Wednesday, December 16, 2020

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Holiday Letter to Mom

 


Dear Mom, 

Well, Christmas is 9 days away.  I feel a little lost right now. I want so much to call you and get your advice, hear your laugh, and get a phone hug.  But, now, more than ever, Im hit with the fact that you are gone.  There are no Christmas cookies this year.  The smell of baked goods in our apartment comes from candles.  I thought about baking, but it just hurts too much.  I go buy the cookie ingredients, and the sugars and I start to cry.  I've been thinking of something that I could do to honor your memory.  

I've decided to watch your favorite movies so I could hear you laughing in the corners of my mind.  Erica had a good idea.  She said I should buy something and donate it.  I just might do that, like buy a turkey for someone at your church.  I'll have to contact Angela about it.

Anyway Mom, a lot has happened since I last wrote.  I'm not talking to Tony anymore.  He was very sketchy when it came to us getting together.  This was after 5 months of texting 2 or 3 times a day.  One day, I asked him to call me, and he never did.  I decided not to chase him, and see if he ever would reach out, but he didn't.  It's funny, I thought I was in love.  Anyway, after about 3 weeks, I moved on.  I stayed on my own for about a month.  Then, I met Brad. 

Brad is 49, divorced and white.  He's an average middle-aged white guy, but he still has his hair.  He has blue eyes and brown hair.  He's about 6 feet with a bit of belly.  We texted for about a month, and finally met in October.  He's very nice, and he thinks I'm beautiful.  When I'm with him, I feel sexy as hell.  We have had sex.  It's amazing.  I feel free, and not ashamed of my body. I'm not in love with him, yet.  But we talk about a lot of things, and we are gradually finding out each other's quirks.  He has a good job, with great money.  He has his own home in Athens.  I think you would like him. 

I'm working at Amazon as a sortation associate.  I like my job, but to be honest the bloom has faded from the rose.  I'm dreaming about packages, and warehouses.  Everywhere I look, there are boxes waiting to be sorted and placed into routing bags for delivery.  Even with my sleeping pills, I dream about it.  

I notified SSA about my job, and I got a letter from them today saying my disability will continue for 6 more months.  I was given a 9 month work trial.  So, I get to keep my benefits until June 2021.  I also got a check from Uncle Bill today for 2k, that is a gift from Aunt Berta.  I've decided to save it toward a new Subaru Ascent.  It's a really nice SUV that I've driven a few times as a loaner for when my car was in the shop.  I love that car.  There's plenty of room for everyone and their stuff.  

I'm down to once a month for therapy sessions and once every 3 months for psychiatrist visits.  I've been making a lot of decisions and figuring things out for myself.  I'm not so needy anymore.  I've finally developed those coping skills I've been trying to learn for the past 30 years.  

Zelda the cat is just fabulous.  She is the kitty I've always wanted.  She's fun, affectionate and smart.  She loves to play fetch.  Zuko thinks she's pretty great, but Zabra can do without her most of the time.  We are trying to do a rent to own house, and found one we love.  We're just waiting to hear back from the agent.  When we get settled, I want to get another cat and Erica wants a dog.  She wants a Samoyed.  It's a Nordic breed, medium-sized and fluffy.  I hope we get the house.  It's gorgeous, you would love it.  

Well, I guess that's all for now.  I just wanted to catch you up on all I've been doing.  I really miss you.  I've seen you pop in for visits just to check on me by way of a cardinal.  I say hi, but you usually don't stay long.  I saw you the other day, you stayed for a while.  That was nice.  I hope Aunt Berta is settling in okay.  I'm sure you were glad to see her again.  Tell her thank you for the gift.  I miss her too.  As always, tell grandmom, grandpop, nana, poppop, Uncle Millard and Aunt Neatsy I said hello.  Things just aren't the same without you.   I love you mommy, now and for eternity.  

B

Tuesday, October 6, 2020

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Amazon Woman

 


Well, I got a new job.  I now work at Amazon in Buford.  I'm an Amazonian.  I started on Friday 10/2/2020.  My hours are 1:20 am to 11:50 am Friday through Monday.  That's four 10 hour days.  The job is physical.  It doesn't take much thought, but its hard on the feet and back.  I'm on my feet the entire of time. 

We get two 20 minute breaks and a 1/2 hour lunch.  We get paid for breaks, but have to clock out for lunch.  I make $16 per hour.  So, I'll be making about $640 a week.  That's $2500 a month, so I'll be stopping my disability if I get hired permanently.  Right now, I'm just seasonal.  So, I have a job until the first of the year, unless I fuck it up.  

So far, my mental state has been good.  I haven't been cycling, and my mood is pretty stable.  I was a little concerned about the hours, but surprisingly, I am getting up on time and making it to work. 

The people there are really nice, and very helpful.  No one has yelled at me for asking the same question over again.  So far, I have done all the jobs except inducting.  Inductors are the people who take the packages off the truck and put them on the main conveyor belt.  I think so, anyway.  I've been a diverter, a stow buffer (sorter), and a stower.  A stower is the person who puts the packages in the designated bags which are later picked to go on carts for the assigned routes.

The drivers pick up their packages according to their assigned routes around 9 am.  Once the packages are picked, they are placed on carts and moved to the designated staging area for the drivers to load.  That time of day is organized chaos.  There are loaded carts being pulled to the staging area, the drivers are pulling their vans into the warehouse (they are beeping).  And the aisle traffic cops are screaming "cart coming out, cart coming in!!!!"  It's an awful din.  Thankfully, my PTSD is under control, because the noise would have sent me spinning a year ago. 

