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? The Grand Illusion of Life

Learning who you are is not an easy task for any child or adult for that matter, but adding bipolar to that only exaggerates by a billion. For me, I learned the art of illusion. My mania was turned inward in the hopes of making it go away. But it did not move it only festered like a cancer within my soul.

That festering led me to have many moments of despair so intense I longed for an end. Imagine being just a small child and wanting out of this thing called life.

Like so many, I felt that this was something I was doing wrong. The thoughts by certain people that being Bipolar is a choice filtered into my mind. So it only made me despise myself even more. And that inner hate led to the thoughts that I was nothing but a bother to the world around me.
My soul was a dark abyss that longed to drag me deep within the reaches of the pit that lived inside my mind. Every day became a struggle to keep from falling off that cliff into the black hole. Even as a small child I knew there was no return from that. But part of the struggle was not to let anyone know what was going on inside my head.

A grand illusion began to surround me. I tried desperately to look like other kids and tried to act like other children, while I hid the many hours spent hidden in the back of the closet questioning God on why I was here. I would beat my head against the wall and even beg for removal from the equation of life. Life went on.

That was my beginning life as a confused and lonely bipolar child living in a world that didn’t acknowledge the existence of this unknown problem.

When truly the grandest illusion of life is simply life itself. Everything we have been taught or seen probably is just the perception that someone else is striving to get us to see. So what is the truth?
Maybe nothing. Maybe everything is just that illusion.

Families we think are the “Leave it to Beaver” bunch are in truth just a group who can put on a beautiful face when the world looks at them. Look at the single face of Jared Fogle (Subway frontman) that seemingly innocent face turned out to be nothing more than a predator. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The “beautiful” people around us have turned out to be predators in their rights are in the same category as Jared Fogle. So who do we tell our children to trust? When is the news filled with people from all walks of life showing their true natures as terrible people? Who do you trust?

Life is the illusion that humanity loves one another, but look around we can all see that isn’t the truth. Does humankind care about anything anymore? Money, social standings, image are just a few things that people consume themselves with above the world around them.

It is excellent and noble when people travel to foreign countries to help those in need, but the truth is that they “step” over all the people around them in trouble to do that. So why not start next door when you are on a mission to help?

Don’t get me wrong I do know there are real people out there, and it is just a shame we have to dig so deep within the bowels of crap the world is full of to find those rare gems of goodness.

Growing up in a small town in Southern Missouri I began my journey to learn who I am and what the world contains. It was going to be a long and hard trip. A single trip and a very confusing one. But it was a journey I needed to take and one I have come out on the other end much wiser than I began.

No matter where this journey takes me I still feel slightly alone. When I was a little girl (and if I am sincere there are moments still in life like this for me) anyway as a kid I would wonder if I died would anyone miss me?

Stay tuned for more on this challenging trip. It is going to be a bumpy ride so buckle up and hang on.

Is Bipolar Disorder The New IT Disease? A New Coming Out of The Closet

Has it reached a point when Bipolar Disorder is now the IT illness? With the insurgence of celebrities that have ‘come out’ to tell the world they are Bipolar, seriously when did it become the disorder to have?

Recently someone posted on Twitter that their Psychiatrist thought they shouldn't inform the world of their Bipolar Disorder. That statement struck home with me because I was always told to keep it quiet. However, for my personal experience, I didn't see an improvement in my life until I stopped hiding my illness.

My diagnosis came 49 years ago. Yeah, it was a LONG time ago. Long before it was popular, and long before they even called it BiPolar, for me it was Manic Depressive Disorder. Then out of the blue, it was suddenly Bipolar Disorder, and celebrities seemed to burst at the seams with admissions.

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/statistics/prevalence/bipolar-disorder-among-adults.shtml

Statistically, as the National Institute of Mental Health state on their website, 2.6% of the US population has been diagnosed Bipolar. So 2.6% doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you take into consideration that is 2.6% of 318.9 million people. That translate into 8.3 million inhabitants with Bipolar Disorder in the United States alone.

That’s a lot of individuals.

Bipolar Disorder is a mental illness explained in the simple terms of the definition:

“a mental disorder marked by alternating periods of elation and depression.”

Okay, so it is a mental disorder with ups and downs. That seems simple, right? But when you know Bipolar Disorder you realize that the ups are like the farthest reach of the galaxy, and the lows are the deepest part of the ocean floor.

It can almost feel like an intricate dance that spins you one direction and then back another. Dealing with mental illness is never easy, the ups and downs of Bipolar Disorder stretch any strings of sanity to the very breaking point. So asking someone to hide or deny their problem is only sugar coating a pile of crap. Eventually, the sugar melts and guess what, a bunch of crap is all that is left.

That relatively straightforward to the point definition could be the reason that many Doctors are diagnosing Bipolar  Disorder for a record number of individuals. When the truth is,  overactive or unruly children with difficulty sitting still, paying attention, or even acting out are just doing what kids have done since the beginning of time.

