Thoughts for a Tuesday

It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to write or even had the time to write. I need to make the time I know. Today is a strange day. Today is the anniversary of the death of my Uncle John. A wonderful, funny, caring, family man who was taken way to early by a horrific disease. Today upon waking up I was struck by thoughts of my family, cousins/his children, and Aunt(his wife) and his siblings my Auntie and my Dad. I struggle with the right words to express my feelings this morning. Sadness yes, depressed (usually), but I am trying to remember the good stuff. I know I will get there.

Additionally I am exhausted. I’ve spent the last 8 months working 2 jobs, but the second job is in service of my future. I am apprenticing to become a cosmetologist. Simply stated I go to an actual salon 3-4 days a week instead of to school and I learn hands on. It takes longer than cos. school but it’s less expensive and I learn better by getting in and doing it. It’s been fun to find a creative outlet that expands my mind and could make me some money 🙂

My depression and anxiety is mostly under control, although the last few days have been rough, which is probably why I am pulled to write today. I really need to find my balance again, and I am afraid it will take some difficult decisions to get it. But I can kick that can down the road a little longer.

The next 8 weeks will be insane. Between birthdays, holidays and an upcoming wedding, I’ll be busier than normal. But we will get through.

Thanks for reading….

It’s been a rough couple days, weeks, years, whatever. I made a huge mistake and work and feel as though my credibility that I have spent 4 years building is now in the toilet. 3 years ago I wouldn’t have been able to emotionally handle this but I am doing it now, if not the most graciously. I am also working on keeping my trap shut, because I don’t always see eye to eye with the men I work with. I am the lone woman in a group of men, and I am an island. Soon though another woman will be joining our ranks, and I am not all that excited about it. Whatever, moving on.

My neck of the woods, Michigan has been hit twice in the last week with a lot of snow, but the good news is its almost over and soon the gray rains of March will wash away the snows. I didn’t lose any weight this week at our weigh in, but I didn’t gain so I am happy about that. I also get to eat 3 veggie heavy salads each week to help me out. Because the diet food and I aren’t great friends. Jacob’s lost another 7.5 lbs bringing his total lose to    70 lbs now, which is amazing and I couldn’t be more proud.

I guess there is a horrible stomach virus going around, and I am praying I don’t get it, unless its like Sunday night so my Monday weigh in is awesome 🙂 I feel scattered, as you can probably tell by the above rant. I feel off and not great and really want to go home and go to sleep, but I am thankful because its not a depression sleep, its an exhaustion sleep. Yay for the little things.

I had a  moral dilemma this week, on top of everything else. Maybe a moral dilemma isn’t the right phrase but its the best one I can come up with. I witnessed my bosses son doing something illegal, not like stabbing someone, but using tobacco as a minor. And my instinct was to tell my boss, but another part of me, the part that still wants to be a teenager or in my early twenties wanted to let it go and be “cool” about it. Because I did stupid stuff like that when I was 16, but I didn’t do it where adults could see it. See here’s the thing, I know that kids do this stuff, but knowing and KNOWING are 2 different things. I mean come on, he knew I was in the office working, and maybe its that he has so little respect for me or his Dad or his job that he just did it. But what I really think is, he’s a kid that thinks he is invincible. I know I used to think that. I wish I still thought that. But as we age (gulp) we realize that everything Mom and Dad said when we were younger is so TRUE. I wish I had this wisdom when i was there age, because then they might listen to me. But the won’t and don’t. Either way the punk got busted that night anyways so while I told my boss because it was my obligation, I still didn’t feel good about it. Maybe I will now that I have written this long a#* post.

I wonder if I am suppressing the stress that is usually tapping me on the shoulder. I have a lot to do, but I am approaching it with a lackadaisical attitude right now, and I think that is bothering me more than the stress usually does. I know I am moving slower and more deliberately since I made the ERROR here at work. It’s funny when you can see your Christmas bonus for this year already dwindling as the cost of fixing my mistake gets bigger. For now though I am going to drink some water to try to settle my stomach, take some deep cleansing breathes to calm my mind and nerves and hopefully finish the major projects that need finishing by Friday. Or maybe I will surf the web until my lunch is over, either way ta ta for now.

