Mental Health Care In Crisis Blog

Actor Crush of the Day: Liam Neeson (Still on my Jedi kick!)

Okay, I just stumbled on THIS blog. Click the title of this post to go there. (Too bad it seems he hasn't posted since March 2005; seems like he started it up, and then fell off with it; I hope he returns! I just checked; he has some other blogs which are current.)

Holy crap, I had no idea doctors received year-end bonuses from HMO's or the like for keeping costs down.

Conflict of interest, INDEED. When will doctors take back control of health care? I think it will take doctors and patients working together to influence legislation and other things, and a whole LOTTA work and patience and probably money, and maybe some well-conceived lawsuits that will bring to the forefront of the media's attention (hopefully?) various issues related to the whole MESS.

From his previous post, I quote the following:

In early October, the Illinois Supreme Court ruled that a patient could sue an HMO. "Where an HMO effectively controls a physician's exercise of medical judgment and that judgment is exercised negligently, the HMO cannot be allowed to claim that the physician is solely responsible for the harm that results," the court ruled.

I guess I quote him quoting the Illinois Supreme Court, lol. But Hurrah! It seems to me that for YEARS legislation and court decisions (which, in many cases, effectively legislate from the bench) have PROTECTED HMO's. I am heartened to see at least some things starting to go the other way, but we have to keep this up!

I quote from his blog again:

"HMO accountability is essential," because the organization is a for-profit venture, the court ruled. The court said that HMOs act as health-care providers and not just as insurers since their rules on coverage affect doctors' decisions.

EXACTLY. Yippeeee! In your eye, HMO's! Too bad this was just a state court, and not the federal Supreme Court over the whole nation. Still, I hope this is a good start to some much-needed change.

Maybe the HMO's will actually decide it will SAVE them money to actually ALLOW doctors to practice medicine. That just sounds so wrong, HMO's "allowing" doctors, or "disallowing" them to do or not do things? Who went to med school, peeps? Yeah, HMO's have medical people, doctors even, on board, but their salaries are dependent on the HMO doing well, which means restricting the physician's abilities to do their job. Seems like yet another conflict of interest . . . what about the Hippocratic Oath?

Hypocritic Oath? Lol. I'm sure THAT joke has been run into the ground. But it runs through MY mind, just the same.

And I quote again:

In a case that could change the face of HMOs, the U.S. Supreme Court has agreed
to determine whether an Illinois HMO breached a legal duty to a patient whose
appendix burst during an eight-day wait for a test to diagnose her abdominal
pain.

I'll be keeping a sharp eye on THAT one.

Apparently many of these he quotes are from the November/December, 1999 (vol. 8, no. 6) of The National Psychologist.

I'll be keeping up with his blog, too, as I obviously am very interested, and very impacted, by all this.

New Year's at the Zoo and Other Stuff

Actor Crush of the Day: Ben Affleck (Pearl Harbor, I just love a man in uniform)

I'm considering taking us up to the zoo on Monday. Hub will have the day off, as will Emily. I'm curious to see if the polar bears like it any better in the winter, than they do in the summer!

Of course, it'll be COLD! But what the hey. Hopefully this "milder" winter weather will hang in there. I love having this zoo pass, knowing we can go whenever circumstance has the Ems and the Hub off at the same time. Thanks again, YOU!

We can always take refuge in the reptile house. Whee!

I had a really, really good ologist session today. Too bad I didn't have a tape. I highly recommend him to anyone, even if you aren't ill like me, say just for working through some difficult event in your life, getting over it and such. He is a GREAT pyschologist. Very soothing, laid back, mild, calming, accepting, understanding, and patient. And very capable.

On a different note, I've lent from the library a movie called "My Neighbor Totoro", which is an anime (but not Yu-Gi-Oh-like, or that, it isn't over-exaggerated like that) by the master of the art in Japan, Miyazaki. Miyakawa? Miyazakawi? Crap! I can't remember his name right.

The story has alot of heart, and I love seeing it set in the Japanese countryside, with the rice paddies and the differences from their culture to ours. And stuff.

I was pleased with it, except for a scene where the girls are bathing with their father. I guess that may be normal over there, but it is not, here. So I'll fast-forward through that for Emily.

I look forward to checking out some more, although the few the library system here has were all checked out, except this one.

Gorgeous animation (well, I thought the dad's hair was too floofy/anime-ish, and perhaps the girls's eyes were also, and the neighbor boy, EESH. Especially his cartoonish hair or lack thereof. Yeah, I know it's animation, but still.

I loved how this movie showed the wonder and fun of being a child, and exploring, and such.

I'll finish up my never-posted Thanksgiving post, and write up Christmas, sometime soon. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Back to go rest. I'm high as a kite and beaten down pessimistic at the same time. MIXED state, UGHHHh.

Bye!

Hey! Where's My Shoelaces?

Actor Crush of the Day: Ewan McGregor & Liam Neeson (I just love British Jedi!)

An analogy that has been useful for me lately, is one involving everyone being issued with a pair of "shoes" as they are sent down to Earth, to live, from heaven. Not everyone gets shoes that fit as well as others; not everyone gets the color or style they'd like; not everyone gets a shoe suited to the functions that are needed.

And, not everyone receives shoelaces.

I posit that, with my mental illnesses, I was issued shoes, but no shoelaces. I have repeatedly stumbled and fallen, my whole life through. I didn't even know what I was missing, although the inevitability of falling, and the repetitive nature of it, seemed to indicate that I was missing SOMETHING, as I grew older and wondered. No matter how hard I tried, one shoe, or both, in the most difficult times, would fly off and I'd fall on my face, with varying degrees of trauma depending on the situation.

And sometimes, it would be quite awhile before I even could, or would, get up again.

Sometimes, I'd just crawl.

Sometimes, I'd just lay there and sob.

I've hated those shoes, and hated the "unfairness" of it. Why do others get to race on past me, while I must repeatedly eat dirt, over and over again? And be expected to WANT to get up, even though I am running with faulty shoes; with some essential component missing, which I couldn't compensate for even if I knew what I was missing?

But, a year ago, I learned after many, many, many years, that I may be bipolar. And have a variety of anxiety disorders. As the year wore on, the rapid cycling nature of the bipolar became defined, and the possibility of OCD became painfully clear as I began to discuss things with the psychologist that I always thought were "just ME". For my whole life, I thought all this stuff, all this inability to "fit" with coping, being capable, in society, in the world, among people, and even alone, was a fundamental and serious flaw with my ME-NESS, my ME-hood. I thought I, MYSELF was the flaw; that I, MYSELF, was the "thing" that was not suited for this world, for interacting with people, for BEING. I had no framework for even conceptualizing that it could be something other than maybe some depression (which is serious, by itself, but . . .)

So. This year, I have learned that there is such a thing as shoelaces . . . . this September, after beginning the Neurontin (mood stabilizer), I believe that I have been able to grab ahold of these laces. Through therapy, I will learn what they are for (well, everyone knows what shoelaces are for, but in the analogy, I never even knew what was missing; I have to learn what they are for, analogically speaking). As time, therapy, medication, and my whole treatment continues, with hard work on my part, I will slowly start to thread these laces into my shoes.

I have already begun to try to walk and run, still, and I stumble, still. Even with perfectly laced shoes, everyone stumbles. Still, as I begin to see some faint, faint but powerful glimmers of possibility and hope, I can't help but test what I learn, even if I am not yet ready. And so, I still fall.

BUT, though I am scraped, bloodied, and bruised, I am, ever so slowly, learning. Ever so slowly, bit by bit. Some days, weeks, months, better than others, and sometimes just holding ground itself is progress of a sort, and sometimes I have bad times. But I am learning, now, that there ARE laces, that there is a use for them, what that use is, and that I have been missing SO MUCH. And that I can learn, and be, and BECOME.

Eventually, my shoes will be all laced up, and I will haltingly, and/or recklessly, test my step, and then my stride. People who learn to re-use their muscles after serious injury or prolonged convalescence, must re-learn in a similar way to what I am trying to describe, here. There may be some collapse of nerve, or strength, or collapse under duress and pain. I will, after regaining strength, get up again and proceed to test, discover, and learn how a laced-up pair of shoes will increase my capabilities and self-hood.

There will be mistakes, stumbles, hurt, and frustration. But I will learn to walk. I will learn to skip, jump, and hop.

I will RUN.

Bipolar Information

This matches with information I see at many medical sites, but I believe this to be a very informative and less technical description than some sites. Click Post title to go to the source of this information.

Bipolar Disease - Symptoms and Diagnosis

A person suffering from bipolar disorder (also called manic depression) experiences extreme moods that alternate between a high or "manic" phase and a low or "depressive" phase.

People with mild cases are often undiagnosed until their disorder progresses to more severe or life threatening symptoms (e.g. suicidal depression, or manic delusions).

Signs and Symptoms

In order for a person suffering from bipolar disease to receive proper diagnosis and treatment, the various mood states must be recognized.

Signs and symptoms of MANIA can include:

1) Denial - A manic high usually feels good and for this reason those in a manic or hypo-manic state will almost always deny that anything is wrong with them. They simply feel too good to believe anything is wrong.


