An Excruciating Blast from the Past

So, I have been exploring my writing more and more every day. It soothes me. Verbal vomit can be your best friend at times, or it can be your worst enemy. Either way, it's good to get it all out. I remembered a blog that I had started back in late 2010, surprising as it has been long forgotten. With this writing binge I've been on, I went back to that long forgotten blog. It wasn't very impressive, maybe 5 posts at best, looking back at it though, I had written it at one of my darkest times. At that point I had not been diagnosed with anything, so I didn't really know how dark I was. I want to give you an excerpt of something that was so profound to me that even to this very day, I can not read it without tears flowing.

" In May of 2010 my Aunt (Auntie), who is my best friend and my mother for all intents and purposes, was diagnosed with lung cancer. This absolutely devastated me. I tried to stay optimistic, especially when I talked to her on the phone. She lived in Arkansas and I lived in Michigan. The truth of the matter though was that a part of me inside was dying right along with her as I knew this disease was eating her alive. My other aunt was taking care of her, back and forth to doctors and what not. This killed me, I wanted to be there so badly, but due to finances, kids, and work I was unable to do anything but talk to her on the phone. She fought so hard with the treatments and she always had a smile on her face regardless of how much pain she was in. The treatments worked to a point. The mass in her lungs went away, but not before it spread into her brain, bones, and adrenal glands. There was nothing anyone could do for her but to make sure that she was comfortable and happy. In the beginning of October I had finally gotten the money up to go see her. I called her and told her to hang on a couple more weeks and I would be down there to see her (for what I knew would be the last time). That was on a Friday. Saturday, I talked to her again on the phone and I could barely understand what she was saying, the only thing I could make out was "I love you". My other aunt then got on the phone and said that she had taken a turn for the worse and I should get down there sooner than I had made plans for. That following Monday, she was taken to the hospital because she was swelling in her arms and feet, aspirating, and hardly responsive. By late Monday night, she was in hospice, resting with a morphine drip and no pain. My other aunt called me at midnight and told me to come now, it was time. Tuesday morning, I sent my kids off to school like it was a normal day and started making preparations for an emergency road trip. By about six o'clock that evening we were on the road headed to Arkansas. We got there at about ten the next morning. I met my aunt at her house and had a cup of coffee, after that we went to the hospital. When I walked into the room, I broke down. The woman that I had loved my whole life, the one who hung the moon in my eyes, had wasted away. The treatments had taken all of her hair, and reduced her to skin and bones. Being as she was in hospice, there were no monitors beeping, or ventilators swooshing. Just an oxygen tube by her nose and an IV for her morphine. I stayed with her all day and most of the night until my husband talked me into going back to the house to take a shower and get some rest. Not an hour after we got to the house, hospice called. "Shes marbling" they said, "Shes starting to die" they said. We rushed back to the hospital. When we got there she was stable again and she was not about to die, yet. After that scare, I refused to leave her side, I took it as a sign saying that she needed me there with her, we were the most important thing in each others lives. Everyone else went home to get some much needed sleep. I talked to her through the night, she seemed to hear me because when I spoke to her, she would move, but that was it. She had a guest book in her room that people signed and said some beautiful things to her and about her, I figured it was my turn. I wrote how sorry I was for not being there for her sooner, and how much I would regret that for the rest of my life, and how even though my mother (her sister) is still alive and well, she was my mom, she was my everything and I didn't know how I was going to live without her but me and the kids would be OK and I would make her proud. When I was done writing it I read it to her while I held her hand and wiped away my own tears. I wished so badly that she would just open her eyes and wrap her arms around me, all she did was take a deep breath and squeeze my hand. Then I knew that she heard me. After that I held her hand, not letting go, I wanted her to feel that I was there, and I dozed off. I have no clue how long I was asleep for, all I know is that I woke up with this incredibly strong, indescribable fear that engulfed me like I was being sucked into a black hole. I had to take a break. I went out into the hall, went outside to smoke (stupid under the circumstance, I know). After I had regained my composure, I went back to her bedside to hold her hand for however long she needed me. The morning came and people started coming in again, saying their I'm sorrys, and saying how good of a person she was, and how they loved her, and telling stories about her. I wanted to scream at them and tell them to get out, to stop touching her, to leave us alone. I knew though that she would not have wanted me to act like that, she had taught me better than that. They were just there being nice, but all I could do is cry, and berate them silently for having seen her when I couldn't.  She took her last breath October 28, 2010 at 4:40pm. I was still holding her hand. "

This was the most terrifying and debilitating thing that had ever happened to me. I promised that I would make her proud, and since her death I have rotted away myself. Wishing every day to be with her. I have done nothing. This is why I have decided to write. Maybe if I can write and help even just one person, I can make her proud. When I get depressed, my thoughts always turn to her. Today is one of those days.

