love in the time of bipolar

Love is hard, it’s really fucking hard when your worst enemy is your own brain.

I’ve been married (and divorced) three times. All told that spanned the years of my life from 18 until 39. I don’t regret the second husband as much as the other two, but still, not the man for me. And that was something that had to be learned the hard way.

Some of what I’ve learned is that if I’m going to be happy I need to feel like it’s ok to be true to who I am. I need to be able to express myself and participate in the hobbies I enjoy, eat the food I like, and spend time with my friends. I also need to be able to look like “me,” whatever that means at the time.

I’ve also realized that it’s important that the person I’m with includes me in their life. I need to meet some friends, family, learn about their interests and be included where possible.

But it’s not always easy to love someone like me. I have the ability to experience every human emotion at the same time. I’m capable of mentally moving at frightening speeds, and then coming to a crashing halt. I shake terribly some days, able to feed myself only with a spoon. My memory is shot.

The right person sees past all of the necessary medications, doctor visits, therapy sessions, crying for no apparent reason, laughing like a loon… Looks past all of that to the soul inside and sees the need to be held and loved and comforted.

At the end of the day I think we all want the same thing. A hug, a kiss on the forehead, and someone to tell us that we’re loved.

plug me in, it’s time to recharge

This may sound odd but I have wicked issues with the change from Winter into Spring. Something about the extra sunlight makes my little brain feel like an Ez-Bake Oven that’s been plugged into a dryer outlet. Oy.

But I’ve learned this the hard way so I don’t have to suffer quite so much anymore. It never ceases to amaze me the weird stuff that I get to deal with. Like, did you know…

I am so perpetually dehydrated from the Lithium that I typically drain a 32oz cup every night, while I’m in bed. I wake up every hour or so completely parched. I figured out early on to just fix myself a big glass of water or tea and take it to the bedroom with me.

I have such trouble sleeping that, at doc’s orders, I take the bulk of my psych meds at bedtime PLUS I take Melatonin and Benadryl. Sometimes it still takes more than an hour.

I cannot deal with clutter and chaos. If my physical environment is too chaotic my brain fuck near shuts itself off. As soon as I realize I’m having trouble concentrating I look around to identify and then fix the mess. I try very hard to make my bed every morning and not leave the bathroom filthy. Before I leave work for the day I straighten up my desk. Sometimes I have to do that a few times during the day, too.

If I need to do something it has got to be written down or I will forget it. A combination of age and a little latent brain damage from the last SA have resulted in World Class Shitty Memory. I keep lists at work and on the phone for my personal stuff. Sometimes my lists have lists.

And don’t get me started on forgetting words. I sometimes know damn good and well that a word exists for what I want to say but it refuses to come to my mouth. I stop, breathe, say “English is hard,” and then it usually shows up. But it sucks.

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to eat some pretzels and contemplate a new hiding spot for the bodies…

 

full speed ahead Scotty!

I feel like I’m moving at turbo speed today, but not the “spinning out of control and bouncing off walls at full speed” kind of turbo that comes, typically for me, with the onset of mania. Bipolar is a little bitch, after all.

Nope, this isn’t that. This is the byproduct of an amazing, albeit short, weekend with Lancelot. Overtime is also a little bitch.

Ok, so this is not exactly the most flattering pic of me. I had been crying, just a little and they were happy tears, but I wanted to capture that moment. That perfect moment of happiness with the man I love. Look at how he’s holding me, protecting me from the sadness.

He has helped me to become the woman I’ve wanted to be. This is going to sound so weird, but I like myself now, honestly and truly. I’ve never been with a man who loved and supported me so unconditionally that I actually feel like I could be myself. But, who am I? Who knows. I’m still becoming “her” but I know that I like her. And he loves her. How cool is that?

Also not a flattering picture, but hey, brown hair! I decided to see what wearing a more natural shade would feel like. It’s not bad. I’m also still figuring out the whole shampoo bar and hair product thing, trying to find a reasonable balance before I leave on the trip. Today I threw in the hair dryer (better than throwing it out?) and that seems to have helped.

