anxiety · Meds · Poetry · Thoughts

What does today bring me?

(free thoughts)

Took a miserable nap

It didn’t

do much good

Spent a miserable hour

eating chips and drinking tea

Such turmoil and hatred

flung like nets set to catch something desired

muck covered and ragged

I watch this day become a mishappen whore

Despite it’s appearance

It is still desired

SUN GO DOWN

Forget the past events

the turmoil and anger

The words flung and volcanos erupting

Everyone feels they have the right to voice their opinion

In a free country it’s everyday

Just not at the expence of others

Do no harm

It’s been a rats nest of death, hatred, barbed words and filth

Clean it up!

DIH 11/12/2018

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anxiety · bipolar · empathic · relationships · symptoms

When your heart pulls you

Ever have that feeling that there was a tugging on your soul/being/heart? Whenever you saw this person or heard their voice or saw something they’ve created. It touched you. You felt tied to that person. You had feelings and concern for that person and yet you’ve never met them in real life.

The internet can be deceiving. There are trolls and creepy people out there whose only desire is to satisfy some NEED they may possess. You have to develop some type of radar to stay away from these traps.

I met my best friend on the internet. Somehow we just clicked and it felt like we knew each other whole lives.

I’ve got that feeling for someone. It’s hard to live with because I have to filter everything through my illness. Do reality checks and just stay positive about existing. I’m a work in progress and it’s going well. I can handle things with more confidence than before and my self-image is higher than it’s ever been in my life.

I’m accepting “me.” Trying to live in the moment. Keeping my stability. Taking care of loved ones. These are priorities. This heart pull. These feelings. I don’t know what to do with them. He’s on my mind daily and he doesn’t know who I am.

I’d say it’s a symptom of the BiPolar. It’s never manifested itself in this manner. My body reacts with an increased heartbeat and that feeling of attachment. I believe in soulmates. I also know that I am sick. So I’m confused.

Maybe I need some internet downtime. I don’t know if these feelings will ever go away.

I’m not going to stalk him or do something drastic. My stability is sound, although what I wrote above sounds insane. But I feel him.

Like a group of moody clouds over the ocean. Whatever happens, after I publish this, I’ll be able to tell if it’s symptoms of my illness or some empathic tie to another soul.

anxiety · depression · Meds · mental health · mental illness

Lesson One

Just like the song that speaks of ‘false confidence.’ I fell into it last night. Like an idiot, I missed my night meds and am up crying and listening to Patsy Cline. My go-to for depression.

It wasn’t until I FINALLY pulled myself out of bed that I realized last nights meds waving at me. Doh!

So many of us hiding behind masks. So many of us who couldn’t function without meds for whatever the reason. Migraines, depression, Insomnia, Anxiety, blah blah blah.

I am not in a good place. I’m safe but feeling rather shitty towards people in general. So I’ll stay off Social Media. Stay indoors etc. Which is cool cause it’s getting cold here. Canceled everything and put on my wireless headphones and am currently worshipping at the Alanis Morrissette Temple. That’s what the playlist is called.

The first song played is the one my ex-best friend and I shared. Tears, anger, self-hatred. That was me, not the song. I’m good with low-self-esteem and self-hatred. Majored in them both at the same time. Aced them both. Thanks for that mind fuck Dad. All mental abuse folks. What gets me is that they are ‘supposedly’ unaware of the damage they do to you and how it lingers. Whoever ‘they’ are in your life.

Every time you feel like you’ve got the hold of it and you can move forward with your life.  Stress or life will screw you over and you’re on the bottom step again. Finnegan Begin-again.

Faking it until I’m making it today. I’m not manic. Just depressed, I’m used to that so I can handle this shit. Pseudo-making it? Is that a word?

It’s cold in here now so I’ll wrap this up. Take your vitamins kiddies and eat your Wheaties. In other words, don’t miss a mother fucking dose of meds if you can help it. It’ll come back to bite your ass off and make you type lots of curse words.

anxiety · bipolar · Life · mental illness · social anxiety · Stigma

Alice at the tea party

There are many times I have used this reference. Usually when I was feeling like everyone around me was mad as the hatter and I was the only sane one. Funny thing is it was my anxiety reacting to my surroundings.

