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.

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.

a world full of hate

I nearly can’t stand to watch the news or get on social media anymore. There’s so much hate and violence everywhere you turn. It’s awful. Trump keeps throwing his disgusting weight around like he’s got a right to do these horrible things he keeps threatening to do and much of the masses believe him.

Folks, the movie “Idiocracy” was NEVER intended to be a documentary.

There are still good, rational, reasonable people out there. I know there are. I just hope they all get out and vote. I voted early by mail. I’m lazy and it’s easier for me, but I did it. Those of you here in the US, or really anywhere, I can’t encourage you enough to exercise your right to have your voice heard.

I saw this on Facebook and didn’t remember to get the artist info, but it’s not my work. Super stunning though.

I’ve reached a point where I feel like a return to life as it should be is well within my grasp. My sleep is still not where I want it to be but I’ll see the doc tomorrow and I plan to talk to her about it. Progress is still being made with controlling the mania so I feel good about that.

The stress levels in general are coming down which is absolutely heavenly. I’m actually (finally) getting excited about the trip to India. I made a few purchases this morning that were recommended by friends and I’m getting ready to line up a few more.

As a total side note, what the hell did we do before internet shopping? Seriously.

Also saw this on Facebook this morning and it was like someone smacked me in the face with a phone book. I plan to make the rest of this year a very educational experience and then next year, look out.

*assuming of course I can stop locking my fucking keys in my office

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.

the crazy runs deep

It shouldn’t surprise me, this creeping madness, but it always does. It’s not as though it was overnight process to get there, it certainly isn’t to get out of it. But I have very little patience even at the best of times, which this is not.

Updates, as such…

I am sleeping, fairly regularly. I didn’t sleep well over the weekend because my skin stuff acted up something FIERCE. It’s finally subsiding. But I was in bed by 7pm last night.

My nieces did well at their competition. Unfortunately that much time in a bleacher chair didn’t help my skin.

The time I spent with Lancelot was mostly good. I’ll take it. I’m working hard to keep things with him good and keep moving forward with appropriate communication. I have a ways to go. But he’s still the one I want.

I got quite a bit of progress made with the second hat on Saturday. I haven’t measured but I would say I got about 4″ of the body knit. I put it down last night in favor of something new because the tiny needles were cramping my hands. I had purchased 4 balls of a KnitPicks yarn that’s similar to Noro Silk Garden and started a fairly simple garter stitch shawl with it. I think it’s going to be gorgeous.

I’m hoping this is a quiet week. I have roughly 3 weeks worth of dress clothes to wash and a new wireless network to setup at home. Fun times.

it’s a process, you know this…

It’s been awhile since I’ve dealt with the mania thing. I can’t remember how long because, let’s face it, I couldn’t reliably tell you what I ate for dinner last night. The last suicide attempt turned portions of my brains into scrambled eggs. But I digress.

I remember enough to know what I’m up against. This is a slippery slope I’m on right now. If I come down too fast I’ll go down too far and that, in and of itself, is just as dangerous.

Control and balance are the names of this game. Slow and steady will win the race and save my life. But holy fuckballs do I hate to slow down.

I’m trying to focus what little brain power I have right now on taking care of myself. I’m eating, listening to music, trying to knit, and giving myself permission to have down-time. In that vein I will not be posting again until Monday. Tomorrow will be spent taking a Mental Health Holiday. I plan to come back with pictures.

i wanna be sedated

If you’re familiar with The Ramones, well, there ya go.

Life is, very slowly, getting back to “normal.” I’m still irritable as all fuck but I’m trying. I have started eating again and I’m doing the things I know will help. But here’s the problem…

Slowing down to get out of the manic phase means slowing down. I don’t like slowing down.

I did realize the other day, earlier today, who knows… Anyway, I realized that Lancelot hasn’t known me when I wasn’t at least a bit manic. And that scares me. What if he doesn’t like the more mellow me? What if my slowness is boring?

He reassures me that this won’t happen and I’m trying not to let it trip me up. But I’m concerned.

I’m also concerned that my body appears to hate me more than usual right now. My skin stuff is acting up Big Time.

I did sleep last night. As long as I continue to sleep things will improve. I was also able to start the second hat last night which was nothing short of a miracle. I’m very thankful for it because the girls have a baton competition on Saturday and then there’s a fight on that night that Lancelot has already said he wants to watch so I’ll have ample opportunity to knit this weekend.

I’m thinking for the trip I’ll take supplies for two different shawls. They don’t tend to take up much room or need much other than the yarn and needles. I doubt I’ll be able to finish two, especially since the doc says she’s going to make sure I sleep on the flights, but still.