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 . . . . . .!
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Saturday, October 08, 2005
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.
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.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
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.
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.
Friday, September 16, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
And Down She Goes . . .
Stupid
Emotional
Downpour
*(Note: I am not a cow. At least, I am not a cow on days that end in Y.)
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Have you ever cried tears of Pain and Joy?
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.
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.
Monday, September 12, 2005
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.
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?
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?
Sunday, September 11, 2005
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
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.
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 . . .
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 . . .
Monday, September 05, 2005
A Little Manic & Maybe OCD Silliness
Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Laurie (Thanks Lizzie for reminding me of this!)
Yes I can have Two Crushes Of The Day if I so choose! And I DEFINITELY choose.
Looking forward to my psychologist appointment tomorrow.
Tuesday. Why does it seem like such a blah day? I thought that was Monday. Besides, I'm a SAHM, so it shouldn't really matter. If the trees would hurry up and get some color, that'd brighten up the landscape. I'll take it personally if they don't. 8^P
Fall. Is there a word that is the complete opposite, that isn't something dorky and clinical sounding like Arise, Rise, Up, etc?
The word Fall just conveys so much because of the season, but seriously, there ought to be some kind of opposite word that isn't too dorky. And no, Spring doesn't count because it isn't necessarily vertical; it can be just springing forward.
My mind latches onto wierd ideas like this sometimes.
Just going to brainstorm some opposites for Fall - up, away, rise, rising, lift, uplift, soar, raise, ascend, ARGH.
Ascend is the only one of the bunch that implies a fairly straight rising upwards. Or at least some sort of direction to it, the others could all be wafting all over the place like the feather in Forrest Gump. But it just doesn't seem to fit the purpose. Ugh, now it feels like an OCD thing and I have to figure out the "right" word.
Well, looking at this post, I can tell I am definitely going into my manic/silly/disjointed/where-the-heck did she come up with that mode?
Pardon any silliness that may come your way. You have been WARNED.
I don't really know that much about OCD yet but I certainly know about various compulsions I feel. Feel free to not provide any words if you don't want to play into any wierd compulsions I might have. Then again, it may just be a manifestation of my silly, manic, mood.
I hesitate to post this, for fear of ridicule, but it really is typical of some kinds of mania and/or OCD stuff that comes up. And since I want people to learn what it's like, I suppose I'll post it. Embarrassing though my silliness may be.
I do want to caution you, though, that you should not tell me anything about how I should or should not behave or act or whatever in regards to OCD. I don't know much about it yet, but from the little I've read, people's natural responses can be not so good a thing for the OCD sufferer. When I know more, I can refer people to appropriate sites and stuff about it.
You don't need to approve or disapprove of my behavior, or feel afraid of interacting with me or that you'll somehow make me worse. I just mention the above caution, so that you can have some idea of what not to do.
I admit that my post and ideas can be silly! Anyone seeing my silliness and acknowledging it will not offend or hurt me. As long as it is not mean-spirited.
Yes I can have Two Crushes Of The Day if I so choose! And I DEFINITELY choose.
Looking forward to my psychologist appointment tomorrow.
Tuesday. Why does it seem like such a blah day? I thought that was Monday. Besides, I'm a SAHM, so it shouldn't really matter. If the trees would hurry up and get some color, that'd brighten up the landscape. I'll take it personally if they don't. 8^P
Fall. Is there a word that is the complete opposite, that isn't something dorky and clinical sounding like Arise, Rise, Up, etc?
The word Fall just conveys so much because of the season, but seriously, there ought to be some kind of opposite word that isn't too dorky. And no, Spring doesn't count because it isn't necessarily vertical; it can be just springing forward.
My mind latches onto wierd ideas like this sometimes.
Just going to brainstorm some opposites for Fall - up, away, rise, rising, lift, uplift, soar, raise, ascend, ARGH.
Ascend is the only one of the bunch that implies a fairly straight rising upwards. Or at least some sort of direction to it, the others could all be wafting all over the place like the feather in Forrest Gump. But it just doesn't seem to fit the purpose. Ugh, now it feels like an OCD thing and I have to figure out the "right" word.
Well, looking at this post, I can tell I am definitely going into my manic/silly/disjointed/where-the-heck did she come up with that mode?
Pardon any silliness that may come your way. You have been WARNED.
I don't really know that much about OCD yet but I certainly know about various compulsions I feel. Feel free to not provide any words if you don't want to play into any wierd compulsions I might have. Then again, it may just be a manifestation of my silly, manic, mood.
I hesitate to post this, for fear of ridicule, but it really is typical of some kinds of mania and/or OCD stuff that comes up. And since I want people to learn what it's like, I suppose I'll post it. Embarrassing though my silliness may be.
