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Tuesday, December 30, 2014


I'm tired.

I'm tired of having to fight for everything I feel because nobody else seems to care. I'm tired of having to hold everything in because, apparently, my needs aren't as desperate as everyone else's. I'm tired of coming last in everyone's lives.

Would anyone even notice if I disappeared one day? Some say yes, but honestly, how would they? I don't hear from most of them on even a weekly basis. I'm just the one they notice when I start talking like, well, this.

I am so completely alone. I can't.

Is what I do here even doing any good? Every post I put on Facebook, I ask that it get shared. I guess it's not good enough to warrant 2 seconds to hit the share button. So, this will be the last post unless someone can show me it's worth it.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Voluntary Cinderella

What now?

Cleaning has always been extremely cathartic for me. Every time I clean up or organize something, I always feel better than I did when I began. With the holidays here resulting in so many days off from work, I've found myself going a bit mad.

I've never been one to sit still and do nothing. My mother tells me that I never walked... I ran. I'm always doing something, whether it be cleaning, working out to my Richard Simmons DVDs (judge me, but they work!), or dancing, I never sit still. I would annoy everyone in class because I was a knee bouncer/foot tapper. Basically, I just had loads of energy. I still do when I'm manic, and cleaning became my way of releasing it.

What I didn't expect, however, is the emotional release that cleaning could have. I was thinking the other day about how I do feel better when I clean, and came to the conclusion that cleaning and organizing the house, and especially my room, was organizing the mess inside my head as well. So, when I'm off work too long and have too much time to think, or when I'm agitated, I clean.

I work at a school. School is out for 2 whole weeks. Needless to say... the entire house has gotten organized and a lot of it has been scrubbed down. ** Side note: It's super annoying that my computer keeps changing the 's' to a 'z' in organise.**

Since everything is clean, I'm now starting to move my entire room around.

The only song I can think of that is about cleaning is the Barney one, and I'd punch myself for putting it here, so this is what I've had playing while I've been cleaning.

"Stuttering"~ The Friday Night Boys

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Warning: politics

I'm going to do something I absolutely hate and get a little political (backfire in 3...2...1...)

Yesterday, I watched a video of a young man "coming out of the closet." This was incredibly difficult for him, and honestly, I don't doubt for one second that it was nearly impossible. Coming out with any secret that defines or marks you as different is the most difficult thing anyone could do in our society.

It's not just the gay and lesbian community, though. There are countless rape recovery centres who have adverts alongside freeways, on the tele, and on the radio. I applaud anyone who has the courage to step up and admit they need that kind of help and the fact that we need that many centres breaks my heart.

What really irks me about coming out as gay, getting help as a rape victim, or what have you, is that there is endless support for these courageous people, yet coming out with a mental illness basically makes you a leper.

Trying to find a support group for those with Bipolar Disorder (around here, at least) is like a headless chicken seeking food. I have just Googled "rape recovery centres" and "LGBT support" and countless things popped up, but when I searched "Bipolar Disorder support groups," I got sent to a site that sent me to another site that was absolutely useless. I narrowed my search to include "Utah" and got articles from web magazines about the apparent Utah epidemic.

I am not now, nor have I ever dismissed the plights of rape victims or those struggling with identity, I just wish that there was less fear about and more help for mental illness.

Toby Keith~ I Wanna Talk About Me

Sunday, December 21, 2014

My Lips Are Sealed

Anyone got a hammer?

If people, especially my family, knew how much I bite my tongue, they'd be shocked. I keep my mouth shut most of the time because, let's face it, my brain wants to be angry way more than I do. The thing is, though, nobody seems to appreciate, or even acknowledge this. They are, however, more than willing to point out and/or escalate the issue.

(I'm kind of overdoing the comma thing today...)

I try my best to not get angry and bite at every little thing. I try to be positive and understanding despite my brain and body screaming at me to "slap the stupid off their face." But no matter how hard I'm trying, I can't hold all of it in. On certain days, much like today, there are just too many annoyances and I can't bite my tongue anymore.

Nobody seems to care that I'm trying all day, every day. From the second I wake up to the second I fall asleep, I am on guard. I'm watching what I say, how I move, what faces I make, and taking incredibly detailed mental notes about how I feel.

Anyway... this should be Utah's theme song.
Hush Hush- Pistol Annies

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Nightmares before Christmas

I need my teddy bear!

No, really. I've been holding on to my teddy bear the last few nights because I've been having nothing but nightmares. I've always had them, it just gets worse every now and then and I can't pinpoint what causes it.

I'm not sure if I've told you lovely people about this before, but I've had a recurring nightmare since I was 6 years old. I have it at least once a week, and yes, I wake up trying to scream every time. I dream that I'm in a public bathroom, and when I look up, there's a dead woman hanging over the divider. And people wonder why I hate public bathrooms...

I won't give you all the details of my nightmares, because, well, the amazing writers at Criminal Minds couldn't think of anything that bad... But a couple of night ago, I dreamt that the darkness was alive, and if it touched you, you would become part of it. If you've seen I Am Legend, it's kind of like that. It scared me so bad that I actually jolted myself awake.

But it's not just night terrors, it's the dreams that are so vivid, I actually think they're real. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've woken up and smacked my wall trying to get up because I dreamt that I had moved my bed. Those dreams are, in a way, worse for me because I don't get restful sleep so I'm tired all day. Not to say I get restful sleep while I'm trying to run from the darkness...

Well, today, I was reading one of my books on Bipolar management (if I could remember which one, I'd love to tell you), and came across a part that said that vivid and violent dreams are common among people with the disorder. It was just a basic fact, but knowing that took a whole load off my mind! It's normal! Sound the trumpets! Join the chorus!

So, I know that knowing these dreams are normal doesn't stop them, but it makes me feel a little less weird.

This song doesn't really have anything to do with this, but it's called Rescue, so it has merit.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Whatever you say

R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Find out what it means to me! (bet you sang that in your head!)

I've known my whole life that my father will get his way no matter what and anyone else's opinion doesn't matter. Whenever I point this out, he'll say, "that's not true." My mother knows, my sister knows, people we see once in a while know, but he won't admit it. He just has no respect for anyone other than himself.

Well, since he never listens to me when I talk, seeing as how he cannot accept that he does anything wrong, maybe, just maybe, he'll read this.

Dear dad,

I really wish you knew exactly how much it hurts when you don't listen to what I say, respect my opinions, or look up something I have just told you. I have to ask repeatedly for something to get done, and even at that, I have to pitch a fit, complete with yelling, to get you to do something simple that could have been done in 5 minutes. When I try to rearrange something in the house, you say, "I'm used to it this way," and change it back. When I ask you to not do something, you ignore me and continue doing whatever it is.

Now, when you want something done (e.g. Clean off the counter, put my coat away, etc.), it must be done now. Not in one minute... now! I'd give an example of when you try to rearrange something, but it never happens, as proven by the claustrophobic's nightmare. When you ask me to stop, I do. That, father, is called "respect."

