Dear Followers…

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, friends, life, love, meds, mental health, mental illness, moods, random shit that falls out of my brain, school, sex, stress, the world is full of fucking idiots, work

This is an email I sent to one of my very dear friends this morning. When I realized that I hadn’t posted yet today it struck me that I could probably tell y’all most of the same stuff and it would be totally appropriate. So here goes…

Wow, I have no fucking clue where I actually left off…

Ok, the appointment with my shrink on Monday went well. I was given the go-ahead to start tapering off the gabapentin (anxiety med). She says it kicks in within about 30 minutes and it’s got a super short half-life so I can treat it as a PRN. I only took 2 Monday night (usually do 3), none yesterday morning, 2 last night, and none this morning. So far so good. I considered taking 1 before class yesterday afternoon but didn’t and it turned out alright even though that was quite possibly THE most trying class session yet.

Note to self – don’t print assignments on both sides of the paper as it will confuse the prof and you’ll have to point out to her during the break that your bibliography was on the other side of the page. And sadly, I’m not kidding.

I got stuck working on a “group exercise” with quite possibly the most argumentative person I’ve ever met. We were supposed to fabricate a case study that could be used as part of a training session. It could be on anything, it didn’t have to tie in to anyone’s specific semester project. She argued with the rest of us about every goddamn suggestion we made. I finally got pissed and just commandeered that sinking ship and we did the case study about Josh’s utter inability to communicate effectively. (hello free therapy!) The totally bizarre thing is that she takes every possible opportunity to tell me how excited she is to see my finished project because I’m doing shit on designing job aids and she thinks that’s just super neato. WTF?

Anyway, I feel like mostly I’m doing ok with the med change, though I do seem to be more tired than usual. But it’s getting cold and gray and shitty as fuck here again, so I’m sure that doesn’t help. My back is starting to feel better thanks to Mr. Cutiepants Chiropractor. My foam roller jobbie to do the stretches should be here soon. And the leg stretches for my Achilles tendon are AMAZING. Love that dude.

Josh is kind of an ass but I’m really mostly used to that. Life goes on. He thinks he’s getting laid after work, I think he’s got a better chance of winning the lottery.

I threw two people under the bus yesterday (figuratively) and I’m waiting to see what the repercussions will be. They didn’t do their jobs and I had to clean up after them, something that happens quite frequently and I’m just tired of it. So I sent them both a shitty email, professionally shitty, and CC’d their bosses and my boss on it. I have enough of my own goddamn work to do.

At any rate, that’s me right now. Enough of a mess to feel like I still have a right to carry my “bat shit crazy and loving it” card but not so much so that I feel like I should be wearing my special white coat that makes me give myself bear hugs. So in other words, everything is normal.

Love ya.

the return of top 10 tuesday

Tags

bipolar disorder, kids, mental health, mental illness, random shit that falls out of my brain, sex, top 10, top 10 tuesday

Greetings kids, welcome to the return of Top 10 Tuesday!

Top 10 Reasons Mama Rents time with Children (instead of having given birth)

1. Bipolar is strongly suspected to be genetic and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
2. If I don’t get enough sleep for enough nights in a row, I require hospitalization. Babies aren’t known for sleeping in a predictable fashion.
3. No one really wants a little version of me running around, least of all me.
4. Diapers.
5. In order to even get pregnant I’d have had to go off all of my psych meds for at least 9 months, probably longer. NO.
6. I have a hard time taking care of my own basic needs some days. It wouldn’t be at all fair to a child to have to rely on me for much of anything.
7. I’m selfish and if I want to blow all the grocery money on cigarettes and energy drinks no one is going to call Child Protective Services on me.
8. There is way too much pressure to pick the right name for your baby. I couldn’t deal with that sort of stress.
9. I don’t need a reason to get fatter.
10. It’s way more fun to load someone else’s kids up with candy and junk food and then send their little asses home.

part of the story of Mama

Tags

anxiety, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, DBT, life, mental health, mental illness, sex, stress, suicide, therapy

Y’all know by now that I’m living with a dual Dx – bipolar II and borderline. I’ve spent time inpatient more times than I can clearly remember. I’ve also done a few different kinds of therapy, an outpatient program at the hospital, and I’ve taken lots of different meds. Over the course of the last 9 years I’ve gotten pretty good at the whole “being mental” thing. But lately I’ve been wondering if I really have. Let me attempt to explain…

I am not the least bit ashamed to “out” myself about the bipolar. I don’t really care who knows or what they think. It’s part of who I am and it’s shaped me to be the person I am – a strong, intelligent woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone.