2) Mild Mania (Hypomania)

Inflated self-esteem
Increased sexual drive
Reduced need for sleep
"High" feelings (bordering on euphoria)
Provocative or mildly aggressive behavior
Increased energy, activity, and talkativeness


3) Mania

Increased drive, energy and restlessness (sometimes accompanied by delusions and/or paranoia)
Abuse of drugs (particularly alcohol, cocaine, and sleeping medications)
Uncharacteristically poor judgment and impulsiveness
Extreme irritability, distractibility and impatience
Excessively 'high' or euphoric feelings (unusually happy and/or optimistic)
Sexual drive that may lead to promiscuity
Talking rapidly, more loudly (person may hog the conversation)
Intrusive, or aggressive behavior
Inflated self confidence (all-knowing, may be arrogant)
Overly-inflated self-esteem
Dangerous risk-taking
Inability to sleep (sometimes for days)
Obsessive thoughts
Racing thoughts
Hallucinations
Life of the party


Signs and symptoms of DEPRESSION can include:

1) Depression

Anxiety
Poor memory
Self condemnation
Inability to function
Inability to concentrate
Physical health problems
Restlessness or irritability
Sleep problems (sleeps too much or too little)
Feeling worthless, or helpless
Disorganized (procrastinates more than usual)
Extreme emotional pain (cries easily, feels totally alone)
Sense of failure and extreme guilt
Difficulties sleeping, or oversleeping
Feelings of hopelessness or pessimism
Paranoia and pessimism about everything
Persistent sadness (feeling emotionally empty or dead inside)
Withdrawal from friends and social contacts
Changes in appetite and weight
Extremely fatigued (no energy, feels "washed out" or extremely tired)
Repeated thoughts of death or suicide; suicide attempts
Difficulty concentrating (hard to think straight, remember, and/or make decisions)
Lack of motivation (loss of interest or pleasure in previously enjoyable activities)


2) Psychosis

While psychosis is more common during the manic phase of bipolar disease, it may also be present during severe depression. Psychotic symptoms include:

Delusions (false and illogical beliefs--e.g., believing you have super human powers)
Paranoia (irrational belief that one's life is in jeopardy--e.g., the Mafia is out to kill you)
Hallucinations (hearing, seeing, or sensing things that aren't real--e.g., Seeing and talking to people who aren't there)


3) Mixed State

Symptoms of "both" mania and depression may be present at the same time: a depressed mood accompanied by manic energy. This is known as a "mixed state".

The symptoms of a bipolar mixed state may include:

Paranoia
Agitation
Psychosis
Suicidal thinking
Difficulty sleeping
Significant change in appetite

The symptoms of any bipolar episode (mania, depression, or mixed state) are usually limited to distinct, time-limited periods of illness. These episodes are separated by periods when the person has few or no symptoms.

Episodes vary from person to person. They generally occur in cycles, some lasting as long as a year, (rarely episodes have been known to last years), some may last only minutes. Over time, episodes have been known to become more and more frequent. Whenever a person experiences four or more episodes within a 12-month period, that person is said to have "rapid cycling" manic-depressive illness (bipolar disorder).

Most people with bipolar disease will experience approximately 8-10 episodes over their entire lifetime. However, it should be noted that many patients experience a great deal more. Those with rapid-cycling bipolar disorder, often experience a lifetime's worth of episodes during the course of a single month or week.

I had a GREAT iatrist session today!

Actor Crush of the Day: More Matthew Fox

I brought up some issues with him. And it went well. He was, as usual, his VERY direct self. But he apologized, at least, in his own way, for what I felt was ridicule and belittling of my relating to him during our last phone conversation in early November, some side effects I was experiencing. Doctors are people too, and they have bad days, and get irritable, just like anyone else. That is kind of what I figured had happened, lately, although I was hurt for a long time by it.

I thought it was very . . . good of him to admit that he got that way. So I have newfound respect for him; he isn't quite as arrogant as I had thought, if he could discuss the things with me that we discussed today.

So. I'm still here and kickin'. I kind of mentally girded myself up, and put on my mental boxing gloves for today's appointment, and am glad that it went well.

YIPPPEEEEEEE. One less thing to worry about.

Now, back to my regularly scheduled melancholy. Same bat time, same batty channel.

Well DUH, Mommy!

Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox

Yesterday in church, I was reminding and insisting that Emily fold her arms. Later in the meeting, when I had to remind her yet again, she insisted, "I AM!". And I said, "No you're not!". She again insisted, "I am . . . . . behind my back!"

I had to smother a chuckle and look stern as I more specifically requested that she do so in front of her back.

I had a bit of a giggle about it. She's a little wiseacre!

How Fighting Satan is Like Putting On A Pair of Control-Top Pantyhose

Actor Crush of the Day: John Schneider

Well, they're both difficult sons of @#&*(%^. If you're a man, you'll just have to trust me on this.

Let's see. You start off, all determined to resist temptation, and defeat the adversary in fell swoop. You start off with the toes, and easily slide the deceptive pantyhose over your heels, thinking, "This isn't so bad, nothing to it!".

You then start to have some difficulty, but with prayer and effort, you make a bit of progress. And resist the temptations of sin.

Woops! Looks like we spoke too early; got a little run there, in our pantyhose. No problem; whip out the handy dandy clear nailpolish, and you're good to go. You may have stumbled; but you repent, and set your grip again for the fight ahead.

You find that you've lost a bit of ground, and have to start from the ankles again. Kinda frustrating, but that's how it goes. You slowly inch the hose upwards, gritting your teeth and mumbling fake curses under your breath, as all your muscles, spiritual or otherwise, are called into play.

Your arms are trembling now from the strain, as the terrible struggle threatens to yank those pantyhose right out of your grip and send you head over heels to the floor. You grunt with the effort of just holding your ground, let alone making any progress, and despair of winning the battle.

Suddenly, you have assistance. Your prayers have been answered; your husband hears the funny sounds issuing forth from the dressing area and hearkens to your call for aid.

You brace yourself against any handy semi-sturdy piece of furniture at hand, those things from lessons past in Church, and knowledge from the scriptures that you have gained over the years. Your husband braces himself and pulls where you tell him to; your lungs heaving mightily with the effort, trembling with sheer exhaustion from the strain of the battle, you, together, begin to make progress once more.

The home stretch is in sight, but this proves the hardest battleground of all. You and your spouse no longer speak, as you are locked in battle with the terrible pullings of the adversary, and all his efforts to knock you off balance and lower your spirituality. Or pantyhose, as the case may be. Er, that sounds bad . . . lol!

Anyway, together, you wrestle with sin and temptation; locked in battle, sweat dripping from your brow, your spouse working in unison with you to overcome the strength of the world. As you both begin to feel as though the struggle will never end; that the pantyhose will just never succumb to the combined efforts and coordination of you and your spouse, suddenly, the battle is over.

Oh happy day! The sweet, sweet release of eternal rest. The ceasing of struggle and strife; the glory of knowing that soon, you will be at church to worship your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ; the peace of just BEING, is felt within your souls, and the joy of overcoming temptation and sin, and the humility you feel at the assistance you received from on high; your prayers were answered, forgiveness was given, and assistance was provided in the struggles just overcome.

Amen to that, and just so you know, I am NEVER going to attempt control-top pantyhose again. I have learned my lesson . . . . teehee! Yes, this allegory is based on an actual event****; I also believe the Lord has a sense of humor, and won't be offended at my relation of my hosiery struggles, with the struggle with sin and temptation. Hee!

****Names were changed in the above allegory to protect the innocent; also, my lawyers insist that I declare that there is nothing sinful about pantyhose, in and of themselves. But on the other hand, whatever MAN invented them, especially the control-top version . . . well, may the Lord have mercy on his soul . . . wait, my lawyers inform me that placing my hands around someone's throat and squeezing, is not a good idea . . . . hee hee hee! Just kidding y'all.

The Man And The Birds

Actor Crush of the Day: Gregory Peck

Here is a Christmas story that I read about 10-12 years ago, that really moved me inside. It just . . . . speaks to me; it fills my soul with peace and love. That may sound corny, but I like corn. It is just . . . . a spiritually profound, meaningful joyous moment of revelation, at the end of the story. I cannot help but read this story over and over (no, not in an OCD-repetitive way, lol!), for the pure beauty and depth of feeling that fills my soul. I have seen no author attributed to this story, so I feel I can post it here.

The Man and the Birds

Now the man to whom I'm going to introduce you was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn't believe all that incarnation stuff which the churches proclaim at Christmas Time. It just didn't make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn't swallow the Jesus Story, about God coming to Earth as a man. "I'm truly sorry to distress you," he told his wife, "but I'm not going with you to church this Christmas Eve." He said he'd feel like a hypocrite. That he'd much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. And so he stayed and they went to the midnight service.

Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier and then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another, and then another. Sort of a thump or a thud. At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They'd been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window.

Well, he couldn't let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it. Quickly he put on a coat, galoshes, tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the yellow-lighted wide open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow.

He tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn. And then, he realized, that they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me. That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them.

But how? Because any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him. "If only I could be a bird," he thought to himself, "and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to safety ... to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, and hear and understand."

At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells - Adeste Fidelis - listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. And he sank to his knees in the snow.

-- Author Unknown --

They keep cutting funding for mental health . . . .

Actor Crush of the Day: Pierce Brosnan

Click post title for mental health policy news.

I am SO sick of this! Yeah, I understand the need to balance the budget. But cut, after cut, after cut.

You know, most people assume that a financially needy mentally ill person, can utilize local, state, and national programs to help them get treatment.

Well, I'm a year and a half into my Social Security Disability claim.

Medicaid funding, especially the mental health portions, keep getting cut.

I remember, in 1996, accessing some mental health care at the local Davis Mental Health clinic near Lakeview Hospital in Bountiful, Utah. They had a sliding fee scale, and depending on income, your payment could get lower and lower. Davis being the county in Utah I lived in at the time.

