7 Billion People

There is so much chaos and heartache happening all around us at any given moment. From acts of terrorism to acts of hate and violence towards each other on the street, it's so easy to become overwhelmed and consumed by it all.

There are people who choose to live blindly and disregard issues. Instead of reading or researching, they simply turn to the latest episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians to numb their minds. Some people become bitter and protective and, instead, choose to live their life at arm's length. Some become so swept into the hurricane of sadness, that they break and bury themselves beneath all the world's pain until they are hollow and unsteady, easily blown down by the gentlest breeze. Some of us can't even see humanity at all anymore.

I certainly don't pretend to have it all figured out. But, I keep seeing and hearing the question of , 'where is the humanity?' I'm seeing this question asked as if it were some great mystery. Truth is, you don't need to look very far.

Tomorrow, or the next day you're driving home from work during rush hour, and you're stopped at a busy intersection, take a moment. Take a moment and look around you. Pay attention to all the faces in the cars next to you, and strain your eyes to see as many as you can in front of you and to the sides of you. Those faces belong to people. Every person in each different car.

Sitting in your car alone, you may be tempted to start thinking of your life. How's everything going with you lately? How's your love life? How are your finances? Are you stressed? Has something been worrying you lately? STOP. STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU. Stop staying in your little bubble inside your car like the windows surrounding you aren't just as transparent as those selfish notions.

You don't need to be torn apart with heartbreaking stories to feel a connection with another human being. Remember, we're just at an intersection. Yes, there certainly are powerful, monumental issues that are nationwide and worldwide. That, I don't have a quick fix for. But, if you want to just experience a momentary note of humanity, here's how: start humanizing.

The young girl in the Toyota in front of you, that's her first car. She worked part time and all through the summer to save for it, and to her, it's everything. Do you remember your first car? All the memories, all the moments you shared with friends. Play the images through your mind like you're watching a slideshow about your life. There are 7 billion people on the planet. Not all of them have first car stories. Some of them have much sadder stories to tell. This Toyota, that is only one of the 7 billion stories that are existing.

Look to your right, and wonder what is bothering the old man with a Santa Claus beard. What has been on his mind? Perhaps, he is worrying about if his dog peed on the carpet again. The woman in the sedan across from you seems disheveled. You wonder if she's even brushed her hair today. She could be lazy. She could have woken up late. She could be a single mother who has sacrificed so much for her kids, including a few moments to herself this morning. She could be depressed, and in her depression lost the motivation for even the simplest tasks.

It doesn't matter if the story is true. The thing is, when you start to think of people as more than just traffic or more than just a long line at the coffee shop, an incredible thing happens. So start to think of them as a young girl late for her first day at a new internship, the future CEO of the next best smartphone company that will eventually make Apple incompetent or a father who just found out he's now a grandfather.

There are an immeasurable amount of moments in your life like this, with an immeasurable amount of passersby. You may never know where all of these people are coming from. Some are getting off work, or returning from school, or just driving through- for so many reasons they are all driving into this same intersection with you. You may be going home to your wife and kids, or to your parents, or to your dog. Everyone at this intersection is also going home, to their home.

At this moment, neither your story nor any of the others truly matter to anything of substance. For these brief few seconds, we are at the same place at the same time.

#hashtag Sign Off #hashtag be more in the moment #hashtag *holding hand emoji*

Today, I decided to go dark from social media. I don't really have a time frame in mind of how long I'm going to last. I just knew that I needed a break.

I needed a break from seeing every meal my friends ate. I needed a break from the mindless dribble that my friends spoke. Every thought was being published online. I needed a break from having the life I live and the life I let others see. It's no secret that we live in a world where it's more important to appear to have a great life than it is to actually live on. I started to feel anxious because I couldn't "keep up".  I started to feel the ridiculousness of it all.

At some point, I've been questioned on whether or not I actually went to an event, or if I was home, or if I was sleeping, etc because I didn't take 500 pictures. If there wasn't an album filled with photos upon photos, then it simply "didn't happen".

At other points, I'd been told something super important by a friend or family member way after the fact, like they were in a hospital or fired or broke up with their significant other. I'd shockingly say, "oh my God, why didn't you tell me?" only to be met with the ever famous, "well I posted it on Facebook."

