To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best,
night and day, to make you everybody else
means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight.
~ e.e.cummings

Thursday, February 9

I've moved

Sunday, January 8

I was bad

I took my daughter shopping today to buy her some clothes for her birthday. She’s 13 now so of course anything *I* would buy would never see the light of day. Her best friend and friend’s mom came along and it turned out to be a pretty good mother/daughter excursion.

As I predicted, she liked nothing I suggested. As predicted, I didn’t like a number of the things she liked but in the end we were all satisfied.

I ended up getting two pairs of jeans (which I desperately needed) and one dark red leather jacket made of some of the softest leather I’ve touched in years. Did I need this jacket? NO! Did I *need* this jacket? YES!!! It is SO hot and I look great in it! I feel great in it. Damn, I just feel great!

Invaded ... again

Once again, I have 4 legged furries in my house. Only this kind I don’t particularly like.

This kind kept me up most of the night with the fear they would invade my bed while I was sleeping. Ok… that’s not entirely true. I also had trouble sleeping because I slept the entire day away yesterday but that’s a whole other story. Anyway…

This kind was busy all night making rustling, scritchy-scratchy noises in my bedroom.

This kind made loud scratchy-chewy noises in my living room.

This kind wouldn’t be in my house at all if my cat freakin’ knew he was a cat.

I can’t decide what I hate most, the evidence of my mousey visitors, being awakened by the snap of the trap or disposing of their dead little bodies.

The last one I killed was actually sitting up, looking very alive, and giving me a look that clearly said

“You’ll pay for this Bitch.”

I had nightmares for days.

Saturday, January 7


I spent the past few days being hypomanic and enjoying the heck out of it. I was Fun-O-Manic until yesterday. Then I think I started to cycle... fun and happy if I was engaged in a social interaction but easily went down.

Last night I was upset with a friend for what I honestly feel are valid reasons (and not a result of the cycling and distorted thoughts) but my reaction was way out of line. I was raging inside, I could almost feel myself throwing things even though my hands were empty. Along with panic, that feeling is the worst of them all I think.

I ended up pulling up a blank Word document and channeled some of that anger into a scene for a story (hopefully a novel) that I'm writing while I waited to get a friend's (old boyfriend actually) voice mail. He answered unexpectedly and I told him what was going on. The anger dissolved and when we got off the phone I went back to writing. I should have finished the scene first because writing it was difficult without all that overblown emotion to drive me.

Looking back, I realize I automatically used two coping skills. I vented my anger in a healthy (and productive) way by writing and I turned to someone I trust to help me relax. I didn't even throw anything. I'm proud.

Saturday, December 31

2005 In Review

I stole this idea from Just Me who stole it from someone else. For all I know it could be some endless chain of blogging inspiration.

The first line from the first entry of each month:

  • January: Seeing as how it's the new year and all, it would be appropriate to list some things I'd like to accomplish this year. Not gonna happen...

  • February: So we've all seen those commercials... all these happy folks doing cartwheels and stuff... and then the announcer guy says "Ask your doctor if whatthehellisitforia is right for you".

  • March: Besides the fact that I'm feeling better, a few good things have come out of this psycho leave I've been on:

  • April: I have been completely unmotivated lately.

  • May: My computer crashed... and then my back up one crashed... Talk about hell.

  • June: I've come to the conclusion that sometimes life just sucks and other than that, I've had absolutely nothing noteworthy to say. (side note: I didn’t have anything else to say either. That was my *only* entry for the month)

  • July: I've become a soccer mom.

  • August: They curled together on the couch, his fingers idly playing through her hair while the movie played. (one of the few pieces of my “writing” that I’ve posted)

  • September: Dear PrincessCreativeOne, My ass and I thank you from the bottom of ... well... from the bottom of my ass.

  • October: ***You are*** {insert picture of crayon here} Ya think?? (One of those online quizzes)

  • November: I am the non-custodial parent of two.

  • December: I saw an infomercial for these awhile back - Neorest 600 . I’m all for style and luxury but c’mon – a $3500 toilet?

All in all, pretty boring stuff. I’m not sure the rest of the material is all that great either. As I browse through my blog it’s very clear to me though how my moods fluctuate. Bipolar? “Normal”? Who cares. My musing posts …. Those about things like over-priced toilets and uses for dog hair … are the product of a semi-manic mode. The ranting and ravings are probably, with my luck, the most “normal” I am. Who knows. Who cares. I am who I am and I imagine 2006 will be much like 2005. I have two wonderful children, a couple of really fantastic friends, a job that provides me with a roof over my head and food in my tummy. Life can’t get much better than this.

Happy New Year everyone!

A rant from the other side of planet Bipolar

A lot of you know what I have a very dear friend (I'll call him V) that was my sanity when times were at their worst. He held my hand while I walked the slippery path to wellness, he sat with me when I needed to rest and he chased away my demons. V is a magnet for bipolar chicks. Either that or we're a magnet for him. There are at least two of us actively in his life right now. One is L who I've chatted with a few times.

Every time I chat with L she's going through some crisis. V often says he's never sure which part of the bipolar-coaster she's going to be on. She's usually ranting and raving about how all her friends have abandoned her, how much her life sucks and how there's nothing she can do to make it better. Well you all know me. That kind of pity party doesn't fly long.