Just for fun... here are some examples of things I've had to pitch a fit about...
~The neighbor's lights.
~My trophy (16 years...)
~The bookshelf.
~The desk.
~The fact that you couldn't learn that saying, "you're sick" was only going to escalate the issue.
~My floating bookshelves.
~My picture getting framed (15 years and I finally had to do it because it was getting damaged!)

I could go on for quite some time, but...

I don't like getting that angry, but it seems like the only option. I just think it's funny that you don't like people yelling, yet that is the only way I can get you to do anything. And you wonder why I always go to mom...

The few times I've actually gotten through to you, you say you'll change. Yeah... that lasts no more than a week. I've come to accept that I will never mean enough to you for you to make a real change, but I've also come to accept that respect is an earned thing and you haven't earned it.

"Whatever You Say" - Martina McBride

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Titles Are Hard...

So, uh... I spilled soda all over my computer.

Last night was the Dracula of bad nights. It didn't just suck, it sucked the life out of me. And I'm gonna stop the vampire references before the sparkly ones make an appearance.

The tension has been building for awhile and I knew it was coming, but I didn't explode like I usually do. The balloon was punctured, but not it's just kind of slowly releasing. It's different... and weird... and I don't like it. Normally, when I explode, I feel better for a while until it builds up again. This time I feel just as bad as I did yesterday before the peak.


So I listened to something besides One Direction today. I mentioned Phantogram a couple posts back and they were totally my jam today. There's one song that is everything my mind is screaming at me. Yep... had that one on repeat.

Anyhow... I met with my therapist today. Side note: she's freaking hilarious! She told me how much progress I've made in self awareness. I honestly didn't notice, and yes, I get the irony there. I still have no idea what she means, but I'm kinda ok with that. She also gave me a new technique to release some tension throughout the day and I must say that I'm excited!

I've always been a paper destroyer, rolling, folding, basically killing whatever is in my hands, but apparently that is a good way to release tension. Who knew?! So I'm going to keep a piece of paper with me all day and roll and fold it until it begs for mercy (commence maniacal laughter)!

If you try it, I'd love to know if it works for you!

Celebrating Nothing- Phantogram

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

I Am Nobody

Have you ever thought to yourself, "I can't do anything right, can I?" This is an almost constant thought for me. My whole life, it's been one bad review after another. When I work really hard on something, it just gets worse. If I plan a party, maybe four people show up. When I decorate my own room, I get things like ,"Well it's not what I'd do." I told my sister once that I like to write and I'd like to publish one day. Want to know what she said? "You're not that good a writer."

I honestly have no idea why I'm even here. I mean, what exactly do I do? I get up, go to a job where I have to bite my tongue, I come home where I have to bite my tongue, go to bed, don't sleep, repeat. I'm not allowed to be me at any point of the day without getting told in some way or another that the real me is bad.

If I express any opinion I have, I get a lecture about how I'm wrong. If I try to give advice, it's wrong. If I suggest a place to go out to eat, you guessed it, I'm wrong.

So, I'm sitting in my room looking around wondering what I can wrap around my neck because I've just given up. I'll never be anything but a screw up.

I've used this song before, but I still mean every word.

"What If" ~ Five For Fighting


Friday, December 5, 2014

The Children Descend

What is happening?!

So, I still work at the elementary school and it's getting weirder. Yesterday, one of the classes I work with had a bit of free time toward the end of the day where they could colour, read, or do a craft. For some reason, a few of them decided to just come talk to me. Then a few more... and a few more... Then, out of the clear blue sky, one of the girls wraps her arms around me and won't let go! This made all the others basically attack me in a massive group hug!

All night long I was awake, trying to think of why they would do that. I mean, don't they know me? Don't they know how cranky, self-conscious, and awkward I am? But then I remembered... this school is the weirdest and most amazing school I've ever seen. Boys and girls playing together no matter if it's football, hands up-stands up, wall ball, or jump rope. Girls, boys, special needs, and regular education kids. They don't care if you're short, fat, socially awkward, or even if you have a mental illness. They see the heart instead of the head.

These kids are truly amazing and I hope that as they grow up, they'll never lose that piece of acceptance that we all seem to. And maybe one day, they'll know exactly what they did for a classroom aide they knew once.

Yes, this is a love song, but take the chorus out of context and it's pretty awesome.

"Listen to Your Heart" ~ The Maine
Don't listen to the voices in your head, listen to your heart.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

I can't think of a clever title...


So, it's basically winter. It's mostly, if not completely cloudy all the time and I'm just about ready to scream. Don't get me wrong, I love clouds when it's going to rain, but clouds with no payoff is rather infuriating.

A while ago, I posed the question to my Facebook, asking if everyone else is affected by darker weather, and it actually surprised me how many said yes. I mean, some of them are blessed enough to not have to deal with Bipolar, PTSD, depression, or any of this fun stuff, but they get a little low at night and during the winter as well. I actually wanted to shout, I'm not alone!!!

It's really amazing what you learn when you start being honest with yourself and start asking questions. I've always wanted to deny that I had any kind of problem emotionally or even physically, but since I came out of the dungeon of shame, I've found that so many people feel exactly like I do in some ways.

I love how I start a post with one intention and it turns a whole other direction...

So, basically, no matter your trials in life, just know that someone out there knows how you feel. You may have to look under rocks and down in the pits, but I promise, you are not alone.

This song has absolutely nothing to do with this post, it's just been stuck in my head.

Ready to Run~ One Direction

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Just Call Me Fred

"I'm shy! I'm incredibly shy!"

First things first... Happy freaking Thanksgiving!

Now that that's out of the way... I have come to a rather sad realization today. Backstory: Today was a really good day. My family all got together (all 5 of us) and had a grand time. After dinner, my sister and I hung out a bit and just played around with online quizzes and drawing on the tablecloth (hey... you have your traditions, we have ours). Anyway, my brother-in-law's family has a tradition where they go bowling after their dinner and my family is always invited. Well, I decided to go and it was a disaster! I'm talking category 5 tornado!

I don't exactly like crowds to begin with, but having my sister there along with loads of people she knows and nobody I know just doesn't make me feel all warm and squishy inside. I've always kind of accepted that I'm the kind of girl who sits in the background, keeps her mouth shut, and prays nobody notices her; but today (here's my marvelous realization), I'm so shy that it's crippling.

I've never really thought that I was shy. I've always just said that I'm quiet. But it's way more than that. I don't just keep my mouth shut, it's kind of paralyzed and won't open. Then there's the whole "looking at the ground to avoid any and all eye contact" thing. Oh! And the fact that I keep my coat on indoors so as to have a quick escape. Yeah... cuz that doesn't make me look awkward or uncomfortable.

Well Fred, I feel ya.

Carol Burnett performing Shy from the musical Once Upon A Matress

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Holding Out

I feel like the bottom of a compost heap and I don't know why.

All day I've been fighting this sinking feeling and now it has gathered the armies, called in the militia, and has declared all-out war on me.  Normally, I can put my finger on a trigger, but not this time. I'm not angry or upset, I just feel like folding in on myself and crying for a few hours.