But I damn near never say anything about the borderline.

It’s a piece of me, for sure, but it’s a piece that embarrasses me. I think back on all of the asinine things I’ve done and wonder if that could have really been me. I’m so much smarter than that, aren’t I? Did I really buy a $30,000 sports car for a guy I had just met because I thought it would make him like me? How many guys did I sleep with immediately after meeting them because I just knew that was how they’d show me they loved me? How many times did someone go from an angel to a devil in my mind within a span of seconds all because I have no concept of “gray?”

Yes, I have done all of those things and a million more. Am I proud of any of it? Nope. Would I rather the world never had to witness the destruction that is me in a shitty mood? Yup. But am I still here, and still me, and still willing to fight for my sanity? You had better fucking believe it.

So yes, I’m embarrassed about the borderline, but I’m working on it. Going through two rounds of DBT has helped immensely. I’m not that same confused little girl that I was when I did those things. I have more effective skills in my arsenal of tools these days. But sometimes, sometimes she comes out again, and it scares me.

pretty/shitty friday

Tags

music, pretty/shitty, random shit that falls out of my brain, sex

bear with me, it’s been one of “those” weeks

I’m sure I’ll have something interesting and witty to say later, but right now I can’t be fucking bothered. But hey, don’t forget, next Friday those of us with ink are going to flash it for the rest of you. (keep it tasteful, for fuck sake) If you’ve already done a post about your ink, leave me the link in the comments and I’ll just pop that fucker into my post next week. Oh, btw, I just realized that’ll be Friday the 13th and I’ll be on vacation hanging out with my tiny homies. Word, yo. (honestly, what the fuck does that even mean? “word?” which fucking word?)

Anyway, speaking of tasteful, I’ve got to get back to my new favorite song – “it doesn’t pay to turn up late to an orgy.”

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Fuck, pass the double shot mocha – we’re in for a long day.

s-e-x

Tags

random shit that falls out of my brain, sex

Did I get your attention? Good. Let’s talk. I’m in the mood to talk about sex. If you’re not in the mood to read about it, or fear this may trigger you in some way, I’ll be talking about random weird shit tomorrow – maybe it’d be better if you came back then.

Merbear wrote a post yesterday about oral sex that got me thinking. And then Josh and I spent some “quality” time together yesterday after work and that got me thinking. So here’s what I’ve been thinking…

Why is it so hard for people our age to have open and honest discussions about sex? Like normal, no one gets drugged or hurt, consensual, adults enjoying themselves together, sex. A lot of us are having it, but no one seems able to talk about this kind of sex.

Maybe we feel compelled to make it sound like Penthouse Letters? Maybe we don’t want anyone else to know that what we enjoy with our partner is the same “boring” thing we’ve always enjoyed with them? Maybe we’re still embarrassed about getting physical pleasure from another consenting adult human being?

Here’s my confession, and man, is it a doozy:

I’m a 38 year old woman with a mental illness married to a 41 year old man who also has a mental illness and high blood pressure. We both take meds and we’re both a little on the “fluffy” side. We have fairly regular sex that tends to follow a pretty predictable routine. And it’s the hottest sex I have EVER had.

We don’t do anything overly kinky, though there are almost always “toys” involved. We don’t spend hours going at it. Sometimes it’s a whole week between when we’re able to find time. But it’s the hottest sex I have EVER had.

And it hit me last night why that is – the routine-ness of it means that we both know approximately what to expect and that it’ll almost certainly be just as good, if not better than, the last time. Because we know each other well enough to know what will make the other one feel good. And we both want next time to be even better, so we try. I really believe that that is what makes married sex so much better than casual sex. (and I’ve had plenty of the “casual” variety in my day to be able to make a valid comparison)

But why does no one ever want to talk about this honestly, respectfully, and openly? I’m not saying we should share the intimate details of our lovemaking with the kid bagging the groceries at the supermarket, but we don’t seem to really want to discuss sex in appropriate venues. And I don’t understand that.

