Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Fractured Fairytales

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love, Joy - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Let it Be

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love - B

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

 

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

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

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

 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Finding Harmony

                                    

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Unending Waves

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

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

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

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

how long it’s been. 

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

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

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

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

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

knew it was just a panic attack. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tricks on me?

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

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

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

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

house is messy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a momentary feeling.

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

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

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

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

Ugh!!

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Back to Reality

 

Tuesday 12:13 pm

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

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

Saturday 12:32 pm 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Joy, Love -B 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Bull by the Horns

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Goodbye Adele

 

Dear Adele, 

We used to call you Del. At one time you were my friend, but that was a very brief time and probably you were being fake. Why am I writing you after 40 years? Why should I write to you after everything you've put me through back then? It's precisely because of your terrorizing I'm writing to you. I wanted to finally tell you what I think of you and say goodbye forever. I'm also putting the feelings I have for you aside and get over my mistrust of strangers, which you caused. 

I was 5 years old when we moved to Ambler. I was lonely and scarred and only had my cousins to play with at the time. I was introduced to a little girl up the street named Charletta. We became fast friends. Was that why you hated me so? I took your best friend away? At any rate, you succeeded in turning the other neighborhood kids away from me by spreading lies that I was talking about them. You expertly played the whole he said, she said game. How could I win? I didn't know how to play the game. 

I went and found another friend named Peggy. She was a white girl from up the street. You said that I acted like a white girl, and thought I was better that everyone else. More lies were spread. Eventually, I stopped going out to play with anyone. I stayed in my own back yard and played with my toys. 

Going to school became a daily exercise in terror. You and your crew were always waiting for me to get off the bus and begin my walk home where you would walk behind me calling me names. I started stopping by the bank where my mom worked on my way home, so you would leave me alone and my mom would make sure I was safe. 

Then came the day you told everyone you were going to kick my ass. I was convinced that you were going to kill me. I got off the bus and ran to the bank, but my mom was not there. My sister came and walked me home all the while you and a crowd of kids taunted and teased me the whole way home. My mom eventually told your mom what had been going on all those months and in the end it was you who got the ass whipping. You were also told to stay away from me, and grounded for a month. 

I don't know for sure, but it is my feeling that ass whippings were a regular thing for you. However, that's not my problem. The unhappiness you felt in your life did not give you the right to terrorize me to the point those scars still show. I grew up thinking that everyone was false and a predator. It's because of what you did I had a hard time trusting people. But, I'm here to tell you that I am through with feeling that way. I release you and your terror from my mind. Do I forgive you? Yes, I do. I forgive you in order to move on and practice love and compassion for my fellow humans. 

So Del, goodbye. I hope life was kind to you. - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Notes from the Inside

 

I got a weird Christmas gift to myself. 7 days in possibly the worst mental hospital in which I've ever been. I've been feeling pretty wonky the last couple of months and it all came to a head on December 7th. I felt like I was losing control and actually had thoughts of suicide. I had no plans, of course. In fact, I had previously made plans and goals for 2023 only a few weeks before my ideation. 

Unfortunately, I got very overwhelmed by life and started having panic attacks. I stopped sleeping, and spent most of my days cleaning house. It's the only thing that relaxes me. Well, I don't know if relax is the right word. I suppose I mean to say it burns off my manic energy. However, on Tuesday the 13th, I went to the grocery store near our house, and as I was waiting to pull out of the parking lot I just started wondering what would happen if I just drove out into the middle of traffic and let someone hit me. I shook it off immediately, but still the intrusive thoughts wouldn't stop. 

I called my psychiatrist whom I had just seen the Thursday before, and explained what was going on with me. I was told that the doctor wasn't available but she would get back to me. That never happened. I called my new therapist, Leslie, who is fabulous by the way. She told me to go to the ER because I was in crisis. So, after some convincing, I went to my local ER. They recommended I voluntarily commit myself or they would do it. I wanted a hospital close by, so I picked a hospital called Lakeview Behavioral Health Hospital. 

