Latest Posts by confessionsofabipolarbaker - Page 2

Yessss

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Been playing with this concept for a while.

I promise I will try...

Share your story so others know they are not alone

Very nicely done!

Another version of the pictures, less photo manipulation , I just combined them to create “Never Grey”.

I think this is a great self portrait because it portrays the duality of my emotional state in which I’m constantly experiencing . The battle within. Swinging from one extreme pole to the other. The bipolarity that is at times creative and colorful and then on the other hand devastatingly dark .

Here’s a short poem to go with it.

//Never Grey//

She is both me. She is We.

Wide-eyed , Full-hipped Bitten lip, And Naturally Unhinged On both ends.

Swaying Always Swaying In no direction At all.

Who could withstand Such colorful chaos?

I can barely Climb The wall

Two pieces ,One mouth A mirror reflection of a stranger Defeat rides translucent , upon victory’s coattail .

She slithers in silk Mostly the spine in protest, Burning in the cools where Dark and Light coexist

Finding it hard to live In the neutrals of gray

It’s easier to swim, But sinking can be more Intriguing .

Perverse And pure, Like Pressed Pain hiding Behind Pleasure.

Vulva mind, Choice words for a Lady, So wet and so Cut dry.

Within the soul Appears the sweeter of Angels, While she’s holding the Pitchfork behind .

Who is she ? When I cannot protect Me from me.

She is never grey, Colors changing From day to day.

-Dee

Yes.

Just getting it out there

Sorry I’m gonna say this but people who joke about mental illnesses get right on my tits, the weather isn’t bipolar, you’re not anxious because your strawberries are going off and you have to eat them, and you don’t have depression because you couldn’t afford the shoes you want.. It’s 2015 and there’s still so much stigma.. Depression is a real dark place to be, bipolar isn’t as black and white as mood swings and anxiety disorders stop you doing the simplest things like going out by yourself, I have all three and before judging and taking the piss, educate yourself because you’ll never know what it’s really like until you or someone you love has been through it! This year for me has been the hardest most draining and the worst my illnesses have ever been.. You wouldn’t joke about cancer so don’t joke about mental illness because it’s no ones fault and sadly they both take lives, trust me I wouldn’t wish this one worst enemy! It’s a daily battle and I had to get this out there because people are so insensitive.

Yup

So strange

This High. This has lasted for so much longer than the ones before I’m starting to wonder if it’s really me… Like, is this who I’m going to be? Am I back to being the upbeat and energetic and go go go person I used to be?… Or am I waiting for the other shoe to drop?

I’m not saying I don’t like it- it’s just strange… This waiting. I was waiting for a month, then two. Now it’s been four. And I’m still pretty okay. I mean, my High catches me sometimes - hence the last post about being intoxicated. I hammered that nail in deep. Super unlike me… I’ll do a good buzz on occasion, but word slurring, stumbling up stairs, hangover drunk? It’s been a long while.

So there’s one sign that maybe my High isn’t so good. Or maybe it’s a sign that it IS.

I’m still unable to put away laundry, clean dishes, hair bows or earrings in any sense of a timely manner. I’m still unable to process the fact that my forced speech makes others uncomfortable and look at me like I’m speaking in tongues. I can’t help myself from interrupting others’ conversations… I can hear it, I can feel it, I know I should just shut it— and, yup, there- there it goes. Out of my mouth. I think about things obsessively… People, projects, things I’ve said wrong, things I should have said. The hamster is not merely spinning in its wheel, it’s running an airplane engine. I want to write… I want to get all of this out of my head and down and just be done… And then another thought comes and I need to write more… If I don’t go now, I might not stop tonight.

So I never told you

Long ago and far away, in a blog about an eon ago, I said someday I’d write about the evil things my mother in law has said to me that certainly we not warranted nor appreciated, rather encapsulated exactly the kind of self righteous person she is.

…About five days into my ordered detachment from my three month old daughter after having delusions of grandeur within my postpartum depression, I asked said MIL if she could bring my daughter to come see me. With the load of Zoloft I was on I was neither able nor legally allowed to operate any machinery. In my case, the microwave was difficult enough.

phone Can you bring her over please? Maybe a little later, just so I can see her today.

