I’ve started writing this blog post about fifty-eleven times. I am so agitated that I abruptly close Word, dammit! YES I want to write, NO I do NOT! I have a craving for the creative – but none of my available outlets are satisfying to me. Dammit! I bought a tie-dye kit, but the t-shirts I ordered from Amazon won’t be here until next week. Dammit! I want to do it NOW! I’m thinking about going to Target and buying some men’s v-neck tees so that I can do some now. I like those v-necks. But what size am I now? Dammit! I don’t know. Better go XL. But if they’re too big? My boobs won’t look good. Dammit! Do ya see a little glimmer of the agitation I’m feeling? Oh yeah and I have therapy today. Dammit! I don’t want to go to therapy. I don’t want to talk about feeling agitated, scared, and out of sorts. I don’t want to BE these things, Dammit! Maybe I just need to get out and get some exercise. Which is yet another thing I don’t want to do. Dammit! I wish I could just go back to bed, dammit. Is there a pill for the Dammits?
I think the therapist should have paid me today. It was all good news! I’m going to Florida! Yeaaahhhh! I got a health club membership!! Booyah!! I figured out the prescription dilemma! Kickassss!! I got health insurance!!! Supercalifragilous!!!! Now if you don’t have a therapist who says stuff like “kickass, booyah and supercalifragilous”, I suggest you fire him/her immediately and hire ME because I have become a PRO at creating fictional, but very supportive, therapist talk!
At this point in my bipolar career I consider myself to have an honorary PhD, considering I have been in therapy on and off for the better part of … hmmm… let’s just say a lot of fucking years. That doesn’t sound as bad as the real number. So, the new title of this blog is Bipolaronfire, PhD. The doctor is IN! I can speak therapy, ECT, medication, French, and I can curse in Spanish. That’s what you call well-rounded in the educated world. Also, I can fix your fucking computer while I do all that. But I will be an asshole as I do it, because I hate customer service. Total burnout. So there’s that.
My Mom thinks I should be a teacher as my next career, but I’m not doing anything where I can’t be an asshole some of the time, because that’s just the nature of bipolar disorder. Sometimes I’m sweet, and sometimes I am fucking sour. Ask anyone in my family, they’ll tell you! “She has such a big heart!” one person will say. “She is such a big bitch!” another will say. And they’re both right. So, I’ll be a therapist. On those sour days, I’ll just be silent. You know, fuck with their heads. Make them do all the work. Wait a minute! Maybe I should be a psychiatrist!!! This is going to take some more pondering. In the meantime I guess I’ll go watch Cops. Don’t act like you don’t have a totally trashy guilty pleasure tv show you’re workin’ undercover! C’mon…you can tell me.
Peach to the outs, homes!!!
Oh! Oh my! This one is a side-splitter!! That Bipolaronfire sure is one hell of a smart ass!! It’s good to see that two and a half years ago, just out of the looney bin, I was kicking ass and taking names. It’s always important to keep those “Mental Health Professionals” on their toes. Let’s make this a great day, people! Go for the belly laugh.
One of the tricks that I remember from my old AA days is Gratitude. Those recovering alcoholics really know how to mine gratitude and how to use it to their advantage. It’s easy how I forget what works, and fall into the shits. Today has been one of those days. Actually, this has been one of those years. Decades. Allright, allright, I’m being grandiose! I’m the shittiest bipolar, ever! Ha! I beat you! I’m shittier than YOU! YEAH! No. That’s not what this is about. This is about gratitude. STFU, ego. At lunch today, I put together a little attitude adjustment, and all it took was a little teensy weensy gratitude list. I didn’t even have to write it down. I just told my dear friend Chris, who kindly tolerates the nickname Crispy Fries. I told Crispy Fries everything I’m grateful for. And ya know what? I FEEL BETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My mood is lighter!! Yeah! Just like that!! No drugs!! Didn’t cost me a thing!! A little gratitude can go a long way. I am going to practice gratitude this week. My new antidepressant, GRATITUDE.
I don’t know if I told you that I’m in love with my camera? I don’t know jack shit about photography and when I say I don’t know jack shit I mean I. Don’t. Know. SHIT! But I LOVE IT!!!!!!! I don’t know why I don’t take a class, maybe it’s because I’m Bipolar ADD (Hi! My name is Bipolar ADD!) and my shit just don’t come together? I don’t know. I’m changing the title of this post to “I don’t know.” It’s getting obnoxious. ANYWAYS! I just got a macro lens and I am playing with it! I love how it makes everything look beautiful…..See?
Well I fell for it again. One of my friends told me about the site where she met her husband and I got all misty eyed and gushy inside and said awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww I gotta try it! So I post a pic & write fifteen words or so and I start getting matches! Well whaddya know they all look like motorcycle murderers! I swear to Jeezy this shit ain’t for me! Now every time I get a match, instead of thinking “Hey! Maybe this is The One!” I am thinking “What the hell does HE want?” and I’m just SURE he’s up to no good and he does NOT see me for who I really am! I think I might need to go back to just being friends with guys who in meet in the real life…and see where it goes from there. This paranoia thing is a beeyatch! Sweet & Sour Bipolar Over & Out!
I have such a hard time being in the moment when it’s winter. I don’t like winter! I’m a Spring & Summer gal, having grown up in the semi-arid desert of the San Joaquin Valley of California. But, living in reality, in the now, I live in Boulder, Colorado, and we have winter! Today we are having one hell of a blizzard. I am experiencing it in all its glory. So I bring you….Snowy Buddha! I am enjoying watching the blowing, blustery snow outside my windows as I sit inside my cozy warm house, grateful for a hot, spicy, hearty breakfast, and the hot coffee whose delicious aroma nearly brought me to my knees this morning, it smelled so good! Sometimes life is just so acute, so real, so THERE, it can be so satisfying! I am grateful. I will have a good, quiet, putzing day at home, absolutely no reason to leave the house, nothing I must do but only what brings me pleasure. And no I don’t mean masturbation. Ok well maybe later!
I think I’ve been on a bit of a negativity binge. Everything that happens at my job pisses me off. Everything that happens there proves me right. See?? This place IS dysfunctional!! Ok for sure the place does work people into the ground. But! They gave me a job and they give me an awfully nice paycheck every two weeks. If I don’t like it I can quit, right? Oh lawdy jeez methinks I might need to remove the shit-colored glasses… and just when I was really gettin’ cookin!
My first clue as I sat at my desk today looking out my precious window (where I can watch a juvenile hawk come and dive-bomb the little birds) was that I tried to think of what to be grateful for, and then I said, “No.” Uh, Hello! Time for an attitude adjustment my friend!
In my 20’s when I had a bad boyfriend who crashed his car into my car, on purpose, and was so scary that I had to go stay in a safehouse, and then caused me to be evicted from my home, my best friend made me call her every day and tell her ten things I was grateful for. My life was in the shitter on Shit Street in Shitsville and I had to come up with ten things to be grateful for! Well let me tell ya, I think it got me through. So, if it worked then, it’ll work now.
I’m not going to torture you with my self-absorbed and very probably stupid list, (who knows, I might say I’m grateful for my teeth, or my boobs) but I will say that I shall make a list every day for the next week, and then check back in.
And that’s it! From the Sweet & Sour Chronicles, feelin’ a little sour but willing to let that change.
What is it that happens some mornings? Nothing has changed, but my heart is full of gratitude, and I’m thanking Lawd Jeezy for all I have in the plus side of my column. Granted, I still don’t love my job, but the plus is that the job has become the small part of my life, and the rest of my life overshadows it. I have my writing, which is lighting me up and making me shiny and new. I have an upcoming trip to Florida to soak up some sun. I have strong, close bonds with family and pretty much monthly birthday celebrations to look forward to (with six kids in our family, brothers and sisters in law, and eight nieces and nephews, we have a rich birthday celebration schedule). I have a trip to look forward to this summer that fulfills some of my life dreams. Life is…Good? YES! Don’t be scared, little one. It’s ok to be happy! Right now in this moment, this is happy. Not manic, just quiet contentment and thankfulness. I am going to try to carry this in my heart throughout the day. Sweet! Hope you all have a great day.
So…one of my fave bitches asked me to post five of my favorite bipolar blogs. This is such a great idea, I’d like to ask ALL OF YOU to do the same, and post a link here in the comments to YOUR blog posting so we can go and look and see all kinds of new blogs that we’ve been missing! I looooove reading the blogs but I do get in a rut of just going to the Reader and looking at blogs tagged “Bipolar”. So creative and intuitive I know. I’d love to compare lists! Here are mine, in no particular order . . . oh by the way…Happy VD People!!!
Broken Light: A Photo Collective (includes other mental illnesses, be flexible)
P.S. — I just realized I’m trying to start a chain letter! I totally bust myself!!!!! Oh well let’s still do it!! Ok ready set go! First one there gets a tuna san!
One time in my 20’s I got a wild hair up my butt and decided I didn’t like my life any more so the best thing seemed to be to move to PARIS. Now I didn’t take this decision lightly! I thought it over for oh, fifteen minutes or so. How would I make a living?, people asked. “Well, I don’t know why I’m saying this, but I want to sing!”, I’d say. Where did that come from? It was just a gut hunch. Nothing else.
So, I set my sights on Paris. I set a date. I let my job know. I had a BIG sale and sold off most of my possessions. I packed away the rest, put them in storage and paid up the storage unit for a good long time. I bought a plane ticket with a flexible return date. And then…. I got on that plane and went to Paris.
I found my way around Paris surprisingly easily and found all of the places where the American ex-pats hung around. One day as we were discussing my job prospects, one of my new friends asked “You can’t sing, can you?” at which point little bells began to ring in my head and I replied in the affirmative. She took me round to the Hollywood Savoy, a popular American-themed restaurant where the waitresses would sing in between waiting tables. I was promptly hired.
It didn’t lead to any magical singing career, but it did lead to an important internal knowing, about listening to the little voice that knows. Because when the little voice knows, IT FUCKING KNOWS. Amen.
It’s been a rough day emotionally. I had therapy today and it never ceases to amaze me how I can bop in there full of reports about how my life is just going swimmingly, only to have these shadows rise from the depth of me and engulf me with their sadness and grief. Ahh yes, THIS is why I am in therapy! THIS is why I struggle. THIS is why I want to drink to numb myself out of existence! Just for tonight, (stopping for a sob or two) I am committing to NOT drink, but rather to feel, whatever needs to be felt. To walk through whatever needs to be walked through. To be there for myself, and be 100% authentic in the sadness and grief as it washes over me. Wash over and through me, let my tears cleanse me, and then be done for now.
One of the most incredible nights of my life was when I got to sing My Girl on stage at a Temptations concert. The Temptations backed me up. What’s even more incredible than that is that my whole life up to then, I loved to sing and had a fantasy every time I went to a concert that somehow the people at the concert would know that I could sing, and would invite me onstage to sing with whoever the band was. Of course, this was just a fantasy. How could I possibly ever go onstage, at a concert, and sing?
It all started with a casual mention at work. An elderly lady, Peg, said “Bipolaronfire I have these tickets to The Temptations at the Lincoln Center tonight, I’m not going to use them. Would you like them, dear Bipolaronfire?” “Yes!” I answered and snatched them out of her bony hands. She liked to change her mind at the last minute and call out “Psych!” and I couldn’t take that chance with these tickets!
That evening my friend Fonnie and I found ourselves at the Lincoln Center in the first row of the Mezzanine. We both agreed that this situation beat the shit out of popcorn, top ramen and PeeWee’s Playhouse reruns. We were experiencing the ‘poor college student’ time of our lives. Since I packed my four years of college into eight, that was quite the extended stint of poverty and ramen.
The opening act before The Temptations was called The Nacho Men. They were a great acapella group and we sat back and enjoyed them. After The Nacho Men, Fonnie and I were sitting and recounting our good fortune when an older couple came up and said “Would you like to trade tickets? We have front row seats and it’s too loud for us!” Once again Fonnie and I couldn’t believe our good fortune. We gratefully accepted the couple’s offer and made our way to the right side of the stage, front row, just in time for the beginning of the Temptations.
Do I need to say how incredible the Temptations were? That I felt like I was having aural orgasms? Stop. Go back. Read the previous sentence. Au-ral. Orgasms. Of the ear. Oh, it was heaven. They were incredible. We’re flirting with them, Fonnie and I. And then here at some point this big bouncer-ish guy is securing a ladder in front of the stage. And THEN the bouncer-guy says to me “Would you like to go up onstage and sing?” And with a shove Fonnie says “Yes she WOULD!” And I’m up ONSTAGE in front of the whole concert audience and they say “Do you know My Girl?” and the song starts and I’M SINGING MY GIRL and the TEMPTATIONS ARE BACKING ME UP and THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!! Something in me took over then and I was flirting with the crowd and it was like I was MEANT to be up there! It was spectacular and more than I could have ever imagined in my fantasy.
Eventually I returned to my seat, and the concert ended. Afterwards, concertgoers asked me if that was arranged in advanced, because I was “so good” (No, it was not of course).
In looking back on it, I try to ask, what happened to make such a fantasy come to fruition? The only thing I can say is that I was in a pure gratitude state, purely in the moment, and so receptive to what the moment brought. If I could live my whole life like that, maybe such a fantastic fantasy might come true again someday.
This is why I hate my job. We work on a work order system and we get many, many more work orders every day than we could ever hope to complete. Our employer, being cheap fucks, will not staff our department appropriately so we just struggle along. Yesterday was a prime example. Email from bitchy woman: “I need your help right now, this is affecting my work.” Me: “Here’s a document that should help you do what you are trying to do.” (I have 57 work orders and she’s #55). Bitchy woman: “I need you to come resolve this right now.” Me: “I can’t resolve this right now but I’m hoping you can follow the documentation for a resolution. We have a strict first-in-first-out policy on tickets and we receive much more work every day than we can accomplish. I won’t be able to get to your ticket until sometime next week.” Bitchy woman: “You better come to my desk right now.” The BITCH in Bipolar Bitches Anonymous is rising like a genie from a bottle and threatening to float all the way to North Carolina to STRANGLE this woman!! I’m sorry but the most rational thing to do in this situation would be to grab my purse, leave a note that says “Fuck this job!” and RUN not walk to the nearest bar. The UNNATURAL thing to do is to keep working through such a taxingly shitty situation. Woo! Look at the time! This bitch better go get in the shower & get ready for work. *Sob*