I have had a friend call, then text, then message, then post - only to accuse me of ignoring them, and have them hurt unintentionally by my lack of answering. In a world where anything and anyone you want is available in a second, the expectation is high in that if I didn't answer, I'd have people mad at me, regardless of how unreasonable. There simply isn't a thing such as "too busy" anymore. "it only takes 5 seconds to send a text", and you better forget using "I didn't have my phone"  as an 'excuse' .

All of this makes me so anxious all the time. I feel like I'm never "turned off"  from the world. I've made honest efforts to limit my phone use and social media use both during the work day and at night. In fact, there's this great app called "Offtime" that I highly recommend. You can set your phone on a timer to automatically disconnect yourself from certain apps, or to only allow yourself access to certain apps. I've set mine to disconnect at ten pm each night from all social media, my Web browser, and even calls and texts (though there are a few people whom I have given permissions to in the event of an emergency.)

I miss the days of a dial-up connection. Where you had to choose between calling or the Internet. I miss the days before cell phones. I miss when if someone wanted to get in touch with you, they'd have to wait until you got home. And if someone left a voice mail, they understood that you weren't home or were busy away from your phone, and didn't send you multiple messages after accusing you of ignoring them. I miss the days before everyone was so available and everything was so immediate.

We no longer take trips to the library, we simply download the book via a library app. Or order the book on amazon and it shows up in 2 days. We no longer have to have "street smarts" or ingenuity, because we have Google and YouTube at our fingertips.

It's great, don't get me wrong. I've been able to fix my own car, do my own plumbing, and "life hack" my way through quite a few problems I wouldn't have likely been able to do before. As a girl who has to do most things on her own, it can be a godsend. And considering almost no gas stations carry maps anymore, I don't know what I'd do without Google maps (especially in other states.)

But, generally speaking, we've lost our attention spans. We've lost our innovation. We no longer have to retain information, because we can just Google it. We no longer have to be creative, because we can find someone else who's already done it on YouTube. I'm not making this stuff up. Researchers have been studying for years how our brains have been changing in relation to technology.

If you have a moment, check out this one
. It outlines just about everything I've said up to this point.

So, here I am going to attempt to chronicle my upcoming days free of social media. I'm still keeping my phone, the Internet, texting, and even snap chat open. In 4 days, I'll be heading into the woods to go completely technology free for 2 nights and 3 days. Updates will come daily until then, in which case, I'll chronicle my days in a notebook and transfer my thoughts here upon my return to the world wide web.

Day 1 
In my first 6 hours without social media, I had probably tried to open the Facebook app 20 times. Every time I unlocked my phone I clicked the little blue icon to open Facebook. At first, it was amusing. I even snickered to myself. But after about a dozen times, I started to feel shocked and even appalled. When did social media become a habit? When did it become as second nature as locking my door before I leave the house, or setting the alarm before I go to sleep? After so many attempts, I finally got frustrated with myself and deleted all my social media apps off my phone. It simply wasn't enough signing out or deactivating the accounts. I needed to physically delete them.

Day 2
I kept my data off today as well. I decided unless I need to, I'm leaving the Internet alone until I get home to my wifi. Almost the same premise of "home phones" but for the Internet.
Today I'm also no longer habitually trying to access the icons, mostly due to the fact that they're gone. But, I do notice I don't miss them. I'm not trying to find them or mindlessly going to the page they were on. I'm much more conscious of their absence. Though, I have to use Facebook for some things at work. This morning, I found myself mindlessly scrolling and commenting using my "fake" account for about 5 minutes. It took a couple minutes for me to realize, fake account or not, I was falling into old habits. I turned off all notifications. Even though I HAVE to use Facebook for some purposes at work, I'm making an effort to not even look at the page. And I'm keeping the page closed and opening it each time I need to use it, which is around 2 or so times an hour. It is a bit of a pain to keep opening and closing the Web pages, but it's helping, so I'd rather waste a few seconds and be a bit annoyed than have it continuously open. Thus far, I've had two Facebook friends notice my absence and ask why I took the page down. Other than that, either no one noticed or no one cares enough to ask. I feel much less tied to my phone, and I feel much more relieved. On my lunch, instead of texting and Facebooking and random interweb things, I continued reading Nick Offerman's book, which is amazing. So far, disconnecting myself has proven very beneficial overall.

Day 3 and 4
I had a few other quick moments where I needed to retrieve something from my facebook and therefore activated it momentarily. I never noticed how much I use it like a storage bank. Photos, phone numbers, dates of events and birthdays. It's become the center of my life, honestly.

