That water may look shallow, but it can still cause your car to hydroplane

I was watching Stephen Fry interviews on the u'tube recently, and he and his interviewer were discussing the question (regarding mania/hypomania) of whether the purportedly 'enjoyable' effects were "worth it," eg, if you get all the "benefits" of a manic (or hypomanic) state, would you still be willing to make a metaphorical 'bargain with the devil,' receiving the 'fruits' from some of the time, and being depressed (or cyclothymic, or affected by SAD, or all of these other details that you never even imagined when you were first diagnosed with an incurable, barely treatable [if you have the serious $$ you need and are less likely to have], deadly, lifelong, life-shortening and life-taking disease).

I think that's a naive question, or perhaps a poor choice of words. If I were asked that question every single day of my life, I would have given a different answer each time. It's a subjective quality, not an objective one, for example, the value of pi. Sort of like Georgia O'Keefe (& Monet, and heck, Thomas Hardy too) would repeat an artistic treatment of a certain subject. The castle's lovely on the postcard, but wait until you see it as the heavens appear to move over it each day, how the natural surroundings appear during different points of different seasons.

If I am not at all manic or hypomanic, but depressed, I will immediately and sincerely assent that not only is it not worth it, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. When my mood is what the uninitiated (the non-diseased/disordered?) typically think of as 'normal,' that is, when I am neither thinking nor acting in a 'bipolar' fashion, the answer is no, it's not worth it and yes I seem normal and not completely and utterly disabled right now but come back later, you'll see.

If I am hypomanic, the answer is well, I have this whether I want it or not so what does it matter? It is what it is and I have to deal with it, so I'm just trying to do the best I can with what little I can. Or, if I am hypomanic, I may get overly irritated by your question; not because of the question itself per se but because of the (to my hypomanic mind) intellectual laziness that leads to proliferations of such questions. If this is the case, the following may apply: A) I become extremely - overly - irritated/angry with you at this point, but do all I can to hold it back and keep you from knowing you pissed me off, which is kind of counterintuitive because if you have no idea what you did and how you did it (much less why), then how can you not do it next time? B) I become extremely - overly - irritated/angry with you at this point, and let you know it, to some number of the degrees on the spectrum of explosive reaction, generally immediate and directed at myself. If this is the case, it will usually deteriorate into a 'mixed-state' (again, FOR ME, this is generally immediate), that is, very unpleasant to be around and quite negative. ) I become extremely - overly - irritated/angry with you at this point, and let you know it, in an overly detailed, sarcastic, and biting way. We've all heard the cliche lamentation of not knowing the mean snappy comeback that will finally put all the stuck-up too-rich teenagers back in their place; I'm the one person in the room who will immediately eviscerate you with a piano wire, so quickly you don't know what hit you and quickly begin to feel vulnerable, and cold. In the interest of brevity I will not litany how any of the frames of mind herein listed can continue, but instead shall return to the question at hand, 'is it worth it?'

And if I am manic, the answer is usually yes, but it's a slippery yes, like one that floated to the bottom of the sink and has to be pulled up through the film of grease at the top, an unavoidable patina. My yes would be lubricated with a tightly-held quickening of fear, because at some point, probably outside of my control, I am going to stop painting and dancing and laughing up here because I will fall down, again. I can get up to the top of the mountain and do as I please, but I do have to fall off of the summit and be utterly exposed to the prowling predator of my own depression, seemingly with no choice but surrender.

So is it worth it? I can speak only for myself, and I'm keeping my answer to myself right now.

Just Another Day

I have two of my nephews over this weekend.  B spent last night here at my apartment and we went to the gym this morning after breakfast (the pool and hot tub are closed).  I cleaned the kitchen while Jeff is still playing World of Warcraft with B.  His brother, C, will be dropped off here shortly, and will be going with me to the store.  After that we will all be here waiting until their mom, K, picks up B and C will stay the night.  All four of us will be going to see Battle: L.A. tomorrow on the big screen down the street.
I'm trying to clean up the place and do laundry etc, get all of my chores caught up, because I have two interviews Monday and may be working all next week.  Wish me luck!