I do want to caution you, though, that you should not tell me anything about how I should or should not behave or act or whatever in regards to OCD. I don't know much about it yet, but from the little I've read, people's natural responses can be not so good a thing for the OCD sufferer. When I know more, I can refer people to appropriate sites and stuff about it.
You don't need to approve or disapprove of my behavior, or feel afraid of interacting with me or that you'll somehow make me worse. I just mention the above caution, so that you can have some idea of what not to do.
I admit that my post and ideas can be silly! Anyone seeing my silliness and acknowledging it will not offend or hurt me. As long as it is not mean-spirited.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
A stone cutter hammering away at his rock . . .
Actor Crush of the Day: Cary Grant (An Affair to Remember - The moment when he realizes . . . . and if you have to ask me what, go rent the movie!)
The following quote, which I read in a recent post on Maren's site, really struck a chord inside me. I'm going to sleep on it, and ponder it, and digest it for the next few days to week, as I do sometimes with things like this. At the end of this "ruminating" process, I usually discover something really meaningful about myself, life, and/or other things. I will let you know what I figure out.
The following quote, which I read in a recent post on Maren's site, really struck a chord inside me. I'm going to sleep on it, and ponder it, and digest it for the next few days to week, as I do sometimes with things like this. At the end of this "ruminating" process, I usually discover something really meaningful about myself, life, and/or other things. I will let you know what I figure out.
Look at a stone cutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times
without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred-and-first blow it
will split in two, and I know it was not the last blow that did it, but all that
had gone before. ~Jacob A. Riis
What is currently striking me is two different thoughts, from two different points of view. The first, involves me being the rock, and the Lord being the stone cutter. Throughout the trials and events of life, I am slowly being worked into what he needs; into what he wants me to become.
The second, involves me and my psychologist, working as a team through therapy to affect change in my soul, heart, mind, spirit, and life. And slowly, even if it seems Oh-So-Slowly, we'll get there.
I'm a work in progress, in both of these analogies.
I am not a patient person, but this sort of thinking, feeling, and realization, helps me to learn to become a bit more so. Thanks for the quote post, Maren!
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Chill Fog of Depression
Actor Crush of the Day: Denzel Washington
Very depressed. The grey blah-ness blankets everything like a chill fog, smothering any bits of brightness or interest in the landscape of my life.
The lead-weight of lethargy has settled in with the fog, feeling as though I am Jacob Marley from the Christmas Carol; encumbered by chains wrapped around me that no one else can see, the weight of which saps every joy and motivation from my being. Any spark of enthusiasm or direction quickly gutters out within the chill of this damp, pervasive fog.
The purposeless emptiness and listlessness of untethered emotional wandering within the bleakness of surrounding sameness saps the energy and vibrancy from my soul.
Incalculable exhaustion of the heart precedes and follows most every person, thing and event which happens to enter by misfortune the scattered and shattered focus of my fog-bound existence.
Very depressed. The grey blah-ness blankets everything like a chill fog, smothering any bits of brightness or interest in the landscape of my life.
The lead-weight of lethargy has settled in with the fog, feeling as though I am Jacob Marley from the Christmas Carol; encumbered by chains wrapped around me that no one else can see, the weight of which saps every joy and motivation from my being. Any spark of enthusiasm or direction quickly gutters out within the chill of this damp, pervasive fog.
The purposeless emptiness and listlessness of untethered emotional wandering within the bleakness of surrounding sameness saps the energy and vibrancy from my soul.
Incalculable exhaustion of the heart precedes and follows most every person, thing and event which happens to enter by misfortune the scattered and shattered focus of my fog-bound existence.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
My Hurricane Katrina Feelings & Reactions
Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox
I feel a sense of helplessness, against the scale of the disaster, the scope of what's needed, the desperateness of the situation, and the horrifying experiences that people are having to endure, who are in the midst of the aftermath.
I know it's natural to feel helpless when seeing such images of widespread destruction and suffering; the helplessness at the overwhelming power of nature. And so, knowing this, I am not drowning in it or sinking in it.
So many things have struck me, and entered into my heart in this national experience of disaster that I feel personally, as much as can be considering I was not touched physically by the Hurricane, but touched and deeply affected inside by what I feel as a citizen of this nation is an intense, sad, and desperate experience for all of us to see.
The volunteers, who are doing everything they can, and feel so helpless that they can't do more.
The 4 Navy ships on their way with food, fresh water, supplies, medicines, etc., that can't get there fast enough. The fierce and oh-so-urgent need for these things that the people NEED.
All the people who are still trapped in their attics, on their roofs, or other places.
The hospitals, where patients are or have been airlifted out, but in which alot of employees and their families are left behind in, as at least they aren't as urgently in need as those trapped in attics, or the SuperDome. I never thought I would see a day where people trapped in a hospital, surrounded by water, healthy though they all are, would be "a lesser priority". That in itself helps instill a sense of the scope of this destruction.
