Tag Archives: relationships

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.

Wow.

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?

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I’ve Got a Rock

I’ve got a rock in my belly in the form of a Devil’s Food Glazed Doughnut. Why did I do it? I do not know. But it’s too late to undo.

I spent the morning with Dr. RH, PhD. We discussed important things and not so much important things. First of all, she wanted to know about Marriage Counseling by Dr. PP, PhD. I told her it felt productive. I asked some questions about the way the brain is made, and did she think it was possible bipolar was caused by brain damage found in the amygdala, the emotional center of the brain. She said probably not and that we will never know. If there is a problem with the brain, it is probably caused my the neuro-transmitters faulty firing.

She asked about my goals in our one-on-one therapy and she gave me a Career Assessment Inventory. I’m going to bring it back and she’ll send it to the company so they can process it. I’m also to organize my business paperwork and bring it so she can see it.

Personal goals in therapy and relationships and life:
Think before I speak and speak kindly
Take care of my body with exercise, yoga and thoughtful eating
Support and love and care for my family – help them work towards making all their dreams come true.
Find meaningful, productive work and do it diligently- consider whether the book will qualify and if so, when?
Be able to follow Jesus by following principles he put in to place.
Organize tangible things in such a way I can find them and use them later.
Make beautiful things that people are happy to see.

More later.


The Family Tree Project

There are a lot of problems with the Family Tree Project. It’s not Mr. B’s, Small’s teacher’s, fault, but I am just uncomfortable with the entire idea.

When they assigned it to my aide’s daughter, she called it nosy. I don’t have much of a problem with that – but can see there are times when revealing my past would not do me well. When I worked in the capitol, I would introduce myself using my first and last name – both are rare. Occasionally someone would scrunch up their nose and try to think where they had heard the names before. The Capitol’s major and I share the same name, and that was probably why, but once or twice I said, “you don’t know anyone I’m related to.”

Now, fifteen years older, I see that was a snotty thing to say. While my parents were state employees, stirring around in law enforcement and tax evasion, my paternal grandfather was a tom cat, sprinkling the rest of us around the country. He was guilty of a lot of poop and I have never met him, nor will I ever. The man is dead, and lays in a pauper’s grave in the town my father grew up in.

My maternal grandfather was a carpenter. My grandmother was an artist. I have no shame that comes in that, but I do not bear their name. I can’t brag that I am one of them as soon as I am introduced to someone new. Those grandparents will take up a large amount of my daughter’s family tree. Their children might be another story, one being a leech and another a meth user. In my own recovery, though, I have met many an addict that is a genuinely good person who happens to have some serious problems that they solve (or don’t) using drugs. I am naive enough to believe the drugs I take are different than the drugs they do.

Enough for now. Monday my husband and I start marriage counseling. We’re dropping the baby at 3:30 and the sitter will have her until 7. Will keep you up to date.


Just Married! (For ten years)

I’m up and down.  Therapy is going well and my husband and I are going to go to marital counseling and he is cool with it.  Last time we had any sort of family therapy the social worker said she’d never met such resistance.  There wasn’t resistance, it’s just that my husband is shy and very private I  keep some things to myself. I’ll participate in therapeutic groups, but I am guarded.   My new psychologist pointed out that every time she tried to steer things about my marriage I guided that boat away.  I went to a counselor and I didn’t bring my husband up for over a year and she respected that.  Not exactly relevant and we will see how therapy goes.  We have been on three dates in the last two and a half.  It’s kind of ridiculous.  If I’m not on top of things we don’t spend any time alone at all.  Ah, I’m complaining.  