I don’t care what anyone says, being a girl is complicated.

Speaking of the trip, I’m about 95% packed. I did my practice run on Saturday while Lancelot was sleeping and I decided that since it went so well I’d just leave what I could packed. No sense in duplicating efforts. I feel good about how things are coming along.

Garth feels good about helping Mama with the laundry. He’s not actually much of a help though.

I did manage to finish the shawl from hell (pardon if I’d already mentioned that) and I’m back to working on a shawl for myself using a beautiful multi-colored yarn. It has beads up the edge, a technique I hadn’t done prior to this. I’ve actually been working on it for awhile, it’s on the “goals” craft list, so hopefully it will be done soon.

My trip knitting will be the Shimmer Wave Scarf using that single skein of silk from Darn Good Yarn. I did buy a skein of Koigu specifically for this pattern but I think the other yarn is also a good fit and hey, can you ever really have too many scarves?

there’s never enough time

The weekend wasn’t really what I wanted, or needed. I don’t have any interest in going into it, not much anyway. The new pasta recipe was delicious, the trip to the artist co-op yielded some amazing jewelry, and Avengers Endgame is phenomenal. Other bits of the weekend were absolute shit. Done and over.

The Dublin Shawl is done. That’s not the name of a pattern, it’s my name for it since the yarn reminds me of Ireland and I started it on that trip. It’s lovely. And now it’s about to be too warm to wear shawls like this. Naturally.

I went on a very quick rampage in the kitchen when I got home from Camelot yesterday. That is a work week of pasta salad, fruit bits, jello with raspberries, and hard boiled eggs. I also did my big batch of cold coffee. I feel fairly well prepared, just no breakfasts.

I also got my room all picked back up, two loads of laundry done and put away, outfits and jewelry are laid out for the week. I need to get back to kicking ass and taking names.

I have two days now to finish my homework for the semester. That’s 30 pages in the manuscript and a 6 page essay. Wish me luck.

looking forward to my past

It’s a well known fact that I overthink. I will overthink damn near everything, from the teeny tiny to the monumental. This is part of why I get my work clothes out for an entire week at once; I make all of my over-thought decisions at once and then I’m done with it.

I’ve thought about forming a support group for over-thinkers but I can’t quite work out all of the details.

Ba-dum ching!

Anyway, I know this drives people crazy so I’ve been trying to at least not vocalize it, or all of it. But evidently that results in a massive case of Resting Bitch Face which is no bueno either.

According to my mom there was a time in my past when my default facial expression was a smile, the easily worn outward expression of happiness. I don’t know precisely when that changed other than sometime around when I started meds. But I need the meds. It’s a conundrum.

The hat, by the way, didn’t quite get finished but is only lacking the last four rounds. I estimate another 20 minutes or so. If I had gotten up a bit earlier this morning it would be done by now.

In other good news, simple med change on Friday. I’m dropping one of the new pills she gave me to help with sleep except for if I can’t sleep on the plane I’m supposed to take one. I slept mostly amazing this weekend and today I actually feel like I have some energy. Which is good. I need it.

The mania has faded, rather like a bad dream. My thoughts have slowed significantly and I’m much better able to articulate what I’m feeling and what I need. That’s not to say I’m not still irritable some of the time but I am finding it easier to think before I speak these days. I count this as progress.

Yesterday I got the laundry started, the suitcase out, and the packing is underway. I made the very timely realization that I had either enough underwear to pack OR I had enough to get through until I leave, but not both. Fortunately I made this discovery before we left to run errands yesterday.

And I cannot say enough good things about packing cubes. I got this set from Amazon and I am loving how much easier it is to pack and rearrange things. I’m not taking a very large suitcase, mainly because I have a mid-size one with great wheels that also happens to be purple, so having it well organized is going to be crucial to getting everything in and not arrive looking like I slept in all of it.

Most of the clothes are packed now, I really just need to figure out the backpack situation, which was not possible yesterday given that the pack lives at work. I can’t bring my laptop home to pack until Thursday because it’s my only computer at work, but I can get around that I think. I just need to make sure that everything else fits. I would say tonight by the time I crash I should have 95% of it all done.

