highlights since last I babbled at y’all

Tags

anxiety, divorce, friends, goals, life, limits, love, mental illness, stress, work

I did NOT get selected for a jury, thank DOG. The case involved alleged sexual assault of a young girl by her father. As soon as I heard that I had a very hard time not jumping up and ripping that guy to pieces with my bare hands. Apparently his lawyer sensed my hostility and everyone agreed that I was not an appropriate juror for that particular case.

But while I was at the court house I was able to file the papers for the divorce, at least most of them, and give the nice clerk my $157. I had neglected to have Josh sign something that said he’d been given copies of everything so I had to get him to come over this afternoon when he got done at work.

He’s still wearing his wedding ring.

In all other respects he’s still being the same shitstain I kicked out on July 2nd. So much so in fact that not even the paper towel sweatband he was wearing (because he hasn’t taken all of his shit with him which would include several way more appropriate, and comfortable, garments) made me feel bad for him. He looks bad. Really bad.

I, however, look fabulous according to all of my pals at work. I should, right? I mean, I’ve lost 250lbs since the last time they saw me. They all commented on how they’ve never seen me look this light and happy before, and the one gal has known me more than 14 years. So that was good. And I got to spend a little time redecorating a bit and rearranging some stuff.

Perhaps now life will start to settle. I’ll put the form in the mail tomorrow morning and once the court receives it my 60 day countdown clock starts. After the 60 days are up I call the clerk and find out when my court date is. On that day I’ll go back to the courthouse at my designated time with the rest of my paperwork, be sworn in, sit on the stand, answer the judge’s questions (which are just a rehash of what’s on the paperwork), and then it’ll be done. So hopefully sometime towards the end of September this will all be behind me.

On a much lighter note, I’ve been working on the shrug, I walked yesterday and today, and I’m in much better shape with the class I have scheduled for next Wednesday than I thought I’d be. Yay.

and this is why Mama is not allowed time off work very often

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, divorce, family, life, mental health, mental illness, money, skin conditions, sleep, stress, taking charge of my finances

Have I ever mentioned how much I love to shop? It really doesn’t fit with the whole minimalist thing I’m trying to embrace, I realize that. But I love a good deal. And shiny things.

Part of this whole transition to singleness has involved making over bits of my living space. I felt that I had to really make this area MINE in order to live happily down here. A lot of what I did was remove things, put my things that had been tucked away in a more prominent place, move things around – you get the idea. But I’ve done some shopping, too. And I’ve realized something…

it is entirely different shopping for myself now as an independent single woman than it was shopping for myself as his wife.

Seems a little odd, but it’s true. And I don’t know that I can explain it. So I won’t even try.

Anyway, Mom and I took Grandma shopping yesterday to get a dress for my cousin’s wedding and I scored a great dress.

It’s absolutely stunning and it looks really good on. And it was $9.99. So yeah, I’ve been doing more shopping lately, but I still shop the sales.

Fortunately my sleep situation seems to be truly sorted out. I slept nearly 8 hours last night which is phenomenal. I ate like shit yesterday but I’m hoping since it was a one time kind of thing that it won’t cause any problems. And sadly my right leg has two new lesions that are draining and irritating me. I think part of that issue is different activities lately and me not being properly attired for them.

I’m going to see T-bone this morning. I had set this appointment up when I was in there last time, mostly just thinking since I’d be on vacation it would be a good idea. I’m thinking he’ll be quiet pleasantly surprised to hear about what’s been happening.

creating myself

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, divorce, family, friends, health, hypomania, kids, life, love, mental illness, moods, normal, sleep, stress

I’m not going to lie and say that this process I’m going through has been entirely easy. There’s been one hell of a lot of hard work getting the traces of him out of here so that I could start building my nest. It’s been a little difficult for me to get used to being able to make my own decisions again. But I haven’t had a single doubt that I did, and am doing, the right thing.

I chose the day I did because I knew that he would have a long weekend to try to start finding a place to stay, get some things, arrange transportation. That same span of time allowed me and Mom to do the overhaul in my living space. And now I have my week off work to get my sleep schedule back under control.

The first night I have no clue how I slept, other than like shit. Since then I’ve been having my Fitbit track my sleep. The second and third nights weren’t great either, and I was starting to get worried. Too many nights with no sleep can spell utter disaster for someone with Bipolar. Lack of sleep isn’t always a symptom of mania, it can also be a trigger. And I fucking HATE being manic.

But, praise the Almighty Ceiling Cat, I slept for 7 hours and 20 minutes last night.

So I think I’m going to be really alright. I’m finishing one of the last little projects I wanted to get done this morning. Yesterday Mom and I took my nieces to a natural history museum and hung out with some dinosaur bones, which they thought was super cool. And today we’re doing crafts. So yeah, I’m doing better. Loads better. Thanks for all the support kids, y’all rock.

who could I be today?

