Tag Archives: christmas

Working is hard work

I’ve been working sporadically, but determinedly. Today I did an all day in a kindergarten class room with a sweet, intelligent teacher. The school is an inner city school and I’d put Small in her room in a snap. Remember Small’s kindergarten teacher? If you don’t, I won’t refresh you. It was that bad.

It’s dress rehearsal tonight. Seven year old Small is the lead. She sang a teaser to the congregation last Sunday and we got comments like “She should sing in the ensemble” (the church’s worship band). Everyone said she did a good job and in the second service she didn’t miss a note. The director of the play said, “Without Small, there would be no play”. So we’re proud and it may be that Small will have the acting career I dreamed of. I have never pushed her towards this. I think there is too much heartache, but she hasn’t had any of that so far. And she doesn’t know Carolyn Robertson.

But still, when I see her up there, the only actor who speaks with any sort of expression, the only one signing solos, the sweetest singer, the glowingish skin, my face beams. She’s all those things, and more than that, she is the one who is mine.


Those thoughts

My head blowing up.  Strangulation.  Echos of words from past lovers and friends that hurt, or disgust.  Flashbacks and regret.  Focusing on this I can never change.  Gun shots.  They come here like a game of 56 card pick up.  There is no stopping them however much I try to dwell on the book of Phillipians.  Life last night led to all this and more.  Have you been there?  No?  Well, welcome to the land of intrusive thoughts.

For whatever reason, I’m having bipolar flare ups this month.  Maybe it’s the evil one, and maybe it’s just that my doctor is in Pakistan and my psychologist (also doctor) is on vacation.  I have no professional support.  I have a supportive husband who tells me to exercise.  I have a little girl that keeps asking me to read things to her.  (Right now, and it’s bugging me, doesn’t she know I’m doing “The Lord’s Work”?).  I say that tongue in cheek.  I have a condescending mom and a guilt-ridden father.  I can write bad things about them all day long when I’m in this sort of state.

I threw up this morning, and did on Friday, too.  Once in between.  My first thought was either a reaction to too many vitamins, or a flu, but I’m only sick in the mornings.   Second thoughts were, “Might I be pregnant?”  My husband had a vasectomy five months ago, but we never went back and got it checked.  Until a couple of days we were scrupulous about birth control.  Although this baby would be welcome, it would be a difficult thing to do.  I would have to go off my meds completely, which would make, probably several trips) to the hospital necessary.  I don’t know how it works here but a doctor in my old town recommended electro-convulsive therapy.  That makes memory loss permanent, some times.  I’m just not sure about any of this.  I don’t feel like I need to be right now, let’s keep my head in the sand.

Now, back to those thoughts.  Stress is flaring up. People are at their worst and expectations only make things sadder and angrier.  I am trying so hard to be normal.  I don’t want to react to the baiting and pity I get.  I don’t need the first and don’t deserve the second.

I’m still making the presents which are “due” in two days.  I did finish what I had needed for today for our little family’s celebration.  I got annoyed at my husband but not too bad.  He is a person that does things his own way.  My expectations have made me very unhappy.  I readjusted them.  Things are better now.

Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight

I posted something similar on facebook, but this is the expanded, non-watered down version.

I take a lot of pills everyday.  Psychiatric meds, vitamins, it’s gotten to between 15-25.  (I don’t care enough to count.)  It’s a ‘normal’ part of my life.  Small often asks about them I say, “they are so mommy can be well.  Don’t ever even touch them.”

For some reason the other day we got engaged in conversation about my disabilities.  I told her that everyone was special, but my brain was extra special and different than most other people’s brains.

“You mean like Rudolph?”  She asked, not even looking up from her project.

“Yes, just like Rudolph!”  I’d never put those two together before, but what a perfect analogy.

My favorite kids movies are those like James and the Giant Peach.  Despite the failings of good adults and bad guys, the child becomes the hero.  I think that a lot of kids are waiting to the time they can step up and save the city, rescue the child or make a really good pot of soup for homeless people.  If they had the opportunity they could show everyone what their potential really looks like.