Two years ago, when seeking treatment and resources, I called for an over-the-phone assessment from a psychologist at this clinic, which I received, but he let me know, that unless my payment/funding for services came from certain sources, they would not be able to treat me. I was confused . . . . he wouldn't, or couldn't, put it in any more specific terms than that.

I took that to mean Medicaid and/or Medicare, or something. And/Or health insurance, but maybe not even that.

So this sort of public mental health care, where you can pay say a sliding fee or something, doesn't exist any more; at least, not HERE. And, I daresay, not a many more other places, either. As funding as been cut in drastic amounts in the last decade.

There is going to be, there IS, a mental health care crisis. Yes, there's a crisis in all areas of health care, but people seem to forget this aspect. It's as though the public, blissfully unaware, just doesn't know that there is becoming no hope, for the mentally ill. Congress, seems to maybe in their minds think there'll be some other way people like me can get treated? Or somehow be fine without it? Don't they realize, that the costs to society will most likely be LESS, to help us, than for many like me to end up in emergency rooms around the country, where bills will most likely end up going uncollected because the people just HAVE NO MONEY to pay, and that raises costs elsewhere, of course; that the costs to society of having so many people limited or not able to function capably out among society, out among the workforce, will add up to more in the long run.

Most people, I'm guessing, probably see this as a distant issue; unless they themselves know someone with a mental illness, they don't really seem to feel much cause for concern. Or such would be my perception, of those in the general populace who even know about these funding cuts.

The sad thing is, most probably don't. Much of it seems to be happening under the radar.

I said general populace, and they, us, them, whatever, but you know what? I'm general populace too. I am they, them, us, you. Your sister, brother, uncle, cousin, niece. Your friend down the block, or your co-worker two cubicles down. Robin Williams, Jane Pauley. Not that the latter two need assistance.

I want to learn more about this issue, and about advocating for stopping the cuts, or mitigating their impact, or changing the cuts to less harmful/less drastic measures. And, where needed, advocate for increased funding and awareness.

I encourage everyone to inform themselves. As well, I will post on this blog from time to time regarding what I learn. I will also actively write to my Congressmen and Senators, as soon as I know what to say. Please, everyone, think about this issue and write to your Congressmen and Senators as well, if you will. You can pretty much email most or all of them, online.

Heck, if someone like me can get a phone call back from Congressman Rob Bishop, regarding an email I sent his office, than anyone can be heard. I have a funny story about that phone call, which I'll relate sometime soon.

A Bit Manic, Today

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Jackman.

Which has allowed me to actually do some useful things.

Still, I am aware of the pitfalls, which are many. I'm trying not to feel guilty, though, for enjoying the bubbling enthusiasm I feel.

At the moment, I feel like I could climb any mountain set in my path. Except maybe the one of being "over" this illness. That just doesn't happen, but we are working towards a degree of mental health that will hopefully be beyond just being somewhat functional.

This Arctic Cold that has settled in Utah is just . . . . freezing my soul, it feels like! It feels as though it is freeze-drying my heart down to Grinch-ey proportions.

It's not easy being Green.

Tee Hee!

Dag-Nabbit! Now that Whoville song is in my head, and I'll be OCD-repeating it all night. Which is worse than the usual something-gets-stuck-in-your-head, thing.

Da-voo door-ay, Da-voo door-ay, welcome, welcome Christmas Day . . . . . .

EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Well, the giddy silliness that often rides along with the mania is in full force, as you can see.

A bit of green fur, to ward off the cold, would be welcome about now.

Shiver my timbers, I'm cold!!!!!

Time to stuff the towel under the front door. That draft is killer.

As you can see, my thoughts are leaping around from thing to thing, in a disjointed manner. That is part and parcel, as well.

Parcel! That makes me wish for a load O'Christmas presents in the mail. Even though there'd be no reason to think there'd be any! Man, my mania is just running away with me.

I feel, and hope, that my kind of "free-associating" typing whatever is coming to me, right now, kind of shows you a little bit of how the mania feels and jerks me around.

Now I have an image of being tethered to the end of a rope, and being swung around in a wide circle on the ice, sliding around and around. Wheeee!

Mebbe I'd better stop, before I embarass myself further.

I wonder if the Grinch is the Hulk's unwanted love child? (My brain used the "bastard" word . . . just so's you know how my brain works, in this state. Utah. Lol.)

Small Miracles

Actor Crush of the Day: Liam Neeson (He sounds good as a Lion, doesn't he?

Thank goodness for small miracles. Like dissassembled cardboard boxes.

I am picturing the ? above each of your heads right now. Lol.

Okay, so you all know I panic easily.

Well, I was in the kitchen, doing some things, when I knocked a plate off the dishwasher and it shattered all over the floor! I was in my barefeet, and the broom was at the other end of the kitchen. And I was too far from the living room to reach it.

I was cornered!

At first I thought, well, there's got to be some way out of this. But then, I realized, the only way I could see was to walk out through the multitude of shards and slivers of white-and-ivy Corningware glass strewn about the floor.

That idea did not appeal to me.

Panic rising, I cast about for some other solution. There was no way I could reach the broom, to sweep myself a path.

I was about to start treading through the floor of glass, when my eyes laid to rest upon a flattened box partially slid behind the tall baker's rack-style microwave "cart" (not really a cart, but what else do you call it?)

Salvation! I leaned way over, because I was at about the limit of my reach from it, and plucked my saving grace from its ignomious resting place. I unfurled the cardboard "miracle" in front of me like a red carpet rolling forth in front of the highest of society; I cautiously placed my feet upon the path, and was able to thus reach the broom.

I still could not reach the living room, but I now proceeded to sweep every part of the kitchen except that beneath my path; I could JUST reach the farthest corners! I swept everything over into a pile beside the garbage, and then gingerly began to fold up a section of the path at a time, sweeping each space clear before proceeding to the next.

I finally folded up the box and set it aside, grateful for the miracle it had been. Silly though that may sound, how would YOU have gotten out of a glass-strewn kitchen, barefoot, with no tables or counters or anything to crawl upon to save your feet from diaster?

My "Peanuts" Childhood

Actor Crush of the Day: Snoopy. Cause it was a dark and stormy night . . . .
I was reflecting on the very little to none I remember of my childhood under the age of 7 or 8 or so. And you know what I realized? The adults only existed from the lower chest down. They were incomprehensible, and really were only background noise in the remembrances in my head. To the point where they are practically non-existant. I don't remember how my parents looked, at all. I don't remember ever SEEING their faces, although of course I must have.

I actually only remember, from the house in California, the wood in the hallway, the screen in my room I'd push out to go play in the backyard when I'd been sent to my room, and the swinging glass-paned kitchen door that was removed after one day when I chased my little brother around and around, each time entering the kitchen through this door with a stiff arm to a glass pane. On one go-round, a pane gave way and I looked down with 3 year old curiosity (and I'm sure horror, but by now it's all a silent movie in my head, and not a very clear one at that), at the piece of meat/me lying on the ground, and the GAPING hole in my wrist. I believe I screamed. Anyway, even in this my mother is just a lap in my memory. No face or anything.

Anyhoo, I realized, HEY, this is just like PEANUTS! Where all the adults speak some incomprehensible honking gibberish, and are really just background, when they are there at all, for the lives of the kids, anyway. So I thought it was funny that my childhood plays out like a Peanuts video. The few bits and pieces I can remember, anyway. Er . . . . that sounds kinda gross, considering I left off about seeing a bit and piece of ME on the floor. Lol!

Today's Therapy - If I was an Orange, I'd be Orange Juice about now.

Actor Crush of the Day:Tom Welling

Today's appointment got off to an awkward start . . . . Lots of "ums", and silence. I finally spit it out, though. After a bit of interchange, and some more silence, and starting to freak out in a panic attack, then came the Question. If anyone outside the office had heard it, you wouldn't even think it that odd or deep, even for two friends discussing the subject. But in the context of therapy, and the relationship between him and I (nothing inappropriate, just the unique depth of interaction that is inherent in the therapeutic relationship), and the absolute horror I felt inside at this question, something New in my psychological experience occurred.

I felt a tightening, in my chest. As though a purse-string was being tightened up. And I shifted around a bit, and breathed, although I couldn't expand my lungs fully due to the tightening. It rapidly progressed to a hard squeezing. Everything was squeezing so hard inside my upper torso; it was getting tighter, and more and more difficult to breathe. The squeezing restricted, further and further, my ability to draw a breath. I expressed my difficulties to the ologist; he could see I was enduring something, and I, in short bursts as I was rather . . . in distress by this time, let him know what was going on. It became extremely uncomfortable, in a painful way, but the pain is difficult to describe. And of course further panic at not feeling able to breathe didn't help any, either . . . . I shifted my lower body forward on the couch, and sunk my upper body lower down into the couch, and tilted my head back, in an effort to mitigate the restriction on my lungs. And of course there was alot of grimacing and a few gutteral noises of effort in relation to the squeezing and breathing difficulties. All this happening within the space of, say, 30 seconds or so, from the first tightening.

My ologist then said, in about the most safe, nurturing, confident voice that one could imagine, "Let's get you back to a safe place." He talked, for a minute or two, with me answering a few short answers here and there, and fought the squeezing, in my mind. Really, really hard. I finally came to a place where the squeezing all of a sudden quickly eased over about 10 seconds, and I was in that safer place; he had helped me get there; he had not abandoned me to the scary "attack" of whatever was going on; he calmly, confidently, caringly, knowledgeably, and skillfully applied himself towards helping me get out of the very real physical distress I was in.