Consenting adults enjoying each others bodies in private is a natural, healthy, beautiful thing.

Mama’s advice – go fuck someone you love. They’ll thank you for it.

let’s go, let’s go, LET’S GO!!!

Tags

ADHD, anxiety, bipolar disorder, life, love, meds, mental health, mental illness, moods, motivation, sex, sleep, stress, the world is full of fucking idiots

Indeed my little friend, indeed.

Tuesday, ah yes, what an amazing day. I couldn’t get myself sorted well enough to think straight, but I managed. I pulled off my appointments just fine, learned that the gal I’ve been helping on Tuesday afternoons also has a mental health Dx (and had NO CLUE that I did), and all of my work day interactions with Josh were pleasant. We’d made a “date” for when I got home (code for sexy time) and I was really looking forward to it for the first time in quite awhile.

And then I left work, and it was more like…

I don’t know what the fuck the deal is, but traffic was utterly ridiculous. By the time I made it home I was ready to kill someone. I was hungry and a little tired and just ready to be done with the human race.

But there was Josh, smiling when I walked in. He was relaxed – not uptight like he normally is. He gave me a hug, asked about my day, helped me get a snack. He told me he had felt good all day and like he still had some energy. That was huge. Usually by the time he gets done with work he’s spent. Yesterday he said he felt a little younger, a little more energetic, just a little better all around.

And then…

AWW YEA

We had a pleasant evening together, made dinner together, and talked some more before bed. This morning we woke up together, had a few pleasant moments before we left, and things are going good. Gotta say, totally loving this Adderall stuff.

Tonight is class for me. My cow-orker did help me get my web sites fixed (I think I mentioned this?) so that’s good, tonight I should be able to do some final finessing and get everything pretty well ready to roll. There are some other assignments, minor things, that need to be done yet and a big ass paper to write. I’m trying to figure out when I’m going to find time to get that mess done.

Yes, this really is what I look like when I’m pondering something. Particularly the part where there are no pants involved.

And, in other terribly exciting news, I’ll be moving my blog to a new server and it’s own name (the same name, but no “wordpress” business in there) AND I’m going to setup my very own personal/professional website. The very lovely and overly generous Wendy is helping me with this adventure. I’m even going to drag Josh into the mix. I told him I’d be recruiting him to help with some of the graphics. We’ll see how this goes.

Y’all can get my bed ready on the psych ward, just in case…

opinions

Tags

abortion, life, random shit that falls out of my brain, sex, the world is full of fucking idiots

If you’ve been visiting me for long you know that I’m pretty accepting of the diversity of opinions out there.  Just because I believe something doesn’t mean I expect everyone else to share in that belief.  I try my best to be respectful of others, but I’m also not the sort of person to continue to surround myself with people who seem hell bent on pushing their opinions on me.

One of my “hot button” issues is abortion.  I’m just going to ask right now that if you disagree with my opinions and would like to leave a comment to that effect, keep it civil and respectful.

I had an abortion as a freshman in high school.  (the morning after pill had not come on the market yet at that point – if it had, I’d have done my best to get one as I was pretty sure I was going to get pregnant)  I was way too young to care for a child and I was not far along at all when it was done – just a matter of weeks.  My parents and I decided that it was the best solution for a very unpleasant situation.

I do not condone abortion as a method of birth control.  I do not condone abortions done after the fetus is far enough along that it could survive outside the womb.  And I do not condone people who condemn those of us who have had to make one of the hardest decisions a woman can make as “murderers.”

A woman I used to be neighbors with was a “friend” on Facebook.  She and I have had heated discussions about this before.  She feels that there is no acceptable reason for a woman to ever have an abortion.  Her opinion.

This morning she posted an incredibly graphic video and a rant about how all abortion is murder and how she cannot understand how anyone could possibly think otherwise.  The video began playing immediately without my prompting and it damn near made me sick.  I really don’t know if the footage was even related to abortion, all I know is that if I had been that far along I wouldn’t have done it.