Then, I went into the woods...

I first arrived in the woods around 2pm. I didn't have much time to be on my phone, but, it wasn't completely disabled until 7pm that night. It stayed off most of the next day, minus a small moment where I wanted to see the time, and my Dad had messaged and called me. He was worried, so to save his own sanity, I called him back. I wish I hadn't because the point was to be unreachable, but- he had been very open about how worried he was about me camping in the woods for weeks. I couldn't let him continue to worry. After that, my phone did not come back on until I was completely home AND showered the next day, which was around 3pm. So, about 44 hours, give or take.

I noticed I didn't miss it. Not at all. I didn't miss being connected. I didn't care who was posting what photo at who knows where. I didn't mind the silence or the absenteeism. Which made me realize, I've been overwhelmed for months with communication. Every day, all day, I've been way too available. The reason I slept so good? My phone wasn't buzzing, nor was there a part of me that feared the 'phantom ring'. I knew it wouldn't go off, so I didn't think about it. When I truly got into the core of what caused me to be so stressed and anxiety filled over it, I had a break down (though Bree likes to call it a break through.) I realized so much of my inner soul had been filled with guilt and fear. I HATED letting people down, to the point where I was letting myself down. I no longer knew how to say 'no, I've had enough'. While half of that likely comes from fear of previous things, another half of it comes from guilt. That's when I realized, I may not know how to fix it, but it's not this. Not this. It's not like I hadn't said no, like when a friend asked me to take her cat. I said no over and over again. It wasn't that I didn't want to, it's that I couldn't. I don't have the means nor space for him. I said no. Over and over again. And yet, guess where he is right now? There's a magic trick to turning my 'nos' into 'yeses'. Guilt.

What I decided, is that I have to remind myself when it comes to saying 'no' to people I love, is exactly how it was with the cat. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't. I can't.

I can't feel responsible for the people I care about making mistakes. I can't feel responsible for fixing their mistakes when no one has ever fixed mine. I am the only one responsible for myself, and I know that, so I take full responsibility for everything in my life. Including this. Including letting the wrong people into my life and manipulate me into draining myself. I am sorry, to myself for giving people the impression that I was worth that, I am worth much more. I forgive, to myself for making that mistake. And I will do better, for myself because only I can change my life.

Some will understand. Others won't. And the ones that don't understand, well, they're just weeding themselves out and proving to me they are part of the problem I am trying to solve.

And with this, I hope I can get over the anxiety I feel over technology. Right now, it feels like every buzz, every flickering light, every twinkle sounding off is a friend in need. And I just can't. I have nothing left to give.

With this realization, I also made a promise to myself to be more mindful of technology and limit it daily. I hate that instead of asking someone if they want to see your vacation and showing them slides when they gleefully (or begrudgingly) agree, it's just literally shoved into our faces. I hate that everyone 'checks in' where they are, at all times, leaving no mystery. That selfies are being taken daily (did you really change that much since yesterday?). That every single moment of our life is captured and shared. There's no privacy whatsoever anymore. There's no solidarity. There's barely even human interaction anymore.

So, I went to the library and checked out a book that wasn't on an app OR bought off Amazon. I also went inside to pay for gas, even though I could've easily swiped my card at the pump. I went and talked to my neighbors on Monday for a good hour.

The most prominent moment I can recall of purposefully leaving technology behind is when I was at the grocery store today. I may be overestimating the exact number here, but it's not by much- half of the people in the store were on their phones. Either looking down on them, texting, scrolling, etc. Or speaking to them. In a room full of strangers, here they are having full conversations with loved ones and business associates. And what I found intriguing about it, is that for the first time I noticed there was no clear distinction between them. Everyone from a 20-something-year-old female to an older plump man in a suit to a squirrelly white-haired woman on a rascal. And even more noticeable, the people who weren't on their phones, seemed just as completely detached from the swarm of humans surrounding them. I thought, "If I asked that man on the other end of the aisle what the woman who just walked by him looked like, he couldn't tell me a single thing about her. Not about her hair, or her clothes, or even her height and weight." So, I made an effort to start 'people watching', and really try to gather in everyone around me. What they were wearing, what their lives might be like, what they were buying and what that meant they were making for dinner. Who were they really? Did they have to cook all 8 of those hamburgers, or were they only making two tonight for themselves? We live in a society, in case you forgot. Full of real, living, breathing, people. Then, even though I was done with my shopping, I decided I'd do a walk around the store, in every aisle, to just smile. I decided to just smile at every single person who actually looked at me in the face. I didn't count how many it was, maybe a dozen. Which, the store was quite busy, so that number seems very small. I mean, there were more than a dozen people in the line I was in and the lines on either side of me, plus the other lines in the store and everyone who was shopping that I just walked by.