Mainly though, I get home, put my feet up, get something to eat, and watch a little television before going to bed around 4 pm.  I sleep a dreamless sleep because I am physically tired.  It's nice to be tired from a hard day's work instead of depression.  Also, I'm getting a workout.  I've lost a few pounds already, which is a little unfortunate, because my underwear is too big, lol. 

The company supplies all the PPE, and they even gave us a $122 credit with Zappos for shoes.  Mine should be here sometime today.  I'm also expecting some rain boots that I ordered from DSW.  I have to go to the post office to pick up a package, and to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things.  

Some really big news?  I met a new guy on Facebook dating.  His name is Brad.  He's not bad looking.  He's a sales manager from Athens.  Anyway, he's a white guy.  I think I'm done with black guys.  I have yet to meet a good one.  Tony was nice, but he played games in the end.  I don't have the time or inclination for that bullshit.  I want to get married.  Brad may come here this week to meet.  I hope I look okay.  I am kind of lumpy, and I have so many scars.  My legs have taken a beating from the cats.

I did get soe sexy underwear, so if things progress, I'll be wearing something better than my regular cotton panties, lol.  Oh well, I guess that's all for now.  I can't think of anything else.  I hope I continue to feel well.  If I do, I may only need to see my therapist once a month.  That will be the first time that ever happened.  I think I'll do my nails now.  #peace #joy #love - B 


Sunday, September 27, 2020

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Who are you?

 


So, I haven't worked in a month.  I suppose I should feel guilty about it, but I don't.  On top of that, my temporary insurance license is about to expire on the 29th.  I had the money for it, but I spent it on clothes.  Very irresponsible I know, but I really don't care.  Ok, maybe I care a little.  I have justified my lack of work ethic as not being good at selling.  

I'm not good at selling.  I do not have that ability to talk people into things.  My feeling is, if you don't want it, fine by me.  Just go your own way and live your life.  I tried to care, I really did.  I liked talking to the people but I was not ruthless enough.  I couldn't apply the right pressure tactics to get people to buy life insurance, even if I knew they needed it.  I did sell a few policies though.  But, I got shot down, and chewed out a couple of times.  

I am starting a job in an Amazon distribution center Friday morning.  I will be working 1:20 am to 11:50 am.  I work Friday through Monday, 10 hours a day.  I haven't had a full-time job in 10 years so we'll see how this goes.  Also, with my back issues,  I'll have to wait and see if I can handle the physicality of the job.  I got some really comfy, supportive work shoes, so that might help.  Also, I still have my back braces from my surgery last year, so I will be using one of them at work.  

I am still trying to get things together to go back to school to finally get my degree is something.  At first, I was all gung-ho about biology and then medical school.  Now, however, I'm thinking of becoming a writer.  It comes easy to me, especially when manic.  I already have a few stories floating in my head.  I just need to get it down on paper.  I'll start with just an outline and work from there.  I think that's how it works.  People have told me that I have a gift for writing.  I may as well give it a shot, right? 

So, who am I?  I have no idea.  I'm a woman with a lot of hopes and dreams.  I'm desperate to have someone to love, and be loved in return.  I want success, but not at the price of my peace.  Why is that so difficult for me to find?  I'm running out of time.  

I guess I'll keep searching for myself until I find me.  I may be a doctor, a writer or something else entirely different.  Who knows?  But, I'm out there some where.  I'll just have to keep looking. In the meantime,  I'll just concentrate on the me I am today. 

Saturday, September 19, 2020

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: In Love

 


Okay, so I'm in love.  He has no idea that I exist.  Which is usually how things go in these sort of things for me.  No, it' not Tony.  He has gone.  I made a simple request that he could not grant.  What was it?  Was I demanding too much?  No, certainly not.  I merely asked the man to call me.  He did not.  So, I let it go. 

I know that seems like such a small thing, but you must understand something.  We had a 5 month text relationship.  I made many attempts to call him.  He is one of those people that never set up his voicemail.  So, I could not leave a message.  I took a step back and looked back at our so-called relationship, and realized that I was always the one to initiate contact.  Well, I said fuck it, I'm not chasing you. 

I think I was sad for a week.  After that, I just kind of shrugged it off and put him in my collection of dickheaads and losers.  I would like for once, to meet a man, and actually date.  No booty calls, no text relationships.  I want a real relationship.  So, what about this guy that I really want to meet and be in love with?  Just a fantasy really, it will never ever happen.  

I won't say who it is lest I make a fool of myself, but he is a beautiful human being.  He's cute, but not to the point of being pretty.  He's just a nice looking guy.  He's kind, generous and kinda shy to those who don't know him.  I would really like to meet and have coffee.  I just want to talk to him really.  

So, why can't I meet him?  Because he lives in NYC most of the time.  He is rather famous too.  No, this isn't just another crush.  I've had plenty of those.  This is more than that.  I respect him.

I don't know why I can't find someone to love.  It doesn't seem like such a big deal.  People fall in love all the time, don't they?  Why not me?  The song, Somebody to Love by Queen, is like my theme song if I had a TV show.   That might be a good idea.  A crazy girl's quest for love in her 50's in the digital age.  It could be funny.  I have to give it some thought.  

Oh well, I guess that's it.  I haven't posted in a while and I just wanted to clear my head.  I wish I had something more profound to say, but sometimes it just doesn't work that way.  Peace, Joy, Love - B 


Tuesday, September 1, 2020

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    

Monday, August 31, 2020

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

Sunday, August 30, 2020

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.

Monday, August 17, 2020

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.  



Saturday, August 8, 2020

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.  

 


Saturday, July 25, 2020

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
  

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

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 

Saturday, July 18, 2020

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