Crazy-Sad-Pants

So, Thanksgiving has come and gone. Normally, I would have put my Christmas tree up the day after, however, my moods had other plans. The tree is still not up, and neither am I. The Seroquel is helping tremendously, but that doesn't fix everything. So many stresses. Kids, bills, doctors, hubby, holidays in general; it all just sucks at the moment, and I'm in a funk. I am doing my best to write every day, but that doesn't always happen the way I plan it. Depression sucks.

My therapist came by today. That was nice, she was nice. She always is. Sometimes I think she has some kind of opinion of me, but she's not supposed to. It's only natural though, right? To form an opinion of someone you meet. She seems to be a wonderful person, I would love to have a friend like her. Can't be "friends" with her though because she is my therapist. Where I'm at I don't have any friends, not one. I have several friends across the country in various places, and I love them all, but none here where I'm at. That is sad now that I think of it. Maybe in time, we'll see.

 Kids are home and hubs is on the way, I suppose I should stop writing and focus on, oh I don't know, dinner... such is life.

Until next time.

A Fly on the Wall : The Happy Woman

You have all said, I'm sure at one point in time, "If only I could be a fly on the wall, the things I would know". Well, a question posed to me this week was, "If you were a fly on the wall, what would a happy woman look like to you"? This is my answer.

As a fly, I see a lot. Some are things that are no big deal, and others are things that a fly, or anyone else for that matter, should never see. Today I flew into a house just like I would any other house on any other random day. This particular house at the time was unkempt, a sign of kids for sure, but it was not filthy in any sense of the word. The kids were nowhere in sight, probably at school or out playing. There was one woman in the house though. She was not dressed for the day, still in her night clothes. This made me curious, so I followed her from room to room. Careful not to get too close, because as we all know, when a fly gets too close to a human, they are likely to die by swat. I digress.

As she puttered around the house, picking up after her family, she stopped for a moment. Arms loaded, she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, looked around, and smiled. I wondered why she was smiling. She was picking up the house after everyone else, and she was disheveled, not something any normal woman would be smiling about, I thought. So I continued to follow her, from room to room, for what seemed like forever. After all, I will only be live for three days, and today is day two.

I looked at the clock. It was three thirty in the afternoon, and she started to cook, still with that same smile on her face. Curious indeed. The front door flew open, with two squirmy children running through it. Shoes flying and backpacks askew by the now closed door. The woman stops what she is doing and greets them with a smile, never minding that they are quickly undoing all that she had done while they were away. Now is the time for her to multitask. Dinner and homework, and preparations for the next day. Her husband will be home soon too. Not a glamorous life, but it's hers, and she loves every minute of it.

At the end of the day, I follow her into the bedroom. Her husband is in the bed reading the newspaper for the day, and she is getting ready to get into the bed herself. They start talking about their days and what transpired. "I don't know why you always look so happy, with the kids always fighting, and the house never being completely clean, and the stress you deal with day in and day out, how do you keep that beautiful smile always plastered on your face?" the husband asks. She simply said, "I know I am loved."

With a quizzical look on his face, he said, "Of course you are! That still doesn't explain your constant smile because even when your'e sad, you know you are loved." She sits and thinks for a moment. Then she turns to him and says, " I am happy because I know you and our kids are happy and appreciate the things I do. I am happy because our bills are paid. I am happy because I know we are raising our kids the right way, even when we do stumble. I am happy because I am content within myself, and I know that I wouldn't trade our life for any other."

As a fly, I know only two things of humans. One, they really don't like us, and two, they leave us yummy morsels of food, even when they don't mean to. This human woman taught me something though. Happiness is not about what you have or don't have. This woman was happy because she felt loved, and she knew that no matter what her past was, or what she did or didn't do, she would be loved. There really is no certain look to happiness, smiles can and are faked every day. She felt protected, safe, stable, and loved, and no matter what kind of chaos entered her life, she knew she had the support she needed.

