Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Trust Your Gut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Let Me Off This Ride

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace Joy Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Best

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love- B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Descent

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B

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

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Sunday, Funday??

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Life So Far Without You

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Hidden Anger

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The New Normal

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Spring Cleaning

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Letter to My Mom

Dear Mom,

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Mom

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B