The list of symptoms experienced by someone with Bipolar is a long grocery list of ups and downs. While anyone reading the list could answer yes to most of the symptoms, just remember that when you suffer from Bipolar Disorder, the sadness is the black abyss and the euphoria is riding the clouds.

When you have Bipolar  Disorder, your mood swings are such extreme opposites that it will seem the rest of the world never experiences such highs and lows. It is common for those who suffer from having instances of a god-like superiority. That is all except me; you see I am just that awesome.

Bipolar  Symptoms

mood swings

sadness

anger

anxiety

apathy

discontent

guilt

hopelessness                                                                           

unable to feel pleasure

lack of interest

apprehension

irritability

risky behavior

disorganized behavior

aggression

crying

increased desire for sex

impulsive

self-harm

agitation

delusion

lack of concentration

racing thoughts

the slowness of thought or activity

false sense of superiority

difficulty in falling asleep

sleepiness

depression

paranoia

weight problems could be gain or loss

rapid speech

fatigue

Medications (I don't even want to tell you how many I have used)

Mood stabilizer: The medication that will help control the ups and downs of Bipolar Disorder.

That makes this the one drug that works on both ends of the spectrum of the illness. Mania and depression.

Lithium

Lamictal

Seroquel

Zyprexa

Symbyax

Anticonvulsant: used to treat epilepsy or other convulsive disorders the anticonvulsant drugs have shown they can help relieve the symptoms of mania and slow down mood swings.

Divalproex (Depakote)

Carbamazepine (Tegretol, Equetro)

Lamotrigine (Lamictal ODT)

Topiramate

Oxcarbazepine (Trileptal)

Valproic Acid

Levetiracetam

Antidepressants:

Bupropion

Fluoxetine (Symbyax)

Antipsychotics:

Olanzapine (Zyprexa)

Quetiapine (Seroquel)

Risperidone

Aripiprazole (Abilify)

Ziprasidone (Geodon, Latuda)

Clozapine

Haloperidol (Haldol)

Asenapine (Saphris)

iloperidone

Lurasidone

Paliperidone

Perphenazine

Cariprazine (Vraylar)

Other Medications that can be used to help Bipolar  Disorder

Benzodiazepines

Klonopin (Clonazepam)

Doral (Quazepam)

Alprazolam (Xanax, Niravam)

Estazolam (Prosom)

Flurazepam (Dalmane)           

Diazepam (Diastay)

Chlordiazepoxide (Librium)

Clorazepate (Tranxene)

Lorazepam (Ativan),

Triazolam (Halcion)

Clobazam (Onfi)

Temazepam (Restoril)

Midazolam (Versed)

Antiadrenergic

Clonidine (Catapres)

Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid

Gabapentin (Tiagabine)

Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors/ Norepinephrine

Sertraline

Citalopraim (Citalopram)

Venlafaxine

Duloxetine

Escitalopram

Desvenlafaxine

Calcium Channel Blockers

Verapamil

CNS Stimulants

Armodafinil

When you have Bipolar  Disorder, the lists of medications soon becomes a list of been there and done that. You come to know the names: Lithium, Xanax, a Zyprexa Effexor, Prozac, and countless others as if they were a children’s nursery rhyme.

They are a part of the illness that we don’t often like, and it is common for those diagnosed to stop taking their medications. My personal pharmaceutical history holds more drugs than Pablo Escobar every had and unfortunately when you have dealt with this disorder as many years as I have, you tend to work up a tolerance and have to move to the next one on the list.

Treatment for your Bipolar Disorder means a broad spectrum of things. Medications are needed to regulate the imbalance, therapy of some kind whether it is a group, peer, personal, or institutional, and often cognitive behavioral therapy. Whichever method is best for you is a very personal thing between you and your Doctor.

This blog entry was a glimpse into my journey:  However, that glimpse was just an inkling of the inner workings of my warped mind.

Who Am I?

Who am I? I hate being Bipolar, It's awesome

 Being Bipolar means, I have ups that are higher than most people, and I have lows so low it was difficult to breathe. That is just a daily thing for me, and I have sort of learned to deal with it.

Well, life is not always the easiest, that has been my motto, especially in the last 20 years. I can't believe that it has been that long since I talked to my Mama. 20 years since I sat in that hospital room and watched her take her last breath, 20 years since I had a Mom to go to when I needed that particular moment.

20 years seems like such a long time ago, but it has been. And it has been 15 years since I could tell Daddy I love you and have him tell me he loved me too. Where has the time gone? I still feel like a little girl that just wants her Mama and Daddy.

How do I get over the fact that they are gone? How? People say time will heal all wounds, but it really doesn't. Not really. You just get to where you have cried so much that maybe the tears have a harder time coming, then again maybe they don't.

There are still moments that I can't take it, and I go off by myself and cry for all the moments that I wish they were here, for all the things that have happened that I wish they could have seen.

Mama, I will always need you to help me when I can't figure something out and Daddy, I will always look to you when I want a big hug. But the advice doesn't come, and the hug is not there. That makes more tears fall, and then I am once again that little girl that had a nightmare.