The rest of the appointment went well. I was scared at what I had experienced; that had never happened to me before. But afterwords, there also was a reassurance inside that scary as I thought therapy would be, that I now know he won't abandon me to the scary stuff. That he will HELP ME THROUGH IT. That is such a NEW concept for me, it's hard to even wrap my mind around it. I will NOT be alone in experiencing the difficulties. True, he was not not having the difficulty himself, but he was RIGHT THERE with me, in the trenches. As much as anyone outside my head COULD be. That is very comforting, and I felt very taken care of, and comforted, afterwards. Actually, that feeling of comfort and care, is what helped the squeezing go away.

I had never thought to feel such a physically intense reaction to psychological stuff. Or at least that kind of feeling.

In one way, it scares me because I feel like now I'm just at the beginning of starting into stuff like went on today, and who the heck knows what other kind of strange, scary, painful, and even debilitating physical and emotional reactions, ie, monsters, could rear their ugly heads . . . . . In another way, though, my confidence and trust in him is so much deeper, for the experience we went through today.

Today's Ologist appointment was good!

Actor Crush of the Day: Tom Hanks (He's just so comforting!)

We worked on the issue of "You can't hate yourself into health", among other things. Accepting myself. Sounds simple, doesn't it?

NOoooooooooooooooooooo, it's not. Accepting oneself, with all the flaws, inconsistencies, even irresponsible behavior, the almost always backing out of alot of things, my problems following through, my fears and avoidance behaviors, neediness, just so many things. How does one accept the pitiful creature that you think you are? And yes, I know I'm not pitiful. At least, part of me does anyway. Part of me thinks I am . . .

Talked about pushing back and lashing out against feeling like other people have these huge expectations of me. Not only expectations, but like "orders" of things they want me to do. And feeling controlled.

And feeling like, I am not acceptable if I am not on meds, to people. There are SO many issues surrounding meds. There can be SEVERELY CRIPPLING side effects. I'd rather live with the bipolar, than tardive dyskenesia, among other things. Not that I'm showing signs of that, but it's just one of the many issues.

I DO appreciate the concern for my well-being that is expressed when loved ones are concerned about whether I'm on meds or not, but . . . . feeling like they "suffer" me when I'm not on meds . . . . I'm just not sure what to do with that. I appreciated the honesty behind that, and do not regret who told me that, telling me that. I feel an implicit rejection in that statement, but I need to figure out my feelings on the issue.

It's a big issue, and NOT personally related to any one person. It's something I've thought about for the last year, ever since I heard that I might be bipolar. I wondered so much about how accepted and loved I was and would be, both on, and off meds. It is something I've pondered, and need to do some more figuring on.

I was able to bring it up briefly at the end of the session, but I suppose I'll discuss it further with him next week.

Chemical Soup & Chocolate Milk (Doesn't that sound yummy?)

Actor Crush of the Day: Christopher Lee (in his younger days, but he doesn't have to be TOO young; I've been watching Airport '77)

I've been having a rough time and I appreciate all the kindness I have received. Thank you, it really helps ALOT. The littlest things can really mean so much, because someone took the time to THINK of them, and do them, instead of assume it wouldn't mean much, or assume that I'm already getting plenty of those kind gestures.

I've gone from feeling melancholically morose, to being full of anger and wanting to push back, at anything and everything. Very edgy, agitated, and irritable. I had been wondering if a manic phase was coming on . . . and this may be it. Not the anger itself, of course, that is related to so many things, but just everything with how I'm feeling right now, it feels manic in the agitated instead of euphoric way. UGH. Or maybe even mixed, which is WORSE. Ah, well.

I just keep stirring the chemical soup pot in my mind, and holding my nose with a clothespin until it starts to smell better.

Now THERE's a vivid analogy for you. Lol!! Wonder what the ologist will say of it. He'll probably grin!

On another note, I actually cooked for the 2nd time in two weeks; these are the first time's I've cooked in months. So that's a positive sign. An egg noodle-broccoli-mushroom (canned) garlic-and thyme thing, it's a side dish but we eat it as a main. And it's easy.

On a comPLETEly unrelated subject, does anyone else like their chocolate milk really weak, like I do? I like it about half white/half choc milk, if it's choc milk from a jug. I mix them. Or even 60/40, with the 60 being white. Enough to taste that there's chocolate, or some days a strong HINT of chocolate, without it being too sweet/thick like the full strength can be sometimes.

Everything sucks.

Ditto. Oh yeah, and I do too.

I had a REALLY good ologist session today.

Actor Crush of the Day: All of the previous. They're all MINE. So THERE! (Teehee!)

Not feeling up to saying much more than that, but at least it's something. The title, not the actors (but wouldn't they be, though?)

Anyhoo, Back At The Ranch . . . .

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Laurie (I just discovered he's Mr. Palmer in Sense & Sensibility . . . . even MORE reason to love that movie!)

Anyone else use the word "Anyhoo"? Or admit to it, anyway? I really relaxed today in therapy and kicked back, and just had fun. I even told some psych jokes. And he hadn't heard them before. He thought the one about Santa needing to believe in himself, instead of depending on others believing in him, was the funniest!

So, anyhoo, raise your hand if you say Anyhoo.

So I used that word for the first time in therapy. It's amazing how much we censor out fun and quirky aspects of our personality when we feel like we are under other people's microscopes. The world looks rather harshly on silliness and unfettered exuberance. But that's ME.

I'm going to learn to not give a spit if the world, or its inhabitants that put me under a microscope, think this stuff is stupid. Think I am stupid. What do they know, anyway? I can learn to be ME, and being me is just DANDY thank you very much.

I hate when people get on their high horses and just look down their noses at you, all superior-like. That microscope thing is mostly about making you feel inferior to them. But I'm going to learn to not buy into that. I can be whoever I want, microscopes be damned.

Picture me, as a little amoeba, shaking my "fist" at the big bad nerd looking down through the microscope. Not gonna do it, anymore. We are all the same size. In other words, we are all the SAME, worth-wise. We are all sons and daughters of Heavenly Father, and that MEANS that no ONE person of us is any BETTER than any other. Anyone who thinks they are better than you, is forgetting that principle, if they ever knew it in the first place. Which some didn't, but even if they aren't religious, there's other analogies for everyone being equal.

So. I Rock! And I ain't gonna be held down by the Man, or the Woman, ANYMORE! At least, I'm gonna work on it anyway. WOOOOO! Yay for me. Teehee!

GREAT therapy session today! Need ride to charter school meeting.

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Grant

Hi all! I had a GRRrreeeeAAAAtttt sesssion today with Dr. Mower at his Salt Lake office.

Thank you SO much for your kind comments. I am sorry that I have not been up to commenting back; my ability to follow up on things isn't great at times, and now is one of those times.

Plus, the longer I'm on this upped dose of Neurontin, the worse I'm getting. I am not able to think very well, or react like I should, or as fast as I should. I'm not able to even contemplate more than one simple thing at once, I am very woozy, dizzy, light & heavy-headed at the same time, my eyes and head are so fatigued it's all I can do to keep my eyes open at times.

My head feels like a cannonball. And somebody's taking a hammer to it . . .

I sympathize with anyone having medication side effects. Our bodies are all different, as are our doses, but it's all important to each of us, how we experience the effects &/or misery of modern medical chemistry. ARGH.

I'm having a Neurontin Neuroses. Well, can't really even think what neuroses means, and I'm probably not having one. I just liked the alliteration, there.

I am SO HAPPY. I had a really TERRRRIIIFFFICCC therapy session today! I LOVE it! He is such a GREAT psychologist. Yipppeeee!

Such a mixed state I'm in cause, well, there's some other things going on right now that I won't mention right now, but perhaps later. I'm having a hard time thinking.

I feel like everything is molasses, and I'm having to wade through it. My mental processes just seem stuck in molasses. Hrm, makes me wanna make molasses cookies, or gingerbread cookies . . . . YUM. But so weighted down and floaty at the same time. I feel kinda . . . . drugged.

Oh, on another issue, there's a meeting in Bountiful next Tuesday, the 9th, about the HF Autism & Asperger's charter school that's coming soon. I have no way to get there and don't know what I'd do with Emily. So I REALLY could use some help figuring out a way there. This is very important that I MEET with the people, and ask them questions, and get as much info as I can.

I'm gonna go lay down. Ergh. Eyelids closing without my permission . . . . even as I keep typing. Eyes closed typing, that's a new trick . . .!

TTYL! TTFN! SYLA! AAWC!

Neurontin side effects?

Actor Crush of the Day: Sean Connery

I can't know for sure, but it's fairly obvious since I started Neurontin, and even more things since I bumped up the dose almost 4 weeks ago, that I'm having some negative side effects that may make it rather not worth it, despite the positive side effects.

From what I know, this is pretty much how the rest of my life is going to be. Testing different meds, and different combos of meds, to find what works, without so many side effects as to counterweigh by too much the positive side effects.

I feel like a guinea pig. Squeak!

Anyway, since bumping up from 900 to 1600, I have frequent woozy-ness and dizziness. A drugged sort of tiredness. You aren't sleepy in the normal sense, and yet you have a hard time keeping your eyes open, in a certain hour after a certain number of hours after taking the dose of medication. It is difficult to explain . . . .

Since starting the Neurontin in early September, after it started to kick in, it seems I've been LESS able to do things around here than ever before. It has severely increased my lack of focus; basically decreased my ability to focus to an extreme degree.