Its been awhile


I keep returning to this page hoping to be able to tell a different story. I wish I could say that the past few months have been good but that would be a lie. I continue to see a psychiatrist to monitor and adjust my meds, I see my therapist to help with tools and release, but I am not much better than I was. The cautious optimism I mentioned previously was warranted as my body quickly adjusted to the new meds and my lack of proper chemicals flipped the middle finger at my attempts and continued to pull at my heels trying to drag me back to the dark. I can honestly say I have no real short term memory right now so I feel completely disconnected from those I love. Not sure if this was a conscience choice or a situational response to the way I am feeling. I keep pushing forward, making plans and trying to keep them. We are going on our annual Memorial Day camping trip tonight and I am repeating the phrase “this will be fun” in my head trying to get in the right mind space.  I will try to smile and enjoy my time but I fear Sunday when my world snaps back into reality and I have to start dealing again.

I truly didn’t want to come back here and write about this. I was hoping to be able to come back and write funny posts about the great things that are happening in my life. Don’t get me wrong, nothing tragic is currently happening, and I think that is what is so frustrating about having chronic depression, you know that objectivly your life is good, food on the table, roof over your head, money in your pocket, supportive family and friends. It sounds so good, on paper and out loud, but my brain doesn’t precieve joy and contentment the way other peoples brains do. Its hard to know you have been betrayed by your body in more ways then one. It is not just aging that robs you of things, mental health, infertility, all of these things should be a given. I should be a “normal” woman, with the ability to have babies, to smile at wonderful things and to lay my head on my pillow at night and only worry about tomorrow, or whatever it is normal people worry about. My body has betrayed me, and I am trying to take care, to work with what I have but damn it I am tired.   I bet you are too my dear readers, tired of always reading the debby downer stuff I post.

I think my goal has been to offer support to others out there who are going through something similar. To hopefully have one person read this and know they can get help and be happier. I wish that for others and myself.

Maybe I will stick to some fictional posts for awhile, a little poetry or short story to break it up a little. Or maybe I will just avoid writing again for awhile.

We shall see.

Day to Day

I am hyper aware of myself right now. Over anazyling every emotion, reaction and change in mood. I have read this is common in people newly diagnosed with bipolar. So for a little relief from the bubble ready to burst inside I am going to ramble for a few minutes about these “issues”

As I said I am slightly anxious, a side effect of the changes in my medicine no doubt. I feel speedy one moment and wiped out the next.

Last night I couldn’t find a gift I had been given for Christmas. And as I was going to bed it suddenly became the most important thing in the world that I find it. I tore through the house, getting more frustrating, actually thinking someone was playing a trick on me. That maybe I had forgotten the gift somewhere and the giver was just waiting for me to ask for it. After chewing on that idea while I looked through drawers 2-3 times I actually had to stand up and tell myself that was silly. As I moved slower I found it, miraculously, where I had left it Christmas day when I came in from our travels. But of course I couldn’t let that relief stand because now I had to find my Kindle. I made myself go to bed, and counted in my head breathing deeply until that thought went away.

I am trying to remember that people don’t know what is happening in my head therefore it is not fair of me to expect them to react to me any differently than they have in the past. It is hard to remember that and be patient with them. I know I may fail at this on occasion.

I got my anti-psychotic drug last night ( finally) and was to afraid to take it. I will start this weekend when I can recover from it better. Which reminds me I have to go home and get it before I leave town for the weekend. Thank you blogging for reminding me.

I have been obsessing about something that is 6 months away. My grandparents will be celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary, and someone I really don’t like will be attending. I keep rocketing between images of my being graceful and ignoring the boiling rage I feel toward this person, calling him and blasting him and threatening him within an inch of his life that if he ruins this day for my Grandparents I will hurt him, or doing that to his face. It’s stressing me out slightly.

I cried like a baby last night watching television, it was whack.

I am cold ( that has nothing to do with anything)

I am hungry ( that is surprising since I have no appetite on these meds)

I am signing off now. Thanks for listening, I feel slightly better.

Me vs. The Hulk

Yesterday I had therapy, my first session since the “diagnose” and the conversation was mostly about my meeting with the psychiatrist. Basically no matter what the diagnoses, the treatment plan is approx. the same. So I am on the right treatment street, but maybe not the right diagnoses street, at least that’s what my therapist thinks. For now I am going to identify my disorder as Bipolar until such time as someone more qualified then me changes it. That being said, I have decided to track my “cycles” in a journal and see if I go through dips and peaks. I know I go through dips, but the peaks, not so sure.