Bipolar Money

Being bipolar is hard enough, and trying to make money while struggling with it makes it that much harder. Some are lucky enough to have spouses or parents that help them out financially, still not an easy road, but easier. Most of us can not hold down a job for more than a few months at a time, and this fact alone (not to mention the tons of other factors) makes our resumes look less than desirable to potential employers. This is a problem within the mental health community not only with bipolar, but with countless other mental illnesses as well. Sure, there is SSI, SSID, welfare, etc., but lets face it, using those resources cause more dysfunction than they help. It is true that for a lot of people these services and aids are an absolute godsend, but if you are physically able and your mental health holds you back, it can be very frustrating and confusing to say the least. People of not only strong body, but also of strong mind, really don't know how easy they have it.

We have to be creative about how we can earn our living without feeling like a sponge on society and those around us. Some can write, some can paint, some can come up with some amazing inventions to make life easier, and the list of creativity goes on and on. The point is that although our brains aren't the "norm", and we think so differently than most, we can still make money by making our illness work for us, not against us.

Figure out what you love. Make money with it. I'm not saying that you will make millions, pasta knows that is probably not going to happen for most, but every penny counts. There are ways to do it. For example, I love to write. I have been writing since childhood. Short stories, poems, this blog, several attempts at novels, the list goes on. Have I made any money at it? Um, no. But that does not mean that I won't some day. I am my own worst enemy when it comes to my writing. I am hyper-critical of what I write, and sometimes I will hit a brick wall, and being as I don't have anyone to report to I tend to get hopeless and under-motivated. So it's back to the drawing board .. a lot.

As I said, being bipolar and making money is not easy, but it is doable. Working from home is always sketchy, there are a lot of scams out there that will make you believe that you can make millions sitting on your butt. THIS IS NEVER TRUE!!! Earned money takes work, and work requires movement, and movement requires motivation, and motivation requires determination, see where I'm going with this? Use hypomania to your advantage. Will you fall flat on your face with some of it? Of course! We all do, even the norms fall from time to time. Some of the best things in this world came from bipolar people! While they were in the throws of their cycles! Go figure! If that is not motivation, I don't know what is.

So go forth, try, fall, then pull yourself up and try again, one of the attempts are bound to stick. My suggestion for the bouts of "inspiration" would be to share it with someone that knows you and knows your ailment. If the norms aren't good for anything, they are good for keeping us grounded when we get ahead of ourselves.

Kicking Myself for Good Reason

Hello blogger world! I have been feeling better since I started the new medications, we shall see if it lasts this time though. Mostly level now, haven't been having the rapid cycles within a day, now the cycling is spread out more to daily where it's one or two moods in a day instead of 500.

Now down to the reason I am kicking myself. Stretch is 14, he has had several diagnoses in the mental health world. ADHD, ODD, Bipolar, just a "bad" kid. Now he is being looked at for High Functioning Autism / Asperger's Syndrome. Finally, an explanation for the past 14 years, the ups, the downs, and everything in between. This could be a turning point. I should have listened when he was 4. His pediatrician that gave him his first med for ADHD tried telling me that he is autistic. He tried telling me, and because I was young and ignorant, I refused it and continued on without giving it another thought. I didn't want to believe it. Autistic? My baby? No, not him. He hit all of his major milestones on time and sometimes early, hey was hyper, he was smart, he could talk, no way in hell was he autistic! Oh boy, how was I wrong, and it only took me 10 years to see it. Better late than never I suppose. Now I have his teachers and his current pediatrician telling me that they see what I have been so willfully blind to all these years. My poor son has an idiot for a mother. So, taking a crash course in high functioning autism. We are all just waiting for the official diagnosis to be made, then the roller coaster of re learning everything begins. Thankfully his special education teacher was sent from heaven, she is truly a godsend and I don't know what I would be doing without her.

Well, that is the update as of now. I will keep you guys posted!

Tra-la-la *OBSCENITIES* la-la-la

Ok, so I have started, deleted, and re-started this blog 3 different times trying to get all the buzz out of my head. Sometimes I think it's never going to go away. Boy has this been a crazy few weeks. It is so hard for me to remember things because of the bipolar and the constant racing thoughts, so if I repeat something that I have posted already I apologize, I know it is bound to happen, so I'm just putting that out there now. I never know where to start or when to stop, I have so many thoughts at once that it's torture, and the thoughts never stay for very long, they must not like me too much. I have been having a really.. and I mean REALLY.. hard time concentrating on anything for more than a couple of seconds, it's horrid and very detrimental to my writing sadly.