*Heavy SIGHhhhhhh*… I just do not understand whyyyy you. are. not. capable of caring for your. only. child. I *indignant as all hell IIiIiIiIiiIiIii I* had no. problems. raising threeeee boys, practically on my own. And you can’t handle this sweet child? She’s not difficult, you know. It’s you that’s being difficult.

*inhale- realize painfully that she HAS MY DAUGHTER.* Never (fucking) mind. …I’ll have my mom bring her tomorrow. Thanks for your help. *CLICK*

Good stuff right?

Then there was that time, four years later, when I was leaving Inpatient… 1- My loving (read: what the hell was he thinking) husband sends HER to come get me. I don't think that "misunderstanding" will ever come to a close there. 2- she is told I need two hours notice, I’ll be ready at 3/330. She shows up at noon. Goddam NOON. I’m not even processed to leave yet, nor packed, nor did I finish my exit interview, nor say goodbye to my now Insiders… nor was I in any way psychologically sound enough to handle HER let alone HER EARLY. Then 3- she brought my daughter. She. Brought. My. Daughter. To my Inpatient Psych Discharge. Because, well, *heavy sighhhhhhhh*. Traffic will be so much worse at three, NOW is BETTER. … … …

And so with hot tears brimming, I say my hasty goodbyes, and spin around to my sweet, adorable, innocent baby girl rushing through three inch thick triple locked rebar enforced metal threaded glass paned doors to my arms… Her energy and force and love knock me to the ground. I never wanted her here, in this place, part of this memory. But now she forever is, in this place.

And all I want is to not be in this place.

At the car, the fresh air is beautiful- the view truly is pretty. An open pasture to the north, a steep upgrade of rock ledge to the south. Baby girl says Someday Mommy, when we come back here *my throat catches* can we climb these wrocks? The words tumble out, wanting to make her happy now no matter the cost Yes, Love, of course we can. Enter stage left *heavy sighhhhhhhhhhhhh* NUH UH, NOooooOoo. We are NOT coming back to THIS place ever again. Get in the car, I am taking you home.

My daughter, my saving grace in this moment, refuses to allow me to sit upfront- no mommy- wif me heeeeeerrrrre. In the back. I remember holding her tiny hand the entire fourth minute ride home... Just don't let her go... Don't let her go... Don't let go...

I just wanted to be invisible, at that moment more than any, I wanted to disappear. Somewhere in my heart, I knew I’d be back again.

Truth.

True.

Intoxicated

I am inebriated. Omg I spelled it.

Where am I?

*SI trigger warning Just in a weird place lately... I'm pretty sure I'm not High, and I know I'm not Low. But, this is a weird place. I said that, my bad. So anyway. Maybe still in a state of confused mourning?... Had a dear friend pass away, and it was super hard... Harder than I thought it would be. Harder not because of who he was, rather, who he hid he was. And then, how he passed. I couldn't believe it. None of us could. But then, to be there, among friends and coworkers and family... And I'll bet you I was one of maybe three that had any clue what he felt like ...before. I could sense in one friend. He felt it too close too. And another, he couldn't even go to the front to say goodbye- like he would physically be too close to "it"... The Event. The End. I did it... I went up. To the small, granite box, with his name engraved on it... I placed a dime on it- he always called me a Ten. It made me smile. So instead of a penny, which I used to do for all the old"er" people, it was a dime. I believe they should go whoever they are going feeling rich with simply a penny and their soul... Just me. Anyway... After a while, it was too hard to be inside. Fresh air. And a friend. Old friend. When we went through the service... There was a part... I just didn't get why it made me so angry. I hate religion in general, hate is a strong word, dislike immensely... But the pastor... I'll never forget it... "He was chased by demons. The demon is in this room. And today, we are going to give this demon a name. It is Suicide.".... And my heart stopped... More like cracked. Broke. Split apart, leaving a gaping serrated edge of a wound. Angry and angry, and what is a better word for angry?! Furious? Painfully angry, hurt, wounded. How dare he? How dare that man, who calls on the name of his god say that a demon took my friend?! It took me a good solid day to figure out why I was so mad. It wasn't a demon. It never was a demon. It's not a demon that does it... That makes us think those thoughts. ... It's hope. Hope that when we go we leave behind all the good we were in the world and don't leave the ugly, terribly, horribly wretch of a person we were at that moment. Hope that we get to move forward instead of sink. Hope that we can be done with all the feelings, all the not even kind of good feelings. Hope that there is love... Somewhere. Because at that moment, it's not a demon that possessed us.. It was hope... So yeah... I'm not sure where I am right now. Between the reality of thankfulness and the reality of what-could-have-been. Surreal. Is that a place? It should be.