I found a quote that I really liked. It reads:

"I don't think people understand how
stressful it is to explain what's going
on in your head when you don't even
understand it yourself."
This is exactly how I feel at the moment. I can't tell you how I feel because I don't fully understand it.
In other news... I have been put back on lithium. This makes what, 5 times now? Fun little tip: if you start and stop a medication too often, it loses effect and you become immune to it. I react to every pill I've ever tried. This time won't be any different.
I've always kind of felt that, if I could just get out of this state, or even this city, I'd be happier. I know you can't run away from your problems, but surroundings have a deep impact on emotional wellbeing.
I've been crushing on England since I was 5 years old. Not sure why, but I'm convinced that if I ever got there, things will be much better. Maybe I'm just daydreaming, but I still hold out hope. England is the hero I'm holding out for. (Cue 80's song with bad video...)
Holding Out For A Hero~ Bonnie Tyler

Monday, November 24, 2014

You make me so emotional

Uh-huh. Right. Crying into my pillow in 3... 2... 1...

So, the last week or so has been an emotional rollercoaster. I can't remember the name of it or know if it's even still there, but when I went to Knott's Berry Farm in California eleven years ago, there was a coaster there that would send you hurtling through a loop, straight up, hang there a while, backwards through the loop, straight up backwards, hang a while, and back down (now take a breath). Anyway, my point is, that this has been me lately. (Yes! It's still there!)

Last week, I was working with some 6 year olds. Things were normal, but when they gathered for story time, one little girl was sitting in the back by herself. When I asked her what was wrong, she broke down crying and told me that her classmates were being mean to her. Well, as I'm attempting to comfort her (and failing), I got overly emotional. WHY?!?!

Then, I finally decided to watch The Book Thief for the first time. If you've seen it, you can guess where the breakdown occurred. If you haven't seen it, I'm not going to ruin it. It's a great film, but so not what I was expecting!

Ok, so those stories may have a little leeway on emotions. But just yesterday, I was listening to One Direction's new album FOUR, and found myself getting emotional during an upbeat song! What is wrong with me?!

This song goes out to all the emotional people and hormonal women out there.

So Emotional ~Christina Aguilera

And the coaster. Apparently it's called Montezuma's Revenge.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Who is that girl I see?

Uh huh.

So, I have an evaluation on Friday to determine if the government thinks I'm disabled enough to get Medicaid (government funded healthcare). I was sent some papers to fill out beforehand and, no joke, a 6 year old could alter it to look either perfectly fine or a complete nut job! It's insane! It's the typical "let's dive into your childhood and see what we can blame on your mother" type thing. Best part, there's a "complete the sentence" page, and one of the sentences begins with "What I like least about women________." Umm... why is there no "What I like least about men" option? And on marital status, there's the usual options, married, divorced, cohabitating then a slap in the face... never married. Not "single," oh no... just never married.

Ok, so that rant is over. Now I want to talk about how I'm actually afraid of this evaluation. I've said so many times that I don't show emotion that it really just goes without saying. I've lived my life convincing people that I don't have a problem, and now I have to show someone that I do. Showing this person I've never met my deepest self is the most terrifying thing that could happen to me. I've grown quite fond of the mask I wear.

I'm kind of freaking myself out right now, so let's talk about something... not freaky.

OH OH OH!!! The new One Direction album is out as of last Monday! I pre ordered it, but it didn't actually ship until Monday, but it's streaming on Freegal! If you live in the US and don't know what that is, I seriously recommend you check it out! Anyway, it's really good!  And lately, I've been slightly obsessed with Phantogram. They're dark, twisted, and freaking amazing. Music tip of the day, I guess.

Anyway, call me cliché, but this song is really how I feel most of the time.

Reflection~ Christina Aguilera (from Disney's Mulan)

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Give Me Novacaine

Can I be done now?

Lately, it seems like I can't do anything right. Someone gets upset with me every day. Today has been particularly bad, however.

I had a training class today for work. Every comment I made was wrong somehow. Even responses to questions where the answer was on the board. Then, I get attacked on Facebook for simply voicing my opinion. What? Am I not supposed to have any?

So, I was trying to think of someone to talk to who would just let me vent, but the only friend I have anywhere near my time zone I could really talk to (I feel) had surgery today and would probably be less than stoked about texts or calls.

So.. here I am. Sitting on my bed with my One Direction blanket (don't judge), crying and wondering if this is ever going to end. I grew up believing that, after death, all pain would disappear, but lately, I don't believe it. I can't see an end to this... ever.

I'm at Dover (on the edge) of just giving up. I always ask Facebook to share this blog... I've seen it 3 times. I try my best at work, and somebody always says I'm not trying hard enough. That applies to everything, really. Nobody understands, let alone cares how alienated I feel. It hurts more than you could even imagine.

Lately, I've had a chant running through my head, and I actually believe it. Almost everyone has made it abundantly clear that it's true. I am useless; I am worthless; I am nobody.


Saturday, November 8, 2014

A True Kindness

You may never know the effect your words have on someone.

So, tonight, I went to a neighborhood Thanksgiving dinner. Yes, I know that Thanksgiving is more than two weeks away, but it's been a tradition in our neighborhood for as long as I can remember.

Anyway... I absolutely hate it. I only show up out of obligation. I know maybe ten people there anymore and actually talk to four. My neighborhood is what we call "newlywed or nearly dead" because, well, it's all newlyweds and older people. I'm neither, so it's pretty difficult to find things in common with anyone and I can't stand small talk.

I'm getting side-tracked... Well, my point is, there was a woman there who I have only met once before at her wedding reception. She married a guy I've knows for so long I can't actually remember not knowing him. When I was going through the line, making nice with people I've never met, she actually surprised me. She started talking to me like we were old friends catching up. Understand: this never happens to me. I've said before that people don't take the time to get to know me or think that I'm anything but weird. No pretenses, no snap judgments. I automatically liked her (which also never happens).

Side-tracked!!! Ok, so, this super cool woman said something to me tonight that changed the way I've been feeling for the last while. She probably has no idea that her simple words could mean so much. "What did she say," you ask? Well, she just said that she liked the color of my hair and it looked good. Side note: I dyed my hair.

So, I've been listening to depressing music for months on end because, well, that's been my mood. But when I got home tonight, this was the first thing I put on.

I Want to Live- Josh Gracin

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Welcome to Breaktown

Happy freakin birthday to me.

So, my birthday is either today or tomorrow depending on when you read this and your time zone, so it could even be yesterday. Anyway... I'm 28 and have 2 friends I can count on, no boyfriend, no college education, a crappy part-time job, I live with my parents, I don't really know a whole lot about anything, and people wonder why I'm "passively suicidal."

What does passively suicidal mean? Basically that I don't care if I die in a horrific accident, but I'm not going to veer into oncoming traffic. I honestly have just given up. I cut off sending the first message to anyone and I've got one friend who lives in another state who will still text. Then, at work, if I walk into the faculty room during lunch, the maybe two people who notice me pretend to not have. I try to talk to people there and they try to hurry through it. Even when my sister comes over, she'll talk to me until one of our parents comes in.