We also talked about buttons, as in you are pushing my buttons. Something we talked about was identifying my buttons and learning how to extinguish the inflammatory thoughts before I go all Hulk on someone and cannot be reasoned with. Believe me this happens, especially to my sweet poor husband. But anyways…. so we started talking about buttons and it seems my biggest one is being misunderstood. This is actually kind of a broad button as it could mean many things. It could mean being disrespected, or it could be persecuted. But knowing that I am sensitive to this I am going to try to remember that I am Bruce Banner, mild mannered and brilliant 🙂 and that I need to stay calm in order to stay sane. People who have never seen me go crazy doubt my ability but believe me my past is littered with the bodies of my raging and rampaging. I hard core hold grudges and the mere memory of the things that have “wronged” me can set me off. (deep breath, in out) okay, calming down.

I wonder what other peoples buttons are and how many times a day I hit them. Or for that matter how many times a day I misunderstand someone else. In this world of digital communication it is easy to read into email and text, creating tone or attitude, and simply remembering that this are typed words is difficult since this form of communication is now the norm. Having a face to face conversation or a phone call or even writing a letter are fewer and farther between. You know I am right, since we now have baby boomers (aka my parents) texting me on the regular. I love it, but I digress.

So my challenge for any readers out there is this, when you find yourself getting ticked off or irritated in the coming days, take a breath and try to figure out why you are upset. Are you really being disrespected or hurt or could the person you are dealing with just be a jerk? Or maybe they are having a bad day? I think I am going to benefit from taking a beat before I turn into the big green monster, I surely know my husband will.

Survey says…..

Yesterday was the big day, and I will tell you I worked myself up pretty good about going to face the dreaded psychiatrist. It didn’t help that my neck of the woods is in the middle of a bitter cold snap and the appointment was about 40 minutes away and I had to drive on the highway in snowing, blowing BS to get there. But I did it. I got there, sat in the beautiful lobby and waited, and waited, because why wouldn’t he be running behind.

He came out, called my name and my knuckles had turned white from gripping my purse handle for 20 minutes. He led me to his warm office and I sat down just quaking. He asked a lot of questions, some things I would never have thought to ask and after about 45 minutes of that he told me that I am bipolar. Bipolar II to be precise, and that the voice in my head was not a concern because he thinks its a reflection of my inner life being poor and terrible.

Swallowing the words bipolar II was not as hard as I thought it would be, I now have a face with the name and can plan an attack. Reading up on this diagnoses was interesting, like reading a summary of my life. The sad part is that I didn’t know the symptoms, and the only reason most people with Bipolar are diagnosed is that they get so depressed something happens forcing them to seek help finally. Most people with this disorder can go years in this cycle of extreme highs and lows and not know that it is not normal. They push people away and never realize they are doing it. Its a viscous cycle that doesn’t end on its own.

But now I have a place to start and I hope that I can continue to chronicle it here. If you are struggling with depression, don’t wait to seek help, you really aren’t alone, there is a world of us out there that get it and get you.

And so it goes….

I have spent the last few weeks running around like mad, which is what people do around the holidays I guess. And part of what I have realized is that I have done this so I can silence the voice in my head. She goes away a little when I am so wrapped up in moving forward. But as I get closer to the holiday and as my checklist becomes complete she echos in my head.

What is this fear I have of letting her go? I know what some of it is, fear that she is my creative voice that I have nurtured for years. Fear that the person I will be without my self doubt and self abuse is not someone I would like to be around.

In truth I have been avoiding writing because I felt that if I acknowledged this fear it would make it more real. But that’s not true, what makes it real is that its my life, and I am not sure who I will end up being when this is over. It is scary and unknown and makes me hesitate.

Hopefully this is not my last post of the year, because I would like to think I won’t let this fear stop me from doing something that I love, but who knows, the only thing I know for sure right now is it is Friday and I have 4 hours left in my day.



It’s been about a week since I have posted. I can only say that I have been avoiding writing anything down for fear of disturbing the fragile peace I am wadding in. I can’t even say wadding in it, I have my toes in the edge of the surf of peace. In therapy yesterday I admitted that I wasn’t writing because I am afraid to not only disturb said peace, but that I won’t find the comfort and relief I normally feel after my fingers have finished flying over the keys. I now realize that sometimes you have to do things, even when you don’t want to in an effort to get back to normal. I have admitted out loud to the internet, to a select small group of people the true depth of my mental illness, and the appointment is scheduled with the psychiatrist to get additional help, but I can’t shake the feeling that I am not being real, honest or authentic because I am choosing not to tell everyone in my family. I can’t explain how maddening it is to struggle with myself on this. I thrive in an honest environment, but to be this honest, raw and open is just not something I can do yet, I fear more than the words I will speak.

