The Slip into Depression, Stagnating Uprise


From  Ms. Greene


It’s the turn of the seasons, and like clockwork, my mood shifted too.  Already going through a stressful time, the little neurochemicals in my brain started going extra haywire around the time change (which coincided with crap weather for my area) and I forgot and lost a grip on all I at one time treasured.  And maybe that’s really too charitable.

I had been losing a grip on the things I cared about for a long time.  Staying in more, doing less, hibernating, not talking to friends online or otherwise, not blogging, not keeping with other blogs, not reading, not watching TV, playing with the pups.  Literally, just doing nothing.  And not really caring.

Now, today, I can say I care a little bit, but it comes and it comes and it goes and for the last long while I have cared very little about much of anything, particularly not my own well-being.  Those feelings will come back, I know, maybe when I am done writing this post, or the hours where the sun sets, or tomorrow sometime.

For the meantime, I can pretend that I care about my life, my well-being, myself in general.  It will get me just so far.  I can go through the motions of things people say are supposed to make me feel better.  Maybe that will eventually get me stronger, get me more ready to take on the world everyday, so I  can not cry anytime someone other than a customer at work asks me how I am doing.

So I will try, in my head and my feet, my heart and spirit aren’t there yet.  Maybe a day soon upcoming.  I always come out of a depression slowly.  This one has been dragging on for a while and I know it will end at some point in time (deep in my head I know that, but my heart forgets) and I will plead to the Gods Of Bipolarity to not send me a mixed or manic episode, but to humor me with something close to stability.

Crazy is The New Normal

 Mama’s Seven Weeks of Weird asks the question:


 What is the weirdest thing about you that people don’t usually know?

Well, the answer to that is, I really don’t know.  I don’t consider myself ALL that weird, I guess.  Sure there were times, back in school when I felt like I was kind of the “weird” one, but it wasn’t so much weirdness as it was just being socially anxious and awkward.

After I accepted that I had bipolar disorder, I thought that made me kind of strange, a little weird.  To be mentally ill, in my circle, that was weird.  I still every once in awhile today think of all the “weird” things that go along with having bipolar disorder.  But then I shrug my shoulders, because that’s just how it is and it’s not going away.

 It helps tremendously to be active in the WP mental health blogging community.  There is such a sense of togetherness and  understanding and compassion.  None of these people think you’re being weird, whereas a friend or family member might.  Nope, those are called *symptoms*!

For the longest time I thought that my sister thought I was “weird” because of my bipolar.  And she kinda did.  But she has accepted me now with open arms and there is not  a single person inside my circle that doesn’t know I deal with bipolar disorder and there is not a single person in that circle who belittles me for it.  As it should be, and as I wish it for everyone.

We are all just people, weird or not.  I’m very thankful that I could overcome my “weirdness” and just be this super-cool chick who happens to have bipolar disorder.  Life is much more fun that way.



And that lovely and large and purple section at the top is thanks to a quick HTML course taught to me by Bradley of Green Embers.  Yay for Bradley!  (it’s actually easier than you might think!)

From Mentally Ill to Physically Ill

This has not been the greatest month for me.  I’ve had mixed episodes, rapid cycling, a stint in the local inpatient psych hospital.  I fee like I’m finally getting better from all of that, with the thanks of Abilify.  Hooray for progress!

So now, now that I should be able to go back to work and help the folks out and get out of the house and drive myself places, I’m sick.  WebMd had me convinced that I had bacterial pneumonia:

  • Cough, often producing mucus, also called sputum, from the lungs. Mucus may be rusty or green or tinged with blood.
  • Fever, which may be less common in older adults.
  • Shaking, “teeth-chattering” chills.
  • Fast, often shallow, breathing and the feeling of being short of breath.
  • Chest wall pain that is often made worse by coughing or breathing in.
  • Fast heartbeat.
  • Feeling very tired or weak.
  • Nausea and vomiting.
  • Diarrhea

I mean, I have every single on of those symptoms, some of them in the severe category.  So yesterday, I decided I was going to go see my doctor.  I was a little wary because she hadn’t ever seemed too thorough in my first two visits to her, but I was going to give it a go, and if all else failed go to the urgent care clinic across the street.

But I was proud of my doctor.  She took my concerns seriously.  She even took a chest x-ray.  She decided I have gastroenteritis (stomach flu) and a chest infection.  So, I’m on my way with Zofram (anti-nausea) and a Z-pack (antibiotics).  Too bad those things don’t make you feel 1000% better right after you take them.