I LOVE to read. I LOVE it, I can read for hours and hours, in the right mood and state of mind. But in this, I imagine ADD-like state of agitated unfocused-ness, I try to read, and only get through a sentence or MAYBE a paragraph, and I HAVE to put it down. It's like trying to force that 700 pound shopping cart, that is skewed to turn one direction, a different way. Except the shopping cart is now like 5000 pounds. You try, and run up against a brick wall. You literally CANNOT force your brain to focus, even on something you love to do. That's just one example. Plus, for more tedious things, imagine the difficulties there. It's like my brain is on railroad tracks, and I can glimpse and sometimes grasp for a second things by the side of the tracks, but the train keeps going and I can't stop it to stay focused on whatever it was. I can't force the train off the rails, and head whatever direction I want.

It's driving Scott and I NUTS. He's frustrated that I haven't been able to do much of anything for 6-8 weeks now, around here. So am I. Before the Neurontin, I wasn't really able to do that much, but it was somewhat more than I am now. Now, it's NOTHING. UGH. The occasional batch of dishes or laundry I could summon up the energy to do about once every 8-9 days before, I can't now. I'm trying though. Occasionally I break through, but then I've used up all my energy, plus still being woozy and dizzy, and I'm then useless for anything for a LONG time.

It's like it was before the Neurontin, only WORSE. Of course, I also wonder, if I have ADD, and the Neurontin lifting some of the bipolar fog allowed that to come to the forefront. That could be, too. Because when the Effexor began to kick in earlier this year, it lifted alot of the horrid depression, and I began to drown in fear more intensely. It lifted the depression that had been dampening those aspects of my illnesses and allowed them to come to the forefront . . . .

Who knows. I've left a message with some details for Dr. Brinley, my iatrist, to call me back and discuss with me. Yet, I'm sad that yet another medication is probably proving to be NOT the solution, so we are back at square one, in regards to the bipolar. Plus the positive effects that I HAVE felt, I will be so SAD to see those go. It will be like the story, "Flowers For Algernon", in that I was able, for the first time in my life, to feel the full extent of my being, to feel fully my soul and depth of character and self, and depth of ability. That will fade away, and I will notice it fading away, until a certain point when so much is gone that I will be as I was before, in a rather unpleasant state and not able to even SEE that there was such a positive state as I had experienced. It's very poignantly sad to anticipate this. But I guess that's the way it goes.

In one way it is NOT back to square one, in that at least we know that Lamictal and Neurontin are not the meds for me . . . . Problem is, alot of the mood-stabilizing meds cause weight gain, to a significant, and for some, a SCARY degree. And at my weight, that is NOT an option.

I feel like a chemical SOUP. I need some croutons, with that, please. WAITER!

My Guest Post at Feminist Mormon Housewives

Actor Crush of the Day: Gregory Peck

See my first guest post on someone else's blog, ever, HERE. It was posted Wednesday, October 26th, so as the days go by it will be farther down the page.

I had some fun reminiscing about Halloween, and contrasting it with how it feels today, as a mother.

Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMILY! My baby is SEVEN . . . . . .!

700 Pound Off-Kilter Shopping Cart

Actor Crush of the Day: Harrison Ford, Indiana Jones
Emily Question or Quote of the Day:

Feeling very . . . pointless. Not in a DARK way, but in a GREY, everthing is all the same and there's no spark or meaning to anything.

I can't focus on much of anything, except beading, for much of any length of time. A few tv shows, maybe.

Doing things in very short spurts, like 1 minute spurts, even.

I tried playing Monopoly Jr. with Emily last night, but my ability to focus is SO BAD, that after just a few minutes, I had to stop. Or continue and end up snapping at her, which would have been WORSE. I had NO resources inside with which to operate with even the tiniest bit of patience it requires to remind my high-functioning autistic daughter, of all the little things as we go through the game. You don't count the space you are on, when you move. You can only kick my building off the space if you get a card that takes you there, says so, and I don't own the whole color. One $2 bill is not one "dollar", it is two. You don't skip spaces when moving. Basically all that and more, of all the little things involved in the game, or most games for that matter.

I felt so GUILTY! A) For not playing games with her more often, as I saw the absolute delight on her face when we started the game, B) for not having the internal resources to continute the game, C) for getting her hopes up in the first place and then dashing them, D) for being such a "bad" mother, E) for forgetting to have her call Grandma Betty and tell her about her field trip, and cheer her up in the hospital, and F) for anything and everything else.

Some of you might be thinking, you couldn't even play a GAME with her? What's wrong with you . . . . I just could not FORCE my brain to stay on track. Not just my brain, but my emotions. Some might say, you can BEAD, but not game with your daughter? And I say, it is not really always up to me what I can focus on and what I can't. And, it depends on the amount, type, and length of attention, focus, and thinking required. I think perhaps beading works because I can do so many other things sporadically at the same time . . . and I can stop and start in little "fits" of 30 seconds of beading, 2 mins of unfocused emotional and mental roaming, sort of "reel" my mind/emotions in again for another short burst of focus, etc.

I CAN'T SUSTAIN my focus or concentration. AT least, not currently. Sometimes I can, it depends on how my illness is shifting; what swing I'm in, what's going on med-wise, mood-wise, biologically-wise.

UGH. Can I say what a pain it is to be so . . . . untethered, attention-wise? It's like trying to force a 700-lb shopping cart, that is veering to the left, back to the right so it'll go straight. You might be able to in very short bursts, depending on how good the wheels and bearings are, but that's about it. And it exhausts you mentally, especially of your ability to focus on anything else for awhile.

You get very VERY short with people, no matter HOW hard you try to keep that inside, when this is going on. The mental filters other people can put in place to limit what they say, are very holey for me, especially more so at some times than others. And so it is like you are trying to plug the holes in your mental filters with all fingers and toes and everything, and you run out because there's too many holes; it also takes focus and concentration and energy to keep that up, and as I said I am very . . . limited in those aspects to begin with, due to my illnesses. I HATE that I get short with people sometimes; I try really HARD not to. And it's so frustrating that some of it leaks out, that I can't stop it all. I wish I could . . . .

My poem, that is my very first post of this blog, has a line in it about "endure me through my trials" or something like that. This is definitely one of those aspects that calls for kindness, patience, understanding, and enduring me through the illness, from my friends and loved ones.

UGH.

How Do You Describe The Indescribable?

Actor Crush of the Day: Ben Affleck.

As it has now been approximately two weeks since I began the Neurontin, I thought it would be worthwhile to pause, reflect, and try to identify these changes, feelings, shifts, and thoughts that I am having regarding its possible effects and changes I may be starting to feel.

Update: I am not entirely sure, though, where my mania ends, and which stuff is real, begins, so keep that in mind.

I feel SOMETHING, that's for sure. FEEL isn't entirely accurate, as my FEELINGS, my emotions, are only part of the equation, here. I sense a shift, in my mind, that is elusive, but barely beginning to be less so. I sense a change in my BEINGness, in my sense of existence and PLACE. I have increased awareness of something, not indefinable, but something I can't quite put into words yet. I feel an increased sense of self; a growing view and awareness of ME, of the fullness that everything I am can be. I feel a growing sense of my personhood, my individual and powerful capacity to act, and to direct my will.

How do you describe something that you have NEVER felt before in your life? How do you describe awaking from a long sleep; from the endless slumber of my soul that was buried, enshrouded, and clothed in the mask of illness that I have been suffering from for so long? How do you describe the dawning of your mind, heart, and even soul, when you have never before known the sun? How do you describe the light, that reveals a character, ability, and breadth of identity that is unlike anything you have seen or felt before?

How do you describe the sense that is as though you have been a caterpillar all your life, knowing nothing else, not even possessing the usual caterpillar instinct to cocoon, hibernate, and grow as nature intended, that you are just discovering that you have WINGS, when you never even knew wings existed before. I feel a sense of coming into my own; a sense of approaching a threshold to a new existence, that I never even knew was there; that I never COULD know, or imagine, because I was locked in the darkness of my illness. I feel a sense of discovering my wings, and just beginning to feel the possibilities of how they can move. And, very far on the horizon, a sense of what I might do with them, once I learn . . . .

How do you describe the indescribable? How do you describe what feels like a flowering of the mind and soul; a flowering, a blossoming into the beginning of what my selfhood was meant to be all along; what my identity as a human being, what my ability as a person, my capability of directing myself should have been all along, were it not for these trials I have come to experience.

I feel the barest beginnings of a perceptual shift, and a perceptual awakening inside my heart and mind, that is beyond anything I could have ever conceived. And I have a VERY strong imagination. It is so . . . encompassing, and yet, not overwhelming because it feels so . . . elementarily essential to my soul's existence; it feels so . . . abstract and yet concrete at the same time . . . . it feels so primally important, and yet so meshed and mixed with my very being that it is . . . an expanding of awareness of will, self-direction, self-knowledge, self-awareness; a satisfyingly conscious and yet subconscious acceptance of my EXISTENCE and an embracing of the fullest reaches of my personality, my uniqueness, my ME-hood.

It is a Growing. An Expanding. A Dawning. An Awakening. An emerging of the fullness of WHO I AM. The beginning of discovering who that is, and what that MEANS. The beginning of being ABLE to discover that there is ME to discover, beyond the constraints of illness which have held me down for so long. There IS more. There is MORE. The sense of POSSIBILITY that was unimaginable, is now on the threshold of imagining. The sense of empowerment, will, ability, consciousness, self-connection, and self-presence is astonishing, enlightening, fulfilling, satisfying, and renewing.

The sense of BEGINNING . . . . is so pervasive, so positive, so filled with a sense of newness and awe.

I by no means feel that I am cured, or healed. This will take TIME, medication of course, THERAPY, care, love, friendship, and other support and resources. I am still ill, and probably will be for the rest of my life, but I am told these illnesses can be managed; that I can heal, and learn to manage them. It will be awhile, though. I must not attempt too much at once, or go overboard. I need to remember just a little at a time. This takes time, among other things, so I ask that you not be impatient with me, or EXPECT certain things from me, just because you have read my positive discoveries. Patience, love, understanding, and withholding of judgement, even if you think I should automatically BE better in any aspect, because of what you may have read.