Today is a even day, even Steven. I feel level, not up or down, just a steady hand. I am making myself do things, moves and counter moves, to make sure that I don’t fall off the edge of this and end up in the dark again. Like I went and got my hair cut last night, but it’s so short I have to get up in the morning, style it, and put on some makeup so I don’t look hideous. And wearing a sweatshirt instead of a blouse won’t work with this hair, so I am going to try to fashion show at night to find things that are comfortable and cool looking. Hanging it all up so I don’t have the excuse of nothings clean and grabbing my armor(hooded sweatshirt). I am leaving my makeup on the counter, so I don’t have to look for it in the morning. Little things, trying to keep the momentum.

I wonder how many people who read this blog feel like I do. I assume some do because I have followers, or maybe you just like the words I am writing down. Either way I appreciate you in ways I could never express. Good luck today. You are doing great, even when you don’t feel great.

Small Thanks

I wanted to write today about what I am thankful for, but in this moment, surrounded by squawking voices of people I work with I can’t seem to channel anything that I am thankful for. I mean if I meditated for a minute I could come up with some. Hold on…..hmm…. I am thankful there is only 4 hours left in my work day. I am thankful that I have therapy tonight so I can decompress. I am thankful that my 20 lbs turkey thawed out finally. I am thankful that it just got silent while I typed that last sentence. These are obviously surface thanks. There are deeper ones that I can’t get into now, just not in that mind set.

Last night I told my two best friends about the voice in my head. They took it okay, one in particular was worried that I was suicidal because I explained what the voice in my head sounds like. I spent a bit convincing her that I was not a threat to myself and that I had been living with this for awhile, I was just acknowledging it. So after that was said and done I regretted it, not because I am worried about their reactions but I forgot to mention to them I didn’t want it discussed so I am sure their significant others are now aware, or maybe not, but that paranoid voice in my head is sure trying to convince me that turkey talk tomorrow will be about the bitch that lives in my head. Again I am thankful for therapy tonight. I have a head ache right now, a rager that is making it hard to stare at my computer screen. But I wanted to purge my pent up writing before I am off for a long holiday weekend away from my computer and my digital following. Its a warm fuzzy to know that people can come here on any given day and maybe feel less alone in the world.

So I guess I am thankful for you, my readers, my interweb venting point that lets me be the truest me. Happy Thanksgiving, take deep breaths as we going into this holiday season and remember that you will get through it, just like I will.


I took a huge step yesterday and admitted to my therapist that there is something deeper wrong with me. I don’t want to be “crazy” and the idea that the symptoms I have been suppressing are those that are directly identified with that harsh word. But i said it out loud yesterday and my therapist is sending me to a psychiatrist for additional assistance. I am not completely comfortable saying this out loud yet but the fact is I am going to say it here, in an effort to be transparent and authentic. I have a voice in my head, that is destructive, damaging and scary. I have referred to her many times as “the crazy bitch that lives in my head” but I think I was purposely being vague that she is real to me. She is not my conscience, she is vicious and savage but only to me. She tells me things like, you are worthless, you shouldn’t even be alive, you are horrible, all the things that eat away at any self esteem you may have in your life. And the worse part is that as I am typing this I know that this sounds scary, and the people who know me that read this are going to be hurt that I haven’t shared this with them yet. Let me just say, that I told my husband this only last night. And he handled it better than I could have expected, or I guess better than I thought he would, he hugged me and was glad I am going to get more help. He said to me, I have heard you refer to the crazy bitch before, but I didn’t know she was “real” (I put the quotes there, he didn’t)

Needless to say, this whole situation is scary to me. Everything I am doing right now is uncharted territory for me and I am scared. More scared then I have been in a long time. But I am trying to cling to a shred of hope that I will fix this problem, and that I will start to really tackle the issues that are holding me down in the dark. I am afraid people won’t want me around, that they won’t want me near there kids or that if my co-workers found out I would be even more ostracized. I can’t even keep the tears in right now as I write this. So if you could put me in your thoughts, say a prayer if you are so inclinded, but stay tuned for the never ending saga.

Please take care of yourselves, I know you can do it.