The Song

Received a missed call from a Colorado number about a week after DSB left. Received a mail forwarding notification from Colorado about a week later. I’m not even TRYING to go back to that, and I’m trying not to think about it.

I think this song sums it up perfectly (that and I’m ragingly emotional from loss of cigarettes…Day Two, you kicked my ass).

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My Current, Personal Pep-Talk

The song below was brought to my brain, courtesy of my dear friend, Mental Mama.  She shared it as a song that reminds her of her significant other, and, as she says,

And it actually depends on the day which of us is “singing” this to the other. 

I have literally played this song over 50 times in the past two days, usually on a continuous loop.  I’ve emailed it to my mom, I’ve told my dad about it, I’m humming it under my breath.  It’s there, it’s stuck.

MM and her significant other may “sing” this to each other, but I think it works for me to sing it to MYSELF.  Read the lyrics, listen to the song.  I am singing JUST THAT to myself.  I’m giving myself a constant pep talk.  I’m not giving up on me or who I am.

When I look into your eyes
It’s like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
Well, there’s so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you’ve come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?Well, I won’t give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I’m giving you all my love
I’m still looking up

And when you’re needing your space
To do some navigating
I’ll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

‘Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We’ve got a lot to learn
God knows we’re worth it
No, I won’t give up

I don’t wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I’m here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got, yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you’re still my friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn’t break, we didn’t burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I’ve got, and what I’m not, and who I am

I won’t give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I’m giving you all my love
I’m still looking up, still looking up.

Well, I won’t give up on us (no I’m not giving up)
God knows I’m tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We’ve got a lot to learn (we’re alive, we are loved)
God knows we’re worth it (and we’re worth it)

I won’t give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I’m giving you all my love
I’m still looking up

 

Stuck In My Head — a new series

In the comments section over at good friend’s blog (Hi, Sheena!  I’m sending everyone over to give you hell at NotAPunkRocker!), I have been convinced that WP is in need of some country music.  It is sorely underrepresented in all of the music challenge posts that go on, and I feel the need to rectify this.

To do so, I’m creating a new series on my very own blog, called “Stuck In My Head.”  Every so often, I’m gonna do a little brain dump of the songs that are currently stuck in my head.  Almost all of them will likely be country, and I’m hoping to gain some converts to the genre.

Country music gets a bad rap.  I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the, “it’s about a bad day where your dog runs away and your truck gets totaled or stuck in a mudpit and your girlfriend is cheating on you and you can’t get the tears outta your beer.”

Granted, there is some country music like that.  With the new series, I really hope to show the WP world that not ALL country is like that.  If any of my fellow bloggers are country fans and want to join in, that would be super.  Just link to the post and I’ll give you a shout-out in the next week’s edition.

Without further adieu, the top five songs running through my mind this week:

1)  Luke Bryan, Play it Again

You’ll probably see good ol’ Luke popping up on this series maybe once or every other week.  We listen to a lot of  him in this household, as he happens to be one of DSB’s favorites.  I especially like watching his videos because, HELLO, he’s hot!  (benefit of country music is that most male artists wear tight-fittin’ jeans with their boots)

And this song?  This IS my song.  God love ya, Luke, for capturing the essence of Rosa’s excitement for that one particular song.

 

2) Taylor Swift, Mean

Now, Taylor Swift is my GIRL.  She has bipolar disorder, yet is madly famous and down-to-earth and open.  She is probably my favorite female artist, and I have all her work on my MP3.

This particular song?  Kinda a nice version of a big eff-you! to all those people that brought you down growing up.  My favorite lines:

All you are is mean
And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life
And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

I mean, that sums ‘er up for most of the bullies in our life, doesn’t it?

 

3) Dolly Parton, Nine to Five

Dolly may be old school, but this one is a goodie.  Seen the movie?  If not, go rent it now…it’ll knock your socks off!  This is the lament of many a working woman (and/or man) out there.  I used to blast this when I was working at the prison, to blow off a little steam.  You might try the same.  (Sheena, what would  your coworkers think if they heard this coming out of your 0ffice?  LOL!)

 

4) Randy Travis, Look Heart, No Hands

You remember that feeling, right?  Coasting down the hill on your bike, closing your eyes and praying you wouldn’t fall?  Maybe on a dare?  Maybe because you felt so alive.  This song brings me back to my youth, back to when I didn’t have a care in the world, and then to the forefront of love.  And pretty much anything Randy Travis does is golden.  Word.