The SuperDome, where the air has become foul, sanitation facilities are overwhelmed, there is no food or water, the buses cannot get to because of the water surrounding it, the dome itself is open to the elements in places, and rival gang members inside are starting to cause trouble. Imagine the fear and desperateness and intense NEED that is present in such circumstances, and think even more upon any little ones, infirm, and/or elderly who may be trapped in such circumstances, or worse. The refugees need to be rescued from their refuge, and are to be bused to the Houston AstroDome, 350 miles away. It is the only thing big enough and close at hand in the area, as everything is so full of refugees already.
That word, itself, refugees, just seems so distant from anything I ever thought we, as Americans, would have to experience. I am not having to experience it myself, but I feel so much a sympathy and broken heart for those who are suffering in such a way. I guess perhaps it is arrogant to think that the word refugees is such a foreign concept, an alien one for Americans, but it is something that I am meditating on as to what this means for me, and others.
Again, I say, do not drown in the sense of despair, loss, helplessness, and even anger at some who knowingly stayed and "expected" to be rescued at the last minute. Rather, I am bouyed by the selflessness, spirit, courage, and tirelessness exhibited by the volunteers, and everyone involved in doing what they can as fast as they can to help everyone, not just in New Orleans, but in Biloxi, Gulf Port, and elsewhere.
It is discouraging to see nature's wrath vented so violently upon the places and people that our hearts are just aching for at this time. I pray that the strength of the volunteers will be reinforced and that the logistics involved in getting people out, and supplies in, will have their way smoothed and any barriers to such hopefully overcome as fast as possible, or removed.
I pray for those who have lost their lives, lost loved ones and friends, or are awaiting news from such that they are ok. I pray for those who must wait for that unfathomable news that their loved one did not make it.
I pray for all those displaced from their homes and businesses, and for those who have lost part, or all in most cases, of everything they had, who are now being rescued, or have been rescued, or are seeking or have found places of refuge.
I pray for those who have opened their hotels, facilities, and homes to those who have fled from the destruction, and I gain strength from the display of unity and human brotherhood that is being exemplified by those who are assisting in such a manner, and in other ways.
I pray for those who are looting, and for those who are looting because they feel they have, or may even have, no other way to protect themselves. For example, there was a lady caught by a news crew looting, from a shoe store I believe, and someone behind the view of the camera said, "You shouldn't be doing that." She responded, "I know, but if I don't, our feet will be cut by things beneath the water." Her, her family and the people with them had no shoes. I do not judge whether or not these people are right or wrong. It is not my place, and I can't even imagine being placed in a situation where that kind of choice would become necessary. And when it comes down to it, looting some shoes is perhaps the least of concerns, and the least of some of the horrible decisions and situations that are going on as a result of this disaster.
These things I watch, and learn from, and feel, and experience, at least in the small manner that I can, from the images that I see on the news. I know I cannot understand what it is like, but I rest myself in the hope that there is, that there can be; that hopefully as many lives can be saved, and people may find shelter, and that the Lord may be watching over and assisting in this huge effort of rescue, relief, and refuge.
I feel a sense of helplessness, against the scale of the disaster, the scope of what's needed, the desperateness of the situation, and the horrifying experiences that people are having to endure, who are in the midst of the aftermath.
I know it's natural to feel helpless when seeing such images of widespread destruction and suffering; the helplessness at the overwhelming power of nature. And so, knowing this, I am not drowning in it or sinking in it.
So many things have struck me, and entered into my heart in this national experience of disaster that I feel personally, as much as can be considering I was not touched physically by the Hurricane, but touched and deeply affected inside by what I feel as a citizen of this nation is an intense, sad, and desperate experience for all of us to see.
The volunteers, who are doing everything they can, and feel so helpless that they can't do more.
The 4 Navy ships on their way with food, fresh water, supplies, medicines, etc., that can't get there fast enough. The fierce and oh-so-urgent need for these things that the people NEED.
All the people who are still trapped in their attics, on their roofs, or other places.
The hospitals, where patients are or have been airlifted out, but in which alot of employees and their families are left behind in, as at least they aren't as urgently in need as those trapped in attics, or the SuperDome. I never thought I would see a day where people trapped in a hospital, surrounded by water, healthy though they all are, would be "a lesser priority". That in itself helps instill a sense of the scope of this destruction.
The SuperDome, where the air has become foul, sanitation facilities are overwhelmed, there is no food or water, the buses cannot get to because of the water surrounding it, the dome itself is open to the elements in places, and rival gang members inside are starting to cause trouble. Imagine the fear and desperateness and intense NEED that is present in such circumstances, and think even more upon any little ones, infirm, and/or elderly who may be trapped in such circumstances, or worse. The refugees need to be rescued from their refuge, and are to be bused to the Houston AstroDome, 350 miles away. It is the only thing big enough and close at hand in the area, as everything is so full of refugees already.