I wish people realized exactly how much that hurts. I mean, I know I'm not the smartest or most socially sound person, but I have feelings. Yeah, I say things that you don't understand, but why don't you try getting to know me so you can understand instead of thinking I'm weird and not giving me a chance? Sometimes I wish I had the courage to just end it myself.

I am in pain! I look at the headstones in cemeteries with envy. I cry myself to sleep every night. Even now, as I'm typing, I'm silently shedding tears. The only thing I pray anymore is for this to be over.

But I'll get up in the morning, put on my happy face, and continue.

Hanson~ Breaktown

Saturday, November 1, 2014

I hung out in a cemetery

Is there an "off" switch for my brain?

So, sometimes, something will happen that sparks in my brain. My brain then feels the need to put me thru it over and over again like the bloody Energizer bunny. This wouldn't bother me if these repeated memories were the good things, but alas, they're always bad in one way or another (cue classic Blondie song).

Here's today's examples...

1~ I go on random compliment sprees on Twitter. I don't know these people. I just look at their page for maybe ten seconds and say something like, "you've got a beautiful smile." Well, I was a bit manic today (story to come), and I decided to try actually telling someone the same thing. Well, the lady didn't take it very well. She thought I was trying to sell her something. Yeah...

2~ Less than 5 minutes later, I was in my car and this ugly little orange car comes up behind me so close that I couldn't see any part of his hood in my rearview. When we turned onto the main road, there were 2 lanes. he took the inside and I took the outside. He swerved into my lane intentionally, not once, but twice! and his friend was waiving his hand out the window flipping me off like a pre-pubescent Neanderthal.

So, these things are running thru my head instead of the fun I had earlier in the day.

Ok, this may sound weird to some people, but I find cemeteries rather peaceful. The Salt Lake City Cemetery is the oldest one here, and I love going up there to take pictures and just... be. There's history, mystery, and a whole lot of... leaves. Yeah... I couldn't think of another word to rhyme with those that actually fit here... Anyway, here are a few of my favourite pics from today.

I like broken things. I can relate to them.


Monday, October 27, 2014

Tick, tick, tick...


So, today really shouldn't have happened. I would have been happy to go from October 26th straight to October 28th. Kind of like how tall buildings skip the 13th floor.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Like, Antarctica wrong. I don't know why, I just did. Then, as I was getting ready for work, I could feel the pressure building, albeit slowly. Now, normally I'd stay home when I feel like that because I know myself and how bad it could get, but I decided to go in anyway. I mean, it's only four and a half hours, right?

At work, I fought, I suppressed, and I managed to keep it hidden despite the near bursting pressure inside. My students didn't suspect a thing and the teachers I work with just thought I was unusually quiet. I found things to do that kept me away from pretty much everyone, but working in a school, human contact is inevitable.

When I got home, I had to call the Department of Workforce Services about my Medicaid application. As usual, the woman I talked to was what I've come to expect from years of government training. I actually hung up on her before I really lost it.

I had to let off steam, so I called my mom. Talking usually helps, but not this time. Then my dad came upstairs. He still hasn't learned that when I say, "don't talk to me," it's for his own protection. To be fair tho, most people haven't. But he didn't listen. He kept talking, and he said the one phrase that will make the pin strike the balloon... "calm down." I was literally screaming "STOP TALKING TO ME!" That was 6 hours ago... My throat still hurts.

This pressure had been building for a few days. I've released bits here and there by crying when nobody can see (again, I'll deny that with everything I have), but I can't seem to get this under control lately. I want to cry at least half the time, but nobody knows. The pain actually makes it hard to think so I have to work extra hard to understand things. The thoughts in my head have been getting darker and scarier. I'm actually afraid of myself. The only thing that keeps me from hurting myself is how much it would cost my family for a funeral.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

A letter to a kid

Today, in therapy, my therapist had me talk to an empty chair. Why? Because it wasn't empty. Things from my past were there and I could say anything I wanted to them, but never could. My bully and Bryan. I couldn't shut up when it was the bully, but I couldn't find words for Bryan. I finally did.

Dear Bryan,

You're such a great kid. You're kind, friendly, and helpful. You're a friend to everyone in the class.

I wish I could say more than that. I can honestly not remember the last time I talked to you or even saw you because we were so young when you were taken from us.

One thing I won't ever forget is the day we found out. My mom walked me to school, just like any other Monday, but when we got there, we knew it was no ordinary day. Two girls, a year older than we were, came up to my mom and me and almost sounded as if they were laughing while saying, "Bryan's dead." After that, my mom and I went into the classroom where our teacher was sitting on her desk, crying. You wanna hear something weird, Bryan? That year was her first year teaching there, and she was 27. You'd be 27, almost 28 now. But that amazing teacher who wept for you is up there now. Can you find her and thank her for me? She was a great teacher.

In just your ten short years, you left a hole bigger than you may have realized. There was a hole in the class that eventually got filled, but the hole you left in our hearts, well, that's something that will never heal.

I hope you know we still think about you.


Monday, October 20, 2014

Sarcastic? Me?

I've seriously lost count of how many sarcastic things I've said today...

So, I'm a naturally sarcastic person anyway (if you couldn't tell), but when I'm tired or cranky, it's pretty much a constant. This is a bad thing for more than one reason.

1~ Kids do not understand sarcasm. They will take you literally.

2~ Most Utahans don't understand it either. A lot of people here live with rose coloured glasses. They see the good, and only the good, and take everything so literally! But that's a whole other rant.

3~ I use sarcasm as a way to hide how I really feel.

So, lately I've learned that I have a problem with feelings. Not having them, because I'm sure everyone around knows that I have them. I have a problem expressing them. Some of my students will come up to me and say, "I love you," and I'm just like, "you're cute." I can't actually say it. To anyone, really. I mean, people say it to family and friends all the time, right? And it's not that I don't feel it, it's just that I can't say it. Then there are the not so fun times in therapy where I get started talking about something emotional. Yep. Out pours the sarcasm and the tears get fought back.

I can't even call myself "broken" because that would entail that nothing is held back. I guess I've just told myself "tough as nails; cold as stone" too many times. Either that or my ex ruined me forever. Ooh... I like it. I'll just blame him!

Friday, October 17, 2014

(insert clever title here)

So, I just put a hole in my wall...

No, I'm not being metaphorical. I literally just kicked a hole in my wall. In my defense tho, it's a weak wall.

Why am I so upset? I wish I had the answer to that question. For the last couple of days, I've been seriously agitated and rather volatile. Today, however, I just... exploded. I guess it's like Old Faithful. The pressure builds and builds until... KABOOM!

This doesn't happen very often (thankfully), but when it does... watch out! Not gonna lie, it's pretty stereotypical. Hollywood has put this type of episode on the big screen more than a few times. What they don't get, however, is how truly rare it is for someone with Bipolar to explode.