It is funny how I watch some people go through life without the same pain when they don't have their parents anymore. I see some who literally throw them away because they just don't want them around anymore. And I cry because I wish mine were here with every ounce of my being.

So how do I deal with this pain inside of me while trying to hold on to my sanity? I don't know all I know is that I have to. I have to hang on even when my grip gets loose.

The Black Abyss of Terror called a Panic Attack

Panic attacks. By definition, it is a sudden feeling of acute and disabling anxiety. For me, those words simply mean my general day.

Just how does a panic attack feel? To all those who have the fortunate luck of never experiencing one, this is like having a heart attack, thinking you are dying, hyperventilating, dizziness and pure, complete terror.

To the world who thinks this is made up or to those who want you to just 'get over it.' Oh my God I am not making it up, and no I can not get over it. WHY WOULD ANYONE MAKE THIS UP and FOR THE LOVE OF PETE STOP TELLING ME TO GET OVER IT.

The first panic attack I had was when I was just five years old. It was horrifying. My heart began to beat so loud I thought everyone could hear it. Crying, I told my Mama, but she didn't understand this thing that was going on with me. During the 60's honestly, no one understood it.

So, I heard 'get over it and go back to sleep.' It was not something I could just stop. So I lay in the dark, thinking I was going to die.

All I could think about was the pain I felt and the beating of my heart in my ears. I had no idea that this would go on for the rest of my life.

Today, that same panic attack comes on often and without warning. I stress out over the weather. And when I have a Doctor appointment, (I stress the night before an appointment so bad that sleep eludes me,  as if I ever sleep anyway). I stress over payday, over grocery shopping, over knowing someone is coming to visit, I stress over having to talk on the phone, over answering the phone, or the possibility that I might have to interact with someone online, so basically I stress.

So what is my life like? Well, you could say I live in a constant state of anxiety. Bipolar disorder is just one aspect of me, panic attacks are another, but I have learned to stop worrying about those things because that is just who I am.

Fear is an emotion that comes to me over so much. But the hopelessness I feel when a panic attack hits are just another thing I deal with every day. I thank all that is good that I have the support system of the world's greatest family.
If it wasn't for this little group, I call family and their ability to allow me all the eccentricities that are me, well I don't know where I would be.

Life is hard for most of the world. But for those like e dealing with mental issues well it is a little more difficult.

Anytime that the tears begin to streak down my cheeks at random well they just allow me to be me, and I cry.

Who Am I? Does Anyone Really Know

Who am I? Sometimes I really wonder about that. Just who am I really?

Well, I know I am a wife, a mother, a grandmother, and a furry nana. But just exactly what does that mean?

I have no idea. The only thing is that I know I love my family with all my heart and I would do anything for them. Sometimes that means doing things that aren't exactly what I would like to do, but I do them.

So as I sit here once again I have celebrated another birthday without my parents, and without some who are so dear to me. It never gets easier. Not one bit. But it is the way life is, and there is nothing I can do about that.

All I do know is that I wish things were different. I wish my Mama and Daddy were here to call and say "Happy Birthday baby." But no they aren't. If you can hug your parents, then you should do that. I know not all relationships are perfect. Still, it is your parents. Tell your family how much you love them. Because just like a blink of the eye, they could be gone.

To the world I say spend time with your family, tell your loved ones how you feel, live each moment of each day as if there is no tomorrow, and have no regrets. Life is just a fleeting moment in this universe.

Life is such a strange thing. It is difficult to deal with at times and it is unbearable at times. Don't get me wrong I am so happy to have a life that is worth living and I am grateful for all I have. But there is so much about life that I wish was different. I know we can't change the way things are because no matter how much we would like to, it is impossible to make other people feel thing they don't want to feel.

As to the question of who I am; I am me and with that people have to accept that I am Bipolar, There are many, sadly, in this world that think this is just something that is made up. That Bipolar disorder is just a way of getting people to pay attention to us and a way to draw pity from the rest of the world. Haha, that is still so ironically funny to me. Because who in the world would want to be Bipolar, seriously? Why on earth would anyone use that as a way to get attention or make people feel sorry for them.

It took me so many years just to accept this in myself and to those who think it is bull, I wish you knew what it felt like to live inside my head for just a few minutes. Being bipolar is not easy by no means. It is a difficult thing that must be dealt with every second of every day. It is not something you can turn off or put away when you don't want to deal with it.

This is something that I must concentrate on every second of my life. If I forget just a moment then my mind swirls out of control. So you see this is me. That is who I am. If you can't deal with it, there is nothing I can do about that. It is your choice.

Back to who I am, well I guess it means I am just me. That is all. I am the best me I know how to be.

It means that when there is that person who has decided they do not want me in their lives, even though it kills my soul I do as they wish. Sure there are those who don't understand that. But when a person has chosen to hate and throw you away, well there really isn't much you can do. You can not force a person to love you, no matter how much you desire that result.

Who Am I? Bipolar Suffers Deep Dark Depression Excessive Misery, Gloom Despair and Me

My life dealing with Bipolar Disorder has been a jumble of sleepless nights, and both ends of the spectrum of emotions. My ups are as high as they can go and my lows so far down past the point that the average person has ever seen.