From the moment I got there, I knew it was a mistake. It was a dark, gloomy, cheerless place with all the decoration and approachability of a prison. I had to wait for 6 hours to be admitted, and was then admitted to the acute adult unit, which is for people over 50. It was horrible. The rooms are semi-private and I was pair with a racist, homophobic "Karen". Her sense of entitlement was not to be believed. She was a mean, small minded, bitter woman who was convinced everyone was against her, by the time she left, we all were. 

The food was unrecognizable, greasy and nauseating. Several people got sick with vomiting, and diarrhea from the food. Most of the time, the vegetables were so overcooked, you couldn't tell what vegetable it was. There were several diabetics in the ward, but we didn't get a special diet. I had to kind of guess what was safe to eat. 

Finally, on the 21st, they let me go. My medication was adjusted, I'm now on 6 psych meds. They added Vistaril to my meds. So, now I'm on 2 antipsychotics. Woohoo! 

Being home the past few days has been kind of weird. I'm back to only sleeping a few hours a night. I was sleeping fine in the hospital, even though the bed was like sleeping on a slab of concrete. My back is now shrieking with pain. Sometimes, I can't walk completely upright. If I try to walk normally, it feels like I'm going to snap right in half. I was supposed to have an appointment with a back specialist on the 19th, but obviously didn't make it. Now, I have to wait until January. I was hoping to see him before the year was out because I've met my out of pocket for my health insurance. 

I made my mom's Christmas cookies today. They're not as nice looking as last year because I was rushed. Leslie wanted a picture, but I didn't take any. I made with them as love as I could muster, but I didn't feel my mom with me this time. Plus, I was tired. I've been up since 2:30 am this morning. 

I'm seeing another therapist too. She's going to see me 3 times a week for more intensive treatment. We talked yesterday for over an hour. I think she's going to be a really good fit. 

I was denied FMLA at work because I haven't been there that long. But, I an ADA leave request in motion now. In the meantime, I have no money, and we're behind on rent again. As soon as I'm done here, I'm going to have to go make a request from St. Vincent de Paul for the second time. 

I'm not going to midnight mass of Christmas services. I masturbated last week, and gossiped. I didn't get a chance to go to confession so I can take communion. It's going to be so crowded, I'd probably have an anxiety or panic attack. So, I guess that's it then. That's what's been going on, but I'm holding on to my faith. I don't know if I'll have a job to go back to, so I'm looking for something new. I want to get back to veterinary reception, but only for a company that gives good benefits and will pay me well. 

Merry Christmas

Peace, Joy, Love - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: That Old Familiar Feeling

 

Well, here we go again. I'm adrift in a sea of emotions. I don't know whether to go ahead and sink, or try to swim my way to shore. I'm kind of tempted to sink. I'm tired again. I'm tired of trying to remain positive and keep going. It's all the same. Every day is the same. I have no variety, nothing special going on in my life. I know it sounds like bitching and moaning, and I shouldn't do it. But, every once in a while, I need to let my guard down and just feel my feelings. Right now, I feel like going to bed for a month. 

Today wasn't especially bad. It has been quite ordinary. I woke up, and started to get ready for work. But then, after I got out of the shower, I thought why bother? My being there isn't going to make a big difference to anyone. In fact, my being around makes no difference at all. So I called out. I kind of regretted it for about a minute. I realize that I am sabotaging myself, but that's nothing new. That's what I do. 

It's a shame really. I was very excited about this job. But, it turns out, I'm not that good at it. My quality scores suck, and I can't keep up with the number of calls I get. The only thing I have going for me is that I'm a very nice person to talk to on the phone. I guess that's why they keep me around for the time being. But, soon that will end. I suppose I need to take a hard look at myself and figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life, such that it is. 

I've been thinking a lot about my mom and dad lately. I want to be with them and talk with them. I want a hug from my mom and a hug from my dad. I want to talk to my grandparents. I want their advice. I recently started buying Constant Comment tea. It was my Grandmom's favorite. Every time I have a cup, I think of her. If only I had a piece of my Mom's orange cake to go with it, everything would be perfect. 

