty nervous. I felt pretty good today, but I still got tired just doing some run of the mill chores like my laundry. I am feeling pretty detached lately. Part of it is the fact that I am turning 60 next Sunday, but mostly I've been thinking of my mortality. 

April finds out if she definitely has Parkinson's on Monday afternoon. She has all the markers for it. I think it's just a matter of finding out what stage she is. She's probably in middle of stage 1. At least I hope so. God only know what stage of liver disease I'm in right now. 

Life is kicking our asses right now. But still I'm trying to keep my head up. I didn't get any emails or anything telling me I've been fired, and I sent my supervisor my note from the doctor. I guess I'll find out more on Monday. I want to post for the advocate class. Arlita reminded me that I took level 1 and 2 calls when I was on the ERS team. I know I can handle it. I just have to keep my ass in the desk chair everyday. I'll post on Monday. I need the money. 

Well, I guess that's all. So much is happening right now, it's kind of overwhelming. That would normally have me hiding in bed watching the Flintstones. However, I made a promise to myself and my family that I wouldn't give up. So here I am all persevering and shit. 

I am supposed to hear about my labs this week. But with all the possible outcomes, it will most likely be bad news. So,  I ask myself, do I really want to know? Not really. What I really want is to win the Powerball. That and to talk to my mom. Mostly my mom. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Something is Wrong with Me

 

There's something wrong with me. I've been sick for the past 4 days. I had these weird red spots in the back of my throat. I started gargling with warm salt water and taking ibuprofen and cold medicine, but I haven't gotten any better. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday I had a fever of 100.5. While I know that's not trip to the emergency room, I don't get fevers. I've been so cold, but sweating like a pig at the same time, especially at night. The worse thing is the body aches and the fatigue, the overwhelming, debilitating fatigue. 

I spent all of Sunday and Monday in bed trying to rest. My throat isn't scratchy, and my nose isn't running. So, it's not a cold or sinus infection. I don't know what it is. I saw my endocrinologist yesterday, and I got a prescription for a z-pack. I've been taking it, but it is giving me diarrhea. My stools are black, so I think I've got some bleeding going on. 

I see my primary care doctor tomorrow, and I made a list of all my symptoms. Incredibly, that horrible back pain I had a couple of weeks ago has gone away. I don't know why. This keeps happening to me. Whatever is going on, I'm going to find out. I want tests run. I looked up my symptoms, and leukemia came up. So, I'll have a blood test. Maybe I have chronic fatigue syndrome. I should have gone to the doctor today, but I thought I'd be able to work today, but my throat is not right. 

It doesn't matter. The gruesome twosome will be mad at me anyway. I don't get much sympathy or compassion when I am sick. My appetite is gone. I've eaten maybe once or twice a day for the past 2 weeks. 

They probably won't find anything wrong with me. They'll just pass it of as depression or something. I mean I am crazy, right? 

I'm so tired. But I can't sleep. I took my meds last night and threw up. My head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. 

There's definitely something wrong. I wish there was a way I could go into the hospital for a few days for them to figure out what my problem is. But that would be too much like right. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: And So It Begins

 

The results of my sister's tests came back. She has Parkinson's disease. So, there it is. My sister, who just turned 65 on Wednesday has been diagnosed with a cruel, debilitating disease. She sees her neurologist on Monday, so she will get more information at that time. In the meantime, I have been Googling. The information is scary. 

I must admit, however, I haven't read too much, because I'm trying to wrap my head around this news. I have a lot of questions. I want to go to the doctor with her. I want to know what stage she is in, what to expect and when to expect it. The scariest part is the hallucinations and delusions that come with the disease. Then there is the lost of motor function, which has already started. I fear that I am watching my sister decline. It's been a quick decline. Six months ago, she was fine. 

I'm not sure how all of this is going to change things. What if her health declines faster and she is no longer able to work? Will this make me the breadwinner? Will Erica have to be her mom's care giver? How will that work? Will she have to go on disability? What happens if she does start having delusions and hallucinations? 

We need to move and pronto. I don't know when or how exactly, but we have to get out of this apartment this year. I'd like to stay in Johns Creek, but at this point I don't really care. 

On top of this, Erica's boss cut her overtime hours. She now works 8:30 to 5 pm. She used to work 8 to 6pm. That hour and a half adds up on a paycheck. They are going to be posting Customer Advocate positions at Delta, which is the level 2 position I've been gunning for the past 2 years. I told my boss that I'm ready to begin training. As soon as they open the position to internal employees, I'm posting. 