I am on a clear liquids diet until noon tomorrow, at which point I start the BRAT diet for “as long as it takes to feel better.  3-5 days.”  BRAT stands for bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast.  I’m sure at that point I’ll just be happy to be able to eat anything solid without my insides imploding.

I still haven’t been able to get my fever down, so am changing clothes a lot.  It’s probably close to 90 degrees here and I went to the appointment in sweatpants and a sweatshirt.  Now I’m home in the cool AC and I’m hot.  I’ve thought about getting in the pool and then wondered if that would be a very good idea.  Probably not.

Mom has been a lifesaver with bringing me a thermometer, soup, and Sprite yesterday and she was also awesome today and brought me my Rxs, more Sprite, and some red Gatorade.  You can’t count on everyone, but you can always count on your momma.  At least I can.

No one is really wanting to come over and visit and no one has in a few days so it’s getting a bit lonely.  I have been doing a lot of reading, napping, and reading blogs on the computer.  I am sure that once the fever goes down and I have Lysol’d my  house that I’ll be able to get Dad or Mom to come by.  In the meantime, I’ll just have to keep entertaining myself.  At least my mood is tons better.  That I’m really thankful for!

Getting the Real Answer

“How are you?”

“How are you doing?”

“How are things?”

“How is your day going?”

Innocuous little questions, right?  They’re just a transitional phrase used to get to the next part of the desired conversation.  Usually, that is.  I often don’t know when I should respond with “terrible” or “fine.”  My tendency to lead towards fine is there, but at the same time, if I’m not quite honest, more is expected out of me in the ensuing conversation than I may be able to give.

Of course, if your therapist or your pdoc is asking, you’re going to tell it like it is.  Hopefully, anyway.  I went back to see Dr. Wizard today and explained to him my symptoms.  Continued depression, brain fog, returned crying spells, poor sleep, and racing thoughts.  He decided to keep the Geodon where it’s at (180mg) and increase the Abilify (now 10mg).  He also prescribed more sleeping medication (the same stuff as before) except at twice the strength.  He says, depending on how my July 9th appointment goes, we will lower the Geodon some more and raise the Abilify.  It was in my best interests during this conversation to be as candid with the good doc as possible.

Now I get back to town and I run into work to do a couple quick errands.  One of the employees (who knows where I was last week) asked me how I was doing and I gave him the standard, “hanging in there,” answer.  It wasn’t appropriate in that situation to tell him how shitty I feel, but at the same time it would be rude to blow a lie into  his face about how great I’m feeling.  I did my two little errands and ran off — it was hard to be there with customers and worrying if the customers will speak to me and how I will respond.  I’m just not ready to be back yet.  I hope I will be soon; just not yet.

Then I ran into the Big Dawg.  He also wanted to know how I was doing, so I said, “crappy, but I will be fine.”  Of course, this is some variation on the truth.  I do feel crappy, but everything will turn out in the long run.  He seemed happy to see me out and about, so I didn’t want to burst his bubble too terribly much.  At the same time I didn’t want to give him false hope, because the chances of him seeing me in a crying jag in the near future are pretty high.

By the time I got to Mom’s house, I was teetering on the edge.  I told her all about how bad I felt and how non-functional I was and of course, I cried.  Cried my eyes out and whined and cried some more.  Thank goodness at this point she is used to it and doesn’t freak out when this happens.  She told me to “chillax” for awhile and she was going to do some planting in her garden.  The theory was that we were going to get to the grocery store for me today.  I hope we do, because I don’t have any food, but at the same time, I am dreading it.

When my blog demands the questions, “how are you?”, sometimes I just lie and make things sound better than they really are.  Sometimes I am honest, too honest, and I feel exposed.  Today is one of those days I will be honest.

I am sleep-deprived and sleepy, all at the same time.  I am feeling positive that I was able to see my therapist yesterday and Dr. Wizard today.  I am hopeful that these med changes will be great ones and I”m hoping like hell I don’t have to go into the hospital again.  My brain feels foggy and like I can’t pay attention, and driving is almost scary at this point.  I have very little ability to concentrate.  I feel sad, depressed, out-of-sorts.  I feel kind of like someone close to me just died and I am going through a grieving process.  I am anxious and skittish.  I feel afraid for what lies ahead, in the short term and long term.

