Two Inch Square Reminder

I would like to think that every day I am swimming a little bit closer to the surface of reality and contentment and “ok-ness.”

It seems today was very very dark and only on a few occasions could I see a greyish blue light around the exteriors of objects and words and people.  Otherwise it was pitch as night.  At this very moment, just the slightest grayish blue.  And then it all disappears and I am without any senses to guide me.

I am making such an effort to come up with things to please myself, to give myself a moment’s respite from hell, to wrack my brain for what might be the thing I have missed.  I ate a soft-serve vanilla cone today. It reminded me of my sister and McDonald’s and having fewer cares. It made me feel happy for a moment, as I was looking at a faraway memory.

Often the grey light will come from within a memory of my sister or Oscar.  I have the picture booklet she made of their first year as a family sitting on my table where I spend many hours.  I usually go so far as to only look at the cover, but lately I have allowed myself to look inside and it is almost amusing to laugh out loud at Oscar’s silly face and my sister’s beautiful and loving smile, all the while with snot and tears rolling down my face.  And I flip back and through it over and over, laughing, smiling, and feeling like there are things worth living for.

And I tell myself, well, Rosa, at least you can be grateful for one thing if none other.  In the here in now, you have remembered there are things worth living for.

This happens to be my very first indication that, while things could go bad again and likely will, for now I have a glimmer of hope that I find in a two square inch photo book.  Love you guys.

No Overloading the Rosa

It is only within the past couple of days that I have been able to see any kind  of real improvement without major backsliding.  I have been **gasp** calm today, even in the face of really dumb arguments and an empty jar of peanut butter.  I have only cried twice and I slept almost three hours uninterrupted.

A tiny bit of clarity is in my thoughts today, and for that I am grateful.  I attribute it to the countless years of DBT with Goddess of Mindfulness and the very small piece of me that has been able to resurrect some of that in my life the last few days.  A small kindness or simple yet firm decision can go a long way.

My simple yet firm decision (that I have come to with surprisingly little angst) is that I must get back on a schedule, and do things that make me feel better, more grounded.  One would think that, having lived with bipolar disorder nearly my entire life, this would have come to  me sooner.  Well, it didn’t, or maybe I wasn’t ready to do it.  But now I say “no.”

In the next week, I will eat dinner before 8:00P and take meds by 8:30P.  I will read and blog and work on new art projects (charcoal drawings, thanks to stepmom Karen).

I will stay out of stressful situations.  I will not interact when I don’t want to, and I will not force things  because I “should” and other people want me to.

I will not talk about why I don’t believe in God, or my theories on ISIS, or watch the local news.

There will be no overloading of the Rosa, just soft and easy with myself and my time.  It will work this way because it has worked before, and because I say so.  Not a lot of willingness in there, but sometimes getting through the first steps means being the opposite.

Sometimes A Little is Too Much

Over the past month of my unintended absence from blogging (and life in general), it is becoming clearer to me what I need to do and have around me to stay somewhat sane.  In the forefront, stress of any kind must be kept to a bare minimum.

Stress.  Right.  Traumas from years ago are rearing their ugly head and the past year seems like it was fraught with tension and tears and angst.  I know that if I am going to survive, I am really going to have to remove myself from all that.  Even a little stress is too much.  Even a little stimulation is too much.

While in some ways the man I started dating last December has been very supportive, I question if now is not a good time for me to be in a relationship.  We fight and I would admit that a lot of it is my craziness, he has serious issues as well.  In some ways we are not good for each other.  I love him but the fighting drives me crazy.

I have been trying to head back to basics in the last few days.  Thinking about blogging (and then doing so), getting started in individual art therapy, taking meds like I am supposed to.  Going to my bazillion appointments.

Still not enough.  I have had numerous med adjustments.  I , continue to be suicidally depressed, am cycling through anger and irritability every few hours, chest crushing anxiety, crying spells several times daily.  I haven’t been able to work even a few hours here and there and I don’t know when I will be able.

My doctor wants me to do ECT, since this bipolar has been so treatment resistant.  I am looking into it and think I will do it as soon as I get medical clearance.  Because really, this shit has to end somewhere. Somehow.