I don’t think that I have let that dream go.  I felt like I was flying some days when I was teaching the severely developmentally disturbed teens, but not knowing how to land (Think Greatest American Hero) I could have done better.  When I’m writing I feel like I’m living up to something, a lot of the time.  I think my ‘dream job’ as MFT would really press in to the wounds I have and those that have healed.

It just occurred to me how much of that stuff looks like Jesus.  He’s the one Thomas asked to put his fingers through the nail-holes in His Hands.  It took proof of His injury for Thomas’ faith to be healed.  Most people I know with mental illnesses do not feel free to even mention it in a social situation, let alone a work one.

The Bible  says, “by His stripes we are healed.”  This came up first in Isaiah and later was quoted in the Gospels.  I’m thinking how great a salvation and healing came from His pain.

Some of the following arguments come from here:  http://www.abideinchrist.com/selah/jul27.html

he apostle Paul tells us that we shall be included in the radiance of the coming glory, which will put into perspective the present sufferings we experience. “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18).

As co-heirs with Christ (vv. 15-17) we are recipients of all spiritual blessings now (Eph. 1:3), and in the future we shall share with Him in all the riches of God’s kingdom (Jn. 17:24; 1 Cor. 3:21-23). In Romans 8:15-18 the apostle is stressing the assurance of the believer’s salvation, and in doing so says if we are true Christians we will also suffer with Christ. We will participate in Christ’s sufferings if we are believers. Being co-heirs with Christ requires that we share in His sufferings (Jn. 15:20; Col. 1:24; 2 Tim. 3:12; 1 Pet. 4:12). After suffering with Christ the believer will share in the glory of Christ (2 Tim. 2:12; 1 Pet. 4:13; 5:10).

There is no sharing in Christ’s glory unless there is sharing in His suffering. However, at the same time we must keep clearly in mind we do not contribute to the saving work of Christ Jesus such as the expiation, propitiation, reconciliation, and redemption. Only the sinless Substitute could ever accomplish such efficacy. Christ alone redeemed us by His blood.

However the apostle Paul does make it clear there are non redemptive sufferings from which the sufferings of the children of God are to be classified with the sufferings of Christ.”

(the end of quotations)

I think a key to get to live in the blessing of His life, or really, any life, is to be prepared.  I, for example,  am prepared to speak with people who don’t believe psychiatric drugs are something good, Godly or sane.   I can share in the sufferings of my precious readers and friends who are dealing with either schizophrenia or just having a bad day.  None of these pretty little blessings could be mind without living through the blessings.  A dear sister of mine laughed at (with?) me for the way I validate feelings.  I giggled.  I think if you met me in person I wouldn’t be a “validating feelings” kind a gal, but maybe I could.  I’ve changed a lot since I last scrutinized myself that way.  These experiences, the times in the hospitals, the DBT training, the psychologists and the psychiatrists with their endless handfuls of pills have given me scars.  But I’ve had Him along side me, and later he chose to teach me with them.  It’s worth the pain.

2nd to last thing.  My husband was trying to teach me how to jump on top to a 18″ box from the ground.  I could do it holding his hand, but when he took it away, I was too scared.  Typical, right?  Well, what was atypical is that I had my five year old right there.  I held her hand and could jump up just fine.  Is that how the presence of God works?  When we’re safe in the heart of our families we can do things we can’t do alone?

I want my family to be like that.  I want us all to work towards finding out what’s different and special and weird about each other so we can be ready to lead that sleigh.

Just waiting for that foggy night….

Late nights

I was up before one today.  I was sent to bed at 9, but stretched it to 9:30, because I had Christmas stuff to do.  The presents feel like a train wreck.  My sister-in-law was madly and completely in love with this guy in Michigan.  She was prepared to move out there so they could be closer and live together.  The whole thing ended in her calling the police and changing her phone number.

We (I) bought her this adorable tea set, it fits for two, which, of course, would be totally acceptable.  Now, it would just be rubbing her face in it.  She is the type of person who would take that quite seriously and be extremely put out and pissed off by it.  So no tea-pot for her.