That word, itself, refugees, just seems so distant from anything I ever thought we, as Americans, would have to experience. I am not having to experience it myself, but I feel so much a sympathy and broken heart for those who are suffering in such a way. I guess perhaps it is arrogant to think that the word refugees is such a foreign concept, an alien one for Americans, but it is something that I am meditating on as to what this means for me, and others.
Again, I say, do not drown in the sense of despair, loss, helplessness, and even anger at some who knowingly stayed and "expected" to be rescued at the last minute. Rather, I am bouyed by the selflessness, spirit, courage, and tirelessness exhibited by the volunteers, and everyone involved in doing what they can as fast as they can to help everyone, not just in New Orleans, but in Biloxi, Gulf Port, and elsewhere.
It is discouraging to see nature's wrath vented so violently upon the places and people that our hearts are just aching for at this time. I pray that the strength of the volunteers will be reinforced and that the logistics involved in getting people out, and supplies in, will have their way smoothed and any barriers to such hopefully overcome as fast as possible, or removed.
I pray for those who have lost their lives, lost loved ones and friends, or are awaiting news from such that they are ok. I pray for those who must wait for that unfathomable news that their loved one did not make it.
I pray for all those displaced from their homes and businesses, and for those who have lost part, or all in most cases, of everything they had, who are now being rescued, or have been rescued, or are seeking or have found places of refuge.
I pray for those who have opened their hotels, facilities, and homes to those who have fled from the destruction, and I gain strength from the display of unity and human brotherhood that is being exemplified by those who are assisting in such a manner, and in other ways.
I pray for those who are looting, and for those who are looting because they feel they have, or may even have, no other way to protect themselves. For example, there was a lady caught by a news crew looting, from a shoe store I believe, and someone behind the view of the camera said, "You shouldn't be doing that." She responded, "I know, but if I don't, our feet will be cut by things beneath the water." Her, her family and the people with them had no shoes. I do not judge whether or not these people are right or wrong. It is not my place, and I can't even imagine being placed in a situation where that kind of choice would become necessary. And when it comes down to it, looting some shoes is perhaps the least of concerns, and the least of some of the horrible decisions and situations that are going on as a result of this disaster.
These things I watch, and learn from, and feel, and experience, at least in the small manner that I can, from the images that I see on the news. I know I cannot understand what it is like, but I rest myself in the hope that there is, that there can be; that hopefully as many lives can be saved, and people may find shelter, and that the Lord may be watching over and assisting in this huge effort of rescue, relief, and refuge.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Is what I am suffering from, real illnesses or not?
I have been told that they are, and biologically based. That it's a real, physical disease, like cancer or diabetes.
I would kind of liken my ability to function, to a cancer patient (a very survivable cancer, but with lots of rad/chemo etc therapies), who is going through chemo or some other debilitating treatment. Some days are good, some days or weeks are bad. And, sometimes, there are so many bad days or weeks in a month they cannot get anything done!
That is what it is like, in alot of ways, with my ability to function, or most often, NOT. Not very well.
If it is true that my illness is a real disease, as are cancer and diabetes, then that changes how others perceive or treat you. My illnesses being real diseases, isn't really the problem. Other people, even if they say they realize these things are real, physical illnesses, often-times treat you, when it comes to the ways in which you are not functioning or coping well with the ADL's, or Activities of Daily Life, as the doctors would put it, they seem to treat you kind of like it is all in your head, or that helping out in any manner that they wouldn't question to help out in for that hypothetical surviving cancer patient on chemo, who is having a really bad month.
The reality is, I would not ever feel as though I was entitled to certain help with daily activities or chores or whatnot; NEVER. But, when counseled by the Bishop to allow others the chance to serve, and be open to it, and when feeling prompted by the spirit to mention certain things (I do not, though, see being prompted by the spirit to = that they are obligated or expected or required to do it; I am open to the possibility that I am supposed to learn that certain things are not appropriate, or that I am supposed to learn something for my benefit from the exchange.), it is a bit confusing to sort out whether, in fact, I should behave as if my conditions are illnesses, or all in my head.
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing they are real illnesses, I tend to get some . . . you can't be serious reactions; some boy, she is really being . . . inappropriate? selfish? greedy? pathetic? lazy? out-of-bounds?
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing that all I need is more willpower to do these things I have so much difficulty with, or can't do at all, or only a few times a year, then they are much more comfortable and happy to interact with me, because they know I will not ask them anything or talk about my struggles coping with daily functioning, which would really take them out of their comfort zone, and would make them feel uncomfortable.
