In Reverence to Mental Health Month

The following is a journal entry I wrote today on having Bipolar Disorder and being in the middle of an episode. I thought it needed to be public.

I am lost. I’m sitting at my desk with a paper next to me and a couple of books in my head and I can’t figure out how to move my brain to address any of those issues. I’ve got a sudden longing to be home, raising my kids. But I can’t trust that any of my feelings are real. I was too trustful in 2007 when I dropped everything to return to the classroom so I could be nearer my children on holidays and Margaret could attend pre-k with me every day. I came home after the first day and wept, because I knew I made a huge mistake.

It worked out ok in the end. Everything does, really. Nothing stays horrible forever. But, God, was it horrible. I don’t know why my brain goes back there so often. I re-live the regret, the fear, and the shame of trusting feelings that were so strong, but still betrayed me in the end. And I feel bad for the students who got a really bad teacher that year.

I feel like I can’t trust anything right now. I’m afraid to take any challenges. I don’t know what I want, and today I’m not really sure who I am. I’m a tangle of hormones, neurons, medications, chemistry and biology, all mixing together in a bubbling cauldron. All of them plotting to keep me alive, or possibly destroy me at any time. They say treating mental illness is a delicate balance. They don’t explain that what it really means is that there is a small window of success and otherwise a whole mess of fear, loathing, loneliness, and paralysis.

There are things I know: I am relatively healthy and successful, I have everything I could ever need and then some. I have a supportive husband and smart, beautiful, and mostly well-behaved and well-adjusted children. But still my mind stirs and whirls in a tornado of expectations and false deadlines. My brain tells me I need to do everything. It tells me I want everything. It tells me I hate my job and love my job. It tells me I need to move to New England.

However, it also tells me I am enough. I do enough. I have enough.

I’d like to trust the positive assessments, but my mind has lied to me before, in spectacular fashion. I can’t trust it. It does not have my best interest at heart. It beats me down and then flatters me like an abusive spouse. It sets up a list of obstacles, disguised as achievements that I need to accomplish so I can be whole; then it steps on my shoelaces as I try to move forward.

I think I could trust the medication if I knew it was the one handing out the script, but the hormones and neurons and past experiences that trigger responses like Pavlov’s dog are wonderful actors. Wonderful frauds like the hypocritical preachers in mega churches that ask you for money and tell you you’re going to hell and that predict the end of the world on Tuesday or that God will strike them down unless they get a new Mercedes. So convincing, but never having your best interest in mind.

Such is bipolar disorder. It is always having to look over your shoulder (inside your head) and wondering if the thoughts you have are real or just the hype of a mania, or complaints of a depression.  It’s a constant worry that your medication may have betrayed you this time and you’re going to hedge a bet on false information. It’s never being able to trust yourself or find the real you. It’s being lost while knowing exactly where you are- or not…

Before and After

Scored a neat organizer from the best Grad Assistant in the world who is moving out to Oregon to change the world.  I think it looks much better than my previous system, which was "pile everything onto a cork board and pray it doesn't fall."

Sean suggested I paint it, and I just might.  I'll see if I can figure out how to make it look distressed first.

iPhone4 Case on the Cheap

My old, clear iPhone case was getting yellow so I figured it was time for a new one.  It's amazing how much people charge for these things.  So I broke out the old Mod Podge and some leftover Amy Butler scrapbooking paper I had lying around and covered the outside of the case.

 
The paper was double-sided, so it shows through on the inside.

 I covered the buttons and they still work fine.  I just covered between the holes for connections so I wouldn't have to cut them all out.  Of course, I cut out the oval for the camera hole.It hasn't really been kid-tested yet, but it seems like it's pretty sturdy.  The Mod Podge makes the case a little stiff, so it's hard to get the phone out, but not impossible.

Fake Cannonball

I'm a little late on this, but I'm taking a break from writing the grant from hell.  The research office is about to burn me in effigy because I'm causing them much headache.

Last week I read "The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker."  It's one of those where you see the ending coming right off, and the heroine was a little off-putting to me.  The romance was a lot better than Soulless, however.  The forbidden love was more believable and you were really rooting for them to get together, but Percy Parker was really a wimp.  I wouldn't expect Superwoman, but hell (spoiler) she really should have had more backbone considering her backstory.  Overall, it's a good read.  Finished it in one long night.

And, just for the hell of it, here's a Chupacabra.

Fake Cannonball

Last weekend I read Souless by Gail Carriger.  It's Steampunky supernatural and British, but there's no teenage angst.  The love affair misdirections between the two leads did take long to resolve, but otherwise it was a good, easy read.

And, here's some cake!
This was for my Aunt's wedding a few weeks ago. Yup, that's camo!

2 Books for the Fake Cannonball

I've been reading a bunch of comics, which is eating away at my regular reading time.
This week I did get to finish two young adult novels that were very gripping and well-written.  Both are by Neil Gaimon (well, one is Gaimon and some other guy I forgot.)
"The Graveyard Book" and "Interworld" I highly recommend.  They can be pretty scary and vary sad for a young adult novel, but I'm starting to realize kids can handle a lot more than we'd like to think they can.  I even suggested my mom, who teaches high school English, suggest these to her students as an antidote to all the damage Twilight has no doubt inflicted on their poor, impressionable minds.

Dear Tom Cruise

You are trying way to hard.  And, you are crazy. Please stop.
Sincerely,
s

6-Word Book Review: The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

Philatelist:
is not
what you think.

Bwa ha ha ha

One thing I like about decorating cakes is sometimes you get to play "mad scientist" and my sister Kayla's birthday this weekend was one such occasion.
Behold:

The Bleeding Armadillo

Yeah, I know.

The cake was red velvet, of course, so it actually looked pretty gross when it was cut.  I'll save you that image.  We were going for the groom's cake in Steel Magnolias.  (Don't tell anyone around here because they'll cut me, but I'm just not fond of that movie- although Shirley McClain's character was a hoot.)  Homemade marshmallow fondant, as usual.  I was very surprised at how fast it went.  Definitely one of my top five.

My Frankenstein

I made this scarf with some left over Noro.  I almost used a pattern, but I ended up making it up as I went along.  I cast on 5 sts.  Row 1- k, kfb,pm, k, kfb, k;

Row 2 and all other wrong side- knit or purl across; Row 3 and all other right side- k1, kfb, k to m, increase however you want, k1, increase, k to last 2 st, kfb, k1.  I alternated stockinette rows and garter rows.  On the wrong side, I also added eyelet rows of k1, {yo, k2tog} repeat, k1.