My History with Cars

I come from a long line of poor choice vehicles.  My parents have a knack for buying cars that are not the most durable or reliant.  I come by it honestly.

I bought my first car when I was 16 and it was a POS (piece of sh@t).  But it got me through my high school career and my first year or two of college.  Let me rephrase that, it got me through my first 2 years of being in Kansas.  I wasn't a college student for very long so I can't claim it as a career.

I bought a car when I was 23 and it was great!  It was newer, I took care of it, I loved it.  But I make a lot of rash decisions in my life.  Not just with cars but with other things too.  I want, when I want it, and how I want it.  And be dammed if you don't give me what I want.  And I've improved over the years!


Then I married a man that will research the hell out of EVERYTHING....so I couldn't just buy something.  But I was definitely able to manipulate the situation.  So really I had someone to blame when anything went wrong.  But I found that the Kennedy curse did not transfer ownership when I changed my name.  The ex was good luck. We had a couple cars and no issues with any of them.  He still has a truck that is over 12 years old and it's in pretty good shape.

As soon as the divorce was final, I decided that I needed a new car. New car, new start.  Well, the Kennedy Curse was back and she bitch slapped me.  I was on our classifieds website at work and just going through, killing time.  I pulled up this posting for a Land Rover Freelander.

Let me pause here and explain that I have wanted a Range Rover since I can remember.  The 95-99 era one.  Once it went into 2000 the body style went a little soft.  They were rounded edges and slanting.  The older version were boxy. Which is what I loved.  And I have to admit that the prestige of having a Range Rover was there too.  But I'm a realist and know that I will never have one.

So I thought the Freelander would probably be the closest to a Range Rover I would get.  Now, I did not need a car.  I had a perfectly (PERFECTLY FREE) car. It was really good shape, great mileage and no car payment.  But the minute, and I mean minute, I saw the Land Rover, I wanted it.  No...needed it.  I HAD to have it.  This is the impulsive nature of me.  I really need to run these types of things through people.

That was on Tuesday, I took possession of it on Friday.  I did not once actually see the car or ask any questions.  I did not know what type of gas it needed or when the last oil change was.  I had no idea if it actually had a motor. But I walked to the credit union at work on Wednesday and I got the check on Friday morning.  I followed the guy home and then we drove back to my place.  I had a Land Rover.

I had the car exactly 2 weeks when I had my first EVER accident.  It was totally my fault and insurance wanted to total it.  So, instead of asking people their opinion or what the ramifications would be, I opted to repair it.  I could have walked away with a little more then the car was worth and tried to find another car.  But I chose to fix.  Now I didn't know or even ask what that means.  When you total a car and then repair?  That makes it a salvage title.  I immediately lost all value of the car.  I could maybe be a grand for it.  I didn't realize this.

So I repaired it.  Took almost 2 weeks and I was paying for a rental car during this time.  Luckily the body shop cut me a pretty good deal and had enough to cover the rental car.  So I really learned nothing. I had to get it reregistered and found out how difficult it was to do that so I did kind of learn to not do that but only because it was a pain in the ass to get the DMV to do their part.

About 2 months later someone hit me in the parking lot.  Not my fault for a change but it was hit in the exact same place as my original accident.  That was another 2 weeks and this time I ended up paying for the rental car in total.  That was over $300 that I didn't have.

This is when the wheels start falling off.

I had to rewire the whole back end because something happened and the mechanic I used was incompetent with Land Rover vehicles and took me to the cleaner.  Not only did the back end need to be wired but the timing belt and some other belt needed to be replaced.  That set me back $5K.  Luckily my ex had just paid me my settlement for the house.  Again, God was covering for me a bit. But still....$5 frickin' K.

Then an oil change there was $75.  I quickly decided to not use that mechanic anymore.  But the dealership was less then helpful.  They actually told me to just buy a new Land Rover - the Discovery model because the Freelander was the throw away model.  Crap....

I drove around with my Check Engine light on for over 18 months.  It never exploded but it would do strange things sometimes.  Wouldn't start but nothing was wrong with the ignition.  It was actually a short in the dashboard and steering column. Awesome.