Toasting a still alive garden. Salud!

So tired

I so tired of having the same damn fight with him. When I'm High, I can't put one foot I front of the other without concentrating on balance, equilibrium, pace, timing, weight, etc. I can't pick out am outfit- it takes me forty stages of preparation to get out the front door-- with the KID. And he says he feels like he gets the short end of the stick when I'm like that. No shit. You do. Trying to remember which pedal is gas and brake, which side is hot and cold, how does the door lock again? And you want me to what? What? What do you want from me? I asked you, I asked YOU specifically "I need you to tell me I'm going to be okay and I can make it though this day because it's really been a rough morning" and you say I need to get my shit together and toughen up bc we need to have a good year. I need to wha? Seriously. I'm not like you. I can't fight like you do. I don't have that in me. When the wave sweeps over me I can't control it, I wash out to sea with it, ride the tide until it brings me back again. I don't know how to swim, in that moment, I'm keeping my head above water. When I'm not High, I swim. I'm a goddam lifeguard rescuing other people, running down the waters edge yelling "I can help you- hold on!" When I'm High... I can't yell. I can't even cry out, or cry. I just can't do anything other than what is right effing in front of me. This. Boot. Here. Goes. In. This. Basket. This. Plate. Goes. Beside. The. Sink. Because I can't actually process opening up the dishwasher and organizing all the dirty dishes already IN the sink. You don't get it. You do get the short end of the stick, because I have NO stick. I have nothing tangible to hang on to. I breathe. That's what I have. Air. You are lucky to have a stick. You are a goddam adult, take your short stick, understand my meds take four to SIX WEEKS to kick in, and just ... I could be angry here... But all I want is patience. I went two months, sixty three days exactly, without my meds. They titrated me back up, 25mg a week, 50 mg the next week, and only then was I at my full 100 mg. One week ago, eight days. And tonite you say this past week has been a lot easier for you since I've been on my meds. For you. For me? ... Not so much. I'm not even halfway back. My head buzzes like bees. Thoughts scramble. Important things need written down. Remembering doesn't happen. I fight for each hour to keep my mouth shut and not say something stupid bc I don't have a filter. I drive and daydream about not stopping- just driving away... No idea where, just away. I forget the left turn. I forget to urn off the toaster oven so it smells of hot coils and toast when I wake up. I forget to ask if her homework was done and a meltdown ensues. But it's easier for you. So that's nice. I'm still out here in the waves. Waiting for a stick.

Back again- Confession

I'm in therapy. We talked about my past.... Did anyone notice me being "different". Maybe. But then I got thinking, there was a lot of mania in my life. Overachiever extraordinaire. Gifted. Accelerated college program in high school. Honor rolls in college. And then I remember some super stupid decisions. A one night stand at the beach. A one night stand with a rich mans son. While in a long term relationship I had an affair with my almost fiances' best friend, and them with him and his wife. I moved from east coast to west cost, and back again to New York, then to virginia. I remember never sleeping- parties and going out and meeting people. And them I met my husband and somehow he changed me... Or possibly, I had just come down off a two year High. My family said " he's good for you, he settles you down". And now, I lay here on the couch ... Alone. Because he had to "rescue" a friend... By taking her out for drinks, to distract her from her ex boyfriend being found unconscious, a pill bottle beside him, after she broke up with him. And my husband to the rescue. Did I mention she's a stripper he met at a club?... My bad. Missing piece. And yet, I let him go bc I don't want to start a fight- I'm High, and I say a lot of stupid things right now. I'm mad mostly bc he went to her so fast. Moments after her text, he's got a coat and his keys and he's gone. But I ask for him to say to me "honey, your doing a great job fighting this, your trying so head, I'm proud of you"... But instead I get " you need to get it together. We need to have a good year"... Awesome. I totally lost it- in text form of course bc I can't fun front him. And nine days later we still haven't talked about it. And with his rescue mission, now I don't want to. To top it off, we get to take my daughter to the hospital. Bc of my inpatient stint she has stopped going to the bathroom TMI. So now, she has the belly of an Ethiopian solid as a rock and a fever of101.3. I'm tired and wired... I want off this roller coaster. I took my first full dose of my med- back on after an insurance mishap that lasted two months. I'm praying I can be strong enough to let it kick in... Distraction tactics engaged. Maybe more writing later. Not sure when my husband will be home, you know, after going to the rescue of his stripper best friend. Sleep on that. Not.

