New Blog

Ok a private blog is in the works. Contact me at tryingtosurvive101@gmail.com if you are interested in an invite. (spammers beware, this e-mail exists for this purpose only, don't bother)

If I don't already know you as an online friend or blogging buddy, please tell me a bit about yourself and why you are interested in reading my blog.

If I know you personally, as in you live near me, don't be offended if your request is not accepted. My blog is very personal, and I will not have my words and feelings used against me to hurt my family or myself. I know that sounds paranoid, but if you live here you also know what a nosey ass community this is and it's hard to know who to trust. Yes I realize some asshole could make up a fake identity, but I am also smart enough to track your IP address....just so you know.

I have been burned once and my family hurt, I will not take the chance of that happening again. I need to know my blog is a safe place for me to fall, to write and vent and express myself, and my community of 'web friends', who faithfully follow this blog have been there for me more than most of you who know me in real life. I don't fault anyone for that, I am not the same person I used to be, I understand that. I am sick. I will get well. But I may never be the person you knew. Maybe you can accept that, maybe not. But it is what it is.

I will still blog here occasionally as well.

Unsteady and Unsure

Thank you all so much for all the support and response upon the return of my blog. I am still unsure what to do. How do you write about life when you can only write about a fraction of it. I think the best solution will be to create a private blog. I suppose I could post an e-mail address for ya'll to contact me so I can send you an invite and only invite the people that I trust. But truth be told, there are few local friends and readers (and there were only a small few) that I don't know if I can trust. Someone who found it and figured out who I was (Or they already knew about it) told my family. This whole fiasco has made me a paranoid freak about my writing...and my writing was my breath. As dramatic as this sounds a tiny part of me has died over this. I hate hurting people more than anything, and then to be choked of my one saving grace has doubled the agony.

My therapist says I should keep this blog, write whatever the hell I want in it and if people don't like it they just shouldn't read it. (Ok her wording was a little more crass and blunt, but she was adamant that I keep writing here) Which of course made me feel a bit justified in expressing myself in a mostly anonymous manner, but the family feels it's not fair for me to write about them. I did try to explain that none of my regular readers even KNOW this family so what does it matter?

And I want to address one issue that has bothered me since this whole thing started. During this drama my husband was informed that I wrote things about him in my blog. It was implied to him that I was writing things about him that were unfair or unkind. Can I just say for the record my husband has been invited, welcomed, and even begged to read this thing. I left the address in the address bar at all times, hoping just once he might take the time to read my blog and perhaps get to know me in ways he doesn't currently know me. That just one time he might show a glimmer of interest.... He had no interest. He couldn't be bothered. He didn't care. And truthfully that hurt a little bit....no, a lot. He never has shown any interest in my writing. And he knew this was a personal blog. I explained in detail what this blog was, what I was writing, and why I was writing it. In the year that I spilled my guts on here, he never once even glanced at it. But suddenly I was the enemy for a few moments when he was informed that I had written about him. I was very quick to remind him that it has ALWAYS BEEN HERE FOR HIM TO READ....he just never gave a shit. Only when someone made him feeel like he should be upset about it.

So that is my rant. And I am disobeying the rules by writing this, but I do feel like I should be allowed to defend myself regarding that matter. Hubby seems fine with it now, or at least resigned to it, I told him if he was worried about what I wrote about him he should sit down and READ this blog word for word...he still didn't bother. So he has lost his vote in the matter and he knows it. I won't lie and pretend that even after all this that the fact that he doesn't care to read a single word of it hurts me. And now I have destroyed so much of it in my manic panic that I may just start elsewhere. A clean page. I can remember days when I still used a pen and a blank piece of paper seemed like an ocean of possibilities. Maybe a new blog will best.

If I do that I will post an e-mail address for ya'll to contact me, and start a new private blog. I want to keep this one open in case someone new stumbles upon it that could benefit from what little I have left of my bi-polar journey. They can contact me to be invited to the new blog.

I'm Back...??? Maybe

Well the wounds of the family fall out are healing, but I am still at odds with myself about keeping this blog. It is almost impossible for a creative person to censor themselves, especially a mentally ill one who desperately needs an outlet for emotional release.

Unfortunately I destroyed many months worth of entries is an frantic panic attack after the initial smackdown, which I deeply regret. My journey into bipolar disorder was very important to me and now it has been destroyed. Which unfortunately, irrational decisions such as those are classic bipolar behaviors. I felt like I had to make it all disappear to please others. I have been very sick over the issue and have unfortunately had to spend a lot of the holidays desperately trying to appear OK. I am still not ok. I am sure the people I hurt are still not ok either. I struggle with the fear that I ruined the holidays for everyone. It seems I ruin a lot of things anymore....perhaps I have ruined things all my life and am only just now aware of them. Perhaps am a destructive tornado who is too blunt and honest for her own good. Free with my thoughts and feelings, in this anonymous floating space....who was I kidding. Nobody on the planet is ever anonymous forever.

Now I feel naked and scared. I don't feel I have a safe place to write anymore. A private blog makes sense, but then again the people who stumbled upon my writings that could relate were the exact people I was 'talking' to. And you, my faithful readers as well. I don't know what to do yet. But I know that I cannot NOT write....it will be the death of me.

My MIL insists that it's fine that I keep my blog, she even bought be a new computer for Christmas because ours tanked...I am just not to write about my family anymore....thus the censorship. Which since I am no longer as anonymous as I thought, every word I write is going to be scrutinized and up for interpretation. Which is a dangerous thing to do to a writer, especially one struggling with mental illness. Some words are just words.....some feelings just are what they are, and they are temporary. Some thoughts are flashes of light that dim as quickly as they arrived....writers don't hold these things back. It's who I am. It's apparently an unfortunate part of my personality. At least to those who can never understand.

I don't know what will happen, but I thought I would check in, I have gotten some worried messages from some of you and I just want you to know I am alive and ok. Or at least as ok as I can be right now.

Last Entry

I have been trying to delete all my posts, but as there are over 300 it's going to take me a very long time, so I will just leave this up long enough for my regular readers to see be made aware that this blog is going to be deleted in a few days. I feel like my heart is being ripped out, this blog was my safe place to express myself. I feel like I am burning a diary.

It seems my anonymous outlet for writing about my feelings is no longer anonymous. I know that I shared this address with a few of my close friends and some family on my Dad's side. Apparently I am anonymous no more and have to say goodbye. My husband's family is now reading my blog. I have hurt people by expressing my feelings and I fear the only hope I have of repairing any damage I have done is by silencing myself. I will still try to keep up with everyone's blogs. You, my readers, have brought me a lot of joy and comfort in the last year. Thank you for that.

I will miss you all. I don't know how I can possibly find a way to express myself the same way again.

Shannon

Send me a new link, I can't get into your blog....I tried to e-mail you a long time ago but just realized it was a 'no-reply' addy... :0)~

Grey

Tonight I feel like I have lost something that wasn't mine to loose. There is a song floating in my brain that is fitting and it needs to be shared. This is one of those cryptic blogs that only I will understand, but you know me, sometimes I just do that....something I couldn't have, shouldn't have and have wanted for years....love that is impossible, lives that are complicated, responsibilities that clutter the path of life like construction signs and detours. Of course it's Ani who is fitting for my mood tonight

the sky is grey
the sand is grey
and the ocean is grey

and i feel right at home
in this stunning monochrome
alone in my way

i smoke and i drink
and every time i blink
i have a tiny dream

but as bad as i am
i'm proud of the fact
that i'm worse than i seem

what kind of paradise am i looking for?
i've got everything i want and still i want more
maybe some tiny shiny key
will wash up on the shore

you walk through my walls
like a ghost on tv
you penetrate me

and my little pink heart
is on its little brown raft
floating out to sea

and what can i say
but i'm wired this way
and you're wired to me

and what can i do
but wallow in you
unintentionally
what kind of paradise am i looking for?
i've got everything i want and still i want more
maybe some tiny shiny key
will wash up on the shore

regretfully
i guess i've only got three
simple things to say:
why me?
why this now?
why this way?

with overtones ringing
and undertows pulling away
under a sky that is grey
on sand that is grey
by an ocean that's grey

what kind of paradise am i looking for?
i've got everything i want
and still i want more
maybe some tiny shiny key
will wash up on the shore

Bye Bye Betty Bop

One of the toughest chicks I know died yesterday after a long tooth and nail fight with brain cancer. She had 11 siblings and is an aunt to several of my friends. That woman had a lot of fight in her and I am sad that she is gone. Betty was one of those gals that could take care of herself, she was widowed in her 20's and never remarried. It was humilating for her to have to be taken care of and I am sure she is at peace now after struggling so long to fight her caregivers and loved ones about her independance. Betty was one of those people who you could never really crack the shell on. Nobody truly knew Betty. Even her own siblings didn't know her home phone number if she didn't want them to. She didn't need help 'from nobody' and she planned to keep it that way. She had spunk and fire and I adored her. I will miss her.

Rest in peace Betty Bop, you will be missed by more people than you can even imagine!

Clean Bill of Health in Never Never Land

The comments from my last entry regarding going back to school are weighing on me. Perhaps I am fooling myself. Perhaps dealing with this beast of an illness is going to consume more of my life than I choose to believe that it will.

There will never be a 'clean bill of health' for my disorder. This will be with me forever. And will I forever be unqualified for any respectable job worth getting a degree for because of my mental stability. Yeah yeah I know all about my civil rights, but we also know it's a bunch of bullshit, if someone doesn't want to hire you they will find a way.

Perhaps I should just chuck the whole idea and keep trying to plug along as a writer.......I don't know what to do. I feel like I am floating out there aimless. And Anonymous is probably right, I am not at ALL ready for a major life change like school. But being in the mixed manic state I have been in the last two days and the 'excited phone calls' from the used car dealer guidance rep, I got wrapped up in something that is a pipe dream for me.....

I don't want to grow up to be nothing....LOL Yes I know I am quite grown up, and I will never be nothing. I just wanted to be more.

The Seeds of Doubt

So I have been talking to a guidance counselor from a University that shall remain nameless. She pissed me off today. I told her I did not want to get an Elementary Ed degree as she was pushing me to get. Clearly I am not getting the job that I applied for or they would have called me by now, I am sad about that but they want a Bachelor's degree....obviously I don' t have one, so I want to follow my heart and get a degree in Psychology. I really think I could be of help to women like me. Kids like me. Hell people like me. I am a survivor. The skills I have and the mistakes I have made learning to be a survivor could be invaluable to someone and that is really where my heart is leaning.

She advises me against becoming a psychologist because of my disorder. She says suicide rates are high amongst bipolar therapists. "Check the stats" she says and then goes on with her used car salesmen spiel about Elementary Ed and about how it doesn't matter what your BA is in as long as you have one (which sounds like BS if you ask me :0) and if I wanted to do Psychology later I could. Well if I was going to go to the trouble of working towards a Master's in Psych, why wouldn't I start there to begin with???? Duh! I'd end up taking classes I hadn't fulfilled with my BA in order to get my MA......AAAAUUUGGGHHH But the biggest thing is telling me I can't do something! I am kind of like Ruth from Fried Green Tomatoes "Don't say neva to me!" That's the quickest way to get me to do it! (I had a reading teacher tell me I would never learn to read in 4th grade because I always acted up in her class.....I was bored in her class
~ended up in Advance Reading the next year~....and look at me now Mrs. Sterchi, not only can I read but I can write so ppptttthhhhh! :0) And to tell me it's because of my illness, because she has a son with BPD blah blah blah....no two people or diagnosis's are alike.....and I AM checking the stats....can't find any. None.

So please, by all means....someone show me some proof. And I dare ya to tell me I can't do this.....BPD or not! I hate people who plant seeds of doubt for their own gain. I am sure she gets commission money off of her 'sales'

Layers

As I have been going through this intense journey of self discovery, therapy and illness something very sad has occurred to me. Something that I think when I look back I intentionally did to myself. Some twisted form of protection. Layers upon layers of protection to be less attractive. To drive away unwanted (and perhaps even wanted) pursuers. Victims of sexual abuse often do this to themselves and it has occurred to me, and is becoming evidently clear that in 13 years, I let myself go from this :


To this:
In the attempts of protection. In some twisted way, even though he doesn't even exist in my life anymore, it would drive him away. Perhaps it's even a punishment. Punishing myself for things I am not at fault for, but at the time felt I was. This statement sounds horribly conceited but I think I felt if I were less attractive, none of this would have happened. I realize that is not a true statement, but as a kid that is how I felt. Now the question is what to do about it. I have let myself go from a 130 pound healthy looking girl to a well....let's just say I am quite fluffy and sporting more than my fair share of extra pounds, my weigh hasn't doubled, but in a few years if I keep going at the rate I am going...well..... I don't want to keep punishing my body for something it is not responsible for.......where to begin? My meds are making me gain weight too and that is making it even harder. Oddly enough they kill my appetite, but I gained 4 pounds in a week....although that could have been my monthly visitor (sorry TMI) anyway...I hate this about myself. I rarely even look in the mirror. I hate what I have become. And it doesn't help that baking is one of my favorite hobbies LOL!

But I feel as if there is some significance in figuring out what the cause is. Maybe at least I can get it stopped, because it seems that every year adds another 5-10 pounds. But my motivation to loose it is very low......lazy? Perhaps. Or perhaps still trying to protect myself........how do you shed the need to do that? I realize as we age our bodies go to hell anyway, and looks don't matter in the grand scheme of things, but when I look at myself in the mirror I often think "What have I done to myself?"