167 Days ’til 40: Coping with Restlessness

167 Days 'til 40: Coping with Restlessness.


I’m not giving up….

I started a new blog at http://thesidekickhero.wordpress.com/ please check it out.

My Little Cuddler

We spent the last few days in my parent’s town watching the Greatest Show on Earth. We had great eats, a fun time and shared a snow-cone.

My grandfather is not well and his son and daughters are concerned mainly with getting him to eat and drink. He doesn’t want to, so he probably won’t. We are not a family filled with people who are easily persuaded to do anything we don’t want to. I told that to a pastor once and he came up with idea after idea of times I might do something even though I didn’t want to and he wasted an half hour of his life. I’m “better” now and listen to people such as my husband (sometimes) and as a mom, the kind of mom that wants to do right by her kids, I do stuff I don’t want to sometimes, but not a whole lot of the time. I used to try and let her be free to wear whatever she wanted and dance whenever she wanted. Now those things happen automatically. I know there are some of you out there that say I spoil the girl. I think that kind of put-down is a cowardly sort of persuasion. I left her do what she would like, because a lot of the time it’s easier for me. I try to catch moral situations and I don’t let her lie. (I admit I can’t always catch a lie, though.)

Let’s talk again about re-newing the blog. I think I’m going to try one out and see how it goes. Look for me at: http://thesidekickhero.wordpress.com/. I will probably continue this blog as well, but not as frequently. I do hope you love hearing about all the wonderful things that come with life with all our challenges and joys.

desperately seeking malakoa

I haven’t been well lately.  I felt like I had an ax chop my heart in to four efficient slices.  If you do it right, that’s the way trees come on down.  I feel nausea right now and it’s because I took my multi-vitamin without enough food.  I had goat’s cheese and cherries for breakfast.  Enough for all the tiny pills I take, but not for those big ‘ole vitamins.  I got gummi vitamin-B complexes and those got rid of most of my vomiting.  I was throwing up most mornings. (Like, five mornings a week.)  The strange thing is that it never came to me to stop taking the pills.  They were making me sick, but I still saw them as my life boat.  I never thought that I could just drop them.  If I didn’t take them I most surely would die,  and would take my daughter with me.  There are folks out there who can be bipolar and not take meds, but I am utterly convinced I will never be one of them.

My husband has said for a while that I can be awfully cruel when I’m having an episode.  I say and do things that no one should do.  I fought off that thought because I wanted to have my own life and feelings apart from being manic depressive.  Why is it it’s my illness and not just me? Can’t I be a jerk now and again.

It turns out, no.  I cannot be that kind of jerk now and again.  

Oh, I can be selfish and eat all the ice cream left in the freezer.  I can turn the radio up really high without thinking about who can hear it and I can get in fights and make plans to get the heck out of here.  But that is not what he meant.

We had a very nice fight about two, maybe three, weeks ago.  I remember very little about it.  A few days afterwards we were arguing (rather than fighting) and he replayed some of the things I said to him.


I kind of remembered some of the topics we covered, but it was like being very drunk.  I am sort of present, but I couldn’t remember whose lap I sat on or even who I spent the evening with.  I don’t remember the beginning nor when I crossed over to the monster I become while full blown manic.  I was not an angry drunk, just a curious one.  I can’t say that I am not an angry manic depressive.  

I said things no one should ever say and at the time I meant every single word of it.  If my husband treated me the way I treated him he would be long gone, no question.

never want to do that to him or anyone else.  There are signs before I get to those places.  I start snapping at people and mad enough to plan on running away from home.  In these bizarre fantasies my daughter comes with me; I promised her I would never leave her behind and I wouldn’t.  Those plans are born of imbalanced chemicals.  My husband is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but he is good to me and good to our daughter most of the time.  He doesn’t deserve to hear the things I said.  

Just a few days ago, he said to me, “I desperately want to stay married to you.”  For the life of me I can’t figure out why.  I am (or have been – if I’ve really changed I don’t know yet.) abusive and lazy.  I do nothing around the house for days (weeks) at a time.  The list of what I do and what I am that is cruel, and wrong goes on and on and about a third of this is caused by my mental illnesses.  

 2/3 = 66%

Am I worth it?


I woke up this morning to a little face telling me she couldn’t find her swimsuit, and that remembering when she last had it was frustrating.

I can bet it’s not as frustrating as being awakened by a seven year old’s face.

They both do it to me, my husband and my child.  They wake me up at any hour for any reason.  My husband wants to know where the laptop is, my child wants to know where everything she has ever owned is.  

I feel hungover from not getting enough sleep.  I am so tired that I can hardly understand any of this.


Okay, first of all, I hate taking pills. I do, dutifully, and I know it keeps me both feet outside of the psychiatric floor. I go to the doctor, I fill the prescription and I spend upwards of $100 a month on them. I have very good insurance or that would be closer to $1,000 a month.

Because my brain fights back, however, I am prone to Serotonin Syndrome. That’s when you’ve got too much serotonin in your brain. It is generally caused by taking anti-depressants, and it can kill you. I’ve had it three times. Once it put me in to an outpatient program and the other just put me in bed for three days. I already feel like my brain has squeezed out all of the good feeling hormones and given me a head ache.

I hate this.


I got a call from the bad man. This guy calls and tells you that he is receiving error messages from my Windows Computer. He asks me how I am. I tell him that I don’t want him to call here anymore and he shouldn’t try to hurt people, that it was bad. Then I hung up, to the chimes of my husband and daughter, “Who was that?” “What was that about?” I already talked to one of his compadres months ago. I searched the phone number (1-999-910-0122, if you feel lonely). They tricked others out of money and time and that is just not good. I suppose I could do like my brother does and string people along – if he gets a message from England asking for $1,000 my brother offers him $3,000 and says they’ll set up a benefit concert for him. I would die laughing if I tried that sort of thing, but he is a pro. I’ve seen him call HSN and ask questions until they hung up on him. Then he’ll call back and say, “The last person I talked to was so rude.” They will engage him until he is tired of them and hangs up the phone. I am not sure I endorse the wacky calls to HSN – those people have jobs, but getting the swindler’s hair on their necks to stand up – well, in my opinion, that is too lovely.

Does anyone read this?

Things are better these days with my husband right now. I suppose that is why I haven’t spent as much time blogging. I decided to be “nice” to him. I don’t like the word “nice”. I think it implies boredom and perfection – perfection is something I can tolerate only in God. (Which is good, as it is also the only place anyone can find it.)

So he is happy, I am happier and I am in bed listening to Small take a bath. She hates baths, but if she wants to dig in the mud like a puppy, she has to take a bath afterwards.