working my recovery

You’d think with as long as I’ve been at this that it might be a bit easier, but it never really is. There’s always the struggle to mend things I’ve broken while manic; the relationships mostly. And there’s the never ending desire for sleep.

I am proud to say that yesterday I was a bit productive AND that I only had to use my squishy panda once. That sounds so silly but it’s huge for me. It’s a good coping skill, don’t get me wrong, but the fact that I only really needed it once is what’s huge.

This morning I’ve been printing and collecting all of the documents I’ll need to have with me when I travel. I asked for advice from friends on Facebook regarding their favorite travel tips and hacks. Y’all are definitely welcome to share, too.

In all I would say that positive progress is being made on damn near all fronts. I’ll take it.

truth hurts

Typing is hard right now. I’m shaking and crying and trying to remember that breathing is the key. Breathe.

The closer I get to going to India the worse my anxiety gets. I’m not much for traveling under the best of circumstances and going half way around the world literally freaks the fuck out of me. Evidently my anxiety is causing me to lean on someone too much.

I want too much. I’m insisting on things, evidently, things that I had no idea were problematic. Oddly enough, until you’re told that someone hates the color blue you probably have no idea, right?

At any rate, there was unpleasantness. I fear there is more to come, though I sincerely hope not. Regardless, the writing is now quite clearly on the wall, large enough for me to read now.

None of us really knows what the future holds. I was told today that someone is not in possession of a magic crystal ball. True dat. What I know about my future is that there is an appointment with the psych doc this afternoon and then there will be some recovery tonight.

The time has come to dust off my bag of tricks. As tempting as it is to fall back on my old “skills” I know they don’t serve me and so I won’t. But honestly, I would near sell my soul for just one Marlboro Ultra Light 100 right now.

Instead I will breathe, squeeze my panda, and hope that I’m wrong about a few things.

brain barf

I’m not feeling like me again and this fucking sucks. It’s been one of those mornings that, for whatever reason, I’m questioning things. All the things.

  • what if every shitty thing a guy has ever said about me really is true?
  • what if I can’t keep my shit together while I’m in India?
  • what if I can’t hack grad school this time?
  • why the hell can’t I stop the hamster wheel and get the fuck off it?
  • why does my body hate me?
  • why do I hate my body?
  • am I actually supposed to be happy?


Needless to say my anxiety is getting the best of me and I’m sick of it. Literally. My digestive system has reached a point where it isn’t tolerating my coffee, nectar of the gods. This is BAD. And I feel like I’m putting too much stress on Lancelot. He’s an amazing guy and deserves someone less frazzled than me.

I need to remind myself of this. And breathe. Breathing is good.

I was able to be productive last night. I got my e-Visa for the trip submitted, I made a small creative thing that I can’t share because it’s a surprise, and I worked on Lancelot’s hat. I have 19 rounds left so it won’t take long.


There’s a ton of stuff I should be doing, like a literal ton. I need to be working on my grad school app, there are million projects around the house, things I need to do to get ready for my vacation, you name it. But here I am. Why?

Because purple aliens don’t wear tinfoil hats.

Actually that isn’t quite true. I’m getting burned out just a little. I’m at that place where I’m trying to do too many things and so some stuff is suffering. Because of this I’m trying to do things a little different. Still hustlin’, just different.

We are obnoxiously cute, yes? Totally yes. We had a wonderful weekend together. Way too much good food, I cooked breakfast, a trip to an Asian market, and a trip to World Market. I may have also gotten him to dance in the living room. Maybe.

Yesterday I had to pretend to be a grown-up again. We went to a conference in Missouri. It was good but it made for a long day.

Today Lancelot and I figured out how to make Facebook video calls between our phones. I’ve scoped out the scene for international calling while I’m in India but I know that NINE DAMN DAYS is too long to go without seeing him at all. So that was really quite nice. I suspect it’s going to make the time between weekends a little easier to handle as well.

Eric has been enjoying the cooler weather and sunshine.




full disclosure

Always be ashamed of throwing temper tantrums that are 100% entirely unnecessary. Always.

So the tantrum happened Saturday night, the first night of the vacation, and things went downhill pretty quick and in an entirely unpleasant yet spectacular way. I won’t go into details but suffice to say I am not proud of the way I behaved. In spite of things dragging on for FOUR INSANELY LONG AND PAINFUL DAYS, there were some fun times.

all I could eat chocolate chip pancakes at McFarlain’s… of which I ate one pancake
cutest Mom ever and I at the Dolly Parton Stampede dinner show… where you eat everything with your hands
Skeeter, the best part of said show
a chump in the mist at Branson Landing

The ABBA Tribute show was awesome and the shopping was phenomenal. Mom got me a gorgeous purple lace shirt that I’m wearing today, something I would never have imagined I could or should wear.

Lancelot and I have since made up and I think Mom and I are back to being ok. Communication seems to be an issue for me right now which is weird given that I’m usually pretty good at it. But no one is perfect and all I can do is try harder.

Oh, also, we had the first meeting to discuss the India trip today. I am excited and terrified all at once. I’ll be on a plane for 14 hours all at once. I will likely have no choice but to pee. Heaven help me.

staring down the barrel of a week off work

You can ask anyone who knows me that I don’t often take time off work. It’s not that my work means that much to me, more that I know I do better with the structure that going to work for 9 hours every day brings. And I do actually love what I do, so that helps. But anyway, more often than not the little HR system sends me a nastygram every few months telling me I’ve got so much vacation time waiting to use that I’m going to stop earning any more.

Well hell.

Part of my dilemma is that I mostly hate to travel. Flying is The Suck and driving Takes Forever. I will say that I prefer to drive because then I’m on my own schedule and I can take as much of my stuff with as I want and I can use a real restroom. I am 41 years old and have yet to use the loo in an airplane. Rather proud of that, actually.

Anyway, traveling with people is much more interesting but it still involves packing and the actual travel and then sleeping in a strange bed and the whole Being Away From Home nonsense.

It’s just not often my thing, ya dig?

So I’ve taken the entirety of next week off work but I don’t really plan to go anywhere. I much prefer to Staycation. I fully intend to be lazy, do some things around the house, maybe do a little shopping, and mostly just breathe. Oh, and knit.

I do think it’s super important to take time away from the daily grind and to recharge the ol’ batteries. If we don’t do that, and put ourselves first now and then, we end up with nothing left to give anyone else.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is that even though my brain is fully capable to running for days on end with next to no food or sleep when I’m not taking my meds and that kind of feels like flying and being on top of the world, it’s really the worst thing ever.

Anyone who tells you that they miss being manic is delusional. Mania is a liar, worse than any cheating lover. For as high as you go you come crashing, hurtling, down twice as fast and far. The end is awful. And it’s not worth a single minute of it.

That’s why next week I will be going to bed at normal hours, eating healthy and wholesome food, and taking care of myself. I need to punch my own damn reset button every now and again.