I had my phone meeting with the social security admin yesterday. It was a pointless waste of time. It took all of 5 minutes. She just told me that they wouldn't waive my overpayment and I had to set up payment arrangements. Anyway, I'm going to pay back $50 monthly. They don't bill or garnish your wages, so they will deduct the money from any future benefits. So, if I go back on disability, they will deduct it. I guess when I do or if I ever am able to retire, they deduct it from that payment also. 

I now have something in my throat. I went to the dentist for my cleaning. While she was examining me, she noticed some red spots on the back of my throat. There are about 10 red dots there. I figure that it's just an infection, so I got some cold medicine and have been gargling with warm salt water. Unfortunately, they are still there. I have some left over antibiotics so I'm taking that for the next few days to see if that helps. If it doesn't I guess it's off to the ENT. It's always something. 

I have come to the conclusion that I am just one of those people who are meant to struggle. It is a constant battle just to keep going and maintain some sense of positivity. I've been adjusting my attitude at work and it does seem to be helping. My day isn't so miserable anymore. But then again, I don't look at the future much. It's not a good thing for me. 

Right now my phone is acting stupid. I keep losing my internet connection. So, it's difficult to stream. I have to constantly reset my network. Like I said it's always something.   

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Everybody's Talkin' at Me

 

Seems everybody wants me to prove something lately. I have to prove to the government that I'm still crazy. I also have to prove that I can't afford to pay back Social Security the thousands that they say they overpaid me. I have to prove to the student loan people that I'm able to go back to school part-time. I have to prove to the apartment people that Kyber and Zelda are emotional support animals. Most of all I have to prove to myself that I can do this and remain focused. 

I'm always having to prove something to someone. Why does one have to keep proving disability for a mental illness? It's not like I'm going to be cured. I mean, bipolar sleeps sometimes, and then one day, BAM! You're crying hysterically in the shower trying to justify to yourself that it's necessary to wash your body. It takes me no less than a half hour every single fucking day to convince myself to take a shower. I have to talk myself into brushing my teeth. There's no one here to convince me, I have to do it myself. After I'm done, I have to take a cat nap. 

It's the same with eating. I hate eating actually. I get hungry but I hate eating. I hate cooking because by the time I finish, I don't want whatever it is I was cooking. It takes at least a half hour to decide I'm going to eat, and longer still if I am trying to eat something healthy. I think the only thing I do automatically is make my bed. I conditioned myself to make my bed as soon as I get up to prevent getting back in the bed and writing off the day as a major mistake. So, I do it. 

Everything is a chore lately. I keep trying to tell myself that I'm not depressed, but I'm lying. The truth is I'm tired. I'm tired of tryin. I'm tired of praying. I don't want to be an adult anymore. I just want to sleep late, drink coffee and go shopping. Why is that so wrong? Whose idea was this adult thing anyway? Why do we have to grow up and get jobs? Why is that the goal? Who invented society and why does society get to dictate who and what I am? 

There was a time in history when people like me would go away for a while to a nice place where they could rest away from the hustle and bustle that is life. We suffer from melancholia. I could use a place like that now. I talk to a therapist everyday, I'd take walks by a lake and rest on a lounge chair under a tree. Why can't I do that? Why does every Sunday night find me in front of my laptop typing away my anxieties about facing another day and week at a job I can't stand. When will things change? 

I have important decisions to make. People are looking at me and calling me asking for answers. I don't have any answers. I can't think that far ahead anymore. It hurts when I do. I just wish everyone would leave me alone. Stop talking, and pressuring and asking. The truth is I don't know. I don't know what, when or why. So, please stop talking at me. One day I hope to retreat into the fantasies in my mind where everything is quiet, and cool. Just a slight breeze, fragrance in the air and me by a tree next to a lake.  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Queen of Pain

 

Well, another sleepless night. I woke up in severe pain this morning. My back spasms have gotten worse and I am experiencing the most pain I have ever had. It's centered in my thoracic spine. Somehow I managed to make it through my work day. I was popping Tylenol and had a heating pad for a while. I was in the bathroom when I found the lidocaine patches. I put one of those on and survived the day. It hurts to move in any way. I can sit in the chair with a firm pillow behind me. I dug out my old back brace to give me some support. It's helping a little bit. 

Right now, I'm trying to decide if I should talk to Dr. Ayer or seek the counsel of a new doctor who also specializes in pain management. I'm leaning towards calling the new doctor. She's here in Johns Creek and is supposed to be very good. Plus, she's black, which means I may not be dismissed as just another female with pain. Of course a new doctor means new x-rays and perhaps another MRI, but I don't care. The pain is quickly becoming unbearable. I can see why some people get so desperate. While suicide has not crossed my mind, I can understand why people do it. 