So went to meet the new head shrinker. He seemed nice, but it was super weird and kind of rushed. They put me in an almost bare room with a couple of chairs, a desk, and a big computer monitor. The doc was in a city about an hour and a half away, and we did the whole session (all of maybe 10 minutes) on Skype. Really? Is this some new-fangled thing that is common practice now? I did not like it at all, it made me very uncomfortable. He ended up telling me to take 200mg of Seroquel, but that the prescription would be Fed-Ex'd next day, so that was super weird too. Why couldn't he just call it in? Surely if he can Skype, he has a phone to call a pharmacy with. Not too sure this place is going to work out. Still haven't met the therapist yet, I'll meet her Friday. This should be fun. I'm agoraphobic and bipolar. I was told at my intake that they would work with me and they would not push me out of my comfort zone right away and they would work with me to get me to that point, and this is so totally what they are not doing. Here goes the distrust with yet another mental health facility that claims to help on your terms but what they really mean is we will feed you a line of shit that we think you want to hear at the moment and just do what we want anyway. I am just so over the bullshit of being sick already! Everything is torturous and painful anymore.

So with Stretch, that is escalating quickly too. He has a full evaluation set up for November, he is bipolar as well but he has major I-want-to-burn-the-world-to-ash rage too, and he's a tree, so it's scary. Took him to his primary to get  a refill on the meds that aren't working because we are in transition between shrinks and found out that he is developing high blood pressure. FML.. He is only 14 years old! This is crazy, and as a mom, frankly, it is scaring the shit out of me. I can barely hold myself together, and dealing with him is no picnic. Pasta knows I love my son with everything in me, and I will do anything it takes, but it is so very hard. I am just drained at this point. If we don't get some relief soon I see pretty padded rooms and the oh-so-lovely hug yourself coats in the future, no bueno.

BIT-O-RANDOM

I have wanted to be an author since I can remember. Unfortunately I have the attention span of a goldfish on crack, so it hasn't worked out as well as I envisioned it would when I was little. I have so many book ideas floating around I can't keep up. So, what do you think? Is my writing style book worthy? Should I just hang that dream out to dry? Let me know. Thanks for reading!

I Quit!! I don't want to play this game anymore!!!

Ok, so the past 2 days have been complete FML days for sure. It started on Thursday with another war with my cable company, All. F-ing. Day. Long. Ridiculous. Resort Cable TV is a joke. They are over priced, their customer service is rude and unaccommodating, they charge you for THEIR screw ups, and they are super quick to hit that disconnect button when you disagree with them on anything. They are the only cable company in the area, so they have the market cornered and they know it, so they take advantage of their customers because they know the customers have no other choice. THIS COMPANY IS A JOKE!!!

Then yesterday, my son and I had an appointment with our therapist (again the only one in town). Now keep in mind I am BP and agoraphobic, so it's hard for me to go anywhere for anything. We get there and it's a madhouse. Trigger #1, can't do crowds at all. We get into the counselor's office and start talking. I ask her to check my son for IED (intermittent explosive disorder), and tell her that I am ready to try a new med for my BP finally after the last one tried to kill me. First off we are focusing on my son, we are discussing his symptoms and outbursts. Then the counselor mentions DHS, instant hardcore panic attack ensues, paper bag and all. Once I was through the panic attack, she explains what she meant. She didn't mean that she wanted to call them, she meant that if it gets dangerous for my daughter then she will have to. Understandable, but not necessary. I will not leave the two of them alone, so the risk of her getting hurt is slim to none. By the end of the appointment, Doc said that she wants to review our files and carefully figure out what kind of treatment she wants to go with. She also told my son that she is giving him 2 weeks to start the treatment and try to get himself under control, and if he can't or won't she is going to admit him to the psych ward. FML not this again. He was in the hospital twice when he was little, about 5 or 6, and it was really hard for both of us. So, she wants me to come back in Tuesday without the kids to go over the treatments that she has decided on. Ugh, have to leave the house yet again.. I feel like I'm reaching my breaking point.

Last night I was telling hubby about the new diagnosis for Stretch, and everything that happened at the Dr office. *NOTE* Hubby is mentally healthy, he is one of the "normals". So I'm telling him how we need to start educating ourselves on IED since it is new to us, and we get into a fight. He starts spouting the "you can control it if you choose to" bullsnit. Saying that you choose weather you want to control it or not. OMG I flipped out. All I was saying was that we need to educate ourselves and learn how to better deal with his outbursts. I wasn't trying to make excuses, I wasn't saying that he gets a pass on every negative behavior, all I was trying to say was that we need to learn how to deal with the outbursts he has due to his illness differently because obviously what we have been doing IS NOT WORKING!!! Then, I get frustrated because I'm apparently not explaining myself right to where he understands, and I put my hands to my face and growl, hubby then says "see, that's where he gets it from".. Flip out number 2... I started screaming at him. "You don't understand!!! You will never understand because you got lucky and you don't struggle with your brain EVERY F-ING DAY!!" I wanted to choke him last night! I excuse some of his attitude towards it because he really doesn't know what we go through, so there is no way he can fully understand and sympathize. On the other hand, his mind is not open enough to consider other possibilities and opinions other than his own, and trying to educate him on mental illness is like trying to pull teeth with no tools, very difficult but possible. We eventually understood each other to a point and the fight calms down, but it still bothers me. I don't know how to make him understand that the symptoms are treatable and controlable to a point, but it is never cured, and those that have mental illnesses don't have a choice. They have a choice to get treatment and try to control it, but they don't have a choice on having the mental illness.