Reblog

Reblog if you are always willing to help a follower in need. No matter who it is. Anyone can just message you.

remind me

to follow the book lead

to write as i took my pictures, for a timeline

to find my bio book notes... 

...so, it's been awhile...

i've been encouraged to write more.  i will do my best.  i'm starting late tonite, but i promise to try to get back and write more tomorrow.  i will have to test how long i can handle typing - long story, torn ligament, right wrist.  have to go put the kiddo down to bed.

wishing everyone else bunny dreams too.

blessings

namaste

yes.

Reblog if you are always willing to help a follower in need. No matter who it is. Anyone can just message you.

Scared.

I renamed this post three times... Petrified. Terrified. Frightened. Just plain scared. I am just plain scared. I am supposed to go back to work on Tuesday and I am just plain scared. I don't know that I'm ready. I know I'm not ready, who am I kidding. I can barely read a menu let alone the two hundred plus emails I have to go through and all the changes that I am sure they have made in two months since I've been out. I'm basically going back ready to fail. Ready to get fired. And guess? I don't care. Can you tell where my mood is? Yup. Still down. But I think this is what they call a mixed state- I can't keep a thought in my head, but I just don't have any energy to care. I have one more day of therapy in group to go to before Tuesday and I'm not terribly confident that I can express myself the way I want to... When I say I'm scared, I mean, I have spent the past three days with diarrhea, no appetite, and picked out three outfits to wear on that day back... No four. Changed my mind. I want the green striped sweater, my comfy sweater, to go back in... I can't seem to find a comfortable place in my own skin. My clothes irritate me, my stomach irritates me, my face irritates me, my house irritates me, even my kiddo- and i hate that the most. Everything I come I contact with bothers me in some way. I'm not ready but I don't feel like anyone is giving me a choice- even when they say they are... I don't know... Guess we just have to jump in with two feet and hope the water is deep enough that we don't break a leg...

my Elf

thanksgiving cookies…

So... My pm won't work since I haven't know you long enough yet- or my fan mail won't... Can you PM me? I'm horrible at blog stuff... Ugh!

Did ya find one? ...

Anyone wanna be my penpal? I’ll send you a ton of letters and shit.

I'm not on tumblr as much but I love to write... Lemme know :)):

Did ya find one? ...

Anyone wanna be my penpal? I’ll send you a ton of letters and shit.

Coming down...

I hate this feeling... I've said before "these mess are not helping me come down, they are not bringing me down... The are pushing and pulling and forcing me down"... I can totally understand why people with Bipolar Disorder go off their meds. These things suck. I'm still on the Lamictal and the Respirdal, ended the Seroquel and Klonopin. So only two meds now. I hate them both. The side effects are horrid. Blurry vision, stuffy nose, no sleep- or poor sleep... no appetite then only wanting to eat sugar or have coffee, weight gain, mind fuzzies... I can't read, can't comprehend, cant retain any information, no attention span... How much of these are side effects or just the disorder I'm honestly not sure. I just don't like feeling this way. I honestly think I feel worse coming down than i do in my High. I like my Up. I like the productive feeling. I get it, I might not actually BE productive, but maybe if you give me back my high I can figure out how to reign that in. Just let me feel better again. This apathetic place is just sad and too "normal" for me to handle. My friend said yesterday "oh so you poor thing, you have to be normal like the rest of us now" -- I don't WANT to be NORMAL. I want ME back... The me that was social and exciting and happy. That wasn't irritated and grouchy and negative thinking. How many times have I said to myself "I don't care" or "whatever" in my mind? Too many. But I DO care, and I want to care... I couldn't even get online to get on here to write because I didn't feel creative enough to produce... Hate that too. The creativity is like gone. Where did I go? And I blame the meds. Yes, yes I do. I will faithfully and blindly take them, but I hate them. I hear everyone say they will balance out, that I will find a balanced place on them... Prove it. Cause I just went from High to Low, no middle. ...