 

5) The Lacs, Country Boy’s Paradise

That’s right, we took most of America’s hatred for rap and country and combined them.  You have to take a listen, though.  This is a super-fun song that should be played often during the summer months when it’s all about having a good time with friends and family and being out on the water.  The Lacs will also probably make many more appearances on this series, as I totally dig ’em.

Happiness is Right Here

The above song came out right around the time my sister and her (now) husband were planning their wedding.  I think both my mom and I hoped that they would choose it as their wedding song, because it was just so “them.”  Little did we know that they had another very special song in mind.

It seemed like such a magical time.  She had asked me to be her maid of honor, much to my surprise and, er, honor.  I mean really, it meant the world to me that she would ask me to be by her side as she married the man she loved most in the world.  And although I didn’t know her soon-to-be husband in a very deep way, I was convinced that he would treat my sister right and even more convinced that he felt a deep, profound love for her.

Her wedding day that November was the happiest I had in years.  It’s still probably in my top five happiest almost five years later.  It didn’t matter that the guy I was dating at the time was a complete social reject or that my dress didn’t fit right or that my shoes were ill-advised.  I choked up when I saw her walk down the aisle, barely stopping myself from full-on crying.  I was teary-eyed throughout the ceremony, and really, had never experienced tears of joy before.  I actually thought that was a made-up phenomenon.

After the wedding, there was a whirling limo ride through the city, with all the bridesmaids and groomsmen and the happy couple drinking beer that was actually made by my brother-in-law and his friends, and made to taste like champagne!

The reception was lovely, I made a little speech (that went rather well, I was told), and we danced away the night.  I have never danced so much, ever, and don’t think I ever will again.  I actually danced so much that I could barely walk the next day (darn those inadvisable shoes!).  My sister and her husband were so clearly giddy and in love and happy.  My heart warms thinking of it even now.

A car stood waiting to whisk my sister and her husband off to their hotel for the night, as my then-boyfriend helped me maneuver my tipsy parents off to the cars we drove.  A wave goodbye, and they were gone, Mr. and Mrs.  The only time I have ever been happier is holding my new nephew.  More love and happiness brought to me by those two.

I love that my sister made me a part of that day, and that I have been able to see my nephew a few times since he was born.  He is (I think) coming up on three months old now, and my sister has to go back to work.  I probably won’t see him as often, but I plan on asking for some time off every now and again so I can go see my favorite little guy.  Love and  happiness reigns with my sister and that little baby, even through the crying and the tears and the up-all-nights.  There is so much love.  I couldn’t be happier.

Also perfect — the song that they DID choose for their wedding:

 

 

 

 

Music Lesson Learned

Forgive me, my friends, but my head is in a dark place.

I heard the song posted below for the first time when I had made up my mind that  I was going to sing in my parents’ friend’s band, The Lounge Lizards.  I was out of my damn mind.  This is what happens when a manic 20-something gets told she’s a great singer for some goofing off around the campfire.

Thank God I’m not that manic 20-something, but this song still speaks to me.  About how it feels like you’re always fucking it up, even when you know better.  About how luck isn’t on your side.  The video — going to a dirt race track with an abusive boyfriend, eating sushi from the grocery store as you watch the cars go by, knowing by the way he’s drinking beer just what is going to be in store for you in the evening.  Feeling like no one in the world understands and you may as well give up trying to make yourself understood.

Waiting on a Return Email

I have only one friend from college that I still occasionally email with, and let’s just say the emails are quite infrequent.  She sent me an email about a week ago, talking about getting a promotion at work and the new degree she is working on.  My friend is an over-achiever, if ever there was one, and has been known to throw herself onto many a project just because someone says it can’t be done.

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really sure how to react to the news that she received a lateral promotion and is going to get another masters, to add to the two she already has, and, oh, her Ph.D.  We were on the same track in college.  If I weren’t bipolar, I’d probably be doing exactly what she’s doing, but that’s only happening in another time-space continuum.

At the end of what I think was a very long rant about statistics and computer programming and data analysis (I think), she asked me if I was still working at the prison.  And how she imagined that would be “the hardest job in the world.”  Wow.

I thought I already had my “coming out of the bipolar closet” party with Jen.  Apparently not, or she has forgotten, which is possible because she is a severe binge drinker and doesn’t have the best memory (although she was able to stuff several degrees under her belt, so she must have some memory).  The post I wrote yesterday and added as a page on my site, “The Story and the Stigma,” stemmed from me responding to my friend’s email yesterday.

