Appointment Blahs

Well, my appointment for the mental health evaluation is over. It took me a few days to recuperate from the added stress it caused. I spent added nights of no sleep, added moments of anxious crying, added moments of pulling my hair (which by the way is a real phobia called Trichotillomania) and so many moments of just sitting waiting.

Trichotillomania is a symptom of anxiety that is characteristic of the OCD act of pulling your hair out, twisting your hair, and tugging at your hair. Can you believe it all this time I have dealt with versions of pulling my hair and even the times before my family took to hiding the scissors, cutting it.
One particular moment of real anxiety and stress, Lynn came home to me when I had cut all my hair off and it was shorter than his. WOW, was not his reaction.

I work really hard to just let this 'problem' come out in the form of twisting and tugging on my own hair, but hey to find out that it really is something that other people deal with to. That knowledge makes me feel a little better.

My visit with the Doctor was as it always is, they ask so many questions and I end up crying hysterically at one point of another and then I get to go home. But not until I take the test, the test that is made of the world's most trick questions ever put in one place.

If you look at those little tests they ask you the same question many, many times but just twist the words around. One will say do you, the next will be you don't and on and on. It really is a tricky thing and just another part of these little evaluations.

The most ironic part of the evaluation was the Doctor's admission that I was truly Bipolar and not one of the many he sees that are making it up or one of those misdiagnosed. Unfortunately and rather weirdly in today's world it has become popular to be Bipolar.

We have all heard of the famous actors who are coming out with diagnosis of Bipolar disorder and we have all heard the phrase 'oh, it is because they are bipolar'. I have heard so many people in the last few years jump up and say "I'm Bipolar, that is why...." and then a long list of things that this Bipolar has caused.

WELL, to those people I ask why? I have lived for over 50 years with this thing that has not made things easy. It has caused me so much pain, so many tears, and even the loss of ones I loved dearly. Because not everyone truly believes that this is something I can't help, in some of the world's opinions this is just something I need to "get over and get on with things."

I have been accused of just not wanting to do something or not wanting to go someplace, when the real truth is that I can't.

There are days and moments that I am not able to go among the rest of the world. I can not function when I am and no matter what I do this is just a reality.

I spend my time trying to be 'normal' when the real truth is that this is normal for me.

But what really is normal? Huh, that is the question of the day.

Who Am I? Happy That's Who

The end of another year. Or the beginning of a new one. Really doesn’t matter how you say it because it is simply a door opening into the unknown. What will the new year hold? 

So as I sit at the start of the 37^th New Year with the love of my life I reflect on the past that placed us at this precise moment of history.

We have lost loved ones, gained friends, lost friends, had children, grandchildren, and lived a life that seems more like a movie than real life. When we walked down the aisle we thought we were so adult only to find out through the course of time that we were such “babies” and would be years growing up. 

Our years have seen fund-raising $1000 luncheons with the Governor of Colorado, backyard barbeques with famous (and not so famous) rappers, holidays with bikers, movie nights with friends from all walks of life, Sunday dinners with a house full of “family”, spent time with Tommy Chong among others, and so much more. 

Sure we haven’t had the typical life that most dream about. We have endured hardship, illness, accidents, and pain so intense no words can describe, but the fact we did it together made it bearable.

This wild ride we have ridden is the greatest life I could ever have dreamed.

We’ve seen Y2K, 9-11, wars, threats, fears of all kinds and now I wonder what will be in the future. Will there be more war, will the hungry be fed, will more children be mistreated, and will the homeless have shelter?

Sadly, the mysterious answer to all those questions is not the one we pray for but there will be more war, more will be hungry, more will suffer mistreatment, and more homeless. No matter what the cycle continues.

What will the rest of this new year hold for us? I have no idea but that is part of the fun, the unknown. Whatever will be, will be.

Daily Life of BiPolar Anticipating Appointments With Horror

The week has been a long drawn out affair with many things happening. Life all by itself is hard, I mean what other people can see as just an easy walk through the park, for me can become a journey into the darkness without a flashlight.

I stress about the typical ordeals of life, and that makes me manic most of the time. Falling into the pit of mania is something I have the feeling of doing every moment of my life. For regular people, they skip through things and never give it a thought.

For me, I am an individual who has to remind themselves every second of every day that I have a very tenuous grip on the side of a cliff. That grip might just fail me at any moment. That is my view of sanity. If I allow my grip to fail, I will fall into the abyss, and don't know if I could get out of it.

You see that is the thing I concentrate on every day. I fear the void, but I know it is there, and that makes me more powerful. Ironic, right? But knowing I am just a hairs width away from insanity is a peaceful feeling. I know, I am just quite nuts. Don't fret I know this. That makes me just a little less crazy for knowing it.

Sure it might not make sense to the natural world out there. But you see when I know my limits with sanity then I can control it just a fraction more than when I didn't know.

I make my way back to today's stress. I have a regular 'mental health' evaluation in the morning. It is not like I have not done this same thing a million times, still I have been ill for a week worrying about it. Why worry? EVERYONE asks me. Well, I don't know actually why it makes me sick and why I consume myself with worry, it just happens.

I begin to get sick whenever I know someone is going to focus their entire attention on me. I mean here I will be the only one in the room with a new doctor, and they will look at me. That by itself sends me into fits of anxiety; then they begin the questions that I just don't want to share with them or anyone.

I am not ashamed of being Bipolar, nor do I think it makes me a bad person because I have a mental problem. But all the years of hiding it come flooding back whenever I get put in one of these positions. One where I haven't controlled the inception. One where I a forced to talk to a stranger.

So as the hives begin to spread over my entire body, I scratch without even realizing it, and I watch the clock on the countdown to my appointment. Knowing full well that sleep will not be calling me tonight.

Who am I really? Does anyone know?

Who am I?

As a writer, I am often asked for a bio. This is one of the hardest tasks for me to produce. Creating fiction comes easy as I produce fictional characters and their entire backstory. Their lives become an entire world inside my head, from the day they were born and all through their lives. I see their faces and can feel their emotions.

But coming up with the words to describe myself, now that often leaves me blank. It is not that I don't have a story to tell, it is just finding the right words to put it on paper.

Well, I am a woman who has survived many things. My book The Unbearable Truth of Reality/ Life with Head Injury was just re-released on Amazon.

People are always saying 'this is just too wild to be true' that the things were written could not possibly have occurred.

I chuckle to myself whenever I hear those words because I wish with all my heart that it was not true. But the reality is that every word is true and there are so many instances that are just as unbelievable that were left on the cutting room floor.

Life is unreal and when you deal with an injury like this, well most of the things are hard to fathom. To the naysayers who can't wrap their little minds around the whole story I pray nothing like this ever happens to you for you to learn the hard way that life is wild and hard to believe.