I have always told myself that I wouldn't take narcotics over a long period for fear of addiction, but things are at the point now where I may consider it. The lack of sleep and agonizing pain is getting to me. It hurts to walk. Every step jars my spine in such a way as to cause sharp pains in my back. I'm not sure of what to do. I hope that I don't get shuffled off for more physical therapy. The pain is so bad that I am seriously considering more surgery. I wish there was such a thing as a spine transplant. 

As look back, I have been in chronic pain since 2012. That's 13 years of sometimes crippling pain. I'm tired. I get at most 4 hour of sleep a night. It's taking a toll on my mental state. I'm currently dealing with April's illness, and money stress, work stress and this constant soul crushing pain. I honestly don't know how much more I can take. I don't want to be the queen of pain. I don't have time for this shit. School starts in 3 weeks. I have to be ready. I want my degree. 

Oh well, I guess that's all for now. I'm just here, plugged in and listening to my music. Right now that's Annie Lennox radio on Pandora. It's a good mix. It's stimulating and relaxing at the same time. Poor Zelda has been up with me all night. She's napping next to my computer. She really wants to be on my chest or my lap, but even her 12 pounds is too heavy for me. I've had to shove her off of me several times tonight. I'm so sorry Pud Pud. Hopefully, I'll feel better in a few hours. Time for more Tylenol. 

Peace - BB

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Good Girl

 

My sister has been sick this weekend. I automatically kicked in with my old trauma response. This house is clean. All the laundry has been done. All the dishes have been washed, and the bathroom is sanitized. While I know this doesn't sound that unusual for me, the sense of urgency that these tasks have been completed is out of the ordinary. I am cleaning purely out of anxiety. I started having flashbacks.

When I was growing up, my mom was sick a lot. She had depressive episodes, and psychotic episodes quite often during my childhood. When I was little, I did my best to be a good girl and stay out of the way. When I got older, I cleaned the house, did laundry and did my very best is school. I was driven to be a very good girl and keep everything in order. It was the only way I could manage my anxiety. I figured that if everything was neat and tidy on the outside, it would help my mother maintain herself on the inside. Of course, things didn't work out that way, but what is a kid supposed to do when she's not even sure what the problem is? 

I think if we had been told, well, make that if I had been told that my mom had a mental illness I would have been better able to handle the chaos going on around me. I'm sure I would have looked up schizophrenia in the library and learned what to expect. It would have helped me recognize that her illness was not because of me, but a chemical imbalance in her brain and her symptoms were the result of those chemicals being out of whack. Instead, I was left on my own to try and figure out what was going on, and like most children, I thought that what was happening with my mother was my fault. I thought she didn't like me. I wasn't pretty enough, I wasn't smart enough or good enough. So, I went out of my way to be good, and quiet, and neat. 

Well, since my sister got sick a month or so ago, these feelings have been coming back. I have to keep the apartment clean and orderly in order to keep the chaos in my head in check. If the house  is messy, then I can't function. Things being out of place leave me discombobulated. My anxiety rises to the level of panic, then I completely fall apart. I had been managing okay for quite a while, but now all those old fears are bubbling up again. What if April gets really sick? What if she becomes disabled or worse, what if she dies? What will I do? Who will look out for me? Who will help Erica and Sean deal with the loss of their mom? I can't do it. I won't be able to. I barely made it through when my parent died. 

So, here I am again. The little girl inside woke up from her slumber and is feeling lost and abandoned once more. The only way to calm her down is to put everything away, and make sure everything is clean and organized. I guess this is something I should speak to my therapist about now that it is apparent that's what's going on. I'm so tired and my body aches. NO amount of Tylenol is helping. I'm in chronic pain. My sister will be 65 on the 30th. I hope she is well by then. I think I'll go sit in the care and cry for a while. I can't let anyone know that I am upset, it will make them upset. I must keep it together in front of others. I must be a good girl. 

Peace- BB 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Am I a Good Neighbor?

 

Today is Sunday, I was having back spasms last night, so I slept on the couch again. I have not spent a single night in my bed all week. In any event, I woke up early. Zelda was on my chest, and the Lord smacked me on the head and said get up and go to early mass. So, I did. I fed Zaybra, got dress and off to church I went. 

I had my breakfast and coffee so I was awake this morning. Today's homily was about being a good neighbor. Today's reading was from Luke chapter 10: 25-37, The parable of the Good Samaritan. All that God wants us to do is love him with all our hearts and minds and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Some people ask "Who is my neighbor?" Well, to my way of thinking my neighbor is anyone I should happen to come across or speak to during the course of a day. That includes everyone. All of mankind is my neighbor. I am to love all people as myself. That's simple enough to follow. 