Then,  I went to a second grocery store, where I decided to do that thing people used to do and make casual conversation. Yes, speak to a stranger, in person, without a phone between us. Dave came in today to buy tomatoes, though they were out of the ones he wanted. While he was here, however, he thought he would pick up him and his wife's favorite cereals for the morning. Dave also hasn't yet bought a Mega Millions ticket (it's up like record high or something, not too sure), but he thinks he will. Dave complimented me on my written grocery list, to which he said, "I don't see many people doing that anymore. Especially at your age." We talked about his holiday, to which Rosa, my cashier, started to talk about hers as well. I realized while talking to Dave (which wouldn't have happened had I not said to myself, "GO TALK TO A HUMAN TODAY" ) that Rosa has been my cashier probably 50 times in the past year, and this was the first conversation we've ever had that went past the pleasantries of, 'Hi, how are you? Nice weather today. No, not too busy today." I got to know a little about her family and the cookout that they had, and the fireworks they watched, and that she doesn't drink much anymore but when she was younger, Boy! Could she!

I've stopped 'binge-watching' TV for hours at a time, and I've really begun to enjoy reading again. Its only been a short while, ten days or something since my initial 'sign off'. But it feels different. Or, maybe I feel different. Either way, I'm happy where I'm headed.

Small Victories

For weeks, I've been whispering to myself "small victories" whenever I catch myself accomplishing something not particularly extraordinary, but nonetheless a victory for me.

• Having a client rate my material. 
• Realizing a new success at my day job. 
• Finding out I overpaid my gas and electric by so much I won't owe either for at least two months. 
• Thinking I ate crap all day, only to realize I still maintained my nutritional goals. 
• Getting some amazing sleep that's been much needed
• Maintaining my responsibilities while balancing my friendships. 

Nothing has been worth memorializing. Nothing has been much more than what I could expect any day. But, as I am one to openly discuss my symptoms and whatnot, it's the small victories like these that got me back again after two weeks of debilitating depression. After family and friends showed very real concern, to the point where I felt pressure from not only them but myself to seriously consider immediate professional interference. It was like there was no light, just darkness, and therefore no bright side to look for. I tried to keep my head up the way I normally do, but this depression wasn't going down that easy. It was a monster set out to devour me whole. Circumstances leading to it had made me feel betrayed, lost, hopeless. And that just isn't me. I don't like feeling that way, as much as it may be understandable. I don't like holding grudges or being angry, I'd rather forgive. I don't like feeling uncertainty and despaired, I'd rather feel confident and eager. While I overcame the betrayal, I couldn't quite shake the rest. Slowly, I sunk further. Not leaving my house and turning off my phone, even though I had made plans. I just sat. I didn't really cry during the day. I didn't really do anything. I just sat. No TV. No radio. I just stared off. And then, although I wasn't tired, I would go to bed, convincing myself it is an acceptable time to turn off my head for a while. Only then would I cry. And it wouldn't stop. For two weeks this routine went on. Stare blankly, crawl in bed, cry until 2am, wake up at 6, repeat. Though every other method to pull myself out that usually worked had failed, I kept whispering "small victories" . Not just in my head, I whispered it out loud. And seeing it now, that's really all living with mental illness is. A series of small victories helping you to overcome your greatest obstacle.

Thank you to those who provided me with such tremendous support throughout. I know how difficult and draining it is for me when I fall into depression, and I can't imagine how helpless and confusing it must be for you all. Even though it sometimes didn't seem like I was hearing you, I always was. Your kindness and love is no small victory. It is an immeasurable triumph that I am far too proud to have won.

Relationships and the Future

I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. Or I suppose for me, lack thereof. I met a friend's daughter earlier this week, and I was so nervous. I'm not very good around kids, I have very little patience, and unless we're playing (I'm really good at being a kid), I don't know how to understand them on their level. I was so nervous, though, because I really wanted her kid to like me. My friend, Megan we'll call her, means so much to me. And if Megan's kid didn't like me, it'd hurt. Her daughter did like me, however. Smiling, happy, giggly. All 1 years old of her. It got me to thinking about kids...