I am not trying to judge these people as bad, at all!! They are very kind women, and there are ways of doing certain things, and procedures, and all that, that I don't really know or understand.
I mention all of the above, to attempt to illustrate that even the best people, who acknowledge I am struggling with real illnesses, still have problems carrying that over into the way they handle things.
At the same time, to be VERY fair, they are not really sure at ALL how to handle interacting with me about my mental illnesses and what kind of help is appropriate, and what isn't. I understand that, because I do not know much about these illnesses myself yet, beyond the experiences I relate, but that I do not yet have a framework of knowledge with which to understand. So I understand this, and applaud them for being so kind, thoughtful, and understanding with me.
I felt strongly the need, though, to illustrate the struggle inside me as to the two perceptual ways, that affect ways of behaving, about my illnesses. I do NOT want to just sit back and say, I am disabled, so you people come help me. That is not me. At the same time, to come to accept that applying for disability was necessary, valid, and that I actually am disabled, in my ability to function, that it is not ME, but rather the illnesses that affect my abilities to cope with the world and everything in it, one has to come to a certain acknowledgement that you are struggling, and that it is NOT just about willpower.
I will go on at length probably, some other time, about accepting the need for Social Security Disability, and that I am, in fact, not able to work, or function well in even household matters, versus the need to always keep striving to improve (whilst not trying to improve more than little baby steps at a time (I love that movie, What About Bob!), work on things in therapy, and learn to function better. Therapy, and medication, is such a SLOW process though, it's gonna be a good long time before I'm "there". Wherever "there" is, but it's a desireable place, of higher functioning.
I hope I have not offended or hurt any of my friends. I was just trying to illustrate the different aspects of the problem floating around in my brain, and thought that the ideas I came up with would be illuminating for anyone trying to understand me, or the mentally ill, better.
I would kind of liken my ability to function, to a cancer patient (a very survivable cancer, but with lots of rad/chemo etc therapies), who is going through chemo or some other debilitating treatment. Some days are good, some days or weeks are bad. And, sometimes, there are so many bad days or weeks in a month they cannot get anything done!
That is what it is like, in alot of ways, with my ability to function, or most often, NOT. Not very well.
If it is true that my illness is a real disease, as are cancer and diabetes, then that changes how others perceive or treat you. My illnesses being real diseases, isn't really the problem. Other people, even if they say they realize these things are real, physical illnesses, often-times treat you, when it comes to the ways in which you are not functioning or coping well with the ADL's, or Activities of Daily Life, as the doctors would put it, they seem to treat you kind of like it is all in your head, or that helping out in any manner that they wouldn't question to help out in for that hypothetical surviving cancer patient on chemo, who is having a really bad month.
The reality is, I would not ever feel as though I was entitled to certain help with daily activities or chores or whatnot; NEVER. But, when counseled by the Bishop to allow others the chance to serve, and be open to it, and when feeling prompted by the spirit to mention certain things (I do not, though, see being prompted by the spirit to = that they are obligated or expected or required to do it; I am open to the possibility that I am supposed to learn that certain things are not appropriate, or that I am supposed to learn something for my benefit from the exchange.), it is a bit confusing to sort out whether, in fact, I should behave as if my conditions are illnesses, or all in my head.
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing they are real illnesses, I tend to get some . . . you can't be serious reactions; some boy, she is really being . . . inappropriate? selfish? greedy? pathetic? lazy? out-of-bounds?
When I interact with others, in the mode of believing that all I need is more willpower to do these things I have so much difficulty with, or can't do at all, or only a few times a year, then they are much more comfortable and happy to interact with me, because they know I will not ask them anything or talk about my struggles coping with daily functioning, which would really take them out of their comfort zone, and would make them feel uncomfortable.
I am not trying to judge these people as bad, at all!! They are very kind women, and there are ways of doing certain things, and procedures, and all that, that I don't really know or understand.
I mention all of the above, to attempt to illustrate that even the best people, who acknowledge I am struggling with real illnesses, still have problems carrying that over into the way they handle things.
At the same time, to be VERY fair, they are not really sure at ALL how to handle interacting with me about my mental illnesses and what kind of help is appropriate, and what isn't. I understand that, because I do not know much about these illnesses myself yet, beyond the experiences I relate, but that I do not yet have a framework of knowledge with which to understand. So I understand this, and applaud them for being so kind, thoughtful, and understanding with me.
I felt strongly the need, though, to illustrate the struggle inside me as to the two perceptual ways, that affect ways of behaving, about my illnesses. I do NOT want to just sit back and say, I am disabled, so you people come help me. That is not me. At the same time, to come to accept that applying for disability was necessary, valid, and that I actually am disabled, in my ability to function, that it is not ME, but rather the illnesses that affect my abilities to cope with the world and everything in it, one has to come to a certain acknowledgement that you are struggling, and that it is NOT just about willpower.