I spent the entire 45 minute drive to therapy yesterday replaying conversations with DSB in my head and thinking that maybe it’s MY fault that he treated me the way he did and that I should have done something differently so he would have stayed.  Except, I didn’t want him to stay is what I finally realized.  Why he should come up at a time like this, I don’t know.  Maybe because he was here the last time the shit hit the fan.  Perhaps.

I feel guilty because I am barely reading any blogs, but will start doing more of that when I am able.  I know everyone is writing great stuff, so if you see that I came by and liked something but didn’t comment, it’s not personal.  I am just unable to string a few words together sometimes, but I want you to know that I stopped by.

I feel guilty I am not working, am not cooking, am not cleaning, am not doing much of anything.  I feel like a leech on my parents, but they continue to assure me this is not the case.  I feel like I am harrassing the mental health center, and while this may be true, I am in need of help and I will fight for it.

Because there’s one thing I do have, out of all the negative emotions and feelings, I still have FIGHT left within myself and I will not let bipolar disorder get one over on me at this point.

Building Rome, Do or Die

It’s my third week of Building Rome, and, even though I’m a little behind my Monday original start date, I have good excuses.  Green Embers  puts together this little blog-fest, where we chose goals one week, and then the next week report on those goals and set some more goals.  This week’s theme is “Imagination, No Passport Required.”  I have a real lack of imagination at the moment, and the rules of the blog-fest are flexible, so my rules are going to be able taking care of me.  Being kind to Rosa.

Last Week’s Goals

1) Take Kizzie for a walk at least three times for at least 15 minutes this week.  Needless to say, this didn’t happen.  I was in a really bad  place last week and walking the Kizz was the furthest thing from my mind.  Maybe next week!

2) Set aside time each morning to read in the devotional book that my mom’s best friend, Glo gave me.  Nope, this didn’t happen either.  I have a really hard time reading or concentrating on anything in that state.

3) Continue to not smoke.  I decided (and my pdoc and treatment team at the hospital agreed) that I need to be in a better place to do this, and that trying to do this mid-cycle and with a hospitalization stuck in the midst was not a good time.  It will still be a long-term goal.

Four Things of Always

1) Take meds as prescribed.  Check!

2) Take care of Kizzie’s needs.  Check!  (alth0ugh Grandma t0ok care of and spoiled little Kizzers all week while I was in the hospital.

3) Take care of personal hygiene daily.  I am pleased to report that I have finally taken a shower every single day of the week, including when I was in the hospital.  I actually look forward to it now.  Who woulda thought?

4) Work on healthy eating.  I didn’t do too badly at this, mostly because I was in the hospital although they have great food there.

Four Things of Do or Die

1) Keep up with my “always list.”  Routines and rituals and taking care of my self are a must right now.

2) Spend at least two hours a day outside, no matter what.

3) Walk Kizz for 10 minutes every day this week.

4) Finish getting house in order.  It’s very clean, but a bit scattered in places.

Where Has Rosa Been?

This is going to be a hard post to write, but I know its necessary.  I feel so much shame and embarrassment, it’s unreal.  I know I shouldn’t.  I know it will be pointed out to me that I have a disease and I was doing what I had to do to manage it.  I guess I just thought I was managing better than I actually was.

There will be no sugar-coating here, just a synopsis of the last several days, and then maybe I can move forward and start posting again.

I have seen so much progress over the course of the last six weeks, so maybe it seemed like everything was fine.  Everything, my friends, was far from fine.  True, I was making progress, but I was also sinking deeper and deeper into a cycle, where I finally came to the point that I was suicidal.  I didn’t feel like I could go on with how things currently were.  I was desparate for relief and knew the only solution was to go see my pdoc again and see if my meds could be changed again.

I went to the city to see Dr. Wizard on Thursday afternoon, and by 5:0o pm, was headed into an inpatient psychiatric hospital ward.  I was really nervous because I had been to this place before and had only managed about 36 hours before demanding to be set free.  That’s just how horrible it was this last time.  This time I had no choice.  No other beds were open in my part of the state.  I decided I would give it a try.

The non-stop crying spells lasted from Thursday through Sunday.  You couldn’t do anything less than smile at me, and I’d be uncontrollably sobbing.  The majority of the staff were exceptionally nice, and the other patients left me along for the most part.