I've always said I never wanted to be pregnant. Depending on how close you are to me, I've disclosed different reasons. One of them being, pregnancy scares the shit out of me. Having a living creature inside of you, relying on every single thing you do, is beyond terrifying. Another huge reason is *surprise* my mental illnesses.

To start with, I'm already pretty unstable. Add pregnancy hormones, and I'd probably be a tornado. Though, as previously discussed, I don't take medication. So, would I? To save my sanity, would I be medicated? But, now instead of just having my OWN kidney's affected by the lithium and my liver affected by the benzos, I'd be affecting a little developing baby.  Now reason 2, It's still super uncertain of how mental illness is transferred genetically. As much as I've "embraced" who I am, I couldn't knowingly put a child through it. Sure, it's made me stronger, blah blah blah. But I also think it's cruel. A lot of people in my same situation didn't make it as far as I did. And there's no way to tell where my illness will take me in the future. The manias, the depressions... While I've gotten better at stopping them, it's a work in progress. And it will be, forever. How could I put that burden on a child? Especially when I found the statistics...
Children who have a family history of mental illness are 3 times less likely to be adopted.
So, I started to think, instead of having my own child, maybe in the future, I'd consider adoption? Take a child who is already alive, and give them the home they deserve, and the one I wish I had, not that my parents were awful, just that they didn't understand.

However, it is extremely hard to adopt a child when you've been diagnosed with a psychotic disorder. With good reason... as much as I'd want to provide an amazing home for one of those 3-times-less-likely-to-be-adopted children, I can't help but be hesitant myself. I've battled with this for years, and it's never going to be perfect. Even if I have years in between episodes, it still *could* happen. I have hurt near every. single. family. member. AND. friend. over the past 10-15 years. I have never once meant to. Would it be the same with this child? Would I snap in anger? Would I break down and cry over the smallest thing? I've fallen into depressions where I haven't left my bed for days. Who would take that child to school? Help them with their homework? Cook them dinner? I've had manic episodes where I jump into my car and drive all night. Or I stay up for days at a time. What kind of life is that for a child?

And more than that, what kind of life is that for anyone?

I've avoided relationships for years. The last one I was in, I felt like I DESTROYED him in ways. How do I knowingly do that again? How could anyone be that selfish?

I've destroyed friendships that meant everything to me. Some of them, I've been able to rebuild. But not all... To those I've hurt in the past and were never quite able to forgive my selfish, destructive ways, I do not blame you.

I understand, I really do. I don't know if the tables were turned if I could put up with myself. Some days, it honestly feels like the only ones who will truly love me for all that I am; manic, depressed, insane; is my mother and my dog.

But, life isn't easy for anyone. I'm glad I think about these things, and I'm glad I wrote about them to get them off my chest. But, it doesn't definitively create the future for me. That's the thing about living with bipolar... it can, and will, affect your life. But at the end of it all, it's still your life. I AM NOT bipolar. I HAVE bipolar. It does not have me.

No, you're not okay.

First, I can't pretend to be the voice of all mental illness, but I know I'm not alone in this. Full disclosure, these are just my thoughts, and while I've spoken to others about these types of things and they agree with me on them, not all do. Everyone is different.

Now...

I want you to imagine you go to the doctor for a routine check-up. They ask you the same questions, and you answer nonchalantly but honestly. They put the stethoscope to your chest and ask you to breathe in, and out. 

"How's your breathing been?"

 "Fine", you reply, "Same as always." 

"No, it's not,"  the doctor replies, "You can't breathe at all!" 

You find that strange, "No really, I'm fine. I'm breathing right now. Haven't had anything out of the ordinary. A simple cough, occasionally. Nothing strange, though."

"No! You can't breathe at all! You're not breathing right now! You're not breathing!"

That's the best comparison I can think of when I was asked if I was alright, and I said yes, and the doctor told me no. I'm not. A doctor who had seen me for 5 minutes of my whole life. I started to think of friends and family who have said the same, "No, you're not okay." And I start to think, I'm not? I thought I was... I feel fine... but I'm not? 

I get stuck in traffic, and I'm aggravated. "You're not okay." 