I will go on at length probably, some other time, about accepting the need for Social Security Disability, and that I am, in fact, not able to work, or function well in even household matters, versus the need to always keep striving to improve (whilst not trying to improve more than little baby steps at a time (I love that movie, What About Bob!), work on things in therapy, and learn to function better. Therapy, and medication, is such a SLOW process though, it's gonna be a good long time before I'm "there". Wherever "there" is, but it's a desireable place, of higher functioning.
I hope I have not offended or hurt any of my friends. I was just trying to illustrate the different aspects of the problem floating around in my brain, and thought that the ideas I came up with would be illuminating for anyone trying to understand me, or the mentally ill, better.
Often, in dealing with grief, you have to decide, what do you want to be?
Actor Crush of the Day: Bill Pullman (Independence Day or While You Were Sleeping)
(Note: My thoughts and prayers to anyone in Hurricane Katrina's path, or have already been through it. My hurricane allegory below is in no way meant to say that I am physically suffering in the way that those in hurricane regions are.)
This was a post on a blog I am linked to, Ethesis, and below was a comment I posted there about 2 1/2 weeks ago or so.
(Note: My thoughts and prayers to anyone in Hurricane Katrina's path, or have already been through it. My hurricane allegory below is in no way meant to say that I am physically suffering in the way that those in hurricane regions are.)
This was a post on a blog I am linked to, Ethesis, and below was a comment I posted there about 2 1/2 weeks ago or so.
This is a hard one. I haven't suffered the loss of a child or parent yet, and not to say that what I am about to talk about is in any way as deep or the same kind of thing, but I am going through a grief-like process as I begin therapy with a psychologist, and treatment from a psychiatrist, as I have been recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder and a variety of anxiety disorders, although they are still nailing those down, they are the working diagnoses at the moment.
I am 33 years old. And my daughter was recently diagnosed with high-functioning autism. And I can barely function, and somehow the Lord thinks I am the best mother for her? I actually do have faith in his faith in me, so that answers that question.
But having been mis-diagnosed with depression for so many years, I am grieving for the person I could have been. The chance at normal choices and normal experiences and a normal life that apparently I never had, because it seems that these things go back to childhood.
My very ability to choose, my judgement, is affected and swayed by my illnesses. Brain disorders, they call them. That could take me off into a whole other area of free agency/mentally ill and what all that means, but the point here is (and I have trouble being as concise and well-written as I used to be able to be, so bear with me), I have chosen to fight.
Though the struggle is hard, and I have no idea how to cope with my illnesses, let alone be able to mother my child and teach her and access services she needs, all I can do is try.
For me, it is though I am walking into the darkest hurricane you can imagine, facing it head on, and boldly striding towards the tempest, and knowing that all I can do is try. That is what I have chosen, as I have struggled this week with my own dark despair and whether or not to give up my option "to get out", as it were. I did, just so you know.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
An Excerpt From "An Unquiet Mind" by Kay Redfield Jamison
Actor Crush of the Day: Tom Selleck (Three Men & A Baby age)
The following I think to be a rather illustrative passage from this book, as it describes the sort of inner workings of my mind and certain types of behavior that really fit me, in certain manic states. The author is both bipolar and a psychologist, and her illness includes hallucinations and psychotic features, whereas mine does not. I am not comfortable with the term madness, as I do not experience those extreme features, but with that said, read the following:
The following I think to be a rather illustrative passage from this book, as it describes the sort of inner workings of my mind and certain types of behavior that really fit me, in certain manic states. The author is both bipolar and a psychologist, and her illness includes hallucinations and psychotic features, whereas mine does not. I am not comfortable with the term madness, as I do not experience those extreme features, but with that said, read the following:
My mind was beginning to have to scramble a bit to keep up with itself, as ideas were coming so fast that they intersected one another at every concievable angle. There was a neuronal pileup on the highways of my brain, and the more I tried to slow down my thinking the more I became aware that I couldn't. My enthusiasms were going into overdrive as well, although there often was some underlying thread of logic in what I was doing. One day, for example, I got into a frenzy of photocopying: I made thirty to forty copies of a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay, an article about religion and psychosis from the American Journal of Psychiatry, and another article, "Why I Do Not Attend Case Conferences," written by a prominent psychologist who had elucidated all of the reasons why teaching rounds, when poorly conducted, are such a horrendous waste of time. All three of these articles seemed to me, quite suddenly, to have profound meaning and relevance for the clinical staff on the ward. So I passed them out to everyone I could.