I was very lucky that my dad came and saw me on each visitation.  It really meant a lot to me, and he brought snacks and change for the soda machines so I could have a little caffeine.  We didn’t talk much, it seems, during our visits.  It was nice knowing he was there, though.

I talked to QoB a few times each day.  The store was really busy while I was gone, so they weren’t able to make it out, but I understood.  What would have happened is that I would have started crying and then QoB would have started crying and we wouldn’t be able to stop.  No parent wants to see their kid in this shape.

I saw the ARNP on Friday and she is taking me off Geodon and adding Ablify.  So far, it seems to have pepped me up some.  I am still experiencing  extreme anxiety and a fair amount of depression.  I really hope I start to feel better soon because I don’t want to go back.

I have developed a very low, extremely low tolerance for any kind of bullshit, so there’s not a lot I can take.  I feel like I should have seen this coming sooner and done something drastic, but as Dr. Wizard says, there was nothing he could do medically outside of send me to the hospital.  I guess I understand that.

So now I’m back and I’m still teary and kind of depressed and really anxious.  And foggy.  But I’m back.  I hope to be able to start posting regularly soon.  Fingers and toes and eyes crossed.

Widely Vascillating Mood Changes

Over the past few weeks,  I have had many successes.  Progress has been made, indeed.  The mixed episode is still going strong, unfortunately, and sleep and social interactions have been quite bothered.

Yesterday, I was very up and I was very down.  I was angry and pissy and entitled.  I rode roughshod over people’s feelings, and I do feel badly about that.  I didn’t realize just how much my moods were swinging until it all came to a crash today.

Today, I went to visit my mother and, although I had already apologized in an email, I apologized face to face for being so hateful.  I explained that it felt like people don’t want to deal with me when I am at my worst, especially her, and that sometimes all I need is a 30-second phone call or text to put my fears to the side.  She tried to explain to me how this wasn’t possible.

I really lost it, swung completely into a depression where I actually pondered checking myself into the local psych hospital.  I mean, REALLY pondered it.  I felt, in that moment, like I had no hope and that no one around me cared.  Like I had no one I could reach out to.  Of course this is not the case, but this is how I was FEELING.

I felt like being totally self-destructive but I couldn’t get out of the crying jag I was in.  A little bit of talk down the road, and I’m back to fine and don’t recognize the me crying my eyes out and talking about being through with life.

I hate these mood swings.  Up and down and all around.  Sinking me into a pit of despair before being lifted up into a mixed mess of hypomania and agitation.  Surely bipolar disorder isn’t meant to be like this.  Surely I am alone in my symptoms and my mood swings.  I mean, I AM special, after all.

It seems like I don’t talk about these mood swings with Goddess of Mindfulness because we are so busy talking about other things.  Well, these mood swings might just be the MOST IMPORTANT things to talk about.  If I swing really low and I am by myself, I cry and cry and cry.  If I am with other people, I cry and swear and am very angry.  When I’m up, its as if nothing is wrong except some extra energy and a bit of agitation.

I told my mom earlier that I can’t keep going on like this.  I don’t mean that as a suicidal statement, just as a fact — I can’t keep doing this.  It’s killing me and it’s hurting the people around me.  I don’t know how to stop doing it and I can’t get in to see my psychiatrist until the first part of August.  Almost two months away.  I don’t know that I should wait that long.

So, depending on what time of day it is, you may or may not get a Rose that  you are otherwise unaccustomed to.  There is the happy Rose and the free spirit Rose and the crying and devastated Rose and the hopeless Rose and the goal-centered Rose.  They are all the same person, but each one of them comes and goes of their own volition.

I try and  use my DBT skills when I start feeling an episode coming on, but it’s hard.  It’s fucking hard!  Like I said before, maybe I should go back to diary cards.  I really hate doing them, but I know they will help.  What I do know is that I’ve got to get this ship on an even keel because the lows can be a killer, as can the highs.  I need somewhere in between.

Who I Am

Here we are, Day 37 post DSB-break-up.  I couldn’t be more thrilled with my new-found freedom, spare time, lack of anxiety, and re-connection with family.  I mean thrilled, over-the-moon.  What I am less thrilled with is the basic and simple fact that I have to work, REALLY HARD, at figuring out this new life again.