These things are HUGE, and feel as though they will take a while to sink in, and become firmly a part of how I can be. It will take awhile to REALLY wrap my mind and heart around these things. Still, it is a very profound and excellent experience, to begin to awaken to myself, to realize that the illness clouded so much of who I am, and who I can become. So much of ME at such a basic level, even.

Medication Woes?

Actor Crush of the Day: Alec Baldwin (The Shadow)
Emily Quote or Question of the Day: I love cute baby Robin, she's MY cousin! (Again, by special request of Emily, she wished this to be her quote of the day!)

Alrighty, then. I've been on Neurontin since Monday night. The first night I slept ok, but the iatrist did warn me of some initial sleepiness when getting used to the drug.

The second night, I slept maybe an hour less, but still a decent hour of sleep. After that, there was definitely no sleepiness associated with this medication.

Wednesday night, I believe I might have gotten 4 hours of sleep. It felt as though my brain was stuck in gear, although it wasn't racing. It felt like my brain, my thoughts, could not shift downwards and allow relaxation into sleep. It was very odd, as I've very definitely experienced racing thoughts in the past that wouldn't let my brain ramp down into sleep, but this week was different than that.

I forgot to mention, that Thursday night, I only received TWO hours of very light sleep.

It has also felt like perhaps I could feel just a little bit of shifting in my brain, of maybe thought patterns or feelings or some combination of the two; not really the drug "telling" me what to think, but sort of a "re-setting" of the functioning of the interactions in my brain. It is difficult to describe, especially since it takes 3 weeks to really kick in. But this is the barest of tiny shifts that I may perhaps be starting to detect.

I am going to call the iatrist later, and see what he says re: the sleep issue, because that's a big issue. I am wondering if it may just be from stopping the Klonopin, but the last time I stopped it, my sleep went down to 4-5 hours a night, not TWO.

TTYL.

And Down She Goes . . .

where i am*
Originally uploaded by antimethod.

Stupid

Emotional

Downpour

*(Note: I am not a cow. At least, I am not a cow on days that end in Y.)

Have you ever cried tears of Pain and Joy?

Originally uploaded by ccarriconde.

Actor Crush of the Day: Rob Lowe
Emily Question or Quote of the Day: So THAT'S what causes a fart.

Other than childbirth, which is beyond just about anything.

I thought this picture captures the feeling nicely, as it looks as though the flower is crying, and yet it is so beautiful, it is joy.

I cried tears of Joy and Pain today, at the same time. The tears were both, all in one, and yet more.

The meaning and depth of feeling and awareness that I experienced in today's therapy session with Dr. Mower, is beyond my description, at least for the moment.

The image of this crying flower, which it seems to me is weeping for the sheer joy of beauty, and the pain of indefinable sadness, speaks more for the experience I went through today, than anything else I could write.

It's Official: Bipolar Rapid Cycling

The other things we'll get to at some other time, but at our appointment tomorrow we'll discuss what having a diagnoses means to me; he seemed kind of curious about that. He was also like, no one's told you? And I'm like, Hell no. Somebody tell me what's going on PLEASE so I can know it isn't just ME. I mean, I know it's not just me, but having a name to put to it, and a type, helps.

I don't have to explain or justify my illnesses to anyone by providing a diagnosis on a silver platter (although part of me thinks alot of people expect it, and would treat me badly if I didn't).

But. I guess it is obvious I am cycling tonight, as he put it. The psychologist, as I just got off the phone with him. I've heard the term before, but it didn't really mean much to me other than just a general term for mood swings/shifts, but now that I know it is a very specific thing for me, it helps. It's hard to explain.

Someone else might say, well DUH of course you were cycling, but for me, it was more like just picturing a pendulum going back and forth, without me really understanding anything about what was going on. It had no definition, it was just kind of a rough thing to endure, but an undefined "thing". Now I feel . . maybe a sense that I can start to learn to accept my bipolar diagnosis, instead of feeling like I'm waiting for something.

I can feel the shock (well some of that's over, but . . .as I reflect, there still actually is alot of shock, at finally HEARING the diagnosis and realizing that it is REAL, somehow you hope against all hope that it isn't, when no one has told you officially), the hurt, the disappointment, the anger at having to have this, the acceptance, et. al, that most people would feel upon hearing they have a serious disease. I feel like I've been on hold since January, kind of like a mouse running in a wheel that never goes anywhere. I've been let out of the wheel now.

I went through alot of the shock and anger and such last January, after first hearing and learning of the possibility that I could be bipolar. I was pretty much in bed for a MONTH. It was, well, kind of like the grieving process, I imagine. Except I could only get to a certain point, and no farther, because there was no actual diagnoses or anything like that. There was nothing TO accept, nothing TO learn to find the meaning of, nothing TO rail against, besides myself and some unnamed "illness(es)".

I apologize if I've hurt anyone's feelings, but at the same time, A, my judgement really sucks today, and it's difficult to know where to stop, and B, when certain feelings have been harbored for years, they tend to come out . . . . I do not want to harbor them for the next 50 years.

Anyway, I feel like I am at the beginning of a process, of learning to accept the diagnoses. Funny though that sounds, since I've been acting as though that's the working diagnosis, which it has been. Although no "type" was ever mentioned, until tonight.

So I may get angry, defensive, hurt, withdrawn, extremely sad, overwhelmed, irritable, etc., as I process what this means for me. So what else is new, I am all those things frequently. I have this disease, and I'm sorry it affects the people around me, but I can't be constantly apologizing for it. Would you expect someone with cancer to constantly apologize for it? A kind that has, say, only a 1 in 6 chance of dying from it?

I ask, and beg, for your patience and kindness as I go through all of this.

My iatrist is a Dork.

Actor Crush of the Day: They're all ugly today.
Emily Question or Quote of the Day: Hey, What Do You Know? I Think I Might Like First Grade!

I mean that in a, I like him but I'm still not used to him kind of way. He's . . . . got a rather . . . unique personality. I can tell he is very good at what he does, but at the same time, I am still getting to know him and what role he's supposed to play in my mental health care.

I've been seeing the ologist for about 2-3 months now, on a weekly basis, once twice in one week as he was rather concerned about my stability. So I've had ample opportunity to get to know my ologist and his style, and methods and build a working relationship and trust with him.

It's kind of jarring to sort of start almost from scratch with somebody, as today is only the second time I've ever seen Dr. Brinley. He was out for the summer, and I saw a sub. I'll be seeing him again in 5-6 weeks. I'll also be starting Neurontin, a mood stabilizer, as soon as I can get the prescription filled.

It is difficult for me to define and split what sorts of things I should tell the ologist and what sorts of things I should tell the iatrist. Pretty much everything should be told to the ologist, but then it's hard to figure out what kind of filter to use in telling the iatrist things. He doesn't need to know all the stuff I do with Dr. Mower. But he needs to know some stuff. I am just not sure exactly which things.

So I feel like I maybe need to ASK Dr. Mower tomorrow, and Dr. Brinley the next time I see him, how they fit together into my treatment plan and stuff. And if either of them are ever going to definitively tell me what the hell I all have. The working diagnoses have been bipolar, SAD, GAD, and OCD, but there's been no official diagnoses.

SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT THE HELL I HAVE, OKAY? I am getting so frustrated. Seeing has how they've prescribed the mood stabilizer, I suppose the bipolar is confirmed. The iatrist says it should help me sleep better and hopefully help with some of the anxieties/fears I've been drowning in too, but I guess we'll see.

I pretty much have to operate under the umbrella of the working diagnoses, as I can't live in a state of limbo. That's what I have until I'm told otherwise, and anyone who is like, oh, you just want attention, you haven't REALLY been diagnosed, can just go jump in a lake. A really COLD lake. I am ill, and if they judge me in any way, shape, or form, or reject my illnesses, that is their shortcoming and problem, not mine. I will accept no such judgement of me, got it?

The Fight goes on, Wearily . . . .

Actor Crush of the Day: Patrick Stewart
Emily Question or Quote of the Day: For Really and for True?

I am so weary of the fight. The constant, everlasting struggle. I long for Peace with all my soul.

Every time I have a victory, and win a major battle, within a few days some huge, difficult, really painful issue, fear, or other, rises from the depths and deals me a knockout punch.

I feel so bloodied and battered and bruised from the constant beating I feel I am taking in this war of mental illness. How long will I continue to be able to arise again after each knockdown, and re-set myself for the endless battle?

Doctrine & Covenants 10:4 Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate, but be diligent unto the end.

This scripture is referring to Joseph Smith's labor of translating the Book of Mormon, but I feel that it applies to me as well. Just remove the words "to translate", and it then reads with a meaning like unto the following scripture:

Mosiah 4:27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.

We are to liken the scriptures unto us, and our situations, and so I feel as though my take on the above D&C scripture, paired with the Mosiah scripture, gives a good description of an issue I reflect on frequently.

I tend to often wonder, if we aren't required to run faster than we have strength, or labor beyond our means, then why am I overwhelmed with everything I am in the midst of?

What I often forget, and what became clearer as I looked up these two references, is what the D&C scripture states, "Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you (emphasis added)". What this means to me is that the Lord will provide the strength and means, but he may not necessarily provide as much as you ask for, and so do not labor beyond what you have yourself and beyond what strength and means He has added in as well.