So, that is my rant. Feels good to get it out, just wish getting it out would take away the frustration of it all.

A Busy Fog

This past week has been hectic. I am now an admin on 3 Facebook pages, and I am working on promoting my brother's business. I am so scatter brained, having trouble finding quality content to post for the pages, and spacing out. Maybe I am finding ok content and just second guessing myself, I don't know. The kids are good and hubby is content, so that hasn't went haywire yet. I have met a few quality people online last week, I hope I can keep and grow these new friendships. I get so tired all the time, maybe it's a down swing, maybe it's something else. Only pasta knows.

Speaking of pasta, I am by no means religious. I think organized religion is a joke. Do I believe there is a God or "higher power"? Sure, why not? That is more comforting to think than the alternative. However, I do not believe that what organized religion teaches and preaches is 100% accurate all of the time. I am just rambling at this point, so I will shelf that discussion for another time when my head is clear and I can form a sentence that makes sense.

Not being on medication is interesting, and torture all at the same time. It's interesting because when you wake up in the morning, you never know which you you're going to get, or how many in one day. At the same time though, it is torture not knowing that. You feel out of control. Up, down, up, down.. when does it end? It's exhausting! I have a psych appointment on Friday, I'm going to take the dive and try a new medication. The last one I tried, Lamictal, that one tried to kill me. It landed me in the hospital. Scary stuff, so hopefully I find one that works this time, wish me luck.

All. Over. The. Place! UGH! YAY! Really brain?

I have been busier than usual. Opened several different projects, plus dealing with kids, hubby, house, and a way over active thought process. Yep, you guessed it! Another 5 million tabs open and 5 more notebooks added to the mix! It never ends! But, it makes for an interesting day.

Being home alone with my thoughts can be torture. I talk to myself a lot, especially when I have a lot going on, I have to. If I don't then I get side tracked and forget everything. So, my rockstar brother is trying to start up a music production company, and he has asked me to help promote and bring in new clients. So honored that he had enough faith in me to ask, and more than happy to help. http://www.reverbnation.com/label/blissforge (shameless plug here :) ) Anyway, this has given me something else to focus on during the day when I'm by myself. So far it's fun!

I joined a page on facebook recently that has helped me some, had a great morning with one of the admins during an upswing. I have fun with the upswings, but when I come down from one I get a killer headache.

Dramatude and Stretch are doing good, week 2 of school and I am already worrying about grades and missing assignments. Not so much with Dramatude yet, but Stretch is already starting his crap, and we are even bribing him with an Xbox at the end of the year if he earns all A's and B's for the entire year. I don't get kids sometimes. It's not like when I was growing up when you actually had to use your brain for school. Sometimes I think technology is more of a hindrance in schools than a help. Now, they make the kids use calculators, I was never allowed to use one!! Had to use my brain. Don't get me started on this, lol, it will never end.

Now to deal with the local cable company. The customer service lines for Resort Cable are a joke! If you have an issue, the reps are ill equipped to handle and fix it. They charge for things that should not be charged for, they never have answers for anything, and more times than not, they are incredibly rude. What this company needs to do is educate their customer service reps not only on their policies and procedures, but educate them on customer service! I know, crazy suggestion. Psh. So, after dealing with the incompetence, I had to contact the VP of the company. Ahh, sweet results :)

Scatter-brain (And it's a good day!)

This morning I woke up at the usual time, one eye open, searching for my go juice (coffee). Nothing happens, not even conversation, until I have had at least one cup of go juice. After that first cup today it was go time, yep, it's a mania day!! I am on one of my rare, but sometimes welcome, high swings.. here we go. I have been all over the place this morning! Cleaning, taking care of my plants, getting Stretch, Dramatude, and Hubby off to school and work, and brainstorming for this blog. With brainstorming there is a downside, I suddenly can't stay focused on one idea. I get an idea, do some research, the research spawns another idea, do some research on that, and that horrid cycle continues until I have 5,972 tabs open and hundreds more written down on a notepad so I don't forget, if I don't write it down, I WILL forget, and that sucks, because some of my ideas are genius to me.