On The Horizon

Well I have been (relatively) busy this week.  I had one interview and have two more (one is a follow-up of the one I had yesterday, it's a working interview which I will get paid for) on Monday.  I hope I can get a job, and KEEP it.  Frankly, we need the money.  More later, I have to go get ready for the day now.

more of the same

I feel as though I am nothing but a let down, both to myself and others, physically, financially, and emotionally.  I feel paralyzed in my own body but don't have an 'egg tooth' to break through my shell.  I can do any work I am assigned, I can do anything, it seems, except land a decent and somewhat-enjoyable job.  I have so much potential and fell as tho I will never get a chance to show of what skills I do have,

The Demon WIthin

I am sometimes so frustrated that among my fibromylagia, chronic fatige and cyclic vomiting syndrome that that would be more than most can handle.  But you know what, all of those things together - 8,000 or so, whereas the bipolar, by itself, is at about 800 millions.  No hyperbole, no joke.
I'm trying to get a job because we need the income and I am tired beyond belief of being a stay-at-home wife,  I am just afraid that no one will hire me, and that no one will give me a chance.  I am an excellent driver and hard worker, I am devoted to getting the job done until it's done, not til the shift is over.
I am as always afraid of failure.  That's all I seem to be able to do is fail.  Perhaps this time will be different?  Oh Goddess Isis I hope so.  Please, Lady of Water, hear my prayer, Ra, God of the Sun, hear my pray.  Sekhmet, Goddess of the earth and my own personal patron, help me to dig out from underneath this pile of rock so that I can walk on my own two feet again.  And Ra, keeper of the sun and daylight, help me to face this new day and new phase of my life.

Now I'm on the Hunt

So last night I spent about an hour sending resumes to about two dozen people who had ads on craigslist (for part time positions exclusively, for now).  I have an interview tomorrow - it's a campaign to try to tackle the problem of childhood obesity.  That's all I know at present.  They are downtown and my appointment is at 11:00 AM.
Also - I know I sent this message out on facebook for most of the folks who read this, but I have a question for my readers: if I were to sell Avon products, would you buy them from me?  I plan to do both online and in-person sales.
Wish me luck in my interview!

Two Dozen

As of yesterday I have two dozen nieces and nephews.  I also consider my friend Kellie's two boys to be my nephews, 'adopted,' as it were.  The youngest was born so quickly her mom had her at home, yesterday in the early AM.
I enjoy being an aunt - I like being able to be a part of these kids' lives, and I like being able to send them back to their Moms & Dads.  I am not going to be having any kids of my own, and being free from that pressure, I think, frees me up emotionally, physically and financially.  I am able to live my own life while (for the most part) setting a good example and being emotionally available for my nieces and nephews.
Even though I'm not a mom, I am a stay-at-home housewife.  This is because my fibromyalgia and cyclic vomiting syndrome, at times, are literally all-consuming.  I had to quit my job because the commute hurt too much, and I haven't gotten one back yet.  I do want to re-enter the workforce, but something easy and low-stress would be best, I think.  My favorite job ever was 7-11, because it was such a low-stress (& low-paying) position.  I think I may try retail sales, but I've also been thinking about maybe applying to a car dealership (there are three within a quarter mile of my home).  When I was in banking, I was consistently (every single month I worked there, including the first one and the 8 months after being promoted to operations, which was supposed to be a non-sales position) in the top five (of the state, not the company) salespersons.  I'm good with people and languages - I do need to brush up on my Spanish before even attempting to do sales in that language again - and genuinely enjoy doing sales as a job (as long as it's a product that is decent, I can't bring myself to try to convince others to purchase something I know is a crappy deal or product).  It would be part-time at first, of course.  I've been thinking about this for a while and I think I will go filling out applications later this week.  I will be looking for something easy, for some extra income as much as to alleviate the boredom that being in pain and not being able to do much creates.
Wish me luck!

Musings

     I have yet to see Black Swan. It just hasn't happened yet mainly because of Jeff's insane work schedule.  Of course, I can go see it myself, and chances are that I wouldn't mind watching it twice.  But I wait, because when I watch whatever it may be - film, TV show, whatever - before watching it again with Jeff I think it takes a little of the fun out of it for him.  He never says anything and maybe he doesn't actually care, but when the film in question is still in theaters (and not Netflix or hulu) I always wait.
     Is it bad or just telling that after seeing the trailer - after each and every of the 20 or so times I've seen it - I always have this little *wish* in the back of my head, if only I had liked ballet and stayed in lessons, I may have had talent! Pfffft *yeah right* all the talent in the world would not have helped me out endurance-wise with my congenital heart condition.  But I digress.  Along with maybe having talent, I maybe could've been a ballerina by trade not just by imagination.  Most people, I think, have thoughts like these.  The romantic 'what if' train of thought is something I think we all fall prey to from time to time.  But my question - is it bad or merely telling - has not to do so much with the romantic notion of what could have been, the life not lived, the 'path not taken,' as Frost put it.  My main motivator in these thoughts I have of being a ballerina?  They are not inspired by the romanticism of the notion itself, nor from the longing for living in pursuit of the arts.  It's 100% because I would be interacting, both in rehearsal, in shows, and backstage, with male ballet dancers.  There have to be some straight ones, right?