A second thing that I do know inside, and have practiced all my life, but I sometimes don't really think about, is the fact that both these scriptures IMMEDIATELY follow up the "do not labor beyond your strength" verbage, with "be diligent (unto the end)". To me, this means, that even though there will be times that you may not have, and/or may not be given, the strength to press forward in your labors, or to do more than a very little; even though there may be times where all you can do is hang on, and have faith, because there may be no cure or means provided to deal with the trial at hand, that if you are diligent, and long-suffering (which I associate with being diligent), and have patience, and just hold on in those times when there is no strength for going forward, no strength for laboring, then it will be well, in the end.

There is a biblical scripture that practically everyone has heard, regarding a time for peace, a time for war, a time for etc., etc., etc. There is a time and a place for everything, and sometimes I just need to hold on, when I am weary from the struggle. It is not lazy to do so, although my internal dialogue keeps telling me that it is . . . . I know in my head it is not lazy, but my heart still tends to beat me up for it. My heart is a tough taskmaster.

I hung on for 20 years, praying for answers as to what was wrong with me, as well as praying for help. Finally, at the age of 33, some answers and help have come, although it is by NO means an easy or exact process. It is not "Oh, here's the answers and help, be on your way and get on with your life". It is a new phase of the struggle; the struggle is not over. And in some ways, the war has deepened, as I become more aware of myself and my issues.

For those 20 years, I stumbled forwards at times, and hung on at times. I still do both, as the very nature of my challenges are cyclical. But I was diligent, and I WAS faithful, as my prayers were finally answered. I do not say "finally" in a critical, "It's about TIME!", kind of way, but as a more sweet reward; more sweet for all the years of suffering and prayer, than perhaps it would have been after only 1, 5, or 10 years.

I do not know the reason why the Lord chose to withhold this help for so long, but I do know it has nothing to do with being righteous enough, or personal sin, or whatever. That would be like saying all those years of suffering without knowing exactly what I was suffering from, mental illness-wise, was due to sin. Mental illness is NOT due to sin. My suffering, and the length thereof, was not and IS not due to sin.

The Lord has his own purposes in things, and his own purposes of what we need to learn from different experiences, and when we need certain blessings. I know that there are truths, insights, and principles I learned during those 20 years that I may yet not know the purpose for, but for which I am grateful, as I know the Lord knows exactly what I need to learn, and gives us exactly what we need, when we need, to help us learn it. I awaited, sometimes not so patiently, but I did my best to, the answers and help that have recently arrived in my life.

In a way, I must say, beware what you pray for, because you just might receive it. Sometimes the only thing that helps me be strong in this therapy process, is the thought and feeling of 20 years of anguish and praying; that I prayed TWENTY YEARS for this. When I quail at the hellish pain and difficulties confronting me, I have so far eventually been able to confront them, in part because of the 20 years that have come before. That may perhaps be only one of the reasons the Lord had for the timing of these answers and help, and it may perhaps be the least of them. Since I don't know, all I can do is take strength from wherever I can, and the previous 20 years have provided me with a type and depth of persistence and strength that I have a difficult time recognizing, but when I do it is of a very fine nature; it is as the spiritual and emotional equivalent of the most precious, most sweet, most delicious and most prized fruit that the earth or heaven has to offer.

1 Nephi:31 And now I, Nephi, being a man large in stature, and also having received much strength of the Lord, therefore I did seize upon the servant of Laban, and held him, that he should not flee.

The Lord has blessed me with strength in the past, and I have faith that he will do so again in the future, especially so as I have faith, and am learning patience, and TRYING to learn to be long-suffering. I pray for strength frequently, and do not doubt him when I do not receive it. There is a reason for my struggles, even though I do not know why. The one thing I do NOT do is blame Him. There are dark moments where, as most everyone does, I do wonder WHY and acheingly wish for an end to the pain. That is a part of the nature of my struggles. But I keep on. I keep on.

Alma 20:4 Now Lamoni said unto Ammon: I know, in the strength of the Lord thou canst do all things. But behold, I will go with thee to the land of Middoni; for the king of the land of Middoni, whose name is Antiomno, is a friend unto me; therefore I go to the land of Middoni, that I may flatter the king of the land, and he will cast thy brethren out of prison. Now Lamoni said unto him: Who told thee that thy brethren were in prison?

I know in the strength of the Lord I can do all things. The crux is, if we had his strength with us every second of every day, this life would not be much of a test. And so, the previous scriptures, where it tells us to not run or labor faster than the strength and means which have been provided to us.

In this scripture, and throughout the rest of the chapter, it is through Lamoni's assistance, and the Lord watching out for his servant Ammon, that the thing (the release of his brethren from prison) was accomplished. Lamoni acknowledged the Lord's power and strength, but then offered his own assistance, because while the Lord WILL lend us strength, it is requisite that we should do as much for ourselves and others as we are able, without going beyond our strength or means. (I could start a whole discussion on "balance" and "moderation in all things" in regards to that, but I'll save that for another time.)

For those who are confronting struggles in life, the aid and assistance of friends and loved ones cannot be overstated as to how helpful and even essential it is. I know I struggle mightily in those times when I believe I have no one, which is frequently. Lamoni was just such an aid and assist to Ammon; he even stood up to his father's anger for him.

One last scripture I'd like to quote, and while it might sound rather depressing, I see it more as just the "test" aspect of life; the fact that we all have what essentially is our "lot" in life, and we must do with it the best that we can. It doesn't mean that we can't overcome, and that we can't learn, and that help, possible relief, peace, et. al won't come. What it does mean, I think, is that we need to ACCEPT the trial, and endure it with acceptance and faith.

Alma 20:30 And, as it happened, it was their lot to have fallen into the hands of a more hardened and a more stiff-necked people; therefore they would not hearken unto their words, and they had cast them out, and had smitten them, and had driven them from house to house, and from place to place, even until they had arrived in the land of Middoni; and there they were taken and cast into prison, and bound with strong cords, and kept in prison for many days, and were delivered by Lamoni and Ammon.

It was the brethren of Ammons' lot(s) to have these trials to endure. A difficult principle, but some days, sometimes not very often, but some days I am beginning to get a glimmer of what this means for me. If you substitute "mental illness(es)" for prison, that would pretty much describe it for me. The hardened and stiff-necked people also being the illnesses.

There is hope, though, in this seemingly dark and despondent verse. They were "delivered" in the end. I have hope and faith, that with time, perhaps it may be decades or the rest of my life, but with time, faith and therapy; with the love, friendship and support of friends and family: with the expertise and care of the mental health professionals I am working with; by keeping in touch with my visiting teachers, home teachers, and bishop; that with long-suffering, patience, acceptance, and diligence the time of my deliverance from these trials will come. The time when I will be able to conquer these illnesses WILL come, thought it may be many years down the road.

Here's a link to a post, and a comment I made on that post, about long-suffering that was really illuminating for me, and is helpful also for thinking about in regards to my post of today.

Why is Silliness Judged So Harshly?

Note: No one criticized me for my "100 things" post or my silliness; this is just a subject I've been thinking about for awhile. I guess it may seem that this post is a non-apology apology for my silliness, but it isn't. (Well, maybe it WAS, because I was having a panic attack about my 100 things post. But partway through composing this post, I realized that I am ME, and that is okay. Actually, that is BETTER than okay, it's GREAT! (Insert Tony the Tiger here!))

At least, I feel as though it is. Given my perceptions are strongly affected by my illnesses, particularly my anxiety disorders, this may or may not be true, to lower or higher degrees, but I wonder.

I feel strongly like I am supposed to "apologize" for the silliness in my "100 things post", and "apologize it away" by "excusing" it as an effect of my illnesses.

You know, it is sad that I feel that way. Why in this world is silliness seen as such an unacceptable, inferior type of behavior? Is it just intellectual snobbery, or just the natural tendency of people to try and find something with which to prove that someone else is inferior to them?

Silliness, it seems to me, is one of the absolutely easiest and quickly latched-onto behaviors for which people are ridiculed, demeaned, and dismissed.

I am also afraid that any readers that I have attracted will read the "100 things" post, and wonder, "Where is the eloquently expressive author of the "Chill Fog of Depression" post?". I am afraid that there will be a natural revulsion to my expressions of silliness, and people will recoil, in almost a form of social disgust, from any such behavior?

What, if anything, is so socially repulsive or socially disgusting about silliness?

I am, on many levels, an intellectual; a sedate, contemplative, more serious soul who really enjoys a good intellectual debate, discussion, or informal chat on a more intellectual level than most people I know. I am very analytical, and logical at times. I try to be very precise and expressive in the language I use, at particular times, regarding a variety of subjects.

And yet, I am also a highly impulsive person. A person full of humor, and the wide variety of ways in which it can be expressed. The spirit of humor, spontenaity and playfulness bursts forth from me in a variety of ways, means, times, and settings. It is difficult for me at times to limit the appropriateness, quantity, quality, theme, and timing of such things. This, I realize, is extremely affected by my illnesses.

And yet, I believe, without these illnesses, I would still enjoy silliness, humor, and the playful things and behaviors of life. Why should I feel so ashamed of them? I feel as though our society, and particularly even Mormon culture, tends to frown on such perceived frivolity.

I do not know how much of the silliness comes from me, and how much from the mania and illnesses. I do know that the extent and depth and breadth of how I express it is, indeed, strongly affected and caused by my conditions. I do not know as yet which is me and which is the illnesses, and, at present, I don't feel I should have to apologize for being the way I am, even if it is uncomfortable for others to accept me and my behavior.