I forgot to send an email, and I'm stressed. "You're not okay." 

I think of a friend who's passed, and I'm sad. "You're not okay." 

The reason I'm saying this is because through living with my mental illness, and I'm sure others will agree with me... NOT. EVERYTHING. IS. A. SYMPTOM. !!!

When someone who isn't diagnosed with a mental illness is sad, THEY'RE JUST SAD.

When someone who is diagnosed with a mental illness is sad, they're unstable and need help.

Sometimes, it is a symptom, I don't want to discredit that at all. Depression, anxiety, paranoia, loss of interest, sleeplessness.. they are all symptoms. Sometimes. 

Sometimes, though, a person is just sad. They're just stressed. They just can't sleep.

But they're still okay.

And telling them they are not can make them feel as if their emotions aren't valid.

You know how when a friend thinks you're mad at them, but you're really not, but they just won't quit? 

"I know you're mad at me. Just tell me why you're mad. Please stop being mad at me." 

But no matter how much you tell them you're not mad, they just don't believe you. Until finally, you ARE mad. Not because of any reason they thought of before, but because they just wouldn't stop telling you that you are mad at them. That can happen with mental illness, too.

You tell someone enough times that they aren't okay, they start analyzing too many things until they're not okay anymore. 

I understand people can be concerned, and it's out of love and care. But if you ask me if I'm okay, and I tell you I am, either I REALLY AM OKAY, or I don't trust you enough to tell you if I wasn't. Either way, consistently questioning whether or not I really am, isn't going to solve anything. It only makes me personally feel like I'M not being trusted by you, which will likely only make me colder towards you. 

But, every person is different. The brain is a vast but beautiful thing that we have very little understanding of. It's only been since the 1960's that mental illness reform has really taken place, effectively disproving the stigma that mental illness equals insanity. It's only been since the 1960s that those suffering from mental health started to be considered patients and not inmates, as dangerous and evil as prisoners. It's only been since the 1990s that SSRI's have become popular, like Prozac and Zoloft. We really don't understand enough about it to generalize it in any way.

Which brings me to...

Treatment. What happened to the right to refuse treatment, or at least have a say in your treatment? With Bipolar they act like if someone is 'off their meds', they're immediately going on a stabbing spree or something. I know it can be scary because I might not know when something is happening to me because it's 'in my head', but at the same time, I don't think I'll ever be able to understand the signs I should be looking for if I'm constantly medicated away from them. Chances are, I'd be the first person to realize if something is wrong. I'm also in contact with family and friends daily. They'd LIKELY notice too. It's not like overnight I'm going to turn into a 3 headed monster or float into a never ending abyss. Kidding. I know they're really worried about 'harm to myself or others'. But, again, it won't be something that happens overnight. If it was a person who had, say, cancer. And the doctor offered chemotherapy. And the patient refused, and decided to try holistic medicine or a shaman or something first. Sure, as a doctor and science-based thought process, they might think it's a waste of time and it probably won't work. But, that person is still in charge of their care, so they try the holistic thing out. Why am I not allowed to try my own 'holistic' medicine? Let me try valerian root, coloring, chamomile tea, and yoga. I've become so much more aware of what my own 'manic' episodes look like, and while I can't always control sleeplessness or depression, I do things to counteract them safely. Probably safer than half the meds I was taking. Chamomile tea has never made me throw up daily for a month. Abilify did. Coloring will not permanently damage my kidneys. Lithium has been linked to renal failure.

I know fully well there's a very large chance this method won't work forever. But it might work for a year. Or thirty. Again, no two people who are bipolar are the same. I tried over a dozen different medications and dosages in 8 years of all this. I want to try something else. Just like with the dozen different medications, it became apparent to me at a certain time that either the dosage or the medicine itself wasn't working. What did I do? I saw my doctor! So, I think it's pretty safe to say, if I start to lose myself trying these other methods, I'd see my doctor. I don't have much control over this illness, and I'm going to be struggling with it forever whether I'm medicated or not. I should be able to control how I'm treated. 

This became a little more rant-like than I intended. I suppose once I got going, I had a lot to say. And while I hope you gained something from this, if you didn't, that's okay. Because I gained a lot by saying it.

Today, I saw a psychic...

I'm just going to go right into the dialog because my head is still pretty fuzzy from the events of the day and I can't comprehend it enough to put this into an 'order'.