Anyway, I wanted to talk a little about my personal support system today, and at the end of this another amusing moment from the chronicles of Dramatude. O-K.. 123 and GO! My very close support system, my rocks, consist of now 3 people (it was 4 but 1 passed away in 2010).. my "cuzister" she is truly an angel in disguise in my eyes, she has saved me from myself so many times without even knowing it. She has been my rock since my aunt died, before that she was still one of my rocks, but since that happened, she has become not just a rock, but an entire mountain side that I can lean on. She is always there for me no matter what, she knows I'm totally PCL (psycho crazy loon) but she loves me anyway, and even though she doesn't have the disorders I do, somehow she understands me completely and I have no clue how she does it. I love, cherish, and appreciate her more than she will ever know! #2 is one of my rocker brothers, he struggles just like I do and worse, but we lean on each other frequently, and he knows exactly what I go through because he goes through it to. He is a very important part of my support system, when I don't make sense to the rest of the world, I make sense to him. I love and respect the man he has become, when it comes to mental health, he is truly my inspiration that everything is going to be ok no matter what. #3 is my step mom. She is an amazing lady with an amazing heart. We have had our struggles, but she is a very important part of support too. She is another angel in disguise (although her horns hold her halo up sometimes, hehe). I don't know what I would do without these three very important people, I feel so damn fortunate to have them in my life.

Chronicles of Dramatude

So, last night while telling the kids goodnight and tucking them in Dramatude was in the other room saying goodnight to dad and I was in Stretch's room talking to him. I told him "You know, I love you to the moon and back" He looks at me and says "That's not really that far" I told him "Fine, to the edge of outer space and back" Then we started discussing how far that was, and this is when Dramatude walks in. When she walks in she says "Well that's not too far, it's over by Benton" and me and Stretch started laughing hysterically. Benton is a town that's about 30 miles from where we live. She does this all the time, she will put her two cents in having absolutely no clue what the conversation was about in the first place. HAHA gotta love her...

Nod If You Hear Me a Bipolar Blog: Aching Heart

Nod If You Hear Me a Bipolar Blog: Aching Heart This girl is amazing! Love her blog, check it out!

From the depths of the couch..

Late post today, low day. Have dinner in the oven now and Stretch and Dramatude are home. Due to that this will probably be a short post. Last night I was so stressed out I did a bad thing. I was screaming at Stretch, in his face, telling him that I am going to die from an aneurysm, or a stroke, or a heart attack because of him. I know that should have never even came out of my mouth, and I feel horrible about it. This is why I blew up : he treats his sister in the most hateful nasty manner I have ever seen in my life, all the time, and I'm way over my tolerance limit with it. I know a lot will tell me "Oh, it's just sibling rivalry, loosen up." -No- this goes way beyond sibling  rivalry. I have siblings, I know very well that it's not always rainbows and sunshine and they will not always get along. I don't know what to do about it, he has hated her since she was born and it kills me. So, after my blow up,I apologized to Stretch, and I made them sit down and talk about their feelings in relation to each other. I didn't know what else to do.

On a lighter note, I was doing a load of laundry last night and Dramatude asked me "Does dad fart dust?" I laughed so hard. Hubby sweats a lot so he uses powder to keep from chaffing. Dramatude saw his shorts as I was loading the laundry.

On the bipolar front, today is a low day. I sat on the couch and spaced out most of the day and tried not to think. I tooled around on the internet a bit, joined a couple support groups. Not an exciting day, hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Harder than it looks

So, this is my 3rd post, obviously I have no clue what the hell I'm doing. This is a lot harder than it looks for sure. I read a lot of blogs, and have done tons of research. To no avail, so far I am getting 3-4 look-sees per post. The fighter in me says "Screw this, I'm just gonna keep on blabbing",  but the bipolar insecure me says "Who cares? No one is interested." I think I am going to side with the fighter, might as well, eh?

My drive is to help people and to simply vent for my own sanity. I have never claimed to have all the answers to everything, but I have some pretty good guesses. I just found out I am bipolar about a year and a half ago, shrink says I have been like this my whole life, it just went misdiagnosed. Makes sense now that I look back on all of the stupidity that has happened ever since I can remember. WARNING: I am not medicated as of right now, so I am all over the place! One thing I am super good at is hiding it from my kids. If they are around, I fake it till I make it. The only mom they see is a happy, bubbly, goofy mom that loves them more than life itself and would do anything for them. Occasionally they will see a cranky mom, but they NEVER see a sad one.