I guess now would be a prefect segue... I've been wanting to talk about this for a while.

I've watched a few movies lately that have a character who supposedly has Bipolar Disorder, and they infuriate me. Here's why...

Manic: Joseph Gordon-Levitt (swoon!) has been committed to a treatment program after beating a kid near to death. One kid in the centre has Bipolar. He seems pretty normal on the scale. Ups, downs, etc. But who winds up being the homicidal one? You guessed it! The kid with Bipolar.

I can't think of the others right now and it's going to drive me crazy! But the character with Bipolar Disorder is always the homicidal one! This is far from reality. More often than not, if someone with the disorder is going to kill someone, it is going to be themselves.

Thursday, October 16, 2014


Just a couple of quick updates.

1~ You can now sign up for email notifications when I post a new blog. Easier than checking it every day, right? I mean, I love that you come here, but it's kind of a time saver for you.

2~ There is now a Facebook group with the same name as my blog! It's a place for open discussion for people with Bipolar as well as those who know someone with it, and anyone wanting to learn more.

And now a quick reminder... Please, please, PLEASE share this blog! On Facebook, Twitter, email, or whatever! Again, I don't make any money off how many people view this, I just want people to know that there are others out there who know how they feel.

Thanx!!! I love your faces!

Tuesday, October 7, 2014


How to infuriate me in 3 easy steps!

1~ Compare my problems with somebody else.

"Well I know Suzy was feeling the same way last week."

2~ Pass off the things I say as unimportant.

"Oh. That's nice."

3~ Continue to talk to me when I'm obviously upset.


I hold my emotions very well compared to others I've met with Bipolar Disorder, but that doesn't mean I don't have similar feelings. Some people take this for granted and that is not okay. Sure, to them I'm calm and collected, but they don't see that when I get to be alone, I'm neither. I'll deny this with everything I have, but, I cry... a lot.

A note to my friends and family,
When I'm looking down and either giving short responses or no verbal response at all... stop talking!

A Team

"D.A.R.E. to say no!"

So, I've always had an issue with people who drink or toke their way thru mental illness. Alcohol and crack are not medication (just in case you were wondering). It's just something I've never understood, and here's why...

I've had some horrid pain in a tooth that desperately needs a root canal. The usual over-the-counter meds didn't cut it, so I broke down and took a narcotic-based pain killer. Now, when I'm in pain, I'm less than pleasant, so, to everyone around, when the narcotic starts to kick in, it's a lovely reprieve (grammatically correct run-on sentence #1). But it doesn't just boost my mood to pleasant... I keep climbing into a full-blown mania (a little different from natural mania, but hard to explain).

It's great (ish) when I'm up there. My room gets cleaned and organised, blog posts (sometimes) get done, and everything is puppies and sunshine. But after about 4 hours, when the pain killer starts wearing off, watch out. It's a hard, fast crash.

So, it's easy for me to see how the addiction starts (taking another just to keep from crashing), but it's not a good feeling all around. I honestly hate it. I will do anything in my power to keep from having to take any narcotic-based pain killers.

Just in case you didn't quite understand the title...

Thursday, October 2, 2014

P. Sherman 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney

"Just keep swimming."

Great advice from Dory, but not really practical. I've been scrambling to simply tread water, and lately, I can't seem to keep my head above water. **Side note: This is really freaking me out because water covering my face gives me the serious creeps** So, needless to say, I've been pretty useless lately.

For four years, I worked in a high school and I never had any problem. Ever since then, I can't seem to hold a job for more than 3 months, and even that's pushing it. It's not because I'm a princess and feel like I shouldn't have to work, it's because being out in public and having to think on their schedule is incredibly difficult for me. It's not so bad when it's like, 3 days a week and those days change each time, but when it's Monday thru Friday, 9-5, it's not going to go well. Don't get me wrong, I try, but I know my limits.

I have a job in an elementary school now, and it should be easy. I mean, I've never particularly liked kids under 12 years old, but these kids are (mostly) pretty amazing! Best part: I work 4 hours, 4 days a week! Sounds perfect, right? Wrong. I'm struggling to even get out of my bed in the morning. I'm practically using hooks to make myself smile anymore. It's not just wearing me out, it's wearing me down.

I don't even know what to do now. I'm on meds, I've got a therapist, and I still can't function like a normal human being. It's been so difficult lately that I've kind of given up. I've been fighting this my entire life, and I really just don't want to fight anymore.

Fun story: I had the worst day a couple of days ago, and I blew up on Facebook (mature, I know). Well, I got texts and messages from 3 people (one of whom wouldn't let me hide out...). Just those 3 people asking if things were alright for those few minutes changed my entire compost-filled week.

One of them was watching Glee, so it made me think of this.

(I'm trying to put a song on every blog now because, well, I want to!)

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Trust me

Ok... so I've talked before about how I'm always the "good friend" and how I'm tired of it. This is still true, but I hear people say the same things I've complained about (nobody calls in, always making the invitation. etc.), and they don't seem to mind too much. This boggled my mind! How could it not bother someone?! Then I realized, maybe they're not the exception, but the rule.

I took some time to think about why this would bother me so much, and I hit a massive epiphany today while working with a group of kids. One girl was all alone, and when I asked her where her friends were, she looked down and said, "they don't want to be my friends anymore." About half an hour later, they were all together and looked like they were having a good time. It hit me like a cement truck that this little girl is exactly like I was.

I posted about the bullies and the ringleader who made it her life's goal to make my life miserable, but it wasn't just her/them. Some of my friends played some very cruel jokes on me. One time, a couple of them apparently got into that (insert demeaning adjective here)'s thumb. They asked me to come play, and when we got a couple houses down, that (insert demeaning adjective here) came out of hiding. The two other girls held me tight while that... you get the point... twisted my arm and said, "I wonder how far until it breaks."

I guess after that, I just don't trust anyone, and when someone doesn't put forth the effort, I see it as a betrayal as bad as that day. Don't get me wrong, I have some amazing friends who text and whatnot a lot! If a day goes by where we don't talk, a couple will say, "I'm so sorry for being such a bad friend!" Sweet pea... you're not a bad friend!

Back on topic... So I have trust issues. Explains a lot. Yay personal epiphanies...

This video means the world to me. I just wish it had be around 20 years ago. Please share this!

Monday, September 22, 2014


"When are you going to get married?"

I swear, the next person to ask me that with the ever present "Utah tone" is going to get an earful. Here, the norm is for girls to be married no later than age 21, and guys, no later than 23. Even those ages are pushing it. Well, here I am, almost 28 and 100% single. No boyfriend, not even a date.

I've heard the "when?!" so often that I've come up with a few sarcastic responses.
"When my type of love is deemed legal."
"When your son asks."
"As soon as he beats this murder wrap."
And a few less than G-rated responses.

Anyhow, sarcasm aside, I've been thinking about why I can't keep a relationship, and I think I may have a few theories.

1~ Men are stupid- I said awhile ago that I don't make a good first impression, and well, it's still true. Guys see the freak on the first date and don't give me enough of a chance to be a real person.

