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Just To Get My Mind Off Of It

Saturday, May 26, 2012

 Stolen from Sunday Stealing

1. Have you ever peed your pants as an adult? I can confidently say no thanks to Dr. Drake.

 2. Who do you have a celebrity crush on now? Johnny Depp always

 3. Would you date someone you met online? I've met people that I've met online

 4. Do you wear underwear always? well of course not

 5. Do you hate yourself at times? I've hated things I've done at times

 7. Do you like dirty movies? You mean like the DVDs that are covered with sticky paw prints?

8. Could you believe Josha Ledet was voted off Idol? who?

9. When was the last time that you bought a car? That would be December 2007

10. Have you ever been camping? Do I look like I'd camp? Truth is I wouldn't be able to get off of the ground.

11. How many times a day do you go on facebook? how many hours in a day again?

 12. What was the last movie you saw in a theater? probably RED

13. Have you ever worried that you'd cut off a limb? I'm pretty sure I still have all mine.

14. Where did you get your last email from? that's a silly question. my computer

15. Favorite website? The Bipolar Diva...duh

16. Are you down with ghetto? I'll slap that shit off my kids faster than they could blink

 17. Will the world end in fire or ice? I guess Ice, that would mean the glass of gin is empty

18. Do you believe in the afterlife? yeppers

19. Would you be upset if facebook stopped working? but of course

20. How did you start your blog? one thought at a time

21. Have you felt that life is like being on a roller coaster? are you kidding? I sell tickets

22. Favorite year so far? 1991

23. Do you consider yourself religious? not religious, faithful

24. How do you dress to impress? depends. Am I on the Harley, out on the town or at Starbucks? on the bike it would have to be leathers, on the town would be short dresses and stilettos, and at Starbucks.....eh, jeans?

25. Have you ever been to Connecticut? no I have not

26. Do you eat sushi? I love it!

27. Would you smoke pot providing there was no risk or driving involved? where did it come from?

28. What do you think of Idol Winner Phillip Phillips?? who?

29. Do you believe that animals have souls? have you ever looked into the eyes of a gorilla? that pretty much answers it.

30. Who did you last talk to? Share, if you dare. boring. to my husband about a check from a client

31. What is one thing that always annoys you? rudeness and the scraping of teeth on a fork

32. Do you believe in a higher being? yes

 33. Have you ever fallen in love with a neighbor? eh, not

 34. Any plans for this weekend? leaving to drive to Texas in the morning for two and a half weeks

35. Would you like to rule your country, if you could? I rule my household, that's enough for me

36. Do you like watching films about the nature of animals? I find them incredibly boring

 37. What's the difference between lust and/or lust? somehow I think this question was written incorrectly

38. Do you have a soul? the last time I checked

 39. One best friend or many good friends? I have one best friend and lots of good friends

40. Do you believe in spontaneous combustion? I've wished for it at times.

 

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Unimaginable

Thursday, May 24, 2012

The day started out gloriously. I sat in Starbucks chatting it up with my beautiful cousin as I sipped a latte and had some oatmeal. I had a list of things to get through since I'm leaving on a 2 and 1/2 week road trip to Texas on Sunday morning with my daughter Nikki. I was getting prepared to begin the "checking off the list" day and make dinner for my family.

Then I got the call. The call that informed me of something that will fundamentally change our family forever. For some reason it hit me exceptionally hard even though it doesn't really affect me personally per se, but it did affect me. It affected me because of the people involved. I took on their pain, their shock, their torment.

Jeff had to tell me several times before the words, the terrible words, sank in. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't think. All I could do was to cry, cry for my family and cry for what I thought at first had to be a horrible, horrible mistake, all had to be well, but it's not and it won't ever be again.

As Jeff's words slowly sank in I realized it was indeed real. It happened. The worst imaginable thing did happen. But still it wasn't real, not then, not now. But I've seen it. I've seen the news, I've seen the articles, I've seen the pictures.  I read the words, the unthinkable words, and I know that we've all been changed forever.

For some reason I went into crisis mode. The panic began and the anxiety was at an all time high. I had to call my psychiatrist to tell me what to do. I couldn't even fathom how to get through the panic and the anxiety that I've fought for so many decades.

He walked me through maximum dosages and tried his best to calm me. The meds calmed my physical symptoms, but my mind won't, it can't, stop.

My heart for my family is bleeding. Their lives have been sent on a path that no one could have ever imagined, that no one should have to endure.

In an instant things can change and your life can change forever. Love what you have while you have it. The future is never to be trusted. The unimaginable can happen.

 

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Freedom

Sunday, May 20, 2012

I wish I could explain it, I'm not sure I can. I'll try, but I'll do it no justice.

Yesterday was the third annual motorcycle Freedom Ride. It was to honor those that give and have given their lives for our country.