question

...how do i, or can i make folders for pictures?  thanks bunches all!

lessons learned...

so... today i have learned the following:

-that Lamictal sucks.  it takes away my high, it makes my nose stuffy and makes me eat like a pregnant heiffer...  that which i am not.

-that GAK must be made with Elmers glue... seriously.  it wont work with the cheap stuff.

-that homemade playdoh is a ZILLION times easier to make than Gak, and the kiddo loves it more.

-that i like my highs.  i get some *winks* and go to sleep late, sleep through the night, and wake up early at 630 refreshed, and can make-coffee-unfriend-120-FB-peeps-clean-the-bedroom-unmake-the-bed-put-the-blankets-and-pillows-in-the-wash-and-dryer-feed-the-frog-surf-pinterest-for-twenty-yoga-plans-and-scrub-the-toilets all within about an hour...

but when i take that d@mn Lamictal i freakin CRASH.  it was at 10 i finally took it, b/c i knew, i just KNEW it would kill my high.  and it did.  at 1220 i was telling kiddo to go watch some tv on the ipad and Mommee is taking a nap.  i slept for a whopping 30 minutes (who can sleep with a kid in the house, alone anyway?).  this is an evil drug.  hate it hate it hate it.  three hours later, it finally wears off  - "drivers, start your engines!... and they're off!"

i come out of the fog and make s'mores for the kiddo, drag her to the grocery store, pick up the four things i need, head over to the drug store for a return, go home, mangle the Gak recipe, and make three batches of play doh stuff.  and i realize i am brilliant- as i think of a zillion new yoga classes i can totally teach, invent a new seat cover for the kiddo so she doesnt burn her arse off in this heat, and plan out next years garden in our new home (which, of course, we havent actually bought yet... but i digress... ).  life is good - well, except for the whole stuffy nose thing, STILL.

again -i hate the Lamictal.  its worse than the Seroquel, which is going away next week (commence countdown- night 8... tonite).  i cant tell if the other one, the Risperdal -i hate spelling that- if its working or if its the one that chops me down.  although, i can totally pinpoint the two hour half life of the Lamictal... so im blaming it.  the good doc says that the hives are a sun sensitivity from both meds, and that my aches and pains are from the highs -HA!  i laugh at the thought.  tooooooooo baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.  i like my highs.  i said that.  oh well - i DO.

what else?...  ...  ... 

OH -i dislike immensely the saying that "you should do what you dislike doing first..".  only a-holes do this, i have decided.  i cleaned the upstairs bathroom- like, scrub-the-doorknobs-and-lightswitches-with-a-toothbrush cleaned.  i LIKE doing them - they are small, i know where everything goes, and it is DONE and i move on.  even the master bedroom is okay.  it is the dining room/office and living room i DESPISE.  there is just NOT enough room, and too much CR@P.  they are still not done.  neither is the laundry to put away (not even WASH, just put away!) or the sewing (yes, i mend things... when i want to be cheap... ). 

i have a brilliant idea again... i salvaged a tv stand from a front yard curb, and i am going to repurpose it as a scrap corner!  whahoo!!!  cant wait.  it is a project for my niece and i for the summer.  cant wait to pick out colors- i am thinking tiffany blue and black.  love that.  and i love blue, and black.  this also will be in my new house, in my new office and craft room.  oh - i do so love a good fantasy. 

okay.  rant closed.

My silhouette... By the Kiddo...

...she talks to angels... ...on our fridge.