Tags

anxiety, divorce, family, friends, I have the best friends ever, life, love, mental health, mental illness, moods, sleep, starting over, stress, taking back my life

This has gone remarkably well, really. There are only a few of Josh’s things left in the house and those are only still here mostly because I’ve run out of room in the garage. I’ve spent the last two days removing his entire presence, including anything that reminded me of him in a way that hurt. I’ve gone to the Goodwill three times (all my stuff that he had been using but was never his) and I’ve cleaned out pretty well everything in my living area. I’ve also been able to rearrange things in a way that feels significant. I have a knitting / reading corner now that’s tucked out of the way but still quite convenient. There’s one piece of furniture left to remove and I’ve got someone coming for it later today.

Progress is a beautiful thing.

Josh never seemed to understand that he had choices, even right up to the end. He continues to be incredibly cruel about all of this. I’m trying not to play that game and Mom is helping immensely. He needed to come get some clean clothes on Friday because he didn’t take really anything with on Thursday. I told him that I would let Mom know he and his dad were coming, he asked if I’d be there, I said I hadn’t planned to because I didn’t want to upset him. His response? “It’s fine.” So I stayed in the house and Mom went and met them in the garage. I have no interest in that passive aggressive bullshit anymore.

She said he was amazed that I had done so much and taken obvious care with his possessions. I had washed all of his dirty laundry, folded everything, put things neatly in hampers or storage bins, anything I could find really. I have no desire to make this any more unpleasant for him that necessary and he just doesn’t seem to get that.

At any rate, sleeping was almost impossible the first two nights. Last night I decided to have the Fitbit track it for me and I got 5 1/2 hours. I know that’s an improvement. Still not as good as I really need, but an improvement. And I’m still trying to make healthy choices. I haven’t been exercising, per se, but I’ve definitely been active. By moving all of his things to the garage it feels like there’s been a huge emotional purge. The negative energy that surrounded the way he lived here with me is gone. This is truly my space now and I love it.

That’s not quite how it looks this morning, I ended up switching out the lamp for my Ikea star one, but close. That’s the knitting / reading corner. And the fireplace I haven’t been able use since I moved in. There is so much more room down here and the vibe is just totally different. It’s me.

I want to thank all of you for being so supportive through this. Mom and Wendy are keeping a pretty close eye on me to make sure I stay out of trouble, so don’t worry so much about that. The good vibes and prayers everyone has been sending really have helped. I am the strong woman you see before you because all of you are sharing your strength, and I love you for that. ❤

changes

Tags

anxiety, divorce, family, life, limits, love, moods, sleep, stress, taking my life back, the world is full of fucking idiots

I slept alone in my bed for the first time in 4 years. I suppose the actual truth is that I laid in bed alone for 5 hours, sleeping a little, for the first time in 4 years. The important thing is that I did it.

Yesterday was HARD. Josh was a significant part of my life for a considerable amount of time so there’s history, and sometimes history is difficult to walk away from. But I stuck to my convictions, spoke my piece, tried my best to fight fair, and defended myself. He showed his true colors and it wasn’t near as hard to put him out as it could have been. In all honesty, I think Evie misses him more than I do.

The rather daunting task ahead of me now is to gather all of his stuff, which doesn’t amount to a whole hell of a lot, so that he can come get it. I didn’t let him have the Honda and I insisted that he not sleep here last night. He didn’t leave until after 10 because he couldn’t find anyone willing to both let him stay the night and come fetch him. Burning bridges is not a wise thing to do.

Anyway, I wanted to let y’all know that I’m alright and that it (finally) went (mostly) according to plan.

what the hell is that smell?

Tags

anxiety, becoming me, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, depression, divorce, family, life, limits, love, mental health, mental illness, moods, sick, sleep, stress, taking back control of my life, the world is full of fucking idiots

No matter how many times you try to polish it, a turd is still just a turd. Oddly enough, it’s taken me more than 5 years to realize this. Probably more than that in all honesty, but 5 years for this particular instance.

I’m really mostly a kind, gentle soul that doesn’t like hurting anyone for any reason. As T-bone described it earlier, beneath my hard as nails exterior is a gooey marshmallow center. That is totally true, most of the time.

But we all have our limits and I’ve reached mine.

This blog wasn’t around when Josh and I started dating, which is really a good thing. There was a blog, under a different name, and it’s since been deleted. By me. I was just coming out of the worst stretch of my life in regards to my mental health and I was a little bit beyond batshit crazy.