A lazy day

I had planned to have a manicure with a sister and her friend today but had to cancel because the pain and nausea together were too much for me to bear at the beginning of my day.  Now as bedtime nears, I am more optimistic for my prospects tomorrow.  My errands tomorrow include going to the store (for my own home and for a friend who recently had back surgery and has two little ones), then visiting said friend at her home (about 30 miles from my home in the more rural area east of Denver), coming home, possibly picking up my K5 Blazer from discount tire, and cooking dinner.  Tuesday I hope to have lunch again w my mom - I have to go down towards her side of town to get the rest of an Rx refill, then plan to spend the rest of the afternoon with be laundry and cleaning, before cooking dinner.  Hopehully Wednesday I will have my K5 back and will be able to see my sister M and maybe do some baking or something relaxing like that.  All of my plans are contingent on my health, and as with my plans today, can fall though at no more than a moment's notice. Sorry, K, next Sunday we will plan to reschedule and hopefully C can join us then too.  Going to sleep, good night interwebz.

An Okay Day Today

     I awoke when my husband's alarm went off - 4:30 MST - and couldn't fall back asleep because of the pain.  I took my phenergan (to prevent nausea/emesis, a side effect of my pain meds), waited 25 miserable minutes, then took my oxycontins (2 X 20mg tabs) and two 10/325 oxycodone.  It took about half an hour for it to kick in fully and allow me to try to get back to sleep, but I was awake for the better part of an hour anyway.
     Shortly after Jeff's alarm went off, right after he got out of the shower, the power went off.  Or, more accurately, some of the power outlets stopped puttin' out the juice, while others were fine.  A call to the maintenance department of our apartment complex informed us that the issue was due to Xcel (the company which has a monopoly of power here in Denver) and there was no ETA as for when it would be up and fixed.  Thank goodness it went out five minutes AFTER his alarm, not five before, or he most certainly would've slept in late.  All I could think about was how many people in this apartment complex are going to be late to the bus or work or school because the power (spottily) went out @ 4:35 AM.
     Anyway, I don't remember Jeff leaving, so I must've gone back to sleep by 5:30 or so.  I got a few good hours in, waking up around 10.  Did my yoga and was extra glad for having awakened earlier that morning, as the two 20mg oxy's were helping me SO much with my exercises.  Didn't make it to the pool but I did make it to the shower.  I even got all nice and ready and put earrings, necklace, nice shirt and jeans, and makeup on!  Now THAT is a good day, just that alone!
     How sad is that, though?  That a 'good' day means taking a shower and making myself somewhat presentable?  I was lucky enough to spend the late afternoon and most of the evening with my dear friend, my 'brutha from anutha mutha,' Jon, and his boyfriend Michael today.  We went on a double date out to eat at a Vietnamese-Chinese fusion restaurant near our home, called 'Golden Saigon.'  I got the chef's plate calamari but it wasn't nearly as good as it sounded on the menu.  In my opinion calamari should ALWAYS be breaded but maybe that's just mah southern roots a'talkin'.
     Just took my nightly pills: 60mg X propranolol (hypertension), 100mg X chlorpromazine (cyclic vomiting and BP II), 25mg X phenergan (nausea), 4mg X xanax (to help me keep from worrying myself awake all night), 40 X oxycontin (so as not to awaken from pain during the night), and 75mg X nortryptiline (cyclic vomiting and depressive side of bipolar).  What a mouthful.  Literally.
    I look back and only ten years ago I could've seen myself being a literal rocket scientist at my age now but the current picture?  Not even close.  I can't even hold down a job bacuse of all the sick days I'd have to take.  I could do it, yeah, but how many HR reps are going to hire a person who would be chronically vomiting in the cubicle next to half a dozen more people?  As if, "Don't worry it's not contagious' will even be believed much less make it more bearable. Please.
    That's all for tonight my dearies! Feel free to email me, leave a comment, or post a comment on my husband's facebook wall (Jeffery Conner DOB 6/8/80).  Til next time, peace and I hope you all feel better than I do!