She asked me what I wanted to know. I told her I had a very bad year last year, and I just need to know if there's good news coming soon.

She started laying the tarot cards. She asked me if I was a drinker, to which of course I replied yes. She said she doesn't judge me, but perhaps I've been thinking about cutting back, and that I'm using it to self-medicate because my emotions have been pretty high. Very true. She said she felt like I was some sort of intuitive, and asked to take my picture. She was sending it to a friend of hers who can usually tell by looking at a person if they have that special 'something'. She asked if I had ever been told I had intuition or felt that I had, and I told her there have been times I have. Once I had an overwhelming feeling to text an old friend I hadn't talked to in at least a year, and all I said was "I'm sorry if this is out of left field, but I feel like I have to tell you that you mean a lot to me. Wherever life takes us and even if we don't talk much anymore or ever again, you've meant a lot to me and I love you." He replied seconds later with, "How did you know I needed to hear that? I lost my job, I've been so depressed, and just thinking bad thoughts about ending it." There have been other instances, but that's one that stuck out in my mind that happened just a few months ago... She said my emotions have been so high and with me being intuitive to others emotions, it's becoming overwhelming, which could be why I've been drinking so much lately as well. Thinking of it now, ALSO every time I've been 'drunk' I've become super emotional, almost like I can't release those emotions until I'm drunk. I've never really been a "sad drunk", so it's been very unsettling for me lately, and it's the main reason I've felt like I need to stop drinking until I can get a handle on my emotions.

She continued laying more cards, some were marked "friendship", "happiness", etc. She said all were pointing to good signs. She said that my career path shows a significant change and that some people who are close to me are going to think it's a mistake, but I need to do it anyway- that my ultimate happiness lies in that career changes.

She said that she sees a relationship in my near future, but she asked if I had difficulty in relationships. I laughed. I'm sure friends and family don't need me to explain this, but since this is a blog, I will. I am extremely selfish in relationships. I hate compromising, I hate any type of fear/anxiety/anger that comes from arguments and hesitations and the intense emotions in relationships. I like to be in control at all times, and while I sometimes feel like I'm 'not good enough', I also have insanely high standards that I don't stray from in the slightest. High standards really aren't a bad thing, and I don't think I necessarily need to 'lower' them, but I don't let anyone in long enough to even FIND OUT if they meet my standards. She said the person who is coming into my life could be a boy or girl (???), and that they probably are a friend of mine already. She said I need to be more open with this one because he's  my friend, he already knows how selfish and unreasonable I can be, and he's well prepared for what he's in for with me. I find this particularly humorous because one of my biggest fears in relationships is my mental illnesses. When I have to inevitably have the conversation with someone about it, it's never easy, and it feels like I'm telling them I have a second head or something. Like I'm going to bring them down, and I'm an abnormal lesser person.

She also brought up my parents at some point, asking if they fought a lot when I grew up. I told her they did, mostly due to my father being an alcoholic. She said I have a lot of issues with my self-worth because of that, it's where a lot of my 'never feeling good enough' comes from. It makes a lot of sense and I'm open to talk about my dad now. My dad went to one basketball game, one play, and one choir concert that I can remember. My mom went to every event I ever had a part in. I remember my mom trying to convince my dad to go to my basketball game and him blowing it off, and I remember her clearly saying, "But John, they're really good, they might even win the championship." It was actually the championship game that he attended. I feel like the only way my dad would attend anything or pay any attention to me or my achievements were if they were 'as good' as the championship game. So, I guess that's where I get that from.

Ultimately, she said I had a lot of good things in my future, things to be excited about, and right now, that's exactly what I needed.

Missing you is like...

It's like writing a song. Where the memories are like music, beautiful and vibrant and it comes to your mind unannounced; but the lyrics are so hard to write because you can't quite figure out what you want to say.

It's like driving. It's so natural when it's been practiced for such a long time. It's second nature, as easy as breathing. And yet, there's a fear and nervousness about it every time you get behind the wheel. And as much as you know how to do this, you can't help the feelings.

It's like dreaming. You're conscious enough to remember, but not conscious enough to stop it from playing in your head.

It's like a blizzard. Small at first, like one small flake, one tiny memory, and slowly builds. You don't notice it building until the ground is covered in white and gray.

It's like falling. And the moments I laugh at our happy memories are the tiny bursts of air resