You ever have one of those moments where you realize how well you really are doing?

I have BiPolar disorder and have for a little while now considered myself high functioning. High functioning with a caveat though.

I hold down a job. In fact I have been with the same company for 6 years now. I have a consistent routine that works really well. I get to work and other appointments usually on time with a few exceptions for circumstances not always under my control. I have a close group of friends that I would be lost without and a very supportive partner. I have not had a major episode in over 2 years.

The caveat being that I don’t usually remember to pay my bills, finish things that I start, or do some of the simple life maintenance things that “everyone else” does and that are usually humiliating to ask for help remembering.

I have been beating myself up for a long time about the caveat.

Till a few minutes ago, when I went on the About.com webpage looking for information on reasonable accommodations for BiPolar disorder to give to my new boss. I came across a checklist for Daily Maintenance that someone had put up. I read through it and decided that it would be a good idea for me to start using this.

Then it hit me…

I figured out how to do some of the things on the list on my own, that I have been doing them for a while now. I paid for a truck before taking ownership so that I worked with my limits instead of giving myself an excuse to beat myself up. I just made sure that instead of borrowing money to last till payday, I earned enough money to last till payday. I have my work back under control to the point that I can sit and write this on my lunch break, instead of working through lunch just to keep up. I am learning healthy boundaries and have become more comfortable in them.

These are all things that I have a hard time with and could not take into account that these are more difficult for me than most. Equivalent of swimming the English Channel with about 5 or 10 pounds of extra weight strapped to each foot. I had, up to this point been comparing myself to everyone else, the so called “normals” out there.

It just sunk in that I am doing fucking great!

No more input please...

really, I am full.

What do you do when there is too much coming in and not enough getting organized?

Well...

I am going to retreat to my place. Hide out with the dog and kitty for the weekend. Do some fairly mindless (but creative) bead work. Perhaps a walk on the field. Ya know, even sleeping all day is ok.

Just gonna step back. Breathe... Iiiiiiinnnn Oooouuutttt

I have a few decisions to make... do I stay or do I go? Do I delay again or do I get going this time? Do I keep pushing on even though I feel like I don't have a chance to improve or do I put that energy into another instrument? Do I continue to explore or do I go out an live life for a while? Is that last question just a cop-out?

So many questions...

Letter to Kristen

Boy, how do I begin this? You were my first true love. You gave me the space to become, and I, frankly, blew it. In the process of blowing it I took you down with me. For that I am deeply sorry.

You helped me get back on my feet. When it came time for me to help you I could have done a much better job. Then, when you started to get better I made sure I reminded you how hard it was for me while you were sick. One day I will be able to forgive myself for that.

I took so much of your life and did not give much in return.

I never let you have your own space. You had to disappear for 5 hours one night just to get some time alone. I am sorry I did not believe that the answering machine ate the messages. I am so sorry that I didn’t allow space for you to just be.

You always knew how to make me smile. I still tell people your description of your left-handedness. “I am so left-handed that my right arm is there just so people don’t stare.” I am sorry that I gave you more tears than laughter. Or respect.

I am sorry I drank so much. The times when I am tempted to break my recovery and sacrifice my sobriety I remember the night we fought about laundry. “And it isn’t even OURS” you said. It gives me a bitter-sweet smile when I think about that fight. Sweet, because you knew exactly how to sum up the entire stupid argument. Bitter because it was more time with you I wasted instead of spending it wisely and cherishing it.

I took from you but didn’t give back. Oh, I thought I was giving back but I look now with sober, “3 o’clock in the morning honesty” eyes and I see the truth of that time. I never gave without expectation. I never did anything out of selfless love. I cannot express how much I regret that.

You were not perfect but you were honest.

I still miss you. Even as I ride the Metro tonight, with people looking at me as I cry.

I want to call you and see if you are doing well. But that - I don’t trust that it isn’t for selfish reasons.

I want to send this to you directly, but I don’t want to cause more harm.

So, I post this here. In the hopes that you will find it. That you will read this and know how sorry I truly am. That perhaps I may get the answer back that you forgive me. That just maybe, it wasn’t a total waste of your time and energy. That you learned something good and that you have found someone new, as I have. That they share life with you and you are happy.

Perhaps one day we will finish the song Scenes from an Italian Restaurant. We did the middle part, it would be nice to do the beginning of that song. Well, I will pass on the bottle of red and the bottle of white. I spent too long in bottles…

Love,

Lou

Spoken Words

Speak to me the words you need to hear

I will speak to you the words I need to say

I pray they are the same

Ever have one of those days?

ever have one of those days...

one where you wake up in a slightly bad mood
and your mood goes downhill from there
because you are pissed off,
can't quite put your finger on it,
and won't allow yourself to take it out on anyone or anything?

then all day, at work, every-fucking-thing breaks
or locks up
or worked just a minute ago but now doesn't
or the deadline you are trying to make got moved up
but
the machine isn't cooperating?

Like, am I suddenly in a happy place
To have not written here in over a month

Hmmm....

Maybe

No, not happy.
Content.

Content place.

Well, I am Bipolar so I guess just give me time.