Back to being asleep by nine.  Mr. Malakoa came home from school, only to find a quite perky wife.  I wasn’t bounding off the walls, but he was seeing signs of hypo-mania.  I hate it when he does that.  I feel like I know myself, thank you very much, and I have the right to determine what I do and how I handle it.  The worst thing about it is that I am wrong and he is right.  Sleep is a great way to treat all the phases of bipolar.  It’s easier to do so when depressed, but when I’m manic, when I have trouble falling asleep, it’s still possible.  Needing less sleep, for example, getting up at 1 o’clock, is a sign of hypo-mania.  So Mr. Malakoa is right.  And that annoys me.

(Feeling like I’m over-using commas today.)

I’m working on a book about my grandmother.  She was an extra-ordinary person.  She was well loved, admired and a beautiful person.  When she was young she looked like Gloria Swanson.  She went to Hooters and said she didn’t mind it because when she was younger she looked better than (the waitresses).  I believe she probably did.  They must have made quite a couple, he was dashing and she was gorgeous.  They must have caused a ruckus where every they go.

There are two of the grandchildren who caught those beautiful genes.  My cousin, L, and my brother, J.  L looked like one of the girls off of “American’s Top Model”.  My brother gets asked for his autograph when he’s in L.A.  The rest of us are not necessarily ugly, but we are probably average to slightly above average.  Some obnoxious person once told me, “you’re beautiful on the inside, and that’s what counts.”  It ticked me off.  I believe she was comparing me to one of Mr. M’s ex-girlfriends.  The ex-girlfriend was psycho, though.  And she cheated on him.  And it’s the inside that counts.

Am I rambling?  I feel like I am.  But, it’s my blog and I’m free to do whatever I want to do, and write whatever I want to write.  My printer has been broken for a long time and I am frustrated by that.  I wrote two beautiful letters to my grandfather and great aunt and uncle and I’d like to be able to print them out, as they are a part of their Christmas presents.  I don’t want to wait.  I wrote such a letter to my grandma and it was in transit the day she died.  Everyone else read the letter, without my permission.  They read it at her funeral.  I hope that my grandfather and great aunt and uncle don’t think they’re dying and that’s why I wrote the letter.  I don’t want any part of that.

Well, that’s all for tonight. I have a precious friend who has offered to help keep up the blog for me.  I truly appreciate her help.  Look forward to hearing from her.

high school sweethearts – or not

Once, long ago, I was passionately in love, or at least I thought I was, with this boy, “G”. It was as very ugly situation. He had a girlfriend and he wanted to “have his cake and eat it too” to use his own words. We spent a whole day making out while he was still with her. For a long time I described that as the worst thing I ever did to anyone. He had to chose between us and he chose her. about a year later they broke up and almost immediately he asked to marry me. I said, “when?” He said, “whenever you’re comfortable” He asked me repeatedly and I said “no” over and over. Eventually I broke up with him and he had a nervous breakdown and moved to Alaska. I’ve heard he lives in Fresno now and is married without children.

here is my problem. after I just met him he asked me if I “got what I wanted for Christmas.” It struck me as a juvenile question and it still weirds me out. I told him that I didn’t like Christmas presents because my parents used them instead of love. I think I meant that at the time, even though now I can see it wasn’t true. It must have been very difficult for them to deal with a bipolar child, not yet diagnosed. I begged my mom for counseling and repeatedly she told me I didn’t need it. Because of the pressure that comes from the holidays I must have been a terror and extremely difficult to placate. But that’s a different story.

When I asked him what he wanted he said, “I want my friends to be happy.” This, I think, is what ed me off so much. It is hopelessly co-dependent, for one. It’s also a fake sort of altruism. He doesn’t want material things, he just wants us all walking around like Stepford.

Anyway, his voice, the telephone humming in the back ground, all of this I can’t get out of my head. I’ve gotten over hating this guy, I honestly don’t care about him or his life. But I cannot get his stupid question out of my head. Why would be act like that? What is it about him that made me want him so much. Was it his looks? I thought he was gorgeous and put up a lot because of that. He wasn’t stupid but he, I believe, deliberately flunked out of UC Santa Barbara and then City College. He’s a paramedic now. I truly wish him well, but I can’t get this out of my head.

Maybe I’ll be able to forgive him after I write all of this. I hope so. I don’t want that man to interfere with another Christmas.

“”Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:16