As with most things in life, situations are rarely black and white.  What about the woman who gets raped and a pregnancy ensues?  Should she be forced to carry her attacker’s child?  What about a girl who is sexually abused by a family member?  Should she be forced to carry a child of incest?  What about a young woman with intellectual disabilities who is incapable of knowing that she’s being molested?

Am I proud of the circumstances I found myself in that resulted in choosing to have an abortion?  Absolutely not.  But I refuse to think of myself as a murderer because I made a decision that seemed like the best way to deal with a difficult situation.

And in case you were wondering, she’s no longer my “friend.”  Not because I can’t accept that she has a different opinion, but because I don’t feel the need to surround myself with people who do nothing but try to make me feel like less of a person.

sex in the age of bipolar

Tags

bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, divorce, life, love, mental health, mental illness, moods, normal, sex

***I have no intention to make this graphic or unpleasant, so it shouldn’t trigger anyone.  I will be frank about the subject.  Read at your own risk.***

Looking back on my formative years now, it’s easy to see that my symptoms of bipolar started to manifest around the time I hit puberty.  I was incredibly moody and withdrawn a good deal of the time, and as soon as I got brave enough I started having sex.  If memory serves I was about 13 at the time – a freshman in high school.  It was a particularly bad idea.

But once I started I didn’t want to stop.  Quite often it was all I could think about.  Any time my boyfriend and I could make it happen, we did.  And then I made the mistake of marrying him and it all went downhill.  I was still revved up and he wasn’t interested because I didn’t read his tiny mind and realize he wanted me to lose 100lbs overnight.  Cue divorce #1.

I started going out on the prowl after that, looking for a man – any man – who was interested enough to get in bed with me.  I had a whole slew of one night stands because I thought that getting a guy to sleep with me was proof that I was pretty.  And mechanical intervention was just not as interesting.

I met husband #2 and we had a great time.  Pretty well as much as I wanted as often as I wanted.  Only it wasn’t enough.  I knew that he found me attractive, but I was so insecure that I needed proof that other men still found me attractive.  So I cheated.

It honestly wasn’t because I felt I was being neglected or that I wasn’t getting enough love at home.  I needed to have that validation from other men and the only way I thought I could get it was by having sex with them.

And then the bottom dropped out of my world.

I was admitted to the psychiatric unit just a few months before I turned 30.  They diagnosed me with bipolar II and started me on meds.  I was in and out of the hospital several times that year, always for med adjustments.  My sex drive completely disappeared.  I didn’t even want him to touch me.

Two years later, when I was much more stable, he left.  I don’t blame him, not one bit.  I had been terrible to him and he needed to move on.  I went back on the prowl.

More one night stands, more shitty “relationships.”  And – sadly – four suicide attempts.  I was given an additional diagnosis of borderline personality disorder.  I meet 8 of the 9 criteria for diagnosis, or at least I did.  I’ve since been through two rounds of DBT and feel as though I’m in a much better place now.

Anyway, then Josh came onto the scene.

I’ll spare you the sordid details of the early days of our relationship – they’re back in the archives if you’re really interested.  He’s a much different human being now than he was when we met.

When Josh and I moved in together I wanted – no, expected – sex every day.  EVERY DAY.  He did his best, but he’s older than me, his testosterone was low, and he was getting drunk every night – not a good combination.

And then I turned 35 and my gynecologist took away my birth control pills.  I’d had my tubes tied when I was 30, but the pill kept my hormones level which majorly helped my moods.  So my doc offered a partial hysterectomy – she took my uterus and my cervix and left the ovaries so I wouldn’t need hormone replacement.

I had to go 6 weeks with no sex after the surgery.  SIX WEEKS.  I know, cry me a river, right?

Josh and I got closer during that time.  We would take time to really talk to each other.  We would touch, knowing it didn’t have to go any further – it couldn’t go any further.  It was so wonderful and so frustrating.

Now we have a sex life that’s probably closer to “normal” for people our age.  Sometimes there’s more, sometimes less, but we try to make time when we can.  And we still spend time just being us and being sweet.