I love being in the middle of a bunch of bikers. The leather, the long braided hair, the tattoos and of course the bikes. Being in the midst of such a group I'm able to see something that most, or I assume most, people outside of the group don't see.

I look past the preconceived image and I see the brotherhood, the honor, the genuine friendliness, and people that are real, there is no pretension.  Bikers in general are usually looked upon by outsiders as rule breakers, outlaws, drinking, brawling heathens. Yes, there's some of that in the biker "subculture," but it's the exception, not the rule.

In the biker world there is no back biting, no gossiping, no self righteousness. It's a far cry from many of cliques of today in neighborhoods, corporations, the church and the world in general.

We began our day in the parking lot of a Harley dealership in Vancouver, Washington. Isabella and I were surrounded by about 200 other bikes as we started out on our day long journey to Albany, Oregon to give honor to our fallen troops, our veterans, our lost and unknown.

If you've never ridden in a pack of bikes, it's a wonderful feeling. The roar of the pipes is an amazing sound, especially when several hundred bikes are together riding down I-5, or a country lane. I did both yesterday.

In honor of all our troops many of the bikes flew full sized flags behind them, many others had smaller flags. It was awe inspiring. We had wonderful road guards, whose job it was to block oncoming traffic at red lights, on ramps and intersections so that the group of bikes could stay together.

We rode the back roads through Canby, Silverton, and Scio on our way to Albany. In all of the towns were police officers and deputy sheriffs blocking traffic so we could pass in safety.

In Silverton there was a lone officer blocking traffic at the main intersection in the tiny town. He stood at attention and saluted as hundreds of motorcycles roared by carrying the Stars and Stripes of our country. The diva that doesn't do tears, cried at the sight of the young man and his honor for our country and the troops we rode for.

On the back roads for as far as the eyes could see there was a long line of staggered bikes snaking it's way through the beautiful Oregon countryside. I wish I could have gotten a picture of the site but since I was riding myself there was no way I could get pictures while on the bike.

We made a stop and picked up about a hundred more riders and their beautiful machines before making our way to the Albany Memorial.

When we arrived at the memorial we walked the memorial touching the names on the stones for the fallen. We traced the names and the dates with our fingers. We cried at the memorial for the POWs and the MIAs.

After about a half hour hats were removed, the Pledge of Allegiance recited and the Star Spangled Banner sang. It was a beautiful and moving site to see all of the big burly bikers with their hands over their hearts and tears in their eyes.


It was a wonderful day with several hundred of my closest friends. One that I won't soon forget.







 

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Two Little Words

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

 This was written a couple of years ago. Many of you have never read it. It kind of seemed appropriate today.

I find it odd that two little words changed my life forever. Oh there were more words spoken at that meeting, but none as powerful as those words consisting of just 15 letters. They were about to impact my life in ways I could have never imagined.

As I sat in the doctor's waiting room I surveyed the photographs she had chosen for her walls. They were black and white photographs of people of all ages. Some were happy, some were not. Some were on the beach and some lying in the grass.  If you've ever watched the Sopranos you know what I'm about to say.  Just as Tony did, I looked at each picture carefully trying to find the hidden meaning the psychiatrist was trying to convey with each choice. Were there hidden meanings, or was I just being paranoid from sitting in this office?

I flipped through magazines while wondering whether to stay or to run. I knew that this meeting could provide me with life changing information and I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with it. On the other hand I was curious. Was I my own enemy? Did I have an enemy? Did it have a name?

My life has been anything but calm. From my early days I remember the turmoil as it sometimes surrounded me, pulling into its depths.  At the time I wondered why these tumultuous times wouldn't release their grips on me, now I wonder if I was I that couldn't release my grip on them.  It's strangely funny how introspective I became waiting for the verdict.

In my primary care doctor's office, I chat with the staff, look at magazines, play Sudoku on my iPhone and look forward to seeing the doctor that we have become friends with. This time was different. I was nervous. I was a little bit afraid and I was certain. I was certain of the verdict she would issue and it would be a life sentence.

Within minutes, that seemed like hours, the door opened and the doctor appeared. She was about my age, 45 or so, attractive, tall and thin. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders and flipped up slightly on the ends.  She was casually dressed in black pants and a red long sleeve shirt. She didn't wear much makeup, but she didn't need it, her big blue eyes captured my attention at once as I'm sure they did with everyone that saw her.  She most definitely didn't fit my stereotypical image of a psychiatrist.

Her voice was soft and calm as she called me into her office and introduced herself.  Her name was Linda and she had been referred by my regular therapist, another Linda. Her office was done in neutral colors, but stylish with its classic furniture. Though not small, it was cozy and comfortable. There was no couch, no butterfly net and no straight jackets. There were shelves filled with books, kids' toys and boxes of tissues.

I looked at the chairs trying to decide which one to choose and if that might mean anything in the evaluation. I mean, if chose the chair on the left am I psychotic, if I chose the chair on the right was I a hypochondriac? I decided to choose paranoid and took the chair in the middle.