 
I wonder if you read the Break (the blog entry above this one).  I may do the yoga tonight as prescribed and I really hope I do.  It’s the only time I feel in control.  I don’t know how spending 30 minutes  doing one thing effects your whole day.  I have a good idea how a pill or a drink do, though.  It might be the same with the exercise.  I’m sure there are people I could ask (hello, Hubo?) but I don’t want to know.  Not now anyway.  I feel like I need to get my lifer in order.  I just realized that I say that all the time, and that I do not know what it means.  It meant getting my weight under control and reading my Bible.  It’s time to re-evaluate.  I don’t know exactly where to start.  My work book given to me by my therapist is about automatic thoughts and emotions and how to look at things reasonably.  I’m not so great about that, but everyone has a place to start, right?  The psychologist said I was better off than a lot of her other clients.  I did creative things, had good organizational skills and worked towards getting well.  A lot of hers just lay on the couch and watch t.v. all the time.  I remind myself of this.  It is possible for me to be better, but my life is worth living.  I just want more from it

Can’t we all just get along?

When I hear a woman say, “I just don’t get along with other women,” I instantly realize this a woman with serious issues.

There are seven billion people on earth. Slightly more than 3.5 of them are women. This means, after all the women in the world, you have a problem with all of them?

The last time I heard a woman say that I told her something like that. She didn’t like it, of course. I am still glad I said it. She told a client of hers the same thing and the client responded, “Well, of course you don’t get along with women, women are difficult to get along with.” Shortly after that her client was asked to leave the business permanently. Good thing her philosophies were the one the woman chose to adhere to. Are we all that blind?

I’m well today, thank you for asking. I did a twenty minute yoga practice, went to church and drank caffeine. This evening I will also do yoga and meditate using sacredspace.ie A wonderful site put together by the Irish Jesuits. I feel better, I’m not perfectly whole, yet, but that is something we can hope for only on the other side of heaven.


A Lovely Baby Shower

I just deleted the “vent” post. I had a very nice baby shower here today, that’s why I went in to the psyche of a particular party guest and all her insipid ways. I am just tired of it, ya know? And there seems no end in sight. Ah! There is no end in sight. Thankfully they are the kind of people that move on purpose. We do not move on purpose. We stay put on purpose. That is why I’ve lived six places in the last ten years. I would have died happily in our little cottage in our city. That’s not the way it works.

I don’t want to vent. But I wish this woman came with a warning label. She’s like a German Sheppard. Fine one minute, the next. I need to fire her but haven’t done it yet. I’m still emotionally involved, and I think that it’s at least someone reasonable to stay that way. (Of course I’m talking about LN. If you didn’t pick that up yet.)

I will probably vent tomorrow. It struck me just now that I am afraid someone is going to read this and tell her and all hell will break lose. What do I care, really? Do I not want readers? Have I been unfair? One sided? (yes, one sided.)


Not so much giving today (G)

Sure, it’s only one-ish, but so far I haven’t done anything more giving than letting the guy in the car to the left of me in a four-way stop the opportunity to go first. Generous, right?

I spent the morning at Weight Watchers, where I am down .8 pounds. “They” want you to lose between .5-2 pounds a week. So, I’m on track. Good because for the later half of the week I did not tracking and ate two pieces of Oreo Cheesecake. If that sounds disgusting, that’s because it is. After Weight Watchers T and I went to Barnes and Nobles and looked at books on color and paper. It was a pleasant three hours, and I love that T has the time to spend and wants to with me. I found a wonderful book on creating cards and that took me all that time to get through. It is one of those books that I could spend another three hours garnering ideas from. Maybe I will go back with T next week. Or maybe we will eat pizza and finish it off with Coldstone. (All within walking distance from Weight Watchers, of course.)

What can I give today? I’m just not good at it. I’m good at asking other people to give. T bought the coffee. A few seconds ago I texted LS to see if she could watch Small during the parent/teacher conference tomorrow. I am prepared to hear that Small is average in all her subjects and runs her mouth. But maybe there will be surprises.

Back to the giving. Is cleaning the house a form of giving? Making gifts? Talking to my mostly deaf father?

During the writing of this blog, my dad called. He he can’t hear very much at all, but he can think. Interestingly enough, a few times we’ve been in a group conversation, and I’ll say something. The next thing out of his mouth is a very close paraphrase. My dad is a very smart, wise, deaf man. To be on the wavelength where he’s thinking is almost an honor.

I have to look out for something to do for someone today. Grrr. I didn’t think this would be so hard. I am just discovering how self-centered I actually am.