However, some people make it very difficult to love them. There are some people in this world I would not miss or bat an eyelash if they were to suddenly keel over dead. That's not a kind way to think, I know, but it is true. Additionally, the world is so chaotic and so cruel, that most people mind their own business. This results in people not coming to the aid of their countrymen. This is especially true of the homeless. So many are on the streets, and they are avoided as if they have some dreaded disease. Which in a sense they do. The have the disease of poverty which strikes fear in the hearts of most people. I know I should help, but it is fear that keeps me away. I know this is fear, because it is one of my greatest fears. I am but 2 paychecks away from the street. I could live in my car I guess. But there it is. Instead of showing compassion and thinking there but for the grace of God go I; I walk right by avoiding eye contact. That is my sin. 

I do help my neighbor when I can. I rarely have any money, but I try to help. I've given blood, platelets, donated to a few charities. However, when it comes to giving myself in person, I am lacking. I keep trying to find something to do, but I just don't put forth much effort. So, I guess in some respects I am a good neighbor, but I could really do better. I have to schedule another platelet donation, and find somewhere to volunteer my time. 

Deacon John closed his homily with the theme from Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Won't you please be my neighbor? It struck me that Mr. Rogers was truly talking about the good Samaritan. He's asking us all to be good neighbors, to look to each other with compassion and love. So, will you please be my neighbor? 

Peace, Joy, Love- BB

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: New Chapter

 

They say that your life is like a novel. Each phase is a chapter of your life. So, if that's true, the gothic novel that is my life is entering a new phase. I am going back to school. I know I have said this before, and I have gone back to school on a few occasions. However, this time I did not go with the intent of starting a new career or learning something totally different. This time I decided to pursue a degree that actually means something to me and I'm good at it. 

I will be attending Georgia Southern University starting on August 13th. I am seeking my bachelor degree in English believe it or not. Why English? Well, for one thing, it is a lost language to my way of thinking. To hear people speak nowadays is horrifying. The lack of basic grammar and pronunciation is astounding. Vocabulary is staggeringly absent. If you ask most people what a synonym is, they will say it is a sticky bun. It's astonishing. 

But it is not only my love for proper English, which I admit I don't always use, that calls me in this direction. I love to write. I love putting my words together in a cohesive manner that stimulates the imagination. I love making my stories sound lyrical and intriguing. I am an English nerd. I owe it all to my high school English teachers, Diane Fimiano, Barbara Speece, and Dr. Betty Falkensten. Those three ladies opened up my mind and spirit to embrace a nicely constructed sentence, and the obscure vocabulary word. However, I can't go without acknowledging my 5th grade teacher Mrs. Robinson who introduced me to the Chronicles of Narnia. Blew my mind!! We had a story hour then, and she would select a book to read to us. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is the first book that ever set my mind on fire. I was ignited to a love of reading. I would spend hours in the library reading the synopses of books to see if they stimulated the colors of my imagination. If they did, I would check them out and take them home for a week of reading. Some were classics and award winners. Others were just novels that captured my interest. I would take out 5 or 6 books a week. 

As I grew older, I still spent time at the library. I would sit and read a chapter before checking the book out. I don't know what reading level I had, but it was pretty high. I read young adult, adult and like I said some classics. I never made a list of the books that I wanted to read. I just started at the beginning of the alphabet in the fiction section an worked my way through until I found my 6 books and took them home. 

This continued until the bipolar got the better of me. It ruined concentration and comprehension for me for quite a while, and sometimes I still struggle. I don't go to the library anymore. It got to be too overwhelming. But lately, with school on the horizon, my interest in reading has risen once again. '

I have 2 classes this semester, English 2100, and History 2110. We'll be reading some classics in my English class and writing essays, etc. I'm looking forward to it. It may actually be fun. Plus I will have something to do in my spare time. I should graduate in about a year. I think so, anyway. I'll need to check my schedule.  In the meantime it's back to the old grind at Delta. 

Peace, Joy, Love - BB

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Nice Date, No Sparks

 

So, I finally had a date. I had been talking to a new guy named Robert. We talked on the phone a few times and he made me laugh. We made arrangements to meet at the Barnes & Noble around halfway between our 2 houses. We each drove around 35 minutes to Cumberland. I had never been there before so I was kind of nervous, but I figured I'd look around for a book, and maybe we could go to the cafe and talk. 