*giggle*

It must be nice

It must be nice to be who you are.
It must be nice to have never been beaten
It must be nice to have nice things
and never have had them destroyed
It must be nice to have never been raped
It must be nice to have been accepted
It must have been nice to be able to make a stand
without paying a price no one would be able to pay
It must be nice to have been loved your entire life
to never figure out the significance of a Supreme Court ruling
at the age of 8
It must have been nice to grow up knowing you are special
and special in a good way
It must be easy to live without the nightmares
It must be easy to wake up in the morning
It must be easy to have friends
when the worst betrayal you have had was high school bullshit
It must have been nice to have never run or hide or had to use your skills to avoid a beating
It must have made life so easy
Sometimes I wonder if you even know
Sometimes I wonder, if I told you, would you be able to handle it
or would you shrink away
in fear
in revulsion
from the crushing weight that I carry so effortlessly every moment of my life

Even in my sleep

My therapist and I have been discussing why I won't go off on her.

I should probably describe what I mean by go off.

Frog's Definition of "Go Off"

1. To voice one's concerns to someone about something that they did to piss you off
2. To display anger at someone in the form of a slightly raised voice and very little display of the actual emotion
3. To release some of one’s pent up frustration in the general (sort of, possibly) direction of the source of that frustration.

Now that we have that cleared up. My therapist and I have been arguing about why I don’t go off on her. I say “because” and she says “because why?” and so on and so forth.

Riding home on the public transportation train I had a thought.

Because under every circumstance I am to do NO HARM and to ONLY use my gift of perceiving someone’s weakness’ for good.

Then the thought comes

“That doesn’t need to apply anymore ya know.”

Huh?

It. Does. Not. Need. To. Apply. Anymore.

Really?

Yes.

Oh.

So, as I am riding along and thinking about this I decided to look at the old rule, toss it out and write the new rules. Here is what I wrote as it was written.

“Do no harm” was the rule I had to live by when I was not fully awake.

Because

By not being fully awake (aware), just by asserting myself I would go to far

The rule no longer needs to apply

Because

I am becoming, day by day, MORE aware

More connected to my body, signals, perceptions, signals

This means

Much like you would not let a drunk person drive a car, it was not a good idea for me to let go

That is no longer the case

I can let go

Because

I am sober, connected, aware, awake, accepting of life, in all(most) forms

I don’t’ need to be a doormat anymore
I don’t want to be a doormat anymore

Time for the rules to change

New Rules?

If I am tired be aware that since this is all new, go slow, BUT still go

Be gentle and kind to myself. Listen to and be fully(as I can) with myself.

Get enough sleep, rest, work, play, everything in balance

Be sure to involve the body AND mind together. After all, what is one without the other

Like driving a car – it will take practice to know how to work it so

Be gentle on your/myself when I step on the gas/break too hard or I turn on the wipers when I mean to turn on the lights

Mistakes are not failures

It is ok to ask for what I need

It is even ok to ask for what I want

Even if I don’t get either.


The question you may ask after reading the rules is Have I gone off on her yet? Nope. May not either. Just like in life, some rules are meant to be sidestepped.

One day I will be free. Just like she is.

From an email from a friend

Subject: a line from a new book I'm reading

Said to the character who had an abusive childhood when she decides to move back to her home town. I thought you might find this encouraging.

“You ask me, it takes more guts to go back to the beginning than just about anyplace else”

Did they know?

So, did the band members of Pink Floyd know, when they accepted the record company's offer of releasing The Wall before the end of 1979 that they were making a deadline that would mean so much to a 7 year old little girl in America who had not heard of them before?

Did they know that the album would mean so much to that abused 7 year old?

Did anyone know that the song Mother would describe mine?
That Another Brick in the Wall Part 2 would describe my school life?
Did I know what it would mean to know that there were others out there like me?
Who had similar experiences as mine?

Does anyone know how I feel these days?
The desire to beat that bitch.
The bitch that turned me over,
and under,
and inside out.
All with a smile on her face.
and with bonds behind her back.
Bonds that stay with me to this day.
All that time ago.
That 7 year old little girl who just wanted to be accepted, cared for, loved
By ANYONE.
Which would be how the bitch got her hooks in.
Into the heart
and tore the place up.

How did the 7 year old little girl know the danger?
Who could the 7 year old little girl go to for help?
The parents who were abusing each other, who would come home drunk and need to be put to bed, separately, because they would fight ALL NIGHT if they weren't?
The teacher who regularly pointed out how the 7 year old little girl was different, wierd, slow, stupid, careless, clumsy, and just by breathing air was a nusence.
The school administration who knew about this teacher, who could hear her screaming at the kids all the way down the hall, and did nothing?
The social services that the 7 year old little girl didn't know existed?
The family of the little girl who felt she didn't deserve to be there, to be listened to, who felt that she just needed to go away because she was in the way, needy, because she was the daughter of the "black sheep" who married the "bad boy"?
The family who beat the little girl because she wouldn't sit still. the little girl who couldn't sit still because the world was a facinating place and she had to see everything.

Who do you trust when everyone you trust is abusing you?

You get to the point where I was/am/was/am/was/am:

Fuck them all because they will all fuck me anyway.
Don't give anything because it will all get broken.
Don't let anyone in because they will just trash the fucking place anyway and frankly, I just got the place looking nice after the last person trashed it, so...