Treading Water, Full Speed Ahead

**TW FOR SUICIDAL IDEATION**

Stuck in time-space travel, living too far into the future, no focus, hyper-focused, zero attention span.  Do not care.  About that (although a little troublesome) or about much.  I’ve let most things I love and care about drop around my feet slowly, starting in August of last year, when my world was given the big smack-down and everything changed.

I’ve cycled through some hypomania and have as of late been mired in depression and super-fun mixed episodes, with a bit of giddy mania sandwiched in.  I have dropped blogging, family, friends, personal hygiene, my TV shows, my music, my books, my sanity, and the smoking and weight loss kick to find myself with a new boyfriend and far too much change and far too much crying, several times a day, every day.  Something is not right.

I feel as if I am living in a different world.  I don’t do the things that ground me.  I am trying new things and they sometimes make me quite miserable.  Cutting off ties to certain people leaves my belly churning and my chest tight.  On the flip of that, I am deliriously happy, ecstatic even at times.  And in the middle, irritable, wounded, striking out.  I am all and I am none.

I am eating Hamburger Helper and Ramen noodles and instant mashed potatoes, even though I can cook, and do cook well.  My body is so parched for moisture from a lack of self-care, that my feet are cracked, my skin rough, my hair thinning.  I do not recognize myself in a mirror.  I have important phone calls to make to set up appointments for my health and should try and see family more, but all I really want to do is stay up all night being whacked or lying in bed all day, broken.

I want to retain the good parts of my life and explore the new, rid myself of the negative or unhelpful, but I can’t make myself care enough to do anything about it.  I probably look fine, even good on the outside, like I am doing well.  But in mind and heart I have gone away.

I sometimes think about throwing myself on the mercy of the psychiatric hospital, or the local crisis services, but I don’t, because that only burdens everyone.  I stay safe because I keep boyfriend Larry at my side as much as I can.  There is only so much one can do, though, and he will get tired.  As with any other relationship, I am probably wrecking this one already with my craziness.

No real worries, friends.  I will keep on keeping myself safe.  These are only thoughts and feelings.  Reality is that there is love in my life and I would never do anything to hurt or abandon anyone in that fashion.

 

 

 

 

Long Time, No Type-Type, Friends

I was afraid to look back at my blog and see the last time I posted, but I knew it had been awhile.  No particular excuse, other than living life and trying to get through the mess of the holidays and the mess and aftermath of parental divorce and enjoying the awesomeness of meeting someone new.

I have missed reading blogs for a few weeks now, but am going to start setting aside time to do that again, so you should see me popping up on your page every now and then again.  I miss the interaction on this blog, in the comments, between blogs, what have you.  I miss my blogging friends!

Seems that something of an Internet break was much-needed.  I think it is too easy to get wrapped up in writing and commenting and following and liking and more reading, writing, commenting.  Between WP and FB, I was spending far too many hours staring at a computer screen and here lately have started to remember what life is really all about.

It’s about love and family and friends.  Dogs and movies and conversation.  The little things, the big things — life doesn’t happen solely online, although you can live a mostly online life if you would like.  I started to recall the last few years of my life the other day and realized I had spent quite a a bit of it online.

I don’t regret any of that — the reading, the writing, the friendships.  For me, however, I have to have more and I wasn’t really allowing that to happen.  Over just the past few weeks, I feel like I have come alive.  Granted, there was some mania in there, but lately I feel like I have made some really good decisions and I feel good.  That’s right.  I feel happy and content and (mostly) free from anxiety.

Prior to my Internet departure, I was taking Klopin PRNs daily, but since, I have only taken one or two.  I have re-learned how to soothe myself and have remembered how to look out for numero uno.  I have reintroduced openness, love, and hope into the equation.  I am seeing someone very dear to me and am having the best of times with it.

Who knew I could ever do these things or feel these feelings again?  Nearing the end of 2013, I made a resolution that I was done with men.  They were all jerks.  So, I stopped looking and stopped caring, and lo and behold, the loveliest relationship is now blossoming.  It seems that the old wise words are true — when you stop looking, it will happen.  When you least expect it.  Indeed.

 

Breaking the Habit — Talking About Joy and Gratitude

joys

RANDOM GRATITUDE LIST

1) The youthful exuberance brought to my two best friends by increasing exercise and having a companion.  The barking DOES get a bit obsessive, though.