Well, I got dressed, and smelled good. Put some makeup on, and took the time to look cute. Him, not so much. He looked like he had just got finished cutting his grass, which I think he did. For some reason, he dropped his car off at the repair shop to get new tires and alignment. He walked to the bookstore in 93 degree heats, so he smelled a little sweaty. He had on loose gray Bermuda shorts, and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. There was no effort to look nice. He kind of looked like he was running errands and stop off to meet me while he was getting his car repaired. Needless to say, I was not impressed. I was so hopeful. Because I am a nice woman, I spent a few hours with him. I did get a book at the store, and then drove us over to the food court at the mall across the street. We got lunch and talked. He's nice and very funny, but he talks fast and a LOT. I didn't get a chance to talk much, not that I had a lot to say. Anyway, while he was talking, I noticed he was missing a front tooth!!!! Strike 2!! After lunch, we walked around the mall and talked some more. It was okay. I was not my outgoing friendly self. There weren't any sparks, no chemistry. It's like we've been married for 40 years and we go to the mall. 

Anyway, he walked me to my car and we said good bye. I called to let him know I got home okay and he was still waiting for his car. He said he'd call when he got home, but he never did. I thought about calling him, but I decided I am the one who should be pursued, so I didn't. I haven't heard from him today. I can't say I'm sorry. I got more satisfaction cleaning the bathroom today. I am now doing laundry. I was thinking about things while I was at the Walmart. I don't think I'll see him again as I didn't feel anything. I don't think he did either. I would just be going out with him to date someone, and I'd rather not. So, back to the dating site. I got a message from some guy named Sergio, but I had to block him because he came across as a dating scammer with his rush to romantic talk. I've played that game before so no thanks. 

There were a couple of other guys I messaged that I may talk to again. I'll have to take another look. I think I might try a white guy. More chance of romance. Seems most of the black guys are too sexual and predatory. I just want a nice date somewhere. Robert could have taken me to see Jurassic Park, but he saw it with his brother!!!!! What a boob. Anyway, on to the next guy. At least I got lunch. 

Peace, Joy, Love - BB

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Monster Within

 

Okay, so things fell apart for me today. It actually started last week, when I was having a hard time at work. I have said often that I don't like my job. Then with April being home sick for a week, I was quite upset on the inside. I started thinking all sorts of things. Now that she's being evaluated for Parkinson's disease, things got dark very quickly. 

My mind basically took off on a tangent of negative thoughts and patterns. Needless to say, the sleeping monster, bipolar, woke up with a very bad attitude. This wasn't a case of the blues. Today disintegrated into full blown hysterics. I couldn't breathe, had palpitations, a screaming headache, and diarrhea. I cried miserably for an hour. 

I even thought of harming myself. I thought maybe if I cut, it would make sense of all the chaos in my head. I flirted briefly with taking an overdose. However, those thoughts were swiftly cut down by the thought of going inpatient. I vowed that I would never go inpatient again. The only way I'm going in the hospital is if it's for a medical problem. My days of inpatient mental stays is done. I call my therapist and my psychiatrist. I talked to my therapist a little while ago. Fortunately, she was able to talk me off the ledge. She reminded me that the things I'm going through are mere distractions that are causing me to lose sight of my goals. I've been through these feelings before, and I have the artillery to fight back, so that's what I'm going to do. First thing she had me do is list my distractions. Then she had me come up with 2 positive things. 

1. David ghosted me. While I wasn't in love or fully invested, it hurt my feelings more than I was willing to admit.  

    A. I did have a relationship that would have broken my heart

    B. I'm talking to someone else, and may have a date this weekend. 

2. My sister's health. 

    A. I still have my sister

    B. I can spend more time with her

3. I don't like my job

    A. I have a well-paying job

    B. I have fabulous benefits

4. My own health is declining

    A. I'm not bed-ridden

    B. I have scheduled my wellness screenings this month

All these distractions have pulled my focus away from the things that really matter. I'm going back to school next month as an English major. I will use my degree to climb out this rut I am. I will get a better job with higher pay. Whether it be with Delta or somewhere else. Also, I need to keep pushing to stay positive and on point because I am a boss lady. I also need to get myself together to date effectively. I may have plans with a guy named Robert. He made me laugh this morning. That's a big plus for him. I will not be offering too much information. I will not have sex right away. I'm like a kitten. I will be cautious in my approach until I know someone better. I still have my 4/4/26 folder. I'm just manifesting a different vision. 

I do feel better now. I think I may actually have a good day tomorrow. I'm getting Invisalign. Also, getting a bridge as implants give me the willies. So, better health to me. 

Peace- BB