bipolar · dating · Life · Meds

Nothing serious.

Where to go with the subject of sex? I won’t delve too deep. With BiPolar it can go one way or the other. Hot or cold or maddening.

I have been hypersexual. That’s when I lock myself inside. Ideas come to mind and safety goes out of the window. Hypersexual for me is when your libido just can’t be satiated. And experimentation takes over.

I’ve been very lucky and mindful when it comes to that phase of BiPolar. When your libido is in control and your heart has very little to do with it. Simply, you can ruin your life or end it.

Medication can make things run so cold you forget you have reproductive organs. And it doesn’t bother you much. Unless you’re married or involved. A lot of people don’t take meds because it can kill your sex life.

There are some which increase the desire and others which keep things the same.

Your mileage may vary.

My new med has awakened me once again. A bit of a dilemma seeing that I’m alone. I manage.

I said I wouldn’t delve too deep. So I’ll end it here. I have issues with sex. I would need someone who understands and can work with me through the phases. Not easy to find.

As I said before, I see myself as a spinster. I won’t resign myself to be with someone simply to say I have someone. I want love, I’ve been through too much in my life to settle for less.

I’m a work in progress. It may have been a late start at least it has started.



Life · lyrics and music · mental health · relationships · Self Image

Both Sides…

Knocked back by a cold for a few days. I must admit once you start walking daily its hard to stop. Even while I was sick I just wanted to walk and be out in the air. I did go out. Bundled up while taking short walks and napping once I got home. I was exhausted, but I just NEEDED to walk.

Mentally things are fine. Physically things are fine. Emotionally things are confused.

Trying to figure out what I want in life. Do I want to remain alone? I had resigned myself to being a spinster. That sister/daughter who never married or had children.

At first, the thought made me sad. But there’s a freedom to being alone and a loneliness. It’s the emptiness that kills you. When you want to talk to someone and no one is there. So you pick up the phone and everyone is busy with their family and work.

So what do you do? Where do you go when life is just YOU and it’s not enough.

Do you rush into a relationship just to have someone? Or rekindle an old flame in hopes it stays lit this time. Knowing there was a reason it failed in the first place. But it’s better than the hollow feeling in your chest. Maybe.

I figure I’ll be alone. Not because I’m damaged goods like I used to think. My mental illness doesn’t mean I’ll never find love. Nor am I damaged because of it. If there is someone out there for me or not… I’ll survive.

I had a love. A possibility of having a life with someone who loved me. Or I thought I did. God had other plans and I thank him/her for it.

I realized that when I wrote to him that I was not able to have children and he didn’t want me anymore. All those feelings and empty promises were just that, empty. If I couldn’t breed I was useless. He’s the one who’s useless.

I could get angry. I could hate. Instead, I’ve been spared. Thank you, Lord. He didn’t truly love me. If he did, I wouldn’t be writing this post. A woman’s not a breeding machine. I would have loved to have a child. It just wasn’t meant to be. So be it.

If I find someone who wants this whole beautiful package, we’ll adopt a child or two.

Wow, I called myself beautiful. I’ve never done that before in my life. It’s not a physical beautiful I’m writing about it’s everything I have to offer to a true love. I guess I’m a romantic. Everything I have to offer as a person is what makes this beauty. It’s a fifty-year long journey.

I’m listening to the song, “Both sides now.” by Joni Mitchell

I guess that’s what this post is about. Looking at things from both sides and realizing you really don’t know what you thought you knew.

Age brings a wisdom and acceptance which youth can never fathom.

I’m glad I’m still here.

Life · mental health


Positivity is something that is new to me. I have grown up with nothing but negativity in my mind and in my life. No wishes just dreams and reality. When you are poor. You don’t expect the best to come. You don’t expect to win. You hope to make it to the next day.

Our parents begin to feed us negative thoughts at an early age. They may want the best for us which is the step up from where they were, but big dreams are just that. Dreams. So the negative song plays for years in your head and it takes years of therapy until you can finally say “Yes, it could happen.”

Each day I wake up with what I am going to do that day in my head and by completing it, no matter how small. It is a positive thing.

Positive people help keep negativity at bay. Negativity breeds hardship. Positivity creates hope.




It’s cold today  which is cool since it’s autumn. Can’t wait for the trees to change color. Hoping to get some good pictures. I’m stuck in bed with a cold. Gotta be careful cause it easily can turn to pneumonia. That’s how I roll.

Snuck out for a walk. I say snuck cause I got yelled at yesterday by my mother and bestie for my long walk with this cold. Eighty year old mother grounded her fifty-one year old daughter. Saw how long that lasted…

I know they’re right. So I’m in the bed until I go see Halloween. The new and last one. I love scary movies.

Bored, yet stable. I’ll take it.

But I realllllllly wanna go for a walk.

Life · mental health · Thoughts

I love my bed. I love to dream

I try to stay out of bed during the daytime. No TV in the bedroom. Just a stereo, books and furniture. Oh yeah and my bed. My wonderful, firm/soft mattress and fluffy pillows all for me.

I love my bed because I love to sleep. Perchance to DREAM. Dreaming is the most incredible experience when you think of it. Sometimes you get the weird ones or occasional nightmares. The majority of times I get great adventures and dreams of those who have passed dropping in to say hello and they love me. Those are the best.

Then there are my Indiana Jones dreams. Lifelike adventures complete with battles against the bad guy. Those dreams are so realistic I hate to wake up.

There was a time my bed was a retreat from the world. Nineteen hours of sleep and not a dream to be had. That was over twenty years ago. There are times I want to retreat to the bed again. I fight it. Distract and live life.

For the first time in many years, I feel alive again. Clear and ready to do things I haven’t done before. I am so thankful.


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.

Life · Meds · mental health · mental illness · Thoughts

Random Thoughts

I think I’ve written about this before. Maybe years ago. For me risks must be taken in order for things to improve in my life.

If you don’t take risks, nothing happens. Nothing happens if you don’t take risks. I can stay compliant in my life and die of old age never knowing if I reached my full potential. Never knowing if there was more out there for me if I only took a chance and took a risk.

Two things. Full potential. What if this is as good as it gets? Negative thinking or reality check? I don’t know.

The second is that these risks need to be positive. They can’t hurt anyone else or myself. Nothing illegal or immoral. These are my rules. Others mileage may vary.

I put myself out there on Instagram and here in two blogs. I write about my illness without holding back. Will this boomerang on me? I really don’t know.

I have other writings that I am working on and THEY are my major risks. Rejection and judgement. Judgement is a major trigger for me. I don’t judge others and I feel that no one should judge someone else. What makes them so superior that they can set the bar as to what’s acceptable or what the norm should be?

That’s my judgement rant.

In the past my major risks concerned medication. If I didn’t try and find the right one I would be stuck in an existence I was not happy with and nothing would change. Luckily by the time one med stopped working for me there was another one which could take it’s place.

I hate the big pharmaceutical companies because of the prices they charge for life saving meds are highway robbery. I don’t hate my meds. I don’t love them either. It just is. Nothing I can do about it. Tried living without but I can’t. I’m happy for those who can go through life without meds. Hate when they give me the whole “Poison” speech. Like duh, I know.

Meds to me are like insulin to a diabetic. Without there is no life.

I have an illness. I treat it. The end.