My morning began, well began long before the sun rose. If I want to be technical my night and day all merged into one. The air was crisp and the night beautiful, but I just was not in a place to enjoy any part of it.

How can I explain what it feels like inside my head?
Imagine if nothing but angry butterflies filled your head. That may seem ridiculous, but the mental illness of bipolar disorder can feel as if it sends your mind spinning out of control.

The thoughts that float around inside my brain go from having no context to being so deep. Imagine that your body and soul is like a line of dominos situated waiting to fall at just a slight flick of a finger. That is what I feel right now.

It is hard to breathe, hard to swallow. Bipolar Disorder is my life. It is who I am, and it can make life difficult.

The feelings that swarm can feel like a vise is squeezing so tight my ribs might crush. The pounding in my head seems like a million little villagers echoing the arrival of an enemy. Pounding, pounding. Drums that never stop, only get louder.

My arms and hands are numb, tingling. It makes the simple act of typing this blog a tough task. I can't think straight; I can't focus on things. All of that is how I feel today; it is just a day in the life of me. My Bipolar world.

Being Bipolar is such a rollercoaster of emotions that the days like today that go down so fast are some of the most difficult times I experience.

Dealing with the pain that comes from everywhere and nowhere at the same time makes me feel strange. Even those around me that deal with my moments of darkness and quiet solitude have a difficult time. It is not easy to deal with me.

I know they suffer from the desire to make me 'better'. It is just my reality. Sure, it is not perfect, but what part of life is perfection?

Everyone always wants to do something to make it stop, and everyone spends a lot of time saying 'I'm Sorry.' When the real truth is that it is no one's fault it is nothing anyone has done; it is nothing that I have done. It merely just one of the days of my life.

All I want to do is find somewhere dark, wrap in a warm blanket, cry myself into oblivion, and just sit. Depression is that way. Even when you have nothing to be depressed about, that is the actual existence for the Bipolar.

I try to always remind myself 'this too will pass'.Those little words are a mantra in my mind as I know the sadness I feel will cease, eventually.

Who Am I? Spring has Sprung

Spring is one of my favorite times of the year. All the flowers are popping their little heads up and showing such bright, beautiful smiling faces to the world so tired after a long winter.

Easter lilies blooming makes me think of MamEaster lilies blooming makes me think of Mama and when I see the first tulips open up and I remember the Easter Sunday my family celebrated at Uncle Floyd's farm down at Lanton.


It was a glorious spring day the sun was shining, and we were all gathered together having a beautiful day. Then I followed a cousin to the tulips. Following my cousin to the beautiful flowers would prove to be a bad mistake. But we were little kids. Lisa said let's pick 'em. It's okay she said cause Aunt Hazel was her grandma, so it had to be okay. Right?

Well, Daddy didn't see it that way. Boy, was he mad? I had to apologize and then so I wouldn't forget what I had done, they insisted that every picture had to include the tulips. He told me that way I would remember and not pick someone else' flowers without permission again. Boy, it worked on me, Still, couldn't bring myself to pick someone's flowers today.

But what can I say, I love the beginning of each season the crisp, fresh air of fall mixed with the beautiful colors of the trees. Then, as fall has ended in rushes the snow that I totally adore and then we have summer with the warmth that wraps you like a blanket in its arms.

Today I will just concentrate on the beauty of the new growth that fills the trees and the flowers which are poking up to greet me with a vibrancy that is truly magical.

These are all things that being bipolar has caused me to learn to focus on. When my mind stays on point with something even as trivial as the blooming of a tiny flower it makes handling the complexities of life far easier. I have my methods of handling this thing that I was born with, and I hope that others who face the same trials can learn this little trick as well.

Who Am I? A Child That Grew Up In the 60's in an Ozarks Small Town

Growing up in the 60’s was something out of a movie. It was more “Leave it to Beaver” than anything. But then my life took an outside corner. I was diagnosed “manic depressive” at five years of age. Diagnosed at a time when the term bi-polar was not a common name. This diagnosis came into my life long before it was popular to be bipolar.

It most definitely was not popular, and to some degree, I think my parents were embarrassed that I wasn’t perfect. As they put “like my brother.” But it would become part of me, and I would have to come to terms with that.

How do you come to terms with something like this when you are only 5? All I knew for sure was I was told not to say anything to anyone about it, and they wanted me to “get over it” so I could move on.

Obviously, I did not nor could I just get over it. Bipolar is who I am.

Hiding this within me became second nature. Still, I remember the nights of fear when I would have manic episodes and no one to help me through them. I am not condemning my parents, this was a strange thing, and they had no idea what to do. They both were of the period when you got over your ‘illnesses, ’ and they only wanted for me to move on.

Those dark nights when I could hear my heart beat so loud, it felt as if the entire world could hear the pounding that I heard. It was a severe pounding, and I felt as if I would die if I closed my eyes. So night after night when that pounding began and I feared not just death, but absolutely everything, all I could think was that I was not normal.