Too much noise. Too crowded. Other people enjoying themselves boisterously. Not feeling like I was supposed to be in the presence of others. The tea party left me feeling overstimulated and I shut down. Closed myself up and walked away or closed my eyes and wished I were someplace else.

My social anxiety was in full swing tonight. There were many times I was about to bolt and just go home. I NEEDED to go home. Home is safety and sanity and my own creation. Out there is some wild shit.

I did enjoy myself tonight. The company of two people helped me hold it together.

I was at a Drop-in for people with mental illness and there were various types of people with different diagnoses. Party type atmosphere with people feeling secure enough that they did not wear the masks they wear out in public.

It wasn’t mayhem or an old movie scene of an asylum. People were simply enjoying themselves without being judged. The problem was Alice (me) and her anxiety.

It’s not that I felt superior to the others at the table. Many had more degrees and were more intelligent than I. Mental illness will rob you of that sometimes. And you need to remind yourself of the accomplishments of the past. Or present.

I’m high functioning. To see me, talk to me or just be around me. You would think I had my ducks in a row and my shit was all together.

I’ve sat through conversations with people who judged and bad mouthed the mentally ill. I immediately corrected them about their one-sided observation without telling them I was BiPolar.

It’s none of their business. BiPolar isn’t who I am so why introduce my diagnosis into the conversation. I felt if I had they would think ‘oh, she’s one of them and that’s why she’s correcting us.’ Coming from someone who they considered to be ‘put together’ I felt at the moment the lack of personal information gave more credibility to my argument.

I’ve told people I was BiPolar and watched them walk out of my life. For that reason alone. There were no incidents. Just fear on their part. It didn’t matter that they knew me for many years. All of a sudden I became something to fear. I had magically changed into a STIGMA and not a person.

There was nothing wrong with tonight’s Drop-in. As I said, the problem was Alice or rather me. Overwhelmed. Tired and closed down Me.

Closing down is a defense mechanism. Close your eyes, block out the noise and fall silent. Shut down and regroup. Leave the tea party.

I sit here now with insomnia. Typing away and needing to sleep. It’s almost one a.m. and I’ve been up since five a.m. yesterday. I’m hoping that blogging will clear my mind and ease me into a relaxed state.

There will always be times I feel like Alice. I realize this and accept it.

It doesn’t have to be a room of people who have mental illness to make me feel this way. It’s happened at the most in opportune times. With ‘normal’ people. I would feel the room spin and the walls close in and there was just TOO much going on for my senses to handle. I couldn’t leave. Overwhelmed and stressed, I close down.

I get quiet. Politely nod my head and eek out a thank you or whatever is called for at the moment. Fight the intense urge to flee the whole situation and desire to run home. Sometimes you can’t.

Anxiety. Social anxiety. One is bad enough without the other.

anxiety · bipolar · depression · Life · Poetry

Empty Mornings – A Poem

Waking up

Opening eyes

Dry mouth and sore thighs

The chairs are barren

The table set

The dishes washed

I never leave a mess

No one ever calls

But just in case

The apartment is clean as gallery walls

Silent Sundays

Still Friday nights

Saturday is for television

And Popcorn for one

Things become familiar

Medication routine

Waiting for it all to kick in

So I can function once again.

Searching for the meaning of this emotional state

Popping a pill to quell the anxiety

Eating chocolate to satiate

Not knowing what I want

Not knowing what I need

Just knowing there is emptiness

If it stopped suddenly

I would find it all peculiar

Living so long like this makes living without impossible

And Saturday’s are for television

And Popcorn for one.

DIH – 9/26/18

anxiety · bipolar · mental health · mental illness · Self Image · Thankfulness · Thoughts

Morning Walks

 

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My morning walks are helping my moods. It lifts my spirits and allows me to clear my mind of negative thoughts and things I have to do for the day. They reduce my anxiety and that is the main thing.