The only detail I don’t really have ironed out yet is communication while I’m gone. I added international access to my cell plan so I’m covered with that but there’s still the whole 11.5 hour difference in time zones to contend with. It’s possible that this will make communication with Lancelot easier, but far trickier with my mom. Regardless of the solution, there will be a solution.

I’m excited, I just wish we were already at the “Erin has returned home safely with some lovely little gifts and many fine stories to share” part of the adventure.

hard times at Panda High

I am a serious creature of habit. I pretty much always do the same things in the same way at the same time. Deviation from a routine has the capacity to send me off the edge of a very tall cliff. And for whatever reason, my busted little brain expects everyone else to be just the same.

Amazingly enough, life does not work that way. Also amazingly enough, I (think) I managed to keep my shit together this time. Maybe? Maybe. Poor damn squishy panda…

The hat that refuses to die is almost ready for the decrease rounds. YAY!!! I’m taking it with to Lancelot’s this weekend so that hopefully I can finish it. The weather here is much more “winter” than “autumn” right now so I definitely want to make sure he has both hats before I leave. That bastard weatherman is actually talking about snow for today. Good thing I’m wearing boots.

I didn’t manage to get any packing done last night but I did identify the dresses I’m taking with. I’ve decided that dresses make the most sense for the days I teach since they’re comfortable and take up less space than multiple pieces. I’m also taking one extra dress, a black one that I’ll wear with a light cardigan, in case I need something for a dinner.

Still trying to figure out what, if any, of my shawls or other knitted bits to bring. And jewelry, that’s going to be a decision.

I’m also taking two pair of black flats which will go with everything, take minimal space, and allow my feet a bit of variety. I plan to travel in my tennis shoes which are quite bulky, but totally comfy, and they slip on which makes them ideal for airport security.

Let’s be honest, there are just too damn many decisions to make. This morning my friend N asked me if I’m taking my good camera with me. Hmm, good question.

In other news, I’m still waiting for one more letter of recommendation before my grad school application can officially be processed. I don’t doubt that I’ll get in but this is taking FOREVER. I am much frustrated. Enrollment starts on November 12th. GRRRR.

In other, other, news, I am wearing a shawl I knit a thousand years ago and some of the beautiful jewelry Lancelot got me. And knee-high peacock socks under my boots. I am stunning.

I’d love to tell you about the shawl but all I can remember is that the pattern was called Bloom but I don’t remember a damn thing about the yarn. It’s smooth in spots and then fuzzy in others, the colors are kind of muted, and I put a really funky beaded border on the shawl that I don’t recall being part of the original pattern. It’s quite like wearing a hug. And it looks great with the jewelry.

blue river

It’s weird how our tastes in things change over time, and sometimes out of spite. Or is that just me? For example, my very first tattoo was done because my first husband said that no wife of his was going to have tattoos. So the day we signed our divorce papers I went out and got one.

Right now I’m realizing how often I wear blue. I still wear a lot of purple, it is my “signature color” as my fashionista niece would say, but now that my ex-husband is gone I wear a ton of blue. He hated blue. I tried buying blue bedding once, not girlie pale blue, just good ol’ solid blue, and he completely flipped shit at me.

Basically these days I just do whatever the hell I want. And that’s the way – uh huh, uh huh – I like it, I like it!

I also like fluffy little kitties.

That is my beautiful little Garth baby. He was being super cutie-patootie last night. Eric was busy helping me with the yarn prep.

There is just nothing as exciting as “helping” mama wind her yarn. Seriously. I usually have Mom run interference while I’m working the swift and ball winder. It’s a process.

Project #1 – One Woman Rave that I’ll use Mad Tosh in Nautical Blue for. The color is a great tonal aqua/teal. Lovely. I think the pattern kind of looks like waves to it just made sense to me.

Project #2 – Sweet Louise that I’ll use a local yarn for. I can’t read the label either (I suck at pics sometimes) but I know the color is called Peacock and it’s drop dead beautiful. Lots of dark purple, blue, forest green, and gold with just a hint of glimmer.