I took Jen through every step of what I’d been up to in the past two years (since apparently she hadn’t been listening) and told her that this all (working part time, being on SSDI, etc) was a long time coming.  I haven’t heard back from her, and I’m leaning towards the “you never will” because she’s sent me several other articles since, so I know she’s checked her email.

Typing all this out makes me think — I knew exactly what Jen has been up to for the past two years; why doesn’t she know a thing about what I’ve gone through?  I can’t figure out if she doesn’t remember or doesn’t want to remember or just lost track.  I suppose it’s altogether possible I never told her, but not likely.  In fact, I distinctly recall an email I sent to her right after I left inpatient hospitalization for the first time.

At this point, I only care a little about what Jen will say.  I’ve had to go over and over with so many different people why I’m in the position I am in, and so I’m kind of through with the drama of it all.  Jen will either reply back to the email, or she’ll just keep mass-mailing me articles that she thinks are interesting.

And I’m just going to keep telling myself that I don’t care until I’m blue in the face.  I’m going to keep being nonchalant about this and not freak out, because that would really indicate some mental health issues.  Sensitive?  Gah, me?  No!  Much anxiety in your life?  Lay in bed at night awake, wondering what all those people out there are  thinking of you and how they are probably judging you?

I think I’m going to need some direct therapy on this issue.  For now, I’m putting the possibility of a return email from Jen low on my priority list, and I’ll just have to keep shoving it back down there until it stays.

The Counting Crows, Long December  (We would listen to Counting Crows nonstop, singing all the words, back in the day.  This video takes me right back and I am stuck.)

Off-Key, Out of Tune

I have been sick now, in some form or another, since early September.  Now that I’ve been through staph, removal of huge pilonidal cyst, bronchitis twice, my doctor tells me this week that I have pneumonia.  Seriously?

All of this sickness is making me depressed.  It is throwing my world off-kilter and I can’t seem to get it to straighten out.  I am not interested in anything, feel like sleeping all of the time, and am not enjoying being around people.  I am annoyed and irritable.  I can’t see a way out.  My brain is telling me that all of these physical illnessess will never go away.

I thought blogging might help, but my heart isn’t in it.  I just came home from QoB’s and, while I almost always enjoy my time there, it wasn’t doing it for me.  Trying to keep up a conversation took such energy and I just didn’t have it.  I found myself being annoyed with myself that I couldn’t just be happy and enjoy her company.  So I left.

Now I’m at home.  I like being at home.  My dogs are here, I have nice places to sit and relax, it is comforting.  But sometimes I feel lonesome.  At the same time, however, I can’t stand the thought of being around anyone.  It all takes too much effort, and that seems to be effort that I don’t have right now.

Part of me thinks that I am talking myself into being depressed, that this is all my fault.  These feelings are not true and I am giving up and giving in.  Because that is what I do.  I have been trying to do things to ward off these feelings — meditating, sacred self, sitting in front of my sun lamp, staying in a routine.  But I feel like my whole heart isn’t in it.

I keep hearing this voice inside my head, “You’re depressed.  You’re letting yourself go down that road.  You are so lazy.  Why can’t you just be happy?”  That last one…”why can’t you just be happy…” bothers me the most.  I don’t understand why I can’t just be happy.  I am pretty sure that I was enjoying being happy before all of this illness came upon me.  Now everything feels wrong.

What happened to all of that energy, all of those good feelings?  Why didn’t I enjoy it more when I had it and what can I do to get it back?  When will I start feeling less sick all of the time?  Am I still sick or am I just depressed and my mind is telling me I’m sick?

I can’t find anything truly good to say.  I have cases at work that are stressing me out, and I feel like there isn’t anything I can do to make some of these situations better.  There is a lot of in-fighting in my office area and it is becoming just so very clear to me that my supervisor likes to stir the pot.  I am almost dreading going to work every day because I am being faced with these impossible cases and all of the tension and back-stabbing that is going on in my office area.  I just don’t know how to move forward, tell myself that I am doing all I can.  I really feel off my game.

At work, a lot of times I feel like I give and give and give and help and help and help and no one gives a shit.  I guess if, at this age, I am still expecting to be patted on the back and given an “atta girl” that I am out of my damn mind.  It used to be different, though.  At least I thought it did.

I want to be a good person, a better person.  I want to be happy and live my life free.  I want to have the energy that it takes to do these things.  I want to not have to take all of these pills and inhalers and pills and inhalers and pills and still feel sick.

I am annoying myself, so I must end.

When You’re Gone, The Cranberries