I had Stretch when I was 17, he saw me cry while having a manic psycho episode when he was about 3. I didn't know what it was at the time, I just knew I was freaking out for no reason. I was in the corner of the bed in the fetal position just flipping out and my 3 year old walked in, looked at me, and laughed. Looking back, I know he wasn't laughing AT me per-say, but at the time, that simple little giggle that had and does bring me so much joy, devastated me. I thought at the time, surely my little angel hates me, why else would he laugh? I don't know what he was laughing at that day, he was 3, it could have been anything. Even now when I think about that day, it still hurts a little and I have to actively tell myself that he was not laughing at me and he didn't hate me that day, I'm his mom, he loves me, and a 3 year old doesn't have the capacity to hate anything. That was the one and only time either one of my kids (Dramatude has never seen it) have ever seen me be manic. Although, they have felt the after affects of the episodes, but not since I got the proper diagnosis.

Hubby and I have been together for almost 4 years so far, longest romantic relationship I've ever had, and I was married twice before. Yikes! I am so thankful that he has stuck around with all of the psycho moments and lapses of judgment I have had. He is not flawless by far, but he is the best in my eyes. I have left him and come back twice because of my mania. That's my thing, I start freaking out for no reason, and I run. It is a nasty by product of being bipolar for me, that has been a struggle. Now that I know why I get this overwhelming need to run due to made up scenarios in my head, I know how to deal with them and not run. We'll get more into that later. Suffice it to say, I am a hot mess, and my hubby loves me anyway. Score!

Kids are back to school = Back to the drawing board

I apologize for taking so long to post again. I have had a bit of writers block, it has been a long time since I have written on a regular basis. As I said in my previous post, I'm new to this and don't really know what everyone wants to read, so any comments and/or suggestions are welcome and greatly appreciated. Stretch and Dramatude went back to school yesterday (yay) so now I have 8 hours to fully dedicate to my writing Monday through Friday. So, let's just jump in head first, shall we?

Family Relations

I love my immediate family (hubby and mini-monsters) no questions asked, my extended family though, that is a whole other ball game. There are few blood related people in my life that I can stomach, and that saddens me deeply, but it is what it is. I don't really go along with the old adage "You can pick your nose, but you can't pick your family" because for the most part, I have picked my family (most of them), or at least picked those who I consider family. Biologically, without going back too far in my lineage, I have 1 mom, 1 dad, 4 half-brothers, 1 half-sister, 5 uncles (3 alive), and 4 aunts (3 alive). Now, the way I see it, I have 2 moms (bio & step), 1 dad (step), 3 brothers (2 half, 1 no blood), 3 sisters (2 no blood, 1 technically a distant cousin), 1 uncle, and 1 aunt (she died in 2010).

The reason I went through all of that is because I want to stress that family is not necessarily who you are related to by blood. I am a very dark "black sheep" in my technical family, have been for as long as I can remember, and I would not be the person I am today or gotten through what I have, if it weren't for my family that I have hand picked. Even though I have my hand picked family though, I still feel alone all the freaking time. I talk to them all on occasion, some more than others, but I don't live near any of them so I never see them.

Moral of the story is if you have a crappy family, pick your own. Family isn't defined by bloodlines anymore, you define who and what your family is. Trust me, you will have less drama and be more sane if you do.

Politically correct-- or not?

There are so many topics to touch on in this category it's hard to know where to start. Oh! I know! Let's start with some things that just chap my ass. Willful ignorance is a HUGE one for me!! First, if you are one that is willfully ignorant when it comes to the LGBT community, you sir/ma'am are an idiot, and that is being nice. I am a straight female, however, I fully support the effort for equal rights. Everyone needs love, period. My hubby and I are polar opposites on this subject along with many others. He is a conservative republican *insert eye roll here* and I am a liberal. Not a likely match, but we make it work. I tell him all the time, "Go ahead, choose to like dudes" he says "I don't want to"... that is one of the many points there are. YOU CAN NOT SIMPLY CHOOSE to be gay or straight, and to think that you can is absurd. To the ones who say " I guess it's fine that you're gay, just don't marry or raise children"-- would you get in line at Subway and berate someone for not ordering the same sub as you and try to stop them from getting what they want? "No" you say? Well, why not? Hmm.. think about that for a moment, and then tell me how that scenario is any different than you telling someone they can't get married and have a family, just like you, just because it's not what you would prefer for yourself. Sounds silly doesn't it? This is a big debate between the hubby and I, and it makes me see red. If you would care to differ in your opinion, by all means, comment and we shall discuss. That is all for now on that, on to the next.