And lest you think the hat isn’t getting any love…

I swear to god this is in the black hole stage. I’ve been trying to make 1″ worth of progress for a week. Judging by how much yarn is left I’ll be using up damn near every inch of available yarn. I count that a victory.

the countdown is on

Eleven days from now, almost precisely, I’ll be on a plane bound for Newark, NJ and then on to India. I’m at that strange place between petrified and exhilarated. Tonight I’m going to get out the suitcase and start “practice packing” as my one friend at work suggested. I probably need to do laundry before I can really do that given that I was at Lancelot’s all weekend (again) and haven’t caught up on my laundry.

I think dresses will be good for the working days of this trip. Single pieces, I should be able to get ones that will all work fine with black flats, and they’ll travel well. The other few days are what I’m not 100% sure about, mostly because I’ll spend part of that time sleeping in said clothes. Good times.

At any rates, things are coming together. My hair has been cut, nails will get done this weekend, supplies for the trip are being acquired. My last shot until I get back will be tonight when I get home.

Lancelot surprised me in the most delightful way this weekend. He’s taking a day off this week so we can have a long weekend together. I knew about that. What I didn’t know was that he also took the night before I leave off so that we can have some to spend together then. Utterly sweet.

The mental health stuff is coming along. There are still ups and downs, and patches of downright bitchy, but with lots of love and support I’ve been getting through it. The sleeping issues are almost entirely under control again. Last night was rough but my back was sore and that never helps.

Oddly enough I’m almost more worried about which knitting projects to take with me than anything else.

the update that isn’t an update

I had this amazing therapist that I used to refer to as T-Bone. I saw him for quite a few years. He was a psychologist, so a PhD, but he dropped near as many f-bombs as me during a session. He was this mountain of a man, tall with a big white beard, long ponytail, and typically wore hiking boots and flannel shirts. He also played fierce guitar.

He left the practice to take a different job in another state and the day he left it took everything I had to keep my shit together. I knit him a hat as a going away present. He was well and truly a surrogate father for me when my dad died in 2012.

I transitioned to seeing a female therapist in the same practice, someone I had worked with during DBT. We have an amazing relationship now that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Literally, anything.

She told me a month or so ago that T-Bone was coming back. I don’t know the circumstances of his return, just that he was not only returning to the area but specifically to the practice. The first thing I said to her was that I’d like to see him, to say hello, but I’m not leaving her care. And I meant that.

Fast forward to yesterday… I’m sitting in the waiting room to see my doc (also in the same practice) and this young man comes in and says he’s got an appointment with T-Bone. I almost cried. And then T-Bone walked past the reception window, looked right at me, smiled and waved. And I almost cried again.

The visit with the doc was good. She agreed that I look and sound better. No changes for a week, we’ll re-evaluate next Friday.

I also asked her to do me a favor and tell T-Bone that I’m still fighting the good fight. She said that since I had given permission she’d be happy to do that.

one of my good friends posted this on Facebook this morning and it spoke to me

the best intentions of the painted lady

I had planned to take pictures of both the hat and the shawl last night, but I forgot.

I had planned to get out the suitcase so I could start getting some stuff figured out, but I was too tired.

I had planned to start putting together some outfits for the trip, but I wasn’t in the mood.

I had great ideas and didn’t follow through with a damn thing. Welcome to the world of Slowing the Fuck DOWN.

In good news, I was in bed by 8 last night and felt like it was a pretty decent night in terms of that. I did wake up a few times, but nothing serious. I go see shrinky-poo today so we’ll see what else she wants to do for meds.

I took this pic for Lancelot this morning. He’s been having a rough time at work lately and I wanted to cheer him up a bit. It also shows a bit of the ink on my back. I’ve decided lately that I adore blouses that show off my back, especially the sugar skull. Just under her is a swag of light pink roses. One shoulder has a bumble bee and two daisies and the other has a dragonfly.

Anyway, it’s feeling like it’s going to be one of those days. Nothing like the phone starting to ring off the hook right at 8am.