Not feeling healthy is a horrible thing for a child. And my greatest wish was not to be a problem to my parents.

The mania ran all over me at times. Even to the point, I would get my school pictures, and as the whole class exchanged photos, I would participate only to run around later begging for them back.
It was a tough time living a life that I didn’t understand and having no one to explain anything to me.

I only desired to “get over it, ” and it felt as if it got worse every day. I would be many years before I understood anything.

I hope you will go on this journey with me as I describe what it was like to be bipolar long before anyone talked about it. Hopefully, my story will help at least one person to realize they are not alone.

So welcome, to this story of me. I am BIPOLAR, and I am not ashamed.

Who am I? Panic Attacks, Pain, and Seclusion a Bipolar Moment

Who am I? Well, today I am a bipolar woman who has had a rough month or so. I am just now feeling like I am once again part of the human race. Honestly, I don't know where my mind has been for the last month or so, it has had a mind of its own.

Life is not comfortable, no matter who you are, or what you comes your way. That's just the sad, cold truth of things. But when you deal with Bipolar Disorder on top of what life throws at you, well it can be more of an uphill struggle.

This last month or so, I have had panic attack after panic attack. The episodes have been so bad that for a significant part of the time I have had to use oxygen to help me even breathe. It feels like I can't catch my breath and that makes my heart work even harder. To top off my existence, I have an arrhythmia (Afib) issue accelerated when one of these attacks strikes.

I have kept as secluded as possible during this mentally difficult time, and I am just now feeling like I can join the world to some degree. Sure, I am not the most social person in the world. I would rather stay away from the hustle and bustle that the rest of the society calls life, I like the peace and quiet of solitude. I am the luckiest woman in the world to have a little family that understands I am better off away from crowds.

It is not fun. As a small child, I can remember sitting in the corner of my bed or even hidden in the back of my closet as one would grab me. I felt as if I were dying because I had no idea what was happening. At times I would sit with my hand on my heart wondering if I was dead. It was terrifying, to say the least.

Imagine as a child that your heart is beating so fast you feel like you will pass out and you have no idea what to do. Imagine that everyone tells you that it is in your head. They keep telling you to stop being dramatic. But this is not something that I want to do; it is not something I can make myself no do. The reality of panic attacks and Afib episodes are what life is like for me.

So, here I sit once again needing the oxygen machine to help me calm my racing heart and ease my shortness of breath. Why does this happen? I honestly wish I knew, the only thing I am sure of lies in the fact that it does happen.

Who Am I? Walk In My Shoes During An Anxiety Attack

Who am I? I am a woman of many sides.

Being bipolar is not easy, being bipolar sends me deep within myself at times. That is the time I find it hard to surface; it is as if I am drowning in an ocean all alone. Surrounded by my family that loves me should help and it does, but there are those instances within my head that are just so hard.

So at this moment, I will let you walk with me in this world of an anxiety attack. My heart is beating so fast, it feels like a drum in my head. My head hurts, but not just hurts it is so painful. I feel so scared I can hardly focus, (so you will understand this is hard for me), my eyes are blurry, and I keep looking around like the world is going to collapse on me at any second.

My mind is racing, wondering what will happen next. I keep thinking something is just around the edge, and it is bad. My fear is climbing the scale to leap far off the page. I want to run, but where do I run? Why do I run? I have no idea, but the thoughts are there. I can't seem to stop them.

Where does this fear come from? Why me? Why can't I be like everyone else and control this aspect of my mind? So many thoughts, so much turmoil. It is overwhelming. I want to scream, but I can't. The world wouldn't understand if I stood in the yard and screamed. The neighbors would not appreciate it.

Everyone asks if I am okay. I try to nod yes through the tears that hide just behind the surface of my eyes. But the sparkle must be there. They have to see. But I am like this so often. I doubt they notice anymore. It is just Mom being Mom. But it is awful. I want to curl up in a ball and
have it all go away, but it won't leave.

The pounding of my heart is so loud, I swear the entire world can hear. Can they not hear it? Why won't it slow down? I know I have to make it calm down, or it is another trip to the ER, and I don't want that.

Life, it has moved so fast. Why did certain things turn out like this? I miss, I cry, I wish things were different. But what can I do? People can't be made to love you, they just turn their backs and walk away.

I thank God every second of every day for Lynn, Heather, and Cole. Wow, I know that dealing with me is a handful. The tears, the silence, the anxiety. How on earth do they do it?

Medication, after medication. The drugs only make me feel like a zombie, so what is better this horrified feeling of losing control or zombie?

My tears try hard not to fall, I don't want anyone to see. All I want is for this to end and no one to see that again I am in full anxiety mode. I want to be different, I want to be calm. But it just doesn't seem possible.

I have so much I need to do, but my mind only floats around in this foggy mist of confusion.

Anxiety. It is different for everyone. For me it is often, it is strong, and it has no limits to its torture.

Now I must just remember. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus, focus. This feeling will pass. Won't it?