Why am I feeling so melancholy? I don't know. I always feel cozy in the fall, but not this year. This has been another bad year. So much stress and too many problems. We finally caught up on the rent, but I'm so behind on everything else, my money problems could only be solved by some kind of financial windfall. So, I'm under the gun. As is my habit, instead of rallying to fight the good fight, I shut down and pretend everything will be fine. 

Right now, I have a headache and my feet hurt. That's all just a psychosomatic reaction to stress. I also started eating my anxiety. I can't seem to stop shoving things into my mouth. I'm eating bread, crackers, toast and anything that's edible. 

I've puttered around the house, smoked too much and watched empty TV. I don't know what to do with myself. I've painted my nails every other day. I did finally make an appointment with my new therapist. I see her on the 9th. I just feel like a nothing. I thought these feelings were finally in my past. I'm tired, so tired. 

I want to sleep forever.  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Get Back to Where You Once Belonged

 

So, my therapist, Kristy has disappeared. After multiple calls and texts, I have not heard back from her. I figure either she is taking a sabbatical or quit. I don't know. But, I believe you are supposed to notify your patients before you just vanish off the face of the earth. I am currently  seeking a new therapist. I thought this time, I would try a black woman. I've had white therapists my entire life. Two of them were men. That was awkward to say the least. 

I found a list of black therapist on the Psychology Today website. I saw one bio I like a lot, so I emailed her to check availability. One reason I am trying to get back into therapy is I'm feeling really stuck in my life right now. I don't feel like I'm moving forward, and I think I'm actually moving backwards. I've thought of suicide a couple of times in the past couple of weeks. I wasn't thinking of actually doing it, but the thought hasn't popped in my head in quite a long while so it concerns me. 

I was doling out my pills for the week and actually wondered what would happen if I just took the 30 or so Trazadone I had in the bottle. Of course, this was a week when I was severely lacking sleep, so I guess that had something to do with it. Also, the whole diabetic disaster and hospitalization didn't help. I was also depressed when I went in the hospital. 

Well, that's all gotten a lot better. I'm getting an insulin pump I think, so I won't have to inject myself anymore. I don't really mind it, it's just kind of distracting. Half the time, my blood sugar is too low anyway. I have to eat a mini candy bar every once in a while or grab some orange just to keep my glucometer from beeping. The whole business of eating has become quite bothersome really. 

I'm not enjoying eating very much anymore. I like breakfast, but I feel like I'm on a timer when it comes to lunch. I don't eat dinner until 8:15 at night. Once I'm finished, I just putter around for a few hours until it's time to go to bed. It seems all I do now is get up, work, and go to bed. I squeeze in some meals in between. The weekends are crammed with chores that I can't do during the week. I try to relax on Sundays, but I start to get anxious around 3 pm because I know Monday is coming. 

Well, I have to go. Time to log on. I don't want to work today. Ugh!! 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Just When I Thought I Was Fine...Nope!!!

 

            Let's face it the past few months have been crap. I have been broke because our rent went up, I wasn't able to pay a couple of months. I thought we were okay, but it was after I interrupted a secret meeting of April and Erica I found out the awful truth. We were about $6000 behind, and close to eviction. Keep in mind this is not the first secret discussion between those two. I confronted Erica in the car one day because she was always upset and I wanted to know why she felt she couldn't come to me. 

She told me that most of their discussions were about me. Apparently, I was correct when I was feeling as though I was a burden on them and they didn't want me around. So there you go. It was out in the open. How did it make me feel? Not that much different. I started to feel bad, but I was like fuck it. Anyway, I told her if that was how they felt the least they could have done was tell me the truth, and let me help figure out a way to amend my sins. 

It seems as I am a burden to people. Okay, I'll own that. I am a dependent person. That's probably never going to change unless I hit the lottery and give everyone a chunk of money and tell them to go fuck themselves. However, I'm not that that type of person, no matter how much I try to be. I am terminally nice and kind. I smile at people, say hello and hold doors open for people. I can't help it, I'm an empath. You just can't turn that kind of thing off and on like a faucet. I have always felt the things other people are feeling. It's exhausting, quite frankly. 