What is interesting to me now is not that I did such a typically manic thing; rather, it's that there was some prescience and sense in those early days of incipient madness. The ward rounds were a complete waste of time, although the ward chief was less than appreciative of my pointing it out to everyone (and even less appreciative of my circulating the article to the entire staff).
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Medication Sucks; Or "Why I Regret Forgetting Last Night's Effexor Dose"
Actor Crush of the Day: George Clooney
Ugh. I'm tempted to just leave that one word as today's whole post, because it sums it up perfectly.
You know, alot of people think the mentally ill, especially bipolar and schizophrenics, are, quite frankly, stupid, for how often they end up deciding to stop take their medications.
Let me tell you, it is most certainly not cut and dried. Let me also reassure you that I intend on taking mine, although I am becoming weary of the side effects, and I'm not quite yet even on a mood stabilizer.
I am surprised that I am able to be so coherent in my current state, and would ask for your patience if I become less so.
I have never been drunk, but from seeing it in the popular media, I would describe what I am currently feeling like as being medium-lightly drunk, and horriblty hung-over, all at the same time.
I keep a sleeping mask on my eyes, and have to replace it if I'm without it for half an hour or so, as the light hurts my eyes.
My head is in MAJOR pain, but in a not normal-headache kind of way. Not migraine-like either, it's very different. And it feels like the whole inside of my head hurts, especially a spot a few inches down insude, about 3-4 inches up from the front hairline.
My head feels both light and heavy and the same time. As do my limbs.
I feel very clumsy, and rather detached and spacey. My sense of balance is way off, and I plan on spending most of the day horizontally resting. I have some concern that that may make my headache and balance worse, as it does when you oversleep way too much, but I'm rather ill so there we go.
Dinner for Emily will be either cereal or a zapped can of soup and some canned fruit, as that's about as far as I can manage. In that regard, it's similar to my worst days of low-functioning.
Not sure about eating, myself. I have eaten one thing, and it's staying down, so I guess we'll cautiously attempt something small later. But the prospect just does not appeal to me. It doesn't put me off much either, it's just not a concept that fits well with how I feel today.
I am tired in a really disconnected, kind of "woop-de-doo" kind of way.
I am not really describing it as effectively as I'd like, but then I'm surprised I'm able to form even somewhat-expressive sentences at all right now.
I didn't mean to really give a "travelogue" of my symptoms, but rather meant to illustrate some of the difficulties I face in the realm of medications and their side effects.
The horribly, realer-than-real, more-vivid-than-you-can-imagine series of nightmares and dreams I've had the last several nights in a row, and very frequently, increasingly so, over the last few months, are beginning to make me a bit leery of sleep. And, perhaps, causing me to feel lest rested, due to every sleeping moment becoming consumed in intensely-felt experiences. I am so weary of these. Although I do happen to like the occasional vivid REALLY HAPPY AND FUN dreams. Those are cool.
Anyway, i'm not even on what I think of as the heavy-hitting meds yet (mood stabilizers, and/or anti-psychotics (you don't have to be psychotic for the latter medicines to be of help; they are sometimes used for just depression, as well as bipolar without psychotic features, and a whole range of other things). And I am so tired of the side effects.
Just a picture into my world, so perhaps people might not be so judgemental of the mentally ill and their struggles with balancing medications.
Ugh. I'm tempted to just leave that one word as today's whole post, because it sums it up perfectly.
You know, alot of people think the mentally ill, especially bipolar and schizophrenics, are, quite frankly, stupid, for how often they end up deciding to stop take their medications.
Let me tell you, it is most certainly not cut and dried. Let me also reassure you that I intend on taking mine, although I am becoming weary of the side effects, and I'm not quite yet even on a mood stabilizer.
I am surprised that I am able to be so coherent in my current state, and would ask for your patience if I become less so.
I have never been drunk, but from seeing it in the popular media, I would describe what I am currently feeling like as being medium-lightly drunk, and horriblty hung-over, all at the same time.
I keep a sleeping mask on my eyes, and have to replace it if I'm without it for half an hour or so, as the light hurts my eyes.
My head is in MAJOR pain, but in a not normal-headache kind of way. Not migraine-like either, it's very different. And it feels like the whole inside of my head hurts, especially a spot a few inches down insude, about 3-4 inches up from the front hairline.
My head feels both light and heavy and the same time. As do my limbs.
I feel very clumsy, and rather detached and spacey. My sense of balance is way off, and I plan on spending most of the day horizontally resting. I have some concern that that may make my headache and balance worse, as it does when you oversleep way too much, but I'm rather ill so there we go.
Dinner for Emily will be either cereal or a zapped can of soup and some canned fruit, as that's about as far as I can manage. In that regard, it's similar to my worst days of low-functioning.