Who am I? My Journey From Naive to Medical Marijuana Cardholder

Who am I? All you have to do is reach down and grab a handful of sand, make sure you catch clean sand. Now, allow that sand to fall from your grasp to let the grains scatter. That is what we all are, just tiny grains of sand in the Cosmo of the world.

The election makes that knowledge even more prominent. As the small grains in a large pile of sand, no one person seems to make a difference. As just one little grain falls, one direction others will follow. So as you look at the elections remember as a lone piece of sand, we are inconsequential, but like a sand castle, we are strong.

I have gotten so frustrated with the elections and all the lies the candidates want to spread. It is sadly a case of mudslinging every time politicians run for office. However this seems to outshine all eternity with their levels of nasty.

So moving past he said, she said of the candidates I move my focus to some of the issues. And once again I am disgusted with the ignorance of so many individuals who are working to sway voters their direction. Still, they have no clue to the truth.

I am a former medical marijuana patient. The only reason I am not a card holder at the moment is that I am trying to help spread information to the rest of the world.

I did not grow up believing that marijuana had a purpose, I thought it was purely the 'devil's weed.' I assumed anyone who smoked it was going to hell. After all, it was illegal, how could it be okay?

Then, my life changed. My eyes opened. I had reached a challenging point in life. My Daddy had died just a short time after Mama. My identity stolen, our house burnt, and my family disowned me. It was a bleak time for me to say the least.

My psychiatrist had me on so many pharmaceutical drugs I didn't even really know who I was. And I didn't participate in life. It was a black spot in my life.

My mind was foggy, and it just kept getting worse. That caused my doctor to add more and more pharmaceuticals to the list that I took. My Doctor worked to convince me that every pill she added would be the one that made me feel better. She was wrong.

That was when my journey to enlightenment began. After much protest, I succumbed to Lynn flushing my meds, and I was convinced to smoke a joint.

How could this be right, I didn't feel worse I felt better. But my mind was fighting the concept. Marijuana could not be making me feel more human, or could it? Everything in my life and my world told me this was not possible.

That was the just the edge of the knowledge I would acquire over the next couple of years. We picked up and moved to California. It was as if we had transported to an entirely new planet.

Everyone had such a different view on marijuana. No one considered it evil; it was just a plant. Some people used it, grew it, and others didn't. The general public didn't place as much emphasis on it as you might think.

I continued to fight medical marijuana in my life. When you have felt one way for so long, it's hard to just throw that to the side. But I began to look at what it was doing for everyone around me.

We lived in a couple of neighborhoods where most everyone was growing weed. Not where I pictured myself living. It was not what the world thinks when they imagine pot growers. This group of individuals was just a bunch of ordinary people. There was a nurse, construction worker, retired engineer, old hippie lady, parents, grandparents, and just people.

It was not a commune. It was not a drug infested world of laziness. It was hard working people just trying to make their way through this life. There were those dealing with chronic pain, cancer, traumas, all sorts of diseases, and even just average daily stress.

The media tries to push the thoughts that modern medical marijuana would only cater to the hangnail generation. Those people who cry wolf about anything that would get them medical weed.

But the real truth is different. We have to realize that the statistics of individuals who are falsely getting hardcore pharmaceuticals is staggering. That is a REAL problem.

Medical marijuana was not causing even a fraction of the problems that pharmaceuticals were causing. So my world in California was leaning toward the real truth, marijuana was useful.

Finally, I was convinced enough to see a doctor about using medical marijuana. I thought like most people it was just a manner of saying I want to weed and bam you got a card. But, I was so wrong.

The doctor was so knowledgeable and helpful He knew that marijuana had to potential to help not only my bipolar disorder, but it was perfect for my chronic pain and fibromyalgia. So I joined the ranks of medical marijuana card holders.

It was weird. My Doctor helped me to learn the I should stay away from Sativa because it made me manic and he helped me to know that for me Indica could let me join life.

How strange it was to consume marijuana and all of a sudden I was feeling healthy. Or as normal as possible. I wasn't high, I wasn't out of it, and I felt good.


I never got to the point where I liked smoking, so my world became part of the edibles.

So much has been said about the harm of medical marijuana and especially how dangerous edibles can be. Those thoughts come out of the ignorance and lack of knowledge.

To the states that have marijuana legislation on the ballot, I hope the voters will all take the time to listen to people who have been there. Patients, parents, caregivers, and growers. Marijuana does not increase the crime rate of places that include it within their list of medications.

It is a different world that everyone thinks. Growers of marijuana are not drug kingpins; they are patients or caregivers who just want to make life better. The money made from growing marijuana is not purchasing planes or private islands. The money that a grower might make from his crop goes to the local farm store, Walmart, grocery stores, electric companies, and the local gas station.

The reality is that medical marijuana growers are just small farmers trying to get by in this crazy world. They are just people.

Dispensaries are not drug cartel locations where drug dealers and addicts are congregating to buy drugs. They are pharmacies where people of all ages get a medication that helps them deal with whatever ailment they are facing.

The states that have had medical marijuana for years are mesmerized by the rest of the population's misconception on weed.