I can’t say for sure that it was that 6 week enforced “dry spell” that did it or not, but I definitely don’t feel like I need to have a constant hook up to feel good about myself.  It’s really very liberating.

tired

Tags

friends, life, random shit that falls out of my brain, sex, sick, work

I went back to work today.  I won’t say it was a mistake, I did live through it, but I’m beat.  This is the first time I’ve been this up and this active in many days.  It really rather sucked.

But I did get to spend some time with some of my pals, and we ordered in really good Italian lunch (which I am burping the garlic of like a fiend right now), and I got caught up on a few things.

Funny bit – I had a meeting with K this afternoon.  Our meetings often involve just sitting and talking about random stuff, which is awesome.  We get a ton of shit done this way, but in our own non-linear kind of fashion.  Anyway, we were talking about another female co-worker – B – and K asks me, “so, do you think she’s gay?”  Now, before you judge what you think is us judging – neither of us really gives a shit.  It makes no difference in the way we’re going to treat her or her ability to perform her job.   It’s just frustrating as hell not knowing because she does put off some vibes that you’d normally expect from a lesbian.  And we don’t feel at all right asking her, because again, totally doesn’t matter.

But this is how I found out that K isn’t gay, which also had me wondering.  Apparently she’s interested in having a man in her life, but definitely not in her living room.  I get that, 100%.

Anyway, where was I?

money down the shitter

Tags

anxiety, family, getting healthy, kids, meds, normal, random shit that falls out of my brain, sex

I had my appointment with the GI doc this morning.  Because the universe is cruel, I had to stop at a gas station on the way there to use the bathroom and then again as soon as I got to the hospital I had to make a bee line straight for the bathroom.  Nice.  Anyway, he was just as pleasant as I had remembered.  (it’s been almost exactly 2 years since I’ve seen him)  He was able to tell me WHAT is happening in my body when I have these attacks, but not WHY they happen in the first place.  It’s not likely tied to food, alcohol, chemicals, meds, stress – nothing that he could conclusively point to.  He said there are a ton of studies being done to try to figure out why “pretty young blondes” are going through this, but no one is having any luck.  Dammit.  The only thing he said was, “did you realize that every time you’ve come in for something since 2011 you’ve weighed just a little bit more?”  No, actually, I didn’t.

This is not at all a good time of year to really even be thinking about starting a diet.  Not living in the Midwest, not participating in the holidays that are typical for a person such as myself, not being a woman who works with other women who are among this city’s best bakers.  No, it ain’t gonna happen.  I’ll admit to being an idiot, but that’s just asking for trouble, and I know better.

So, I’m going to try to do this smart.  Ceiling cat help me…

Ok, I drink lots of fluids every day, which is good – but a hefty chunk of that is sweetened tea, which is not good.  I’ve told Josh that he needs to stop buying me the tea like that.  There’s lots of other stuff that I can drink, and like to drink, that isn’t full of empty calories.  This should be a really easy thing I can do that won’t make me feel like I’m being deprived and, while it certainly isn’t the whole answer, will help.

When I don’t plan ahead well enough I eat too many convenience foods, which are not as nutritious and don’t stay with me as long.  I’m going to try to make an effort to keep healthy foods on hand at work, make myself a sandwich for lunch on the days I don’t have something left over from dinner to take, and stop going to the convenience store for a Danish in the morning.  Yogurt and a granola bar is healthier and might help my digestive issues.

I think that’s plenty to start with for now.  I really want to approach this as “let’s replace one bad habit with a healthier habit at a time” and then hopefully I’ll have very few bad habits left come spring.

*****

The party for the loves yesterday was pretty good.  Had I not already had a hysterectomy, spending the afternoon around that many screaming crazy children would have put me off sex for at least several months.  But the kids in our group were good and the girls loved their gifts.  Uncle Josh cleaned up pretty nicely and behaved himself.  When we were getting ready to leave Mom decided she wanted to go out for dinner so she tried to lean across the table and ask my grandma if Mexican food was ok for dinner.  Grandma, who is near deaf and had her hearing aides turned almost off so she could stand the noise said, “What?  I have to eat a Mexican?”

me and the old man