But I did a year of DBT, I went through even more therapy after that, kept taking my meds like a good kid, and doing all the stuff the doc said to do. And because of all that hard work and the support of some amazing folks, I haven’t seen the inside of an ambulance, an ICU, or a psych ward since February 2010. Totally proud of that.

Since that time I’ve finished a Master’s degree, started and finished a graduate certificate (got a 4.0GPA on it, too), taught myself to knit sweaters and socks, learned to draw, and I’ve been ridiculously stable.

None of that actually has a fucking thing to do with Josh. Not a bit. In that same span of time he finally quit drinking every night, enrolled in some classes at the community college where he is doing the bare minimum to get by, and has maybe quit smoking. Possibly. But according to him everything good that happens is because of him and everything shitty is because of me. It’s a pretty typical mess one encounters with a pending divorce.

Fights between two people who have mental illnesses like we do and are also incredibly fucking stubborn are just nuts. We try to out-stubborn the other, we say truly shitty things, and there is not an iota of tenderness. It’s all out warfare and I’m sick of it.

I’m taking the blame for it because that seems the easiest way to just shut him the hell up. I’ve already taken some steps to take control of my life, something I haven’t entirely had in a very long time, like maybe ever. I’m reclaiming my preferred persona everywhere I can. So I will likely be making some massive overhauls here and in all areas of my life, and I might be away for a few days. Thank you for the love and support you’ve shown me, recently and always. Y’all mean oodles to me.

so much to tell you

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, depression, divorce, goals, health, life, limits, love, mental health, mental illness, moods, motivation, sick, skin conditions, stress

I’m not really even sure where to begin, which isn’t like me. So let’s see…

I did walk on Friday, only 10 minutes, but still. And my total for the week in terms of weight loss was one pound. I’ll take it.

Josh had the appointment with the cardiologist Friday afternoon. He almost certainly has blockages in his heart and his legs. On Monday he goes in for a scan of his legs and then on Wednesday they’ll do an angiogram. Not sure what they’ll find or when he’ll come home. I honestly don’t think it matters. He isn’t taking any of this seriously and I’ve decided I really don’t care. If he doesn’t love me enough to take care of himself then there’s no point in worrying about any of this.

Mom and I went shopping today, as per our usual Saturday morning fun. We did the big farmer’s market downtown, Kohl’s, Barnes & Noble, and Hallmark. She had some wicked good coupons at Kohl’s and gave them to me so I ended up with a swimming outfit for $1.06. It’s really workout shorts and a tank top that should be alright in the water and will cover the truly unsightly bits on my legs.

This afternoon I got the sewing done on the black and white vest. WOOT! I still need to trim the threads and clean up a few rough edges, but it’s essentially done. I am so fucking excited to see the ass end of that project. The knit shrug is coming along nicely as well, I’m thinking maybe tonight I’ll get to spend a little time with it. Although, maybe not, because…

MENTALTOASTER is a thing! My friend got the URL registered, WordPress is installed, and now we’re working on some final details and what it should look like. My intention is for it to be a positive place where anyone wanting to get or give support on nutritional/health type issues can go, particularly if that person also has mental health issues. I will definitely let y’all know when everything is live and ready to roll.

the (viscous and entirely rotten) cycle of mental health from the viewpoint of someone with bipolar and borderline

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, blog for mental health 2015, borderline personality disorder, getting healthy, health, life, limits, mental health, mental illness, moods, motivation, sick, skin conditions, sleep, stress, stress management

Wow, doesn’t life just suck some turds sometimes? Honestly, things were going great in my little world and then BAM! All of a sudden I’ve quit smoking, the diet is really changing, and the old man may or may not have a serious heart condition. I feel little like I’ve been handled in a way which is sexually inappropriate and A) not offered adequate lubrication, and B) not been kissed afterwards.

This SUCKS.

And because my stress levels have rocketed through the ever-loving roof, my skin condition is flaring up. And my neck/shoulder muscles are tight again. And this afternoon my irritable bowels decided to be irritable.

Come on man, now this shit REALLY SUCKS.

But it’s like that for those of us living with a mental health condition. What effects our physical health will end up effecting our mental health, and the other way ’round. It’s like a two-fer that NO ONE WANTS. Or a buy one, get one sale on second-hand toothbrushes. Or… (insert your own icky metaphor here, and share in the comments please)

For me it’s all too easy to let the cycle get entirely out of control. Take for example this fine shitstain of a week. I haven’t walked yet at all. Not once. And the less I walk the harder it is to sleep. The harder it is to sleep, the harder it is to get up early enough to walk. You feel me, right? Dig it.

So the cycle has to stop, and I have to be the one to do it. Tomorrow morning, no matter how much I don’t want to or I hurt or I’m tired, I will be getting my fat little ass on that treadmill. (after I weigh myself) If I don’t, then the skin condition bullshit and the stress and the mental stuff, it all wins. And I am not spending my time on this little blue ball letting something other than me determine what wins.

my tolerance for bullshit has reached an all-time low

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, choices, DBT, drama free zone, family, health, life, limits, mental health, mental illness, moods, save the drama for yo mama, skin conditions, stress, the world is full of fucking idiots

Yeah, Mondays suck. I’ve been trying my best to deal with the ridiculous quantities of bullshit going on right now and, honestly, I think I’m doing a fan-fucking-tastic job. But truly, a girl can only take so much at once.

Josh and I have both smoked what should be our last cigarettes. That happened yesterday. Remarkably it hasn’t been as hard as I remember quitting can be. Part of it is that it’s been hot as hell here lately. I hate smoking outside when it’s really hot, wet, windy, or cold. So basically there are like 6 weeks out of 52 that I find smoking outside tolerable in Nebraska.

Because of all the drama going on with Josh’s health I’ve been trying to take care of myself as best I can and not make a fuss about not really feeling great myself. I know it’s stress and that this stress will pass, I really do get that. But my skin crap is flaring up on both legs now and draining like that cheap old car we all had that leaked oil like some kind of freak mechanical miscarriage. It ain’t pretty in my special long-legged drawers right now kids, not pretty at all.

So I called the dermatologist’s office to get an appointment to try the phototherapy whatever. She’s on vacation this week so I’ll see her PA, her dude PA. Keep in mind that my problem area is my inner thighs, right up next to where all my junk is. The nurse explained that they’ll “paint” the area, let it sit (to give it time to think about what it’s done to me???), then I’ll sit under the light. The whole process is supposed to take about two hours. And then, get this, I cannot expose the affected area to sunlight for 48 hours. She told me that and I’m all, “honey, that part of this body hasn’t seen the actual light of day in YEARS.”

Oh sweet jezuz, what the fuck am I getting myself into now…

My appointment is at 12:30, if it runs 2 hours I’ll be done at 2:30. Josh’s appointment with the anesthesia people is at 3:30. I know where we’re going but he doesn’t and I’m not entirely sure how to work all of this because he and I will be coming from complete opposite sides of town. Righty-o.

Alright, I’ve had my 15 minutes of bitching, time to suck it up and get on with kicking ass and taking names.

It’s certainly not a popular opinion that I hold, but I will tell you that it is my heart-felt belief that each of us is faced with choices every day and how we choose shapes the remainder of our days. I said something to this effect to someone the other day and was met with utter resistance. I was told that I couldn’t possibly say that everyone can choose.

I’m here to tell you that they can and they do. There are no excuses. Maybe you aren’t in a state of mind to make a reasonable choice today but I would suggest that it likely has to do with a choice you made on a different day. And don’t for one minute think that not making a choice gets your ass off the hook. Not choosing is a form of choosing, rather a coward’s way.

I’m choosing not to put up with whiny ass bullshit drama anymore. I have better things to do with my time.

a glimpse of friday

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, cat watching television, cleaning is a coping skill, Elsa riding a T-rex, family, kids, life, love, mental health, mental illness, moods, motivation, nothing like nieces, stress

I took yesterday off work (mostly) so that I could get a few things done before the kid comes this weekend and so that I could spend the afternoon with my nieces. Thursday night I was kind of strung out from all the medical shit going on so I fell back on one of my favorite coping skills – cleaning. Between Thursday late evening and this morning I’ve managed to get all of this shit done.

• All 3 bathrooms cleaned (in all fairness only 1 is a full bath)
• I brewed my coffee for iced coffees next week
• Cleaned out and organized both fridges
• Did 2 loads of laundry
• Changed the sheets and made the bed
• Watered the plants
• Refilled my pill trays, all 3 of them (those are just mine, Josh has 3 of his own)
• Emptied the cat box, 2x
• Finished putting together my binders of printed patterns – I had started that project Thursday night
• Shredded some paper crap that came out of the file drawer – weeded the drawer out Thursday night as well
• Revised/updated a budget I started ages ago and printed it so that Josh and I can go over it this weekend
• Ran to the one grocery store with Mom

Aunt Erin and E, my 7 year old niece, playing dolls

at some point a T-rex got involved

at the end of a long day it’s nice to relax with a little TV

The most exciting news yesterday is that, somehow, I lost 3.5lbs. I’m quite pleased with that and I’m going to credit eating that bowl of mushy seeds and then damn near shitting myself to death with my success. So yay.

This morning Mom and I will be running to the farmer’s market and one other store, and then I believe we’re going to try to finish getting the house stuff taken care of. There’s truly no rest for the wicked.