I sat down scrutinizing my posture. How were my hands? Was I sending off uncooperative body language, or was I too eager for a diagnosis, making it invalid? I thought I'd better calm down before she called in the men with the nets, who I was sure were in the other room.  I could feel anxiety-induced beads of sweat forming at my hairline. They were beginning to drip down my neck and to the small of my back.  I needed to calm down before I sealed my own fate, a fate worse than death, the fate of being admitted to the Adventist "Behavioral Center" otherwise known as the Cuckoo's Nest.

She began with asking me the usual questions about childhood, parents, siblings and then the more difficult ones regarding present experiences and traumas.  The entire meeting took almost three hours. As she spoke, I became much more comfortable with her. I calmed considerably and stopped looking for hidden syringes and various other torture devices.

She focused on my shopping, my forgetfulness, irritability, depression and mood related issues over all. In the third hour of the evaluation she turned at her waist, put her notepad down on her walnut desk. She then turned back toward me, leaned forward, folded her hands and uttered the life changing words: Bipolar Disorder. I believe her exact words were "I feel comfortable with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder II."

Well I'm glad someone's comfortable, but it certainly wasn't me.  I was thinking of that nice big check I had just written her and thinking "No, shit you're comfortable!"

Bipolar Disorder II, not the classic disorder everyone associates with manic-depression. There are no delusions, no psychotic behavior, none of the serious things usually associated with the condition. But there is shopping, irritability, severe depression, mood swings and all that shit. Wow, I'm feeling more comfortable every second.

However the more I think about it, the more I agree with the diagnosis. When you know your enemy, you can fight them offensively. I like that my enemy has a name and it's not Diva.  It's going to be a challenge, but really I'm the same person I've always been, just now I know why things get so skewed sometimes and why my moods can fall so quickly. I wasn't going to tell anyone, but I am the same person, I'll keep the good and work on the bad.  And now you'll know when I disappear for awhile or am quiet, it's not you, it's me and I will be ok. Yeah, I think I'm getting more comfortable every day.

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Quiet

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The feelings are overwhelming today, the sensations engulfing. I don’t know where to turn or who to trust.

 I feel words of attack are being shot like arrows and they pierce the inner most core of my being. I’m not sure why a small dispute can cause me to spiral out of control sending me into the pits of hell.

All I want is to disappear, to vanish from this reality. Or is it reality? Why is it so difficult to just be?

I want to run and hide from the world. I want a quiet, dark room where no one can reach me, where no one can enter the cocoon I want to spin and crave to live in.

I don’t want the physical sensation of another human’s touch on my skin. I want no contact at all. I just want to be. I just want to be left alone. I don’t want to hear another voice. All I want is quiet and solitude.

 

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Panic Attacks and Overdoses

Friday, May 4, 2012

These last few weeks I've had increasing panic attacks. The intensity and the duration are beginning to scare me.

 I've taken a lot of meds today and have been searching on the net for the max non-lethal dosage. Seems the drug companies don't like to give that little bit of information out. So I guess I'm on my own tonight.

The world is closing in and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I can't breathe and I feel as if I'm about to bite my tongue off.

 Emailed the doc, but since he's Jewish I doubt he'll get his email on the Sabbath. So I'm winging it here. Trying to distract myself and gain some time by writing.

The lost feeling is consuming me and the attacks are scaring the hell out of me. I usually only have an attack every six months or so, but it seems as if I'm having one several week long attack. I can't get it to stop.

I've been trying to breathe through them and chill, but today there's no way out except medication. That alone scares me and only adds to the attack. I want to take enough medication to get me though the night and hopefully gain some relief, but not enough to do the Heath Ledger exit.

I guess I'm on my own here and only time will tell. The morning light will be a welcome sight and I can only hope that the attack will be quelled.

I usually am able to write beautiful poetry in the midst of an attack, but my thoughts are scattered and my movements slow.

I probably should go to the hospital but I'm too tired to do the whole work up thing.

So tonight I sit, I type and I try to ignore it. but now it's time for the meds and hopefully a good night's sleep that brings me into tomorrow alive and much calmer.

 Goodnight my friends,
 

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No. Thank. You.



I was just on Facebook, surprise, surprise, and on the side bar where they have all the links you can "like," there was a link for "liking" cuddling.

There were like six million people that "liked" it. It gave me shivers! Serious shivers.

Now I "liked" Santana, Vegas and Sean Hannity, but cuddling? Not just no but HELL NO!

While I do hugs, and kisses and all that crap, I am NOT a cuddler. I don't like it one bit. The only thing I want to cuddle is a pillow.

 I want all hands, arms, legs off of me at all, or most, times. Seriously, the thought of cuddling creeps me out! I'm still amazed so many people "liked" it. No. Thank. You.

 

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