2~ Who would want to?- There's a song I've loved since it came out called, Absolutely (Story of a Girl) by Nine Days. One line says, "How many lovers would stay just to put up with this shit day after day?" (Pardon the language) This is how I feel. Who would really stick around with all my moods?

3~ Maybe I'm not really ready- I'm still incredibly immature and like having my alone time. When I do start communicating with a guy, I think of it more as a chore than something fun.

Anyhow, this has just been annoying me for a long time. Feels good to get it off my chest.

Here's the official video to Absolutely (Story of a Girl) from YouTube (which apparently doesn't show up on some mobile phones, so try a computer).

Friday, September 19, 2014

Hulk Mad!

Do you ever think to yourself, "I'd love to punch that moron right in the face?" Well, for me, it's a pretty common thought. I never really thought anything of it, but I was talking to my therapist the other day and she suggested that I may have some anger issues. I wasn't all too surprised after I thought about it, honestly.

We talked about why and some things came up about that group, specifically that one girl,  who bullied me all thru school. With that, I learned pretty quick to hold things in, but I over did it. I've held everything in for years. I've learned that this is a bad thing (duh!) because when I get even slightly angry, it doesn't stay level. I implode. I start to shake and basically act like Ray from Rainman. All agitated and antsy.

But it's not just that (insert demeaning expletive) that I'm angry at. I feel like I drew the short end of the stick. I got landed with a disorder that is so overwhelmingly painful that I can't hardly hold a job, boyfriend, or social life. On top of that, I've got the anxiety and a whole list of medical things. I feel like I got screwed in life and most of the time, I can't think of one single thing I have that's good.

A few days ago, I heard a woman give a speech about how she feels like she got screwed on talents. All her family and friends have these amazing talents like singing, dancing, crafts, and she had nothing. Then someone pointed out to her that she always knows just what to do to help someone, no matter the situation. That's how I feel most of the time. But when I actually think about it, growing up, I was on a dance team that usually took first place, I was second chair in an orchestra that every high school student in the district could audition for, and now, people all over the world are reading the words I write.

That last one is the most amazing thing to me! All my life, I've felt like I had no voice; like I was silenced somehow. This blog is my voice, and I'll keep talking as long as people keep listening.

Monday, September 15, 2014


I just want to take a minute to say thanks!

Periodically, I look at my stats (how many views today, where from, etc.), and I've gotten quite far spread, I think! I've got loads in the U.S., but I've also got South Korea (thank you, love!), Poland, France, Austria, and Germany! This is crazy! I love it! Seriously, if it weren't for you all, this would have ended after one or two posts. I just hope that my scattered thoughts and words are helping at least one of you.


Friday, September 12, 2014


You are hereby cordially invited to bite me.

I've been a bit emotional lately and I've been catching a lot of fire for it. I think I've said before that, when I get emotional, I say things I mean and those things aren't really what people want to hear. My latest rant has been on friends vs. "friends." Not quite sure what I mean? Allow me to enlighten you.

When I hear "I'll Be There For You," I think of the TV show "Friends." When I hear "Follow You Down," I think of a lot of people in my life. Part of it goes, "Any where you go, I'll follow you down. I'll follow you down, but not that far." I've had almost every one of my Facebook friends express support in my decision to go public with my illness, which is amazing, but support in the illness itself is pretty hard to find.

So, when it came to saying what I mean this time, I called out some people who never call/text/whatever and expect me to always be the one to make invitations. This infuriates me, as it is; but it gets worse. When I (as usual) call to make plans, it winds up that I end up at someone's house, pretending to enjoy watching the helicopter moms give constant, undivided attention to the spoiled brats, or force a polite laugh at things found online. Obvious stick: I didn't come over to be ignored.

So, as I'm pointing this out, I get a comment that (paraphrased) I go onto Facebook looking for a pity party. Oh, I'm sorry. Did my mental illness get in the way of  puppies, sunshine, and denial of your own? News flash: I'm in pain that you can't even imagine. Don't you dare try to tell me what I feel/want/need!

Story: I have a friend who, a few years ago, I stopped talking to. I hadn't been diagnosed and didn't really know why I felt the way I did. Why did I stop talking to him? Because I was immature, and he told me one day that I was "too much drama." Now, it's different. He seems to understand without saying anything. Tonight, I put on my Facebook that I was feeling lonely. I don't know if he saw this or not, but he texted me this ridiculous picture that made me smile.

I yelled at him, I insulted him, and he still talks to me. That, ladies and gents, is a friend. Not to say that he's the only one (they know who they are), but he's on my mind at the moment.

Moral of the story: I don't say anything I don't mean, and I mean that I've been hurt. If you want me to be a good friend, you've gotta be one, too.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Time Out

As a kid, time-out was a punishment. Now it's desperately needed.

So, when I'm around people too much, it really starts to wear on me. The more people around, the faster it wears. I've never been good at dealing with stressful situations. Working retail is a nightmare. Especially when I'd get one of those super cranky people who took out their mistake on me. But the thing that irks me most: rush hour traffic.

Ok, so I went into the city today to see some friends. It takes me about 20 minutes to get there and about the same to get back. Well, today I managed to hit the 5 o'clock rush and let's just say my car horn got a workout. If there's one thing in the world I absolutely have zero tolerance for, it's self-centered people. You know the type. Maybe you are the type. Who knows? Anyhow, the ones who go straight through the turn lane just so they don't have to wait in line. The ones who block the intersection because they were too wrapped up in themselves to stop where they should have. And my personal favourite: the ones who just about take you out because, "two feet between you is enough for me to fit, right?"

The absolute worst part of all this: I come home and take it out on the nearest person. But today, I set a milestone. I left and went to hide in my sanctuary (and whine to you lovely readers).

Oh! Oh! OH!!! I forgot to mention what I learnt! I went to the library and found the DSM-IV (that's a 4, not just the letters i and v) and looked up Bipolar Disorder. I found all the qualifications for the different types and states and found out that everything I've been told and believed was wrong! I've never been in a hypomanic state. I get full-blown mania! Yay for self-education! I encourage every one of you to find a DSM either IV or V. It has diagnostic tools for everything from minor depressive episodes to schizophrenia to personality disorders. It's everything. It's used by psychology students and psychology Ph.D.

Traffic sucks. Nick Santino makes it better.


I'm not in a particularly fantastic mood today, so I'm gonna post some jokes. Who knows. Maybe that'll spark something inside me to make a real post.

The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.

Rene Descartes walks into a bar. Bartender asks if he wants anything. Rene says, "I think not," then disappears.

How many existentialists does it take to screw in a light bulb?

There are two types of people in the world. Those who can extrapolate from incomplete data.

Sixteen sodium atoms walk into a bar... followed by Batman.

I'm thinking of selling my Theremin. I haven't touched it in years.

What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question?

So, nothing came to mind. Oh well. Hope these made you smile!

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Do Ra Me Fa So La Ti...

"Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." ~William Congreve

Anyone who knows me, knows I love music so much that it verges on codependent. I'm always listening to something. I've always believed that quote, and usually what I listen to can change my mood or enhance it. When I'm down and want to pull out of it, I can put on Hot Chelle Rae or One Direction (judge me, but it works!), or when I'm bouncing off the walls, Lorde or Haim will do the trick. Not to say they're depressing, it's the beat and melody that do the trick.

Anyhow, I don't know one single person who doesn't have at least one song that they take very personally. A line, verse, chorus, or the whole thing. Well, thanks to having a billion different sides of me, I've got quite a few of those personal songs and I'd like to share parts of some of them.

Breaktown (Hanson)
Are you ready to lose?
Are you ready to win?
Well I've been losing for so long
I can't begin

Unwell (Matchbox 20)
Hold on
Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown
And I don't know why


But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me
Iris (Goo Goo Dolls)
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

Let It Go (Idina Menzel from Disney's 'Frozen')
I don't really need to post any lyrics here since I'm pretty sure everyone on the planet knows this by now. But, not to be cliché, this is the song that gave me courage to start this blog and tell people about my illness. Seeing Demi Lovato do this song was inspiring as well.

There are so many more, but I don't want to make this too long and I can talk about music all day. No exaggeration.

"I'm a musician. I can Handel it."

Sunday, August 31, 2014

I'm Baaaack!

I'd need a TARDIS so I can go back and actually see what I look like when I feel like this.

So, for the last 2 weeks or so, I've been feeling a bit normal. Not your normal, my normal. I had been on lithium (for the 3rd time) for almost 2 months, but my levels got too high (as usual) so I had to stop taking it. And as my lithium levels lowered, I could feel myself drift back into my normal. Ups, downs, in-betweens. The last 2 weeks or so, I've been alternating between hypomanic and mixed states.

For those who don't know: a mixed state is being both up and down simultaneously, and hypomania is basically a fancy term for controlled mania. Hypo consists of high energy, attention overload, and delusions of grandeur. Ok, there's way more to it than that, but those are the key points I face.

So, if you can imagine, the last few weeks have not been a pony ride. Last night (as is usual with my hypo) I had a break down. This isn't your basic, "I'm sad and need to cry" thing. Oh no. This is an all encompassing pain that renders me crippled for several hours. It hurts so badly that I can hardly walk, talking is impossible (unless basic vowel sounds count as language), and breathing becomes a major issue. Oh, and let's not forget the best part: the red, puffy, bloodshot eyes that scream "frat party."

Fun fact: I actually take a selfie every time to remind myself that, even though I look like I got a bee sting to the face, I survived this storm.

So, I'm big into hiding my emotions and standing on my own two feet, but like I said a few weeks ago, we all need support. The amazing, inspirational woman I email is, well, amazing, but she's not right here. So, I may not have the empathetic support of a friend, but I've got something I think is better: a sympathetic mom. She will drop whatever and just come wrap her arms around me and let me cry (and sometimes scream) until I feel like talking. She may not understand how I feel, but she understands that sometimes I can't do it on my own.

My mom ROCKS!

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Come again?

There are definitely things that people do and say that can (and definitely have in the past) set me off and I'm sure it's not just me. Granted, a lot of these things are said with the utmost concern and sincerity, and I try to keep that in mind, but some people are just trying to "fix" me and that is not alright.

"You're sick." -- Wow... what a revelation.

"Turn that frown upside down!" -- I'll turn your head upside down if you say that again.

"Have you tried therapy?" -- No. I've never thought of that. Thanks for the idea.

"What about a support group?" -- Umm... did you miss the part where I don't show emotion?

"What medications are you taking?" -- Ok... 1- none of your bleeding business, and 2- you wouldn't know what they are anyway and the resulting explanation would confuse you and infuriate me.

"I've never seen you be, you know, bipolar." -- What does that even mean?

"I know how you feel." -- Don't... even.

"Maybe you should try (insert remedy)." -- Yes. And maybe you should try (insert expletive).

Like I said, a lot of things are said in sincerity, and those people who say them mean the world to me! And honestly, I have a couple of friends who don't say anything about it and that's an incredible relief from the constant questions and depressing conversations about how screwed up I am. I greatly appreciate both sides!

I've been feeling very down the last few days and am starting to come back up. Let's hope I come up fast. I start a new job on Monday!

Tuesday, August 12, 2014


"I'm fine."

I've used this sentence so much that it no longer means anything to me. I've talked before about how I don't show any emotion, but lately I've been thinking about why and I think I may know now.

When I was a kid, from the first day of kindergarten all the way until high school graduation, I was bullied something awful by a group. The ringleader was a girl who lived just a few houses down from me. I didn't get one single day of freedom. This girl would get anyone she could under her thumb to torture me. She would follow me home, saying things that, to this day, stick in my head. Things about how I wasn't good enough. How I was ugly, stupid, and fat. She manipulated my best friend into believing that she was the good guy and I was the bad.

I remember one day very, very clearly. It was recess time, and my small, but loyal, group of friends had gone off to get something while I sat on the grass. This girl and her band of followers came over to me, stood around me, and wouldn't let me get up while they taunted, hit, and kicked me.

That is the last time I cried outside my house. The look of pure satisfaction on her face when she saw my pain was enough to make me hard. Still, when I feel like crying, I tell myself, "tough as nails; cold as stone."

That day left me with a rather unfortunate scar. Along with Bipolar Disorder, I have severe anxiety. Working jobs that are mostly dealing with the public, like retail, are incredibly difficult, if not impossible for me. Worse yet, crowds. If I can't get out of a crowd, I have a panic attack.

This was difficult to talk about and I don't really know how to end it...

Friday, August 8, 2014

It's in the stars

So, I was playing around online, and came across this article by Huffington Post about stars with bipolar disorder. I knew about a few, like Catherine Zeta-Jones and Demi Lovato, but I'd never heard the things any of them said about having it or going public with it so this was particularly interesting.

Lark Voorhies (Saved By The Bell) ~ She herself has never said it, but her mother has.

Demi Lovato~ "I feel like it's no coincidence that God put me through all of this and has also given me the voice that I have. I feel like my purpose on earth is much greater than just being a singer, a musician or actress. I think it's to reach out to people and to raise awareness of these issues that not many people speak about."

Catherine Zeta-Jones~ "There is no need to suffer silently."

Michael Angelakos (Passion Pit)~ (After having to cancel many shows on the band's tour) "... people don't understand this. People don't understand that it's not just debilitating; it's all-encompassing."

Carrie Fisher~ "At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring lots of stamina and even more courage, so if you're living with this illness and functioning at all, it's something to be proud of, not ashamed of."

There were others, but these few really stood out to me. Ms. Voorhies is apparently in denial, like I used to be. Ms. Lovato feels she has a greater purpose in this, as I'm beginning to. Ms. Zeta-Jones is saying what I've tried to. Mr. Angelakos just says it all. Ms. Fisher gives me hope.