So back in April I had knee surgery.  This has nothing to do with the car issues really but I was home that week and I decided that I wanted to look at the Cubes.  I had not really seen them. I think I passed one or two in 6 months maybe.  But for some reason I choose to go check it out.  And I knew I had a ace in the hole because I took the ex with me.  Kind of give me some good luck.

But I had ZERO intent to purchase a new car.  I swear by that.

After the test drive and talking numbers I was kind of inclined to buy a new car.  Money-wise they could meet my payment and it was a really cool car that I decided I HAD to have.  And my ex talked me through it.  Asking me if I could really afford it, looked under the hood and asked all the mechanical questions.

But what nailed it for me was that they gave me $2,500 for the Freelander.  I actually feel a little guilty for taking advantage of them but they offered and I immediately said to start the paperwork.  My ex took me aside and asked me if I understood what was happening and God Bless him...I knew what I was doing.  I was buying a new life.  He wouldn't understand that but I did.

So now I have a Nissan Cube.  This is not a Land Rover, not even close.  It's a boxy/rounded car...sounds weird, I know.

But I did a change in mentality.  I don't want a Range Rover anymore.  The Land Rover gave me an image.  And I was totally Johnson County snob.  You could not touch this...but the Cube is a different mentality.  It's the kind of car that tells people that I'm approachable.  I get to do things a little different because I am allowed to be "eccentric" in such a weird car.  Maybe I'm not explaining this right but it boils down to this.  I want to be free spirited. I want to wear tennis shoes with dresses.  I want to try to be artistic (or at least crafty).  I want people to ask me about my car and I get to show it off.  I guess it goes back to that wanting to be unique.  I am unique now.  And I feel like I can try to be someone that I never thought I could get away with.  I can put patterns together on outfits.  I can have mismatching furniture.  I can go to thrift shops and repurpose things.  I can just do things differently then I thought I had to do them.  This is a whole new world for me.  I feel like I have permission to do things differently then I used to do them.  I was kind of in a rut.  I did the same things, over and over again because that was just how I always did them. I was suffocating.

This car changed my life because I have decided that I am no longer the person that I thought I was always going to be.  Do you know how freeing that is?  For me it was a complete change to my mentality.  I still do stupid shit.  But now I give myself permission to try different things.  And be OK with the results.  I can make mistakes and not beat myself half to death. This enables me to breathe.  I don't think I ever took a full and deep breathe before. I was constantly trying to take air in but never really filled my lungs.  I take deep breathes all the time now.  I feel energized.

And all because of a weird looking car!

The license plate is left over from the Land Rover and was taken off after I incurred a scratch so bad on the back passenger door; cost me $426 to repair.  And I had only had it 6 days.  Lousy Jinxed license plate was replaced.  It was only $3 to do that.  Should have done that before the scratch!

I am a geek...

I have something to admit.....I'm a geek.  Now don't try to tell me you don't believe me.  I, deep down, know that I'm a geek.  And I'm starting to be OK with that.  I mean, geeks get to have fun too.  But my geekyness is starting to get worse.  I'm in IT and I have pretty much always been a geek.  I preferred books to people.  And technology to socializing.  I started a car club...which did not score me points with some of my friends. I honestly do not understand their lack of understanding.  I think it's awesome that people who are like minded want to get together to show off our cars.  Or anything else for that matter.  We have something in common and would normally wouldn't have interacted.  So I get to meet new people.  That's a good thing, I think.


But I am still a geek. I love getting a new program/computer/technical "thing" and playing with it.  I will play the shit out of something just to get to achieve something.  Not sometime really tangible but rather a sense of accomplishment.


So this should come as no surprise...I am addicted to Facebook.  I am honestly on it all day.  I will be typing up an email or uploading pictures and then switch to Facebook as I'm doing now.  It has taken me about 30 minutes to write just this top piece because I'm switching to Facebook to check on stuff.


For awhile there I was posting something every day.  I think I'm pretty witty so I was constantly posting something to see what kind of reactions I get.  I like to make people laugh and I spend a lot of time coming up with original and funny things to say...I have a big ego and am pretty narcissistic.