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You know, what it means to be single, to not be tied down.  While I used to have a very rigid schedule, everything is very loose now.  It bothers me, to a degree.  I feel like I am reinventing Rosa, and in a way, I guess I am.  The Rosa of the past two years put up with way too much shit, had her self-esteem slowly chipped away, and mentally blocked out all of the “wrongness” that was the relationship with DSB.

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But I see it now.  I see it clearly.  I see where I should have stood my ground, made different choices, forced him to leave much earlier in the game.  The minute he tried keeping me from my family, or badmouthing them, I should have ended it.  I didn’t, and I have nightmares about it, frankly.  About how I gave up my family for a relationship that really wasn’t all that great, or healthy.

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I feel a lot of shame, am actually really burdened down by shame and guilt.  The Rosa of the last two years is not the Rosa I want to be.  And I’m changing things, sometimes in little steps, sometimes in huge leaps of faith.  It’s hard, though.  I have great family and friend support, but I am lacking something.  I think I know what it is, but I’m not positive.  What I think I am facing is a deep sense of uncertainty and insecurity.

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Because I feel like I’m reinventing myself, I also feel like I don’t know who I really am.  I’m uncertain about what I like and don’t like, what I will put up with and I won’t.  I worry that my reactions to certain things are either over-the-top or not intense enough.  I feel wildly varying emotions about so many issues, so many people, so many subjects, and just so many things.  And along with that, I have had two cycles in the past month, and just when I’m feeling good, something crops up and I feel like all the progress I have made has been obliterated.

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I’m not saying that’s how it is, but just that it FEELS that way.  I feel lost a lot of the time, and a lot of the time I’m putting on a happy face when inside I’m in a rage about something or I’m so agitated I can barely focus on what it is I’m supposed to be doing.  Lost.  Lost.  Lost.  I am like a ship out at sea that has lost it’s navigational system.  No way back to dry land, to safety.  But isn’t it safe HERE?  NOW?

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I am good with life changing, but it seems so huge, so dramatic.  I feel like a totally different person now than when I was with DSB.  It feels good to be able to do what I want to be, but there is so much uncertainty now.  Before, I knew where I had to be at what times and what I was supposed to be doing.  Now, there is no plan, there is no schedule.  I’m living life flying by the seat of my pants and it terrifies me.  I don’t feel secure in this person I am trying to be and I feel very unsure about what I should be doing on a minute-to-minute basis.  Before, it was all planned out and orchestrated.  Now, well, like I said!  Seat of your pants!

When this song first came out, my grandpa had passed, but my grandma was still around.  I’d substitute Grandma’s name for the one in the song, and the line about looking like my dad and momma being my biggest fan were (and still are) SO TRUE.  This song really grounded me during a time where, again, I didn’t know who I was.  I’ve listened to it four times now on repeat, after writing everything above (which frankly, needed to come out either way), and it is grounding me again, like it once did back when times were rough.

If I live to be a hundred
And never see the seven wonders
That’ll be alright
If I don’t make it to the big leagues
If I never win a Grammy
I’m gonna be just fine
Cause I know exactly who I am

I am Rosemary’s granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And when the day is done my momma’s still my biggest fan
Sometimes I’m clueless and I’m clumsy
But I’ve got friends that love me
And they know just where I stand
It’s all a part of me
And that’s who I am

So when I make a big mistake
And when I fall flat on my face
I know I’ll be alright
Should my tender heart be broken
I will cry those teardrops knowing
I will be just fine
Cause nothing changes who I am

I am Rosemary’s granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And when the day is done my momma’s still my biggest fan
Sometimes I’m clueless and I’m clumsy
But I’ve got friends that love me
And they know just where I stand
It’s all a part of me
And that’s who I am

I’m a saint and I’m a sinner
I’m a loser; I’m a winner
I am steady and unstable
I’m young, but I am able

I am Rosemary’s granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And when the day is done my momma’s still my biggest fan
Sometimes I’m clueless and I’m clumsy
But I’ve got friends that love me
And they know where I stand
It’s all a part of me
And that’s who I am

I am Rosemary’s granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And when the day is done my momma’s still my biggest fan
Sometimes I’m clueless and I’m clumsy
But I’ve got friends that love me
And they know where I stand
It’s all a part of me
And that’s who I am
That’s who I am



Ten Things of Thankful, Birthday Edition!

Remember, you can join Ten Things of Thankful by linking up with Liz at Considerings.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy (I’m not sure that’s how that goes, but I don’t really give an eff, because it rhymes. Just call me Big Dawg if that ain’t it.).

Banner is courtesty of Mental Mama, and that link will also take you directly to her TToT for the week.

Without any further adieu:



1)  Maybe I should have been like Mama and labeled mine “10 Things That Didn’t Suck This Week.”  That’s kind of how I’m feeling.  My first thankfully thank-you, though, IS to Mama.  We were chatting and I am pretty sure I was moaning about how I really just needed a six-pack of Budweiser Cheladas (I don’t drink), and she brought DBT right into the picture.  Practice opposite to emotion.  My main emotion right now is intense anger and anxiety, directed at ol’ DSB (who can do nothing about all the shitty things he has done, even if he wanted to), so I am doing TToT because it makes me joyful and hopeful.  You get that — joyful and hopeful being opposite to anger and anxiety?  Sometimes I forget.  😦

deep emotion


2)  I am thankful for the support of my family.  I promise, this TToT will not be a rerun, because I always mention family, but it’s just THAT DAMN IMPORTANT.  My family is everything to me and sometimes, I lose sight of how hard this is on THEM, to always be there for me, someone who has special and magical bipolar powers.  For a perfect explanation, go to yesterday’s entry and read the comment from QueenofDaNile (mom).  I read that this morning and it made total sense.  For the first time in a long time, actually, it made sense.  I would copy and paste, but you wouldn’t get the full effect unless you read the post, as well.



3)  I am thankful for large packages of toilet paper and paper towels.  When  you’re buying them, you’re thinking, “Nine dollars?!  Really?!” but it’s so nice to rarely run out.  Thank you, Madre, for teaching me this invaluable lesson (and buying the last package of TP!)



4)  I am thankful my sister is going to come help me clean this gawdawful mess up on the 10th.  I’m nervous, too, though.  What if she sees the squalor and runs?  What if I can’t keep up?  Ok, frankly, what happens when I can’t keep up?  I just keep remembering her words, “I love you unconditionally.”  “I would never judge you.”  Okay, breathing in and out now.  In, out, in, out.


5) Feeling a bit more frivolous as we go, and not to say that TToT is frivolous, but let’s all eat a piece of cake this weekend, because it is TToT’s 1st birthday!  I am so thankful I found this gem and I look forward to it every week.  I have missed a couple of times and I was always so disappointed when I didn’t make the deadline.

Ten Things of Thankful Birthday Banner


6) I am thankful for all the new toiletries and laundry stuff that my dad hooked me up with.  I am smelling clean all the way around, and I kinda like it.  The people around me probably appreciate it as well.  I hate to shower, and the soaps he bought me are very motivating.  And who knew that buying Tide would be a big difference after buying the $7 Purex all these years?  And having dryer sheets again has been phenomenal.  Now if I just had some elves to come put all this laundry away!


7) I am thankful that I was too lazy tonight to go and spend my grocery money on ice cream.  I really reaaaaaallly wanted a salted caramel shake from Sonic, a little bit of heaven, but I resisted.  That’s $2 I’ll have to buy healthier stuff with, and I’m not packing extra poundage onto my rear end.



8) I am extremely thankful that the Kizz Wizz was not injured and did not escape when a huge limb came crashing out of a tree in my back yard a couple days ago.  It happened while I was at work, and I was beyond relieved to see her trotting out her doggie door toward me.  Big thanks also to the tree service who were here the next day and totally took care of things in a matter of hours, including cleaning up after themselves.  The Big Dawg came and put the fence back up, and now we’re in business.

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Not my yard, but a branch just that big!

9) I am thankful for all suggestions for new music.  After DSB, I am so sick to death of country that I could spit.  It’s on the radio all the time at work, all the presets in my car are set to it (there is not a decent radio station anywhere around here), and the only times I can get away are either with silence or Pandora.  Too bad Pandora doesn’t come in your car…or does it?

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10) Last but not least, I am very pleased that my local library APPEARS to have the entire Jack Reacher collection, as well as one other (that I’m blanking on the name of, but that Marilyn recommended).  And that’s where I’m headed.  I no longer feel angry (in the name of opposite-to-emotion, Mama!).  I feel like I need to lay a good long while in bed and get my book read, as it will be auto-returned for me on the 2nd.




I Need A Hero

Just a few days ago, I was fine.  Bordering on good.  Feeling positive.  Not aware that bipolar disorder was going to smack into me like a Mack truck.  Not aware that all of those good feelings and positive thoughts would completely disintegrate.  I don’t know why I’m always so surprised.  This is always how it goes.  This is what bipolar disorder does.  It takes your perfect little sandcastle and dumps a boatload of water on it.  And then you’re drowning.

I am flailing at this point.  I have not been able to gather any willingness about me as of yet.  I am struggling and I am drowning.  I am looking for any outside source to make myself feel better when I know, deep down, that it resides in myself.  It matters not.  It appears that the people who are always in my corner may have become, over time, less sympathetic to my plight.

Well, that’s what it feels like, even if it’s not reality.  It feels like they are sick to death of the crazy Rose and only want the “feeling good” Rose around.  I can see it in their eyes, which they avert when I look directly at them.  I can sense it in the body language, the old, “oh, here we go again” shrug of shoulders.  The lack of a hug, the lack of an “I love you.”  The not being able to meet me in the eyes.  The plain and simple walking away.  I, and this 15 year bout with mental illness, have left them drained.

I don’t know what other people think, when a person with bipolar disorder goes through a long remission of symptoms.  Are they thinking maybe the symptoms won’t come back?  Or that they won’t be as bad?  Or that the person dealing with the disorder has the skills so will surely be able to fix herself?

What I do know is that this is two cycles in a month.  That’s a lot for any family to have to deal with, especially after such a long period of remission.  Are the fears back that this will go on and on?  Maybe.  I can’t ask because I don’t know that I want to hear the answer.  I know my family will stand by me, but I can’t help feeling all alone.

I really don’t know.  What I do know is that I do an awful lot of my pain and suffering in silence, because I don’t want to bother anyone.  And when I DO reach out, I am guilty and ashamed.  Why am I ashamed of something I have been dealing with for so long?  Because I see what it does to the people around me.  I’m not saying they would, but there is a small possibility in the back of my brain says that they could get tired of loving me if this keeps going on.

And it will keep going on.  My bipolar disorder is CHRONIC, as in, not going away.  I will have to deal with this the rest of my life, and I’m just not sure I can sometimes.  I’m not getting ready to do anything stupid, but those thoughts are there.  It’s never good when the thoughts are there.

I want to affirm and reaffirm that I will never take my own life.  I know that would destroy people that love me.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.  Over the years, I have always kept myself from doing it in one way or another.  Right now, my nephew and my pup, are the two things keeping me going.  I don’t want Kizz to ever be without her momma and I want to watch my nephew grow up.  Those are two good reasons to keep fighting.  They are what I think of when I think I can’t do this anymore.

So for now, I’ll keep moving on.  I’ll take the extra meds the pdoc prescribed and I’ll try and stay busy and I’ll keep blogging on here.  There is a part of me that desperately wants to reach out to someone, but I know that maybe, for now, I have maxed that person out.  It is sad to me that I have done this, but it’s been a long row to hoe.  And we’ve only made it through the strawberry patch so far.



I’m just a step away
I’m just a breath away
Losin’ my faith today
(Fallin’ off the edge today)

I am just a man
Not superhuman
(I’m not superhuman)
Someone save me from the hate

It’s just another war
Just another family torn
(Falling from my faith today)
Just a step from the edge
Just another day in the world we live

I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero (save me now)
I need a hero to save my life
A hero’ll save me (just in time)

I’ve gotta fight today
To live another day
Speakin’ my mind today
(My voice will be heard today)

I’ve gotta make a stand
But I am just a man
(I’m not superhuman)
My voice will be heard today

It’s just another war
Just another family torn
(My voice will be heard today)
It’s just another kill
The countdown begins to destroy ourselves


I need a hero to save my life
I need a hero just in time
Save me just in time
Save me just in time

Who’s gonna fight for what’s right
Who’s gonna help us survive
We’re in the fight of our lives
(And we’re not ready to die)

Who’s gonna fight for the weak
Who’s gonna make ’em believe
I’ve got a hero (I’ve got a hero)
Livin’ in me

I’m gonna fight for what’s right
Today I’m speaking my mind
And if it kills me tonight
(I will be ready to die)

A hero’s not afraid to give his life
A hero’s gonna save me just in time


I need a hero
Who’s gonna fight for what’s right
Who’s gonna help us survive

I need a hero
Who’s gonna fight for the weak
Who’s gonna make ’em believe
I need a hero
I need a hero

A hero’s gonna save me just in time