Medical marijuana, this is a very tricky debate. Both sides have valid (sometimes) concerns. Personally, I don't smoke pot, but I used to, so I am not naive. Most everyone I know has or still does smoke it. I don't think it should be legal for recreational use, but I do believe with all my heart and soul that the medical benefits are countless. My mom is epileptic, she has smoked it my whole life. I have seen what happens first hand when she doesn't, she has life threatening grand mal seizures. My beloved aunt died 6 months after her diagnosis of cancer, had she not smoked pot, she would have died quicker and in more pain. Those are only two examples from millions. Ask yourself this, if your mom, dad, husband, wife, heavens forbid your child, or anyone you care about gets sick, and not only the doctors but everyone else that has a functioning brain cell told you that the only thing that was going to give them some kind of relief was marijuana, would you deny them that relief just because it's "the dreaded and evil pot"? If you do, you are a twisted, torture loving monster. The benefits are endless in a medical situation. Going through chemo and can't eat? Go hit a joint a couple times, you will be able to eat then :)

Guns, oh my geez, guns. Really people? Would you ban all writing utensils for all the misspelled words in the world? No? Then why in the world would you ban guns because of the gun deaths? THIS LOGIC MAKES NO SENSE!! The misspelled word is the idiots fault behind the pencil, just like the gun death is the psycho's fault behind the gun!!! It is that simple!! Make the background checks more efficient to include mental health history, require a medical professional signature. There is food for thought. I don't own a gun, but I also don't think that owning a gun is wrong. If someone I love, or I gets shot, it's not the guns fault, it was doing what it was designed to do, shoot a bullet. The blame would be on the one who pulled the trigger, it wasn't a malfunction on the guns part. As for kids shooting kids, that is also the gun owner's fault, not the kids or the guns. Children need to be educated, take bags for instance. Everyone owns a bag or two right? A child is taught not to put the bag on their face/head and not to do that to anyone else, or it could result in them getting hurt or killed right? So, by the logic that is being used by the anti-gun people, we should outlaw bags? Yes, it is that simple, and it does sound that stupid.

OK

Now that I got all of that out,  I will conclude with this : Don't be a douche. Educate yourself. Ignorance is not bliss, it makes you look stupid.

Awkward first blog post... done!

So, this is the blog world. Opinions are many, and facts are always up for interpretation depending on who they come from. Being as this is my first post, you may be asking yourself, why am I reading this? Why do I care what some chick that is just a stay at home mom and wife has to say? What is soo special about this blog that is going to set it apart from the rest? Well, I can't give you a specific answer to those questions because, well, I'm not you. What I can do though, is try to write as best as I can and make this (hopefully) a healthy combination of entertainment, help, insight, and information.

I have a wide range of interests, things that just tick me off to the tenth power, make me cry, make me laugh, make me say "WTF", and much much more. In this blog I will touch on everything, and everything is open to discussion. I am who I am, whoever that is. Also, critics beware, I don't care what you think of me or my opinion, I have been through hell and back in my life, as long as your criticisms are respectful and address the content and not me personally, we will get along just fine.

Now, a bit about me. I am 31 years old as of today, but if anyone asks I'm only 29 ;) I have 2 kids, a 14 year old boy we will call Stretch, and a 10 year old girl we will call Dramatude. My son just turned 14 in June and he is roughly 6f 1in (I am only about 5-3), that is why I call him Stretch, and my darling daughter is 10 going on 20, she has an attitude that won't quit, and has a flair for the dramatic, therefore, Dramatude. I have been through a lot in my life, I will get into all of it I'm sure at one point or another. My husband is great, he makes me laugh, treats me good, and sometimes I would love for his face to get intimate with my fist, but I love him just the same and wouldn't trade him for the world. I am an open book, ask and I will tell. I absolutely can not stand liars, and two faced fake people. I am Bipolar (no, really, not joking about that one) my upswings aren't very up, and my downswings are the worst. I am a smart ass, and sometimes my words get me into trouble. I get anxiety attacks when I leave my house most of the time, which makes things difficult at times.

I am here to offer support, advice, maybe a laugh or two, and just all around to talk to people. So let me know what you want to talk about.. nothing is off limits! I will do my best to post daily. So until next time, don't do anything I wouldn't do.. oh wait, you don't know what that is yet... Have to keep you on your toes!