About a month ago she went off on a "poor me" rant, I made suggestions which she blew off and when she continued to rant, I lost it. Most of the things she's battling with are things I've been through: loss of a parent, feelings of being orphaned due to stupid family members, social isolation, etc. I told her off big time. There is nothing about me that makes me any more special, lucky, or better than anyone else and if I can do it, anyone else can too.

She messaged me last night asking where V was. I knew he'd just left to go out of town for the weekend but something tells me to keep my relationship with him as private as possible. I just told her that I thought he went out. She then went on about how he wasn't answering her calls and that she'd been trying to reach him and other friends for hours with nobody returning her calls. I was nice and didn't say "Listen, b*tch, he probably needs a break from you. He's been babysitting you for months and is probably sick of it." Do I get points for that?

After going in circles with her I finally told her to write down two things to do: 1) Call the pdoc and bug the living sh*t out of him until he does something and 2) Find a therapist. I told her I wouldn't listen to her whine until she'd done both of those things.

It *IS* exhausting trying to help someone that won't help themselves. I've chased away more friends than I can count when I was depressed and didn't think there was anything I could do to change my life.

I'm going to see V in 3 weeks and I'm already worrying that she's going to find out I'm there, have some crisis and not leave us alone the whole time. She lives 30 miles away from him, I live 1000 miles away. I'm not sure how I'd handle that. Answer the door rumple-haired and naked maybe?

Thursday, December 29

A new year ... a different year?

There are a few things at work that have been bothering me since I got back from psycho-leave. 1) I have been told a few times that I was no longer the {insert my title here}, 2) also told a few times that I was no longer a manager, and 3) I now work under the “Office Manager” who used to be a lateral employee. I am the only mid-level office employee that works under her. I came back from leave and assumed the same job responsibilities I had before leave and at the same pay. Discrimination? Tough call.

We have a new GM starting after the first of the year. I’ve worked with him in the past at this same company and honestly didn’t care for him. He was a chauvinist pig … or perhaps I just thought so because my pre-Lithium self had pretty shitty judgment about people. Who knows, who cares.

The GM spent a couple days in the office this week getting his office set up and acquainting himself with procedures, etc. He called him into his office and told me that the Office Manager as well as some rumors said that I’m not happy working under her. Yay for me! I said “I’m not. I feel that I’m an equal and that there have been things that have happened that I feel are demeaning and possibly discriminatory. If I had been out for any other medical reason I believe I would have come back to the same title and managerial position.” I also told him that I’d never had any issues with her and that I thought we worked together well. I imagine she had a different story to tell.

Then I asked him what he thought of me working under the Office Manager. He said “It’s not normal for someone of your position.”

He wants three months to get settled in and get a feel for things before he makes any changes. I can wait. I just hope he continues to be as fair as he appeared to be today.

Monday, December 26

Partially complete

I’ve become incredibly lazy about blogging lately. It’s gotten to the point where I hear the word blog and I think “Blog? Don’t I have one of those?” So sad. The thing is, I really only feel inspired to write when I’m hypomanic, which doesn’t happen *nearly* often enough for my tastes. When it does happen I find a whole boatload of amusing things I have to record somewhere. I can sit down and whip out the best 6 or 7 paragraphs of a novel I’ve ever written. Unfortunately those moments are often as fleeting as they are elusive. Last night I wrote an epilogue to a novel that I have only the shakiest of plots for. I wonder if there’s a business for this: half written stories and one liners that would be great band names and book titles. Hmmmm….

Christmas Blessings

Another single parent Christmas has passed and once again, my ex-husband outdid me in the present department. The kids didn’t seem to mind but it bothers me a bit. The money I pay each week for child support is for them and I have no doubt that he uses it as it’s intended. The sad part is that it seems “their” money has shifted entirely from my hands to his. I’m the one that has to say “We can’t afford that right now” all the time. If it hadn’t of been for the generosity of two wonderful friends my kids wouldn’t have gotten half of what they did. It feels amazing to be so well loved. In this I am blessed.

Tuesday, December 13

Yes Waif, there is a Santa Claus

I'd just returned to my office after a long boring meeting I hadn't wanted to attend and on my desk was a small Priority Mail envelope. I recognized his handwriting immediately and my heart skipped at least a few beats. For 8 years prior to being diagnosed I was involved in a long distance, mostly internet based relationship with a married man. Our love is stronger than anything I'd ever experienced but due to circumstances beyond our control we were forced to sever the relationship. He has a son struggling with leukemia and I was struggling to get well. We couldn't be there for each other and it was easier to part than it was to try to stay together.

We've started talking again over the past few months and have renewed our friendship but nothing more. He remains married for the sake of his son and in this situation I believe it to be the best course of action. Besides, I'm not one to question his judgment.

I called him immediately to ask permission to open the package but I got his voice mail. Unable to resist I tore into the envelope. Inside was a Christmas wrapped box. My heart skipped another beat or two. A present. For me! I've been a little depressed about the holidays. Being broke sucks... only having my kids for Christmas Eve day sucks but that's the way of divorce life.

Inside the box was a beautiful gold locket with a note saying that I could keep pictures of my children close to my heart. He always did know what was so very dear to me. Also enclosed were two gift cards for my kids. The tears streamed down my cheeks. Did he know I was so broke I didn't think I could buy presents for my kids? He always knows.

I sit here now with tears pooling in my eyes. I met Santa today.