At any rate, I have been paying $1350 in rent for the past 4 months in an attempt to make up my part of the past due rent. I think this month I will only have to pay my usual $700, but I'll have to ask. I'm late for my car payment and my personal loan is seriously past due. I've made payment arrangements on that. I'll be able to catch up on my car this month. That's the hope anyway. 

To top off my continuing financial woes, I was in the hospital last month for a week. Somehow or another, my blood glucose soared to over 700. Also, I had a very painful rash all over my lady parts. I went to my regular doctor who only gave me hydrocortisone. That only made my blood sugar higher. Finally, I became slightly delirious one day and called Erica at work. She called April and then April took me to the emergency room. I was in there for 5 days on an insulin drip. No one visited me, no one called me. I was in my hospital room all alone. I didn't cry though, I just thought a lot about my mom. She would have hitch hiked to get to me, and would have stayed with me all day. My mom was my ride or die. I miss her everyday. There's a star that comes out every night that I call mom. I talk to her sometimes. Sometimes, I imagine that it's her taking the time to check on me. 

After I got out of the hospital, I had to get a continuous blood glucose monitor that's attached to my body and read my sugar levels 24/7. I've seen my endocrinologist every week for the past month. My sugar is finally under control. I switched primary care physicians because my old doctor just dismissed me about the rash and the fact that I was peeing every 10 minutes. So, I found a new doctor and he is fabulous. He takes me seriously and treats my symptoms aggressively. In fact, I have to get x-rays for my back,  because he thinks the constant abdominal pain I have is radiating from my back. I swear, if I have to have more back surgery, I'm going to scream. But, we'll see. It'll probably mean that I have to go back to physical therapy. YUCK!!

Actually, things are better between April, Erica and I. They don't have secret conversations about things having to do with the apartment and money issues. Since I've been contributing more, they are much more cordial. I'm not feeling any particular way about it. I'm just a lot less tense that's for sure. 

The job is okay. The thrill is gone, however. I'm on the phone for 9 hours a day. My office is still my bedroom, and I stay in here almost 24 hours a day. I'd like to get out of the house once in a while. Sometimes after I get off work at 8 pm, I take a drive for a couple of miles to blast my music and feel the wind in my face. I really don't like driving at night, but I don't have much choice. I don't see too great anymore. 

My eyesight has started fading about 3 weeks ago. I suspect it's from my sugar levels being so high, but I can't see without my glasses anymore. I used to only have to use them for reading, but now I need them to watch TV, driving, and even looking at my phone. My eyes are completely blurry without them. I made an eye doctor appointment for next Tuesday. I hope it goes well. 

I don't  want you to think I have no one at all to talk to, because there's my Aunt Gloria back  in Pennsylvania. She has taken over as my mother figure. She's my dad's cousin, but since she was older than us, we call her aunt. Anyway, she calls me once or twice a week just to check on me and see how I'm doing. We end up talkin about all kinds of stuff for 30 minutes or more. It's nice to have her around. 

My therapist ghosted me. Now I  guess I better find a new one. I really don't need one that much, I guess I just want someone to check in with once a month. I'm not really depressed. I'm not happy, but I'm not exactly sad either. I'm kind of in the middle of the road. Truthfully, I guess I really don't care. Except for money, I don't worry too much. I just want to get enough money to pay off my bills which amounts to about 35K. 

Oh well, when you wish upon a star I guess. Actually, I think old Jiminy Cricket sold us a load of shit, but I am trying to remain optimistic. Again I can't  help it. 30 some years in therapy, I managed to reprogram my brain. I don't think too negatively anymore. I know where it leads. I have no desire to go down that hole again. So, when I start to feel a bit blue, I take a nap, and use positive imagery to go someplace else in my mind. In fact, that's the technique I'll be using tonight when I go to bed. 

So, I guess I am okay. Not great, but okay. As the saying goes:

I'M FINE

IT'S FINE

EVERYTHING'S FINE!!!

Peace, Joy Love - B