My hope is that someone searching for answers will see this and find a few. That's why I started this blog. If you know someone who could use a few sarcastic words about dealing with things not asked for, please share this. I don't care about how many views this gets. I don't make any money off it. I just want to help at least one person.

Keep on functioning!

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Weather tis nobler...

"Rain, rain go away. Come again another day."

I wanna talk about the weather, and no, I'm not just trying to make small talk.

Weather affects us all, and all in different ways. Some may get excited for snow while others dread it. Same with rain, summer heat, or the chill of autumn. This is perfectly normal. I, on the other hand, can tell you exactly what my mood will be when watching the next day's forecast.

Rain: I love rain. Always have. Always will. When it rains, I'm at peace; relaxed. If I'm feeling manic, it brings me down, if I'm feeling depressed... well it still brings me down, but a good down. It kind of takes the despair and turns it into a longing. Funny thing tho: I don't know what I'm longing for. A mystery that must be investigated!

Snow: No two ways about it... I. Hate. Winter. I'm okay if I'm inside with a book, fire in the fire place, and a blanket, but don't even think about making me go out in that cold unless you want sarcastic comments, the "snapping turtle" treatment, or a fit pitched.

Summer heat: Nope. Once the temperature (in Fahrenheit) gets above the speed limit on the freeway, I'm done. And I'm talking city speed limit, not middle-of-nowhere speed limit. 65 Fahrenheit and I'm done. More than that and I'll be unbearably cranky all day.

Autumn: Oh sweet perfection, how I do love thee. For the (maybe) two months of autumn we get here, I'm in heaven. There is nothing I love more than driving around in the Fall with my window down, arm out, and One Direction blasting from the stereo. Unless you change out 1D for Nick Santino...

Anyhow, my point is, weather affects how I feel more than most. It's been raining here for the last few days, and I'm just sitting here... trying to figure out what I want. It's like the clouds are scrambling my brain. AH-HA! That's it! The clouds were created by the government as an experiment on how to get people to... Yeah. Even my sarcastic and twisted mind can't finish that...

If the weather affects you in any way, please comment and let me know I'm not just a weirdo :) 

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Mmm... maybe not.

So, there have been a few firsts for me lately. I've gotten to talk to someone who knows how I feel, I actually voiced the sentence "I have bipolar disorder," and I experienced the offending side of labeling someone with a mental illness.

I met a guy today who is funny, cute, easy to talk to, and also has bipolar. I was thrown back a bit when he told me that. It honestly made me a little uncomfortable for a minute. I mean, we've been texting for about a week now, and he never said anything, but when we met up today, the subject came up, and it weirded me out. (Yes, weirded is a word. I put it in my dictionary last week.)

Whenever I tell people, I can actually see them tense up and get uncomfortable. It's not difficult to spot. It's one of the first things you learn to see. I never thought that I'd be the one tensing up, though.

I mean, why should it make me uncomfortable? I'll tell you why... social conditioning. I've said it before, and I'll say it again... we are all taught that mental illness is shameful and something to be hidden and feared. It's not just something people who aren't affected learn, we all do. I was ashamed of myself for thinking that, because this amazing guy has an illness, I should be afraid of him.

I changed my thinking and we had a great time together! I just wonder how many opportunities to get to know amazing people that others miss because of this social conditioning.

I am not my illness.




Monday, July 21, 2014

Ring of Fire

I've posted about having no energy before, and yes, that is part of depression, but as we all know, depression is sadness. Today I'm depressed. I don't get this side of it very often. I'm more often than not in a hypo-manic or mixed state. I don't necessarily like feeling like that, but I must say... I hate this.

Let's take a ride into the twisted thing that is my mind... Like I said, I have no energy, and I talked about sleeping too much.  That's so true right now. But I also just want to hide in a corner and cry. I'm also incredibly unfocused. It's taken literally ten minutes just to type this much. And I've noticed that I'm a serial pessimist today as well.

Now, I don't know about depression as a solo disorder, but for me, it's like I can feel my emotions physically as well as mentally. It's kinda difficult to explain, but when I have a breakdown, it physically hurts beyond any pain I've ever felt.

This is so scattered. I'm sorry!

Anyway... I know how to handle the hypo, mixed, and even the breakdowns, but this depression is kind of killing me. It's not like a normal low for me. I've not got the sense hopelessness that usually comes with this. I'm just tired, sad, and very cranky. I've been around a few friends today, but they had no clue. I said I didn't feel too well, but I still didn't act it. I'll more than likely never show any emotion to anyone but family. That's actually why it took so long to get a diagnosis.

Sorry. This is beyond scattered. But this blog is not only educational ;) it's also very cathartic for me.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Thorns suck, but the Rose makes it worthwile

I just did something I have never been able to do before. I was able to email someone who also has Bipolar Disorder. Someone who knows how I think and feel. I think I may cry I'm so happy!

So, I know there are people out there who know all this, but I've never been able to talk to any of them! I've recently found out that I have a few friends with it also, but to be honest, it's a bit weird talking to them about it. I don't know why... it just is.

You may ask, "who is this mystery person?" (Alright. Let's face it, you weren't thinking that at all. But you are now! HA! I win!) She is the mother of a new friend of mine. I couldn't actually talk to her because she lives in England. But emails are almost as good!

Some of you may be wondering why this is such a big deal to me. Think of Helen Keller. She lived in a world completely isolated. People were always trying to make her understand things, but it never took. Then one day, she realised that the hand signs meant something. It's just like that for me. I've lived my whole life knowing that I'm different than everyone else. I've heard and read about others dealing with this, but it never truly sank in until I heard that my friend's mother has this as well.

I've never had a real support. I mean, my family and friends are great! But they can only sympathize, not empathize.

My point really is that, nobody should do this alone. Find someone who knows how you feel. A therapist, a friend, or even just a random blog you come across.

Friday, July 18, 2014

1... 2... 3...

Ok. I want to know who started the idea of counting sheep to fall asleep. I mean, doesn't counting keep you focused on something therefore keeping you awake? And why sheep?

So, something I have loads of trouble with is sleep. I can be completely knackered (like right now), but can't sleep no matter what I do. Nothing works. Counting sheep, trying to will myself into it, not even the heaviest sleeping pills work. No matter how tired I am, I'll just lie in bed, mind racing. On the flip side, there are times when I'm so tired that I can sleep for 16 hours. Neither is particularly fun.

But, as you've probably guessed, my sleeping pattern is based on my mood. When I can't sleep, it's not your typical insomnia (which I'm eternally grateful for!), it comes from the mania side. And when I sleep too much, it's not because I'm lazy, it's because I'm going through a depression.

I've spent the last week or so sleeping between 14 and 18 hours per day. I didn't want to get out of bed at all, but I did. I didn't really have much of a choice. I don't live in a hotel with room service and bedpans kind of freak me out. BUT... now I'm on the flip side and can't sleep despite being, like I said, completely knackered.

If anyone has any suggestions on a more even sleep pattern, I'd love to hear it! I'll try just about anything. Until then... 1 sheep... 2 sheep... 3 sheep... oh screw it. I'm going to go watch Doctor Who.