2) 2014 is almost over and I have not been in the hospital since the summer, although it is likely a few times I should have gone.

3) Deciding to rededicate myself to meditation and mindfulness.

4) Making concrete plans and seeking medical advice to lose weight in 2015.

5) Becoming more serious about the few things in my life that I can pinpoint as activities that really DO matter in the overall scheme of things.  Must, however, find more of these things.

6) Making a conscious decision not to lose sleep over things I can’t change.  You have to turn that over in your mind again and again.

7) Being brave enough to reach out to people I am at odds with.

8) Better place to blog and do other computer tasks.

9) New-to-me car to replace the PT Cruiser I totaled a month ago (not my fault, was struck by a driver not yielding to a stop sign).  The new car is a bright blue 2006 Chevy HHR and it is CUTE and fun to drive.  And if anyone needs help hauling a dead body, it also has a huge cargo space.

10) Feeling a certainty that I can make my life better, regardless of the status of the lives around me.

Question of the day…

Do you think you are addicted to talking about your problems?  Sometimes a little thankfulness goes a long way!

PS to my wonderful readers — turns out as I  publish this, it notifies me this is post 590.  600 posts seems HUGE!  I will bring cookies, someone grab a bunch of egg nog.  :)


 

The Biggest Gift I Could Receive from Divorcing Parents

I have been doing better here lately, there is no doubt about that.  Unfortunately, over the last week or so, I have started to do things like, a) not be able to sleep or b) cry uncontrollably for hours on end, and c) deal with suicidal ideation.  The sleep has been better in the past three days and I am hoping it stays that way because that just makes it all the more difficult.

Holiday times have always been important in my immediate family.  There have always been big lunches and dinners and the tallest Christmas tree that can be found and cookie baking and house decorating and prepping recipes and menus for days on end.  I mean, they were huge for us.  This year has been a stark reminder of just how upside-down life is right now.

For one thing, there is no QoB and Big Dawg.  They won’t even talk to each other, nevertheless see each other.  I mean, I guess I should have seen this coming, but they absolutely hate each other, if the words they say are true.  Words that I am pretty sure I don’t want to listen to but end up hearing all the (fucking) time anyway.

I don’t think they understand how devastating that is, to your child, to disparage your soon-to-be ex-husband or ex-wife in front of said child.  No matter that this child is 33 years old and Ab is 32.  There was all this drama in the beginning and then they were both adamant that I be kept out of it.

It is slowly creeping back in.  I understand (not really) that they can’t stand each other, but they both need to keep the shitty remarks, comments, insults, etc out of my face.  And its not one doing it more than the other, although Mom is trying harder not to do it around me.  But as with anything, you inadvertently get either of them on a roll, and it’s all downhill (for me) from there.  No one wants to bash their mom or their dad.  If the parents want to, then they need to call a friend or find a therapist.  Actually, they could both use a therapist at this point, and that is me being generous, because they both really needed one long ago.

So what am I to do?  Well, the correct answer should be — support your parents while they are going through this hard time.  And you know, I can still in a lot of ways, but in some ways I can’t.  At different times, they are so upset that they can’t even be in the same room with me, nevertheless talk with me or even text over the phone.  Ok then, there goes two major supporters.  The two peop;le that have been there for me all my fucking life, now as if they have disappeared off the face of the Earth at times.

And that’s not to say they don’t try, because they do.  But they are both in such a bad place, both so unhappy, angry, anxious, stressed, heartbroken that they aren’t always able to be there and I really do get that.

Frankly, I can’t handle this level of stress in my life.  Even when they keep it to themselves, which is definitely not all the time, I am just barely making it.  I am letting household duties fall by the wayside, I am not practicing my DBT skills well or often enough, and all I want to do is distract, distract, distract.  In fact, I have pretty much distracted since August of this year, right before my birthday, when things really started getting ugly.

So, no, I don’t want my parents to get back together.  I want them to TRY to heal instead of being stubborn and thinking they can do everything on their own.  I want them to take the advice they would give me in the same situation.  I want there to be more common sense and less anger.  Maybe even a bit of being polite — I do see a tiny bit of it from both parties.

But more than anything, I really don’t want to hear anymore negative speeches, from one about the other.  No more snide remarks, comments, jokes.  I am your daughter, and I deserve that much respect.