Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Critical Condition

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B    

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Lies

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Six Months

 

Dear Mom, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Birthday Girl

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Stream of Consciousness

 

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

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

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

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

 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Caffeine and Nicotine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love -B

  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B 

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

Dear Mom, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B   

  

 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Trust Your Gut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Let Me Off This Ride

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace Joy Love - B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Best

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love- B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Descent

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B