Arkansas has two issues on the ballot. One is the Arkansas Medical Cannabis Act that will allow patients and caregivers to grow their own and covers more medical issues. Read the full bill at https://ballotpedia.org. The second is an amendment that limits the medical problems and growing.

Both are pro-medical marijuana while the Act would help more people.

I have listened to the news media tell how this will cause crime to rise and take away from the budget. While having medical marijuana legal does not mean crime will increase. Instead, it means people are getting the help they need. Look at the locations where medical marijuana is legal, and their crime rates have even been seen to drop.

Okay, I will admit that with all things there are always bad apples. But the medical marijuana community is a laid back group. Only those who know nothing about the issue are the ones crying wolf.

How can they honestly want to limit the number of illnesses or problems that marijuana could help? No one is screaming that viagra should only help individual cases of erectile dysfunction. Even though everyone has heard of the countless times this drug misused.

Sure one is most definitely not like another, but you get my point.  And when this same media talks about how horrible it is for someone to get medical marijuana if they don't need it, to this I say okay but is it a bad thing? How many people use alcohol to help deal with issues in their life? How many are taking prescriptions when they don't need them?
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Things in life are abused but is that reason enough to keep a child from having life-saving medication to help them live a better life? Should someone be limited from using a natural medication to help ease their pain?

I was one of the masses who thought this way until I learned to open my eyes.

I have lived in a medical marijuana world, and I survived. The one thing I found out above all else was that when it came to marijuana, I was not as smart as I thought.

Learn the truth. Marijuana is just a word, Cannabis is the, and it is a natural plant. One plant that has existed since the beginning of time, a completely all natural by-product of mother nature.

Would you want to keep someone who is suffering from taking medical marijuana just because you think it is bad?

Arkansas will vote in November as will Florida, Montana, and North Dakota on medical marijuana. California, Nevada, Arizona, Maine, and Massachusetts will vote for full legalization of recreational.

The kicker is that everyone knows Colorado has legal recreational marijuana, but did you remember that Alaska, Oregon, and may I have a drumroll please, WASHINGTON DC. Let that sink in just a moment. Okay, now that it has done you realize that where our legislators and our President live they have LEGAL RECREATIONAL MARIJUANA.



I am living mostly outside of medical marijuana states, but I will return to a place that allows freedom of choice in medications.

What needs done is for marijuana/ cannabis rescheduled on the Schedule of drugs.


I am not a criminal because I have used marijuana. I am not a bad person because I believe marijuana is not evil.

Who Am I? Political Beliefs Who WIll You Vote For? What Will You Vote For?

Who am I and where do I come from? Those are not just questions I have asked myself. They are often things people ask me. Those questions follow with where do you live?

The truth is I rarely tell anyone where I live because honestly does it matter? And as we travel the country telling people about the benefits of medical marijuana I may live anywhere at anytime. That sounds weird I know, but it is the truth.

My answer is usually Somewhere in the Universe. For me, my home is where my heart is and that remains with my family. So it has been a lot of different places. Missouri, Branson, West Plains, Springfield, California, Colorado, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, so on and so on.

Part of the overall reason I rarely tell the world my location is my way of keeping as much turmoil and drama from my life. Being bipolar is an ongoing struggle and remaining as far away from drama helps. There is plenty of chaos in my head without the world throwing in crap. It may seem hard to understand, but it is important to my mental state to remain as calm as possible.

So we live our life as we see fit, we have met people, we have interacted with countless lives as we experience what the world offers. And that has taught me so many valuable things.

When we moved to California, I was still enmeshed in my uninformed beliefs about the evil qualities of weed. Then as if a cloud lifted learned just how ignorant it was to fear a plant. After all, this little plant had been created by a higher power, by God himself. So how could it be so evil?

That was the feelings I held firm. Weed, marijuana, ganja and the million other names describe just a plant.

It was uninformed, ignorant of me to fear and hate something that honestly I simply didn't understand. I had always considered myself a reasonably intelligent individual, but I knew very little in reality about marijuana. All I truly knew was it was smoked, and people got high.

The past media blast of telling the world about the 'evil reefer' had apparently gone deep within my mind. Maybe it was only osmosis that this was my thoughts because my parents felt firm about the evils.

Daddy was adamant about his philosophy regarding 'flower children' or 'blooming idiots' as he called the hippies of the 60s. They both felt that smoking the evil marijuana meant they were worthless, lazy and a lower society.

My parents grew up in a time when people were firm with their patriotic pride. They like all of their generation believed in our leaders even when they didn't agree with the policy.

I remember so many times how angry with jokes made about the President. And when it came to the American flag, Daddy was. Anytime I carried the flag at a horse show or rodeo he gave me the same lecture. If my horse bucked and threw me to the ground, I always was to make sure that the flag stayed off the ground. I was to protect the Red, White, and Blue no matter the consequences.

To this day I still shutter when anyone disrespects the flag or jokes about our President. I am not an Obama fan, but I still believe the office deserves respect. I will gladly admit that the politicians of today make it extremely hard not to laugh at them.