Although I did have two in a row after coming back from one recently. Triggers and timing are all I have to say about that incident.

I believe I am stable which is a good place. I’m feeling so much better about myself and am taking steps to improve my self-esteem.  Things just don’t seem to bother me as much. I have my fears and doubts and a full range of emotions. Just like everyone else.

I can control somethings in my life and accept that there are things which are out of my control. I’m not a control freak, never have been. In the whole circle of things, I need to remind myself that others will believe what they will and do what they do, no matter what you advise.

I can’t save the world. And I don’t think I want that responsibility either. I can make changes in my life and hopefully advise positively to my friends. I can raise my voice to things I support. Help when I can and provide random acts of kindness without expecting anything in return. I love doing this the most. 🙂

There are a few things I want to do that are simple and will provide me with joy. Nothing serious, just little goals which make me happy. I like taking pictures with my phone, posting on Instagram or just scrolling through others pictures of nature. I’m trying to keep things simple as possible, that’s when I function at my best.

When you’ve got a three-year-old running through the apartment above your head you thank God for headphone.

“Just Hold Me Like Johnny Cash.” – Lenny Kravitz is a beautiful song I think I will hold in my heart forever. It’s off his new album “Raise Vibration.” Required listening.

My mother is still alive. There’s a loneliness to the song for me. Being alone. Always wondering if and when someone will come into my life. Wondering if I’m cursed to die alone. I think that’s my biggest fear.

 

anxiety · bipolar · Meds · mental health · mental illness

The other side of the temporary

 

s-l300

 

**I’ve just realized I’ve been going through this shit since March! It started in November 2017 and peaked in March when Latuda quit on me. Crazy, no?**

I have always respected others decisions to take or not take medication for whatever their diagnoses. I have tried doing without medication for my BiPolar etc. I’m just one of the many who need meds to function in a stable state of mind.

I’m stable and am so thankful every day. I look forward to actually DOING things. I haven’t been like this in years.

I’m more positive without being a Pollyanna. I still have my dark side and morbid sense of humor, sarcastic streak etc. Binging on Penny Dreadful has been so refreshing for me. Something that has EVERYTHING I love about that genre. So well written and acted.

I still love TWD and gonna catch up on FTWD. So much TV, so little time.

I got rid of cable and find myself getting more things done. Kinda. Just finding new things to occupy my time. Pokemon Go might be a new addiction. At least I get to walk more 🙂

Instagram is also something I’m doing. Positive posts about mental health and life. Sometimes concentrating on mental illness can be depressing. I like saying mental health. Yes, it’s an illness that you can’t fix. At least we can treat the symptoms.

I’ve taken some pictures on my phone and some are good. I like nature shots and odd things. Not into portraits or food or thousands of selfies. I still have the self-hatred shit to deal with, but I’m making progress.

Did a lot of walking this morning. So tired. It’s hot. ugh.

Family drama. As usual, but I’m keeping my distance. Dyed my hair. Not the color I wanted. It’s a nice black with blue highlights. Not brave enough for the full purple locs yet. LOL.

Discovered what an incredible photographer Julian Lennon is @julespicturepalace on Instagram. Each photo moves me and inspires me like true art should. This is the way I feel about Van Gogh and Sondheim and Motzart. My soul sways and I’m floating at the beauty. It’s been a long time since something has moved me like that. I love the cloud photos and the water with the blues he plays with and the landscapes. I’m partial to his B&W shots too. I love B&W photography with the shadows and the pure stark reality. Can’t hide in candy colors. I respect that.

I don’t know names of painting or movements in music. But I know what I like. I love his work.

Haven’t been able to truly write for months. With the med changes, I could barely make posts here. I was just starting to learn Italian when it all hit. Have to go back to lesson one. 😦  I’m not giving up though.

Hopefully, that will change. My friend was editing some of my stuff until she had an operation. Have to send a Marco Polo her and see how she’s doing.

Ciao