And yes....I play the games.  I started off with FarmTown then went to Mafia Wars.  I tried really hard to stay away from FarmVille but, and I'm ashamed of this, I succumbed and I made it until level 45 and now I can't stand it.  I then moved to Social City but I started a new game (Market Street) and so I've kind of left Social City and really haven't played it for the last couple of weeks.  But Market Street has my full attention.  And I justify this game because it's a good project management tool. Wait...hear me out on this....I have to keep track of all the merchandise and their placement in my store.  Each piece of merchandise has a shelf life and I have to manage the next batch of products to ensure that I don't have shelves with no product.  I honestly do think it will help with my project management....seriously!


I have over 250 friends on Facebook. I cannot tell you who most of those 250 are.  There are quite a few friends and family.  But most are people that are playing one game or another and wanted a neighbor.  I have gone through in the last couple of days and gotten rid of about 30.  And I still am not sure about some of them.  I will probably take the plunge and just unfriend a lot of them because I'm tired of reading their game induced postings about their levels or their size of crop.  I'm really tired of having 3,000 posts on my page about their need for a shovel or gas.  I'm tired of scrolling down my page to see if ANYONE has posted something original, not from a game.  


I actually talk to people through Facebook more then I do in person.  Not because I talk to more people but rather Facebook is my mode of communication.  I am pretty sure that a lot of people know that they can try Facebook if they can't get me through email or phone.  That's kind of nerdy, I know.  And maybe a bit obsessive.  I'm not sure how my company feels about it but we opened it up about a year ago because HR made a reasonable request to use it as a recruiting tool.  I was against it but my boss decided to go with it and shame on him.  If they did a report of who has the highest Internet usage it would probably be me.  But the only saving TOTAL grace is that I can't play games while at work.  We have that blocked.  That saves me a lot because I would be playing constantly and that's not productive for work. No matter how much I justify the project management skills it may bring me.  I don't think work would go for the game, which is a shame. We'd learn a lot!


I posted this several months ago as kind of a joke but I have to admit that it hits home.

My name is Shannon and I'm a Facebook-aholic.

Step One - I admit I am powerless over Farmville and that my Social City game was unmanageable

Step two - Came to believe that staying off Facebook would restore me to sanity.

Step Three - Made a decision to turn my Facebook account over to the care of the Internet God as I understand him.

Step Four - Made a searching and fearless inventory of my Farmville gift box


Step Five - Admitted to everyone on my friends list the exact nature of my Social City growth


Step Six - Were entirely ready to have my Facebook friends send me more Mafia Wars respect requests

Step Seven - Made a list of all people and humbly asked them to send me boards for my horse stable

Step Eight - made a list of all friends and became willing to add more

Step nine - Made direct requests to all my friends to like a new page, except when to do so would cause them to unfriend me.

Step Ten - Continued to search for more pages and when I found one...quickly sign up for it

Step Eleven - Seek constant contact with the Internet, praying that my Internet does not go down and if so, piggyback off my neighbor's wireless

Step Twelve - Carry the message of the Facebookaholic to others and to practice staying off for many hours and the power to stick with that.


May the force be with you!

Drinking and Living

I used to coexist in my life.  I had one life at work where people didn't ask me how I was or what I did that weekend.  This is because I never asked anyone else.  I really didn't care.  I came to work to do my job so I can get paid.  This is a very simple equation...but people like to make it difficult.  They throw in their personalities, their kids, their houses, the in-laws, etc... All things I could have gived a shit about.  That was kind of my motto about anything I didn't want to know or have to deal with..."I could give a shit".

Now, this does not make me popular at work.  And I used to not care about that.  But when I went through the divorce and changed my name...people asked me if I was getting married.  Most people had no idea I had been married.  People had no idea that I had dogs that were my "children".  Some didn't even know that I was actually born, not forged in hell's fiery bowels.

I was definitely known as a bitch at work.  No small talk, let's get this shit done so I can go back to my office and get other shit done.