It gets very old, and hurtful to my soul, to feel as though I "should" apologize for who I am, for how I behave, so often, in ways that other people do not approve of or agree with, just because I am ill. I do, however, take responsibility for my actions, and apologize for hurt that I have caused that wasn't a necessary part of, say, working on interpersonal issues with someone, or wasn't a necessary part of staying true to myself. (If you are trying to resolve problems between people, it is the very nature of the process that unpleasant things are going to come up.)

I tend to bend under the pressure of what other people think I should be or do, because they may be offended if I stick to what I believe I should do, but I am becoming stronger in myself. Even if what I think is appropriate to do, hurts someone else's feelings because they want us to come to their function, and we (Scott and I), don't think it fits with our plans or what we decide is what we are doing that day. This is the type of thing I mean about not apologizing for hurt I've caused someone by staying true to myself. I can't apologize for every single thing I do that doesn't fit someone else's plan, or that they don't approve of, or like. Well I could, but it damages my soul to do so.

Back to the point of feeling as though I am "supposed" to apologize for my silliness, as it probably causes discomfort for people. I need to learn to accept myself, and anytime I apologize for some behavior or such that MIGHT be causing discomfort to someone, but isn't actually harmful, OR behavior that might hurt their feelings but was necessary to stay true to the goals and principles I feel are important, it causes deep harm inside. It is as though I am apologizing for what makes me ME. As though I am apologizing for existing. As though I am SUPPOSED to apologize for being myself, because it is inconvenient for others if I do not. It is inconvenient for others to experience someone who is "different".

Again, I do not know how accurate these impressions of mine are, as my anxiety disorders severely cause alot of these types of worries. Still, over the years, it feels as though there is a lot of truth and experience in these.

Also, it feels as though I am supposed to apologize for having Bipolar, SAD, GAD, and OCD, when I feel like people want me to apologize for the behavior the illnesses effect or cause. This can be tricky, because I do take responsibility for myself, especially when I return to a state of mind and emotions in which I can recognize that I may have done something hurtful. I apologize when I feel it necessary, and sincerely do so. But, I am beginning to feel as though I overapologize for things. For the things that it feels as though the result is me apologizing for my illness, and/or silliness, and/or some other aspect of my personality or life experience. This is REALLY harmful to me inside.

Also, I do not think I should have to apologize for every joke that perhaps crossed the line, or every behavior that was so wierd, silly, depressed, needy, clingy, or selfish that it wouldn't be deemed "socially acceptable". I am not saying I have a license to behave however I want; however, I am beginning to feel that, if I apologize for every said instance I just mentioned, I would be constantly apologizing, and constantly apologizing for my illnesses.

People need to accept that it goes with the territory, and that I may behave in ways they aren't entirely comfortable with, and that I won't always apologize for such. I don't have carte blanche to let loose, but given the level and intensity of impulsivity I experience, I feel as though it should be understood that I am going to be somewhat odd, and that is just the way I am. No matter how hard I try, things will come out that perhaps aren't the best. And it is okay to be me, flawed though I am.

I feel as though people hold me to a standard that is higher than that to which they hold themselves. But then again, my anxieties make me rather paranoid.

100 Things You Really Must Know About Me

Actor Crush of the Day: William Shatner, . . . Original . . . . . Star Trek . . . . .TV . . . . era

100 things you really must know about me

0.5 I AM MANIC RIGHT NOW. Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. Thank you.

1. I fantasize alot.
2. I love superheroes.
3. I fantasize alot about superheroes.
4. I love Wonder Woman.
5. I love Marvin the Martian. I admire his spunk.
6. Right now I am eating for dinner a can of pear halves, and a crushed cooked chicken ramen.
7. I just realized I have a Take 5 candy bar hidden about the place and it isn't going to be here 30 seconds from now. (Thanks honey!)
8. I am very impulsive.
9. I like Barbies, especially their clothes, and have been known to enjoy dressing them.
10. I just started beading, and I love it! Of course, it fits in with OCD very nicely . . .
11. My husband is getting tired of picking up all the beads that somehow make their way into nooks and crannies of the living room all by themselves.
12. If I could choose a profession in addition to Motherhood, I'd perhaps pick planetary geologist.
13. Or Marine Mammal Neurologist/Dolphin Communications Researcher.
14. Except I am squeamish about innards, and could not complete the biological studies necessary to achieve #13.
15. I get silly, frequently. Get used to it.
16. I love cheese.
17. I am lactose intolerant.
18. Strawberries are the food of the gods.
19. In recent months I once lived for a whole week on mostly banana splits that my husband fixed for me. The psychologist actually said that was a good idea, because it was better than the alternative.
20. Now you know why I like my psychologist. (Do not take living on banana splits as official medical advice; my experiences are purely my own, and anecdotal. Did I mention I have anxiety disorders? It's showing . . . .)
21. Microwave popcorn. I live on it sometimes, because it's cheap and quick.
22. I'm nuts about dolphins.
23. I have never swam (or is it swum?) with dolphins.
24. I have never touched a real dolphin.
25. Why couldn't Superman go for Wonder Woman, rather than Lois Lane? It'd save him all that time he spends rescuing Lois. WW can take care of herself.
26. I used to think The Princess Bride was the stupidest movie ever, until I watched it the third time.
27. And, until I watched Space Balls for the first time while dating my future husband.
28. Sorry, Honey.
29. It is funny though. Especially since the capitalized phrase, Space Balls, makes me think of something entirely different than the Star Wars spoof-movie.
30. I know your mind just went there.
31. Apparently, I'm also a mind-reader. OOOO I have special powers.
32. I have never seen the movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, which, I've been told, in some circles, is a sacrilege!
33. Given my past experiences with, ahem, low-ball humor movies (did your mind just go THERE again?), I am not quite sure about it's prospects in my future. Then again, if I can learn to appreciate even a few things from Space Balls, the Holy Grail may not be out of reach after all . . .
34. And thus, I solve the mysteries of the ages, and discover the Holy Grail! Um, wait, did I mention that my imagination runs away with me sometimes? As does my humor . . .
35. Puns. Learn to like them. They are in my blood.
36. When composing the text for my wedding invitations with my future in-laws, somehow the term "pith helmet" came up. I guess we were trying to be pithy. We then wondered what a pith helmet was.
37. I deftly impressed my future in-laws with my wit when I burst forth with, "It's a helmet you pith in?"
38. I'd be Wonder Woman for Halloween, but a 280 pound white gal (when I say white, I mean my legs are whiter than the innards of a McDonald's Fish Fillet Sandwich) dressed in that number is an image to be frightened of.
39. *see note
40. *see note
41. A star-spangled knee-length skirt, paired with a red short sleeve golden eagle embellished top, a golden belt and rope, and a blue cape with white stars around the edges, as well as the golden tiara with red star, has been an alternative outfit I have considered. For Halloween.
42. Have I mentioned I am currently undergoing psychological and psychiatric treatment?
43. I am bipolar. I am Sarebear. I am white.
44. I do not live at the north pole.
45. I have social anxiety disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, and a partridge in a pear tree.
46. Well, no, on that last, but it sounded good, didn't it?
47. I have OCD.
48. I have OCD.
49. I have OCD.
50. Things go well in threes, do they not?
51. Just joshing you (about the threes, not OCD.) Thought I could wring some filler material out of it to get this list over with quicker.
52. I have OCD . . .
53. Shoot, they're on to me. Pay no attention to that manic person behind the curtain . . . .
54. I love disaster fiction novels. Apocalyptic, post-nuclear, earthquake, whatever. Although they better not do more than just mention sex, which eleminates most of them.
55. I love disaster movies too.
56. I have the same first and last initials as my husband, and my middle name rhymes with his.
57. I got terribly, horrifyingly lost at Opryland when I was 11. (I've heard it's closed now?)
58. I've been beat up twice.
59. I've been whipped, literally whipped, with one of those jumpropes with the tubular plastic things over it to keep it from fraying from repeatedly hitting the ground. Those hurt, man! So maybe it was 3 beatings.
60. That Take 5 candy bar DID last more than 30 seconds. I forgot about it until the next day, which is when I'm typing from 54 and on.
61. I have been to Canada.
62. I used to dream in French.
63. I love Astronomy and all the philosophical stuff that one can think about the universe and aliens and astronomical physics and stuff.
64. I do not own a telescope. But wish I did.
65. I've never had my hair professionally colored.
66. I don't wear makeup, and don't really know how.
67. And I'm 33.
68. My sneakers are a year and a half old.
69. I love Gregory Peck.
70. War of the Worlds (Tom Cruise version) left me cold. Not because it was a disaster movie, but in the end it seems humans have nothing to do with overcoming the protagonist. So you are left with a sense of incompleteness, and un-satisfaction, if that's a word. As well, I expected better of Spielberg/Cruise, even though the effects were spectacular. (It's an old and famous book, I figure those who were worried about spoilers have either seen it or read it by now.)
71. On the other hand, I hold a low opinion of Cruise's views on psychology/psychiatry.
72. I met my husband on a local dial-up BBS. No, that's not the internet.
73. I get frustrated easily, and am frustrated about that.
74. Actually I have been beaten by someone else, but that's as far as I'll say.
75. My right knee hurts alot. Sometimes so much I can't put any weight even on my toes.
76. I may seem picky on some things, but it's the way my brain deals with overwhelming options, and multiple anxieties. Basically, I can't help it.
77. I talk too much. I can't stop. I've tried for 3 decades. Being told to shut up hurts deeply, or anything like it.
78. I can't take rejection. Yeah, that's my problem. Or anything that even vaguely seems like it.
79. Hmm apparently, from #54 on, I'm no longer manic . . lol.
80. More later.
*NOTE: For those wondering about #'s 39 and 40, each was a picture of one of my legs. Told you they were white . . .