Not sure about eating, myself. I have eaten one thing, and it's staying down, so I guess we'll cautiously attempt something small later. But the prospect just does not appeal to me. It doesn't put me off much either, it's just not a concept that fits well with how I feel today.
I am tired in a really disconnected, kind of "woop-de-doo" kind of way.
I am not really describing it as effectively as I'd like, but then I'm surprised I'm able to form even somewhat-expressive sentences at all right now.
I didn't mean to really give a "travelogue" of my symptoms, but rather meant to illustrate some of the difficulties I face in the realm of medications and their side effects.
The horribly, realer-than-real, more-vivid-than-you-can-imagine series of nightmares and dreams I've had the last several nights in a row, and very frequently, increasingly so, over the last few months, are beginning to make me a bit leery of sleep. And, perhaps, causing me to feel lest rested, due to every sleeping moment becoming consumed in intensely-felt experiences. I am so weary of these. Although I do happen to like the occasional vivid REALLY HAPPY AND FUN dreams. Those are cool.
Anyway, i'm not even on what I think of as the heavy-hitting meds yet (mood stabilizers, and/or anti-psychotics (you don't have to be psychotic for the latter medicines to be of help; they are sometimes used for just depression, as well as bipolar without psychotic features, and a whole range of other things). And I am so tired of the side effects.
Just a picture into my world, so perhaps people might not be so judgemental of the mentally ill and their struggles with balancing medications.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Whatever Happened To Galoshes?
Actor Crush of the Day: Michael Rosenbaum
With the start of school, my mind has drifted back to some of my earliest school memories.
I believe I was in Kindergarten, and I remember vividly a fall field trip to an apple orchard and pumpkin patch. It had rained the day before or so, or that morning, and so we all pulled our galoshes on over our shoes.
My pair was robin's egg blue, with Winnie the Pooh on the sides. I don't know why I remember these galoshes so vividly, but I remember absolutely loving them, and clomping around in them with childish glee. My imagination was sparked and captivated by them somehow, and I believe at times that I pretended they were moon boots, and that I was traipsing across the lunar landscape in them, Winnie the Pooh and all.
I wistfully remember that field trip, and meandering throughout the fruitfully scented breeze in the orchard, the fall freshness in the air, with patches of sunlight dappling the ground beneath the trees. I hopped myself and my proudly worn galoshes into a puddle or two, but was quickly discouraged from further mischief by the Kindergarten Teacher, Mrs. Matthews.
I do not remember if the pumpkin patch was next to the orchard or if we took a short bus hop to get there, but I remember seeing a whole "mess of pumpkins" tumbled about the area, and marveling at the sight of so many in one place. I remember thinking, and almost smelling the delightful scent as I pondered, that my dad could turn all those pumpkins into a year's worth of pies! I then considered all the yummy possibilities inherent in the quantity of pumpkin seeds that the field contained, as we had enjoyed a delectable preparation of them earlier in the week in class.
I do not remember much more about that day, but the sights, smells, sounds, and tastes, particularly of the fresh, crisp apples we were presented, remain with me to this day. And, of course, the rubberly smell and sensation of wonder I associated with my fondly remembered Winnie the Pooh galoshes.
With the start of school, my mind has drifted back to some of my earliest school memories.
I believe I was in Kindergarten, and I remember vividly a fall field trip to an apple orchard and pumpkin patch. It had rained the day before or so, or that morning, and so we all pulled our galoshes on over our shoes.
My pair was robin's egg blue, with Winnie the Pooh on the sides. I don't know why I remember these galoshes so vividly, but I remember absolutely loving them, and clomping around in them with childish glee. My imagination was sparked and captivated by them somehow, and I believe at times that I pretended they were moon boots, and that I was traipsing across the lunar landscape in them, Winnie the Pooh and all.
I wistfully remember that field trip, and meandering throughout the fruitfully scented breeze in the orchard, the fall freshness in the air, with patches of sunlight dappling the ground beneath the trees. I hopped myself and my proudly worn galoshes into a puddle or two, but was quickly discouraged from further mischief by the Kindergarten Teacher, Mrs. Matthews.
I do not remember if the pumpkin patch was next to the orchard or if we took a short bus hop to get there, but I remember seeing a whole "mess of pumpkins" tumbled about the area, and marveling at the sight of so many in one place. I remember thinking, and almost smelling the delightful scent as I pondered, that my dad could turn all those pumpkins into a year's worth of pies! I then considered all the yummy possibilities inherent in the quantity of pumpkin seeds that the field contained, as we had enjoyed a delectable preparation of them earlier in the week in class.
I do not remember much more about that day, but the sights, smells, sounds, and tastes, particularly of the fresh, crisp apples we were presented, remain with me to this day. And, of course, the rubberly smell and sensation of wonder I associated with my fondly remembered Winnie the Pooh galoshes.
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