My other life was not any better.  I was married but barely.  We never talked.  He would be gone during the week and then, when he got home, I wanted to spend every waking moment with him and to go out and do things.  Well, my ex is a homebody...to the nth degree...his philosophy was that if the restaurant didn't have drive through, he didn't need to eat it.  Can you see how frustrating that can be?  And then add on top of that the crashing down of the life I had because of our incapability.  I'll call it that for lack of the will to tell the whole story.  Suffice to say, we were on a fast track to a divorce that I never saw coming.  I should have because there were signs EVERYWHERE.  Biggest one that should have shocked the sense into me was when he told me in October of 2006 that he didn't think he was in love with me anymore.  THAT should have been a clue.  But in my head I just put it away, didn't want to think about it.

So I started to have a couple of drinks during the week.  He was gone most weeks so I could have a bottle or two of wine.  Around this time I decided that I wanted to become an expert in wine.  Really, I just wanted to drink.  I took wine tasting classes.  Whoever came up with that was a GENIUS!!!  We would try about 5 different wines and do a little noshing.  Although I was disappointed that they weren't full glasses of wine.  Just like 3 ounces.  And you weren't supposed to chug them...sip and swish around in your mouth.  Some even spit it out.  WTF?  I wasn't going to waste perfectly good wine. I may not have liked it but I for sure was going to drink it.  That's alcohol abuse in my book.

And then...dom dom dom....my marriage ended.  Calmly and amiable.  Although I was dying inside. I had never, ever, ever, ever felt so much pain.  And I've experienced pain.  This was crushing.  I don't know how I survived those first couple of months.  But I drank.  I pretty much drank every day for the next 6 months.  There was a week in there were I had checked myself into Shawnee Mission Psych ward because I was just done.  I was tired...and it wasn't because I hadn't slept, although that was another issue.  I was just tired of being alive.  I hurt so much and didn't know how to handle it....so I just didn't want to.  I didn't want to handle it.  And drinking numbed that for awhile but sometimes I would be sober and realize that I was still breathing but I didn't want to do that anymore either. I was just tired.

When I checked out of Shawnee Mission (which is a great program for people that need help), they put on my exit form that I needed to look into a 12 step program.  WTF???  I had no idea where they got that from. I didn't drink that much and what had I said that tipped them off.  Because I still don't know what I said to make them say that.

I have a habit of being honest with people. Sometimes a little bluntly (although that is improving).  So I'm surprised when people tell me to stop calling them and go to a 12 step program.  I was confused.  But I started going in October of 2007. I stopped drinking in November of 2007 (the 6th to be exact).  But my sobriety date is March 14, 2008.  I have a huge resentment about that but it's appropriate.  See, if I take my pills a certain way, I get high. And I told my sponsor that.  She then "suggested" that I change my date and to stop taking my pills that way.  All true and right.  Still, I like that I'll have 3 years in November but really it's 3 years next March.

So now?  It has been a hard almost 3 years.  I don't know how I kept my job because for 2007 and 2008 I was probably home drunk in part of 2007 and crying and huddling under my covers in 2008 about 1/2 of the time.  My boss is a great man and he took pity on me.  Don't get me wrong.  I did my job, sometimes from my bedroom.  But I didn't excel like I had.  But I still am not sure how I was able to keep my job.  I'm so very grateful to my boss for that.

The first year of sobriety was actually pretty easy.  I was not drinking, which I found easy to not do.  I didn't crave a drink and (knock on wood) I still do not crave a drink.  I spent most of the first year not talking in meetings.  I listened.  And I hated everyone and everything about the program.  I didn't want to be there, I didn't like what they had to say, I was miserable so why do I need to stop drinking?  But around my year mark, something happened.  Because I was still fighting the reasoning around WHY I had to be there, I still thought that I could go and drink and it wouldn't be bad.  They had taught me how to arm myself.

But I have to admit that I would never drink again and not feel some type of guilt, frustration and anger because I know better.  I know that I'm an alcoholic.  I know that deep down inside.  And I know that I could lose everything if I drank.  And that is because I have a life today that is so worth it that I am not willing to interrupt that.

People say that this program gave them their life back...I have to disagree, this program gave me a life.  Because I was just surviving before.  I was just going through the motions.  I have a life that includes those people at work; asking them about their weekend and their kids.  It includes actually responding back in the conversation with what I did for the weekend.  I may never be BFF with people at work.  But they know that I bought a new car.  They know that my Milo is pretty much deaf.  They know that I have tattoos.  Maybe not really good friends but we're more then acquaintances.