Political opinions on marijuana change for the politicians as the winds of the day change. Sadly, most of our politicians whether they are candidates or elected, their views and statements seem to alter depending on what group they are addressing.

As far as what they are promising, does it matter? It is what they do once elected. Will they stick to their beliefs or will they alter as most have done in the past?

Who Am I? Another Member of the Silent Tears Group

Who am I? Well, I am a person who loves with all their heart. That hurts me in ways that words won't describe. So as I look at this time to say Happy Birthday to someone that I am not allowed to say anything to, I feel like nothing else.

There are many people, who are in the same position as I am and that is a real tragedy. But it is just the way life has evolved. People don't get along; families don't talk or have anything to do with one another, brothers and sisters are estranged, children say they hate their parents, and so on.

What can we do about that? Well if anyone comes up with a way please pass it on to the rest of us.

Just because we share blood and family ties does not mean we are close. Just because you carried and raised a child that you would die for doesn't mean that child loves you. Blood doesn't mean much to so many and even less to others.

Life isn't fair. That fact we could all probably agree upon, but it doesn't make it any easier. I send birthday love and wishes to one of the reasons for my silent tears, my you have a beautiful day full of happiness and light. May all your dreams come true. Even though I am not allowed there or in your life doesn't mean my love isn't enormous.

So this is a Happy Birthday to all the children, grandchildren, mothers, fathers, and siblings that people aren't allowed to express. Maybe someday things will change, but until then we must shed our tears in silence.

It is almost as if the entire world is bipolar.

Who Am I? Chaotic Whirlwind of Emotions Flutter From My Head

Who am I? Tumultuous nights move into chaotic days as the minutes and hours flow into brighter lights of noise.

Those dark moments of the evening when my mind is so full of noise that I can't sleep,  are always filled with days so chaotic that I am exhausted. People often talk of the cobwebs in their memories, but for me, those cobwebs filled with spiders that won't contain their movement.

Bipolar disorder isn't easy by any means and the clutter that fills my mind is a by-product of my thoughts.

It is hard to describe to the average person that never felt this way exactly what this chaotic world makes me feel. Sometimes it is as if the world is moving in slow motion with a billion things occurring at once. Okay, so that may seem like everyone feels that way and I guess to a degree we all do. But living with Bipolar disorder is far more complicated than that simple statement.

My chaotic thought pattern is more like a jigsaw puzzle cut into a million extra pieces, and every piece is black. Putting that puzzle together to make sense is nearly impossible. That is how my mind is most of the time.

It has taken me many years to learn the idiosyncrasies of my strange world.

When people hear you have this disorder their first reactions are "I'm sorry." And that happens all the time. But for me after all of these years, I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, cause I don't feel sorry for myself.

Bipolar disorder is chaotic, bipolar disorder is a jumble of thoughts, but they all combine to help create the many artistic things that occur in my life. I love to paint, sketch, write, and anything that allows my inner artist to shine.

Who Am I? Thoughts On a Tilt-a-Whirl Flowing Flitting Can't Catch

Who am I is a tricky question when certain days strike. How do I explain what it feels like in my head? Well, this is as best of a description that I can give to those who have no idea what living with bipolar disorder or any other mental illness is like.

My mind is in a whirlwind. It feels like a tilt-a-whirl gone wrong. There are so many thoughts so much noise that it is hard to focus. I feel as if the actual sense of things is a fog far away.

As a kid when these days would come I sat in terror wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I say horror, but honestly, that doesn't quite explain the feelings that floated through my brain.

There are moments when it feels like the entire universe is talking all at once and I can't quite grasp one single word at a time. They are moving so fast through the corners of my mind that it almost takes my breath away.

Frustration, anxiety, and exhilaration mix with feelings of terror. Those combinations all make me feel tired, scared and give m a sense of wanting to run. Where do I run from the inner reaches of my mind? Where can I hide from the thoughts that follow me even when I sleep? That is if sleep will ever come.

Generally, on these days, nights or weeks I don't sleep. It seems that dreams will not come to a mind that is already so full of confusion. They say no rest for the wicked. So does that make me evil? Just kidding, maybe.

The things in my mind flash by like colors on a rainbow, then just as suddenly as they appeared they morph into a melting rendition of the same rainbow.

Nothing makes sense, but everything makes sense all at the same time.

There is a song by B o B that shows the world what my mind is feeling like at this time.

I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm
I'm out of my mind, I'm out of my mind

Out of my f**king mind
I'm, I'm out of my mind


The lyrics move fast sort of out of control, and as the song continues, it shows a moment in the mind of a bipolar.

These days are spent either at my laptop trying to control any thought I can corral. It might sound like an easy task to any one else, but it is as if I am trying to lasso a swarm of mosquitoes with dental floss.

Round and round the thoughts flow taunting me with their laughter making me want to grab them. But every time I get close they turn the other direction and run. It goes on and on making me tired.

The funny thing is that I often wonder if there is a tiny little line in my head indicating LOADING and it seems to continue endlessly. Loading, Loading, Loading, Loading. Never to finish and at some point, it must be restarted.