And then there are my friends outside of work.  I have great friends because of this program.  Some in the program, some from before the divorce and the program.  And then there are those that I am making independently from the program.  Who would have thought that I could have friends?  Real friends...ones that I ask for their opinion and get it and even sometimes I get to give my opinion and mean it. I actually care now.  My "could give a shit" attitude? It's still there.  And I have to fight it sometimes.  But it does not define me.

For those of you out there that are in a 12 step program or know someone who is...keep coming back because it works if you work it.

Divine Intervention

I have this tenuous relationship with God.  I never used to believe in him and he always believed in me.  It took me several years to come to God. But I wasn't really looking for him when I found him.  I knew that there were things happening in my life that I could not explain as easily as I had in the past.  I was starting to think things that I had never done in the past.  All things that were pointing to the fact that, yes indeed, I was not the center of the universe.

And I was so desperate to find that connection.  Cause being alone in the universe, when everyone else had this personal relationship?  That was getting to be a source of jealousy.  And I'm not sure that I necessarily believed in God right away.  But I believed something was going on and that it was going to change my life.  And I was so ready for that.  I just didn't realize what that change was going to entail.

The day that I truly started to believe in God AND that I "gave myself" to him was August 3rd. I know that it seems odd to know the exact day but can you remember the day that God talked to you?  I was 35 years old and had never believed in God.  I had NEVER willingly gone to church. I don't remember ever going to a bible study class. I honestly do not know the bible stories that most kids are taught.  I had zero desire to belong to a "cult".  And most "Christians" were two faced liars and couldn't be trusted.  They were sometimes worse then convicted felons.  And they typically where the ones that I found were into freaky crap that most of us didn't do.

Not that some of that isn't true but it's not true for every Christian.  The people in my church are truly some of the best people I have ever met.  And I still find them a bit Cotton Candy Fluffy in their views but they are genuine in their faith and their need to help others.

God talks to me through music mostly.  I'll be in a mood and then I'll hear a song or two that have special meaning, I know that someone is trying to tell me something.  And that someone knew exactly what to do to get my attention.  And that is what God did for me on August 2nd 2009.  I had just vomited up a lot of resentment and guilt to someone, well before it was time to do that in my program. And it didn't make me feel better.  On the way to a friends house, a song came on my iPod that reduced me further to tears.  It was a song that I hadn't heard in months but was spot on with what I was feeling.  It was a break up song that I had been avoiding because I still wasn't through mourning the divorce.

I got to my friends house and a couple of other friends where there. They all gave me crap for doing what I did and so just suck it up.  But that afternoon they told me a story (totally off topic of my issue) that talked about visualizing putting someone in God's hands, to keep them safe because that person couldn't do it without him.  And then asked why we couldn't put ourselves in God's hands because we can't do it alone. That made a huge impact on me.

Later that night I was in the bathroom straightening my hair and was really not thinking of anything else and a song came on that was, yet again, one that I had listened to nonstop for a month or so and dealt with breakup.  I didn't think it was on my iPod anymore but it played and that was it.  I put my brush down and just wept.  I got it.  He had finally gotten my attention.  How could I deny that someone was out there and trying to talk to me.  I literally got on my knees and said the only thing I could think of because I had never prayed before.  I asked him to help me understand and that I don't stop believing the next day.  Because I was just so sure that I would over think it and deny anything had happened.

The next day I called my friend Mary and told her what happened.  She had me come over and I got on my knees again and truly asked God to reach to me as a child of his and to let me be open to him forever.  Technically I think I said I would be a child of God until the end of day.  I truly hope that I can keep that promise.

Now, I have a church that I go to every weekend.  I've been in Bible studies.  I volunteer my time.  And people know me.  They actually know my name and want to ask about me personally.  How awesome is that?  I don't know that I'm a Lutheran but that is the church that my friend Mary goes to and the one that has welcomed me with very WIDE open arms.  And I was baptised for the first time in November of 2009.  And I didn't erupt into flames!

But over all, I have become a Christian. I still get embarrassed about it sometimes. Not any big reason other then my scientific mind tells me that I know better then believing in something that had little reason based on facts.  But that is what I used in the past to answer the questions I had about God and his role.



I'm going to leave you with my favorite passage.  This is 100% what has happened to me.  There is no other explanation as to why I am now a Christian and that I truly want to practice these principles in all my affairs (sound familiar to some of you?  The program is based in God!!!).

Ezekiel 11:19-20 ( New King James Version is my favorite version of the verse).

"Then I will give them one heart, and I will put a new spirit within them and take the stony heart out of their flesh, and give them a heart of flesh, that they may walk in My statutes and keep My judgements and do them; and they shall be My people and I will be their God."

I was actually known as the Cold Hearted Bitch.  I had no one close to my heart because I didn't have one.  Some may argue that but I now know what it's like to have a heart of flesh and My God...I was totally shut off from the sunshine of the spirit.

But no more.  My heart has been replaced.  I am now a child of God and I am so blessed.  How can you argue with that?

May God (your version is just as good as mine) bless you and keep you.

XOXO

Shan

Being Bipolar

I didn’t have friends really growing up. The few I had were never BFF’s. I would do something with them when they asked but I never went out of my way to include them in my life. I honestly would rather sit and read then do anything with a friend. Or even my family. I spent a lot of time in the back of the car or in my bedroom reading. It was my escape mechanism. And that is when I think my bipolar started to kick in.


I definitely was told that I had “something” wrong with me when I was 16. It was a school counselor. I think I may have over shared about something because a call was placed to my mom and I was confronted when I got home. I learned at that point to stop talking about my feelings and even my thoughts.

I struggled with being depressed for the next couple of years but I ignored it for the most part. I was never the life of a party or someone that got excited. If anything, I would bring the mood down in a room. It made it easier to be sluggish and nonresponsive because I then didn’t have to actually do anything. I didn’t want to work at being in a relationship so I just didn’t. I’ve had a few boyfriends but nothing serious until I got married. I would bounce from guy to guy because I tended to get along with them more. But I never stayed long.

I was 23 when I was officially diagnosed as being bipolar. 23 was a very bad year. I rocketed up and down so many times over that year. One great thing was that I got Milo then. I had no intention of getting a dog. Hadn’t even thought about it. But my impulsive manic side kicked in that day and I came home with the man of my dreams. Milo truly saved me a thousand times over. I wanted to just sink into the darkness. It was dark and comforting. I would lose hours of the day, just dipping into the blackness. I know there were times that I would go off in a red rage and just scream my frustration, fear and sadness. I was in a horrible place. And it all came down to one day, asking for help and not really getting it. It was the 2nd time I had asked for help. I do not ask for help. I am strong enough to do this on my own damn it. But I was even deeper then the blackness. It was darker then the inside of a hole. I was drowning. These are all things that are signs of deep depression and I was losing control. I am a control freak because of being bipolar. If I could just control my thoughts and reactions, I would be fine. I used to squash myself into this tiny little space in my head, making sure that I had constant control over what I did and what I thought. It was an exercise in futility many times but it got me through the next 10 years.

I have been on and off medication since I was 23. I stop taking it because I’m feeling better and so I should be OK, right? But ultimately I end up back in the dark and I struggle to crawl my way out of it. I was hospitalized in 2007 because I was not safe to be alone. I knew that and asked for help. I got it this time but only because I was so close to the cutting edge that I scared everyone in my family and those friends I had. It was good in a sense. I started taking my meds 100% of the time and I saw improvement. And I made some changes to my life shortly after that. Really major changes. And change, for me, is hard because if I don’t know how to handle the situation, I have no idea what to do. So if I control everything to go my way, I know what to expect. I know how to prepare myself.

There are times where I lose all control. I have two minds. There are about 12 people in my head at any given time. And it gets really crowded in there. There is the main mind that knows right from wrong, keeps appointments, knows how to talk through feelings. But I call it my bipolar mind that are those 12 people and is constantly trying to bombard me with propaganda about how I’m not a good person. For the most part I have the ability to tune these voices out and do what is right and expected of me. But there are times where they are sneaky bastards because they’ll slip in here and there. I’ll be ½ way through something that I had no intention doing but somehow I have stepped into the place where I think it’s a good idea. This does not mean that I am not to be held accountable for things. Absolutely not. I am responsible for my actions. And I try really hard to learn from these experiences. But sometimes I am not able to catch myself before I get into something. Money and food are huge for me. I will spend every cent I have and then some just because I have an impulse to do something and I MUST ACT ON IT…immediately.

I was never really manic for long periods of time. Maybe a day but closer to an hour or two. But the last 3 months (and probably longer) I have been extremely manic. Going without food. Having to take sleeping pills to get any kind of sleep. I spent major money on just crap. I would talk 300 miles a minute when I did talk. And I was constantly moving around. Couldn’t sit still. But I didn’t see it. At all. A friend of mine actually told me and as soon as she said it, I totally saw it. I saw how I had been acting like a crazy woman. I didn’t see it at the time. So I had to go to my doctor and talk to them about it. They put me on more medication. And it’s better. I have some major side effects from the meds but it’s working and I don’t want to mess with that.

Now, I find myself unprepared sometimes. I’ve been dealing with this for 13 years. I’ve been medicated consistently for 3 years. But I feel like I’m getting worse in some ways. At least I’m not doing as well as I had been or where I would like to be. Maybe because I’m distracted? Getting a little cocky? I don’t know. But I’ve had to change some of my meds, which I hate. I am nowhere near the deepest darkness I found myself at 23 but it’s getting dusky. I’m not in danger from myself. That is one thing that has been a huge blessing over the last year. I have been given the gift of valuing my life. I could never hurt myself. It would hurt too many people and I couldn’t do that to people. But I find that I am letting things slip. And I think that just means I have to try harder. Talk to more people, ask for help if I need it, stay on the meds and definitely keep active. Sitting around does not help me mentally.

I think the biggest thing is talking about it. I’ve always been a bit shy about talking to people and definitely don’t want them to know that I am not perfect. But I think it’s my responsibility to talk to those in my life. Make them understand my side of the situation. I’ve never been very forthright with what it is that I go through. My parents had no idea the actual issues with bipolar until I told my mom the other day what it’s like to live in my head. She never understood the slippery slope that is wound around my necessary discipline. She never understood why I had to control my situations. I don’t think she has ever had an impulse that she hasn’t been able to control. She doesn’t understand my need to do the same thing over and over again. And the constant campaign from my bipolar mind to destroy my view of myself. How do you explain to someone how full of hate you have for yourself? I don’t need anyone to abuse me; I do a good enough job on my own.

With all that said…did you even know that I was like this? I’m betting not. I’m betting you thought I was pretty confident and sturdy. That just shows what a good job I have done to make sure no one knows what my issues are. But this shouldn’t be something to be proud of. I need people to know about this. Because I don’t want to jump off the deep end some day and no one understand what happened. And it keeps me accountable.

I’m good today. I have moments of complete bafflement but I have been doing more on my spiritual program and I have been talking to people. Each opinion from them helps solidify in my mind what should be done. And I am taking an aggressive stance with my mind today. Each day is better than the last but then the next day could be horrible. I just never know what is going to be my reaction for the day but I have actions I can take to change that day. Because I do have that ability. I have the right to start my day over at any time. And I have control over what I do, I just have to exercise that control. This means constant vigilance but I think my life is worth being on the constant defense.

I typically try to keep this blog upbeat and funny. But this is what I am dealing with right now and I feel obligated to tell my story. Not because I think it will make you like or hate me more but because you might know someone that has these traits and maybe you can help them. Because we rarely ask for help and for someone to put out their hand and offer to walk with them…that’s huge.

Pretty good page about bipolar. Treatments, symptoms, etc…

Bipolar Disorder - Wikipedia

I also recommend “The Up and Down Life” by Paul E Jones. He makes the disorder funny in parts but absolutely heartbreaking in others. But pretty good about what I went through and what I currently go through. He also had a drinking problem and I definitely identify with that.

The Up and Down Life - Paul E Jones

Thank you for letting me put this up. It is actually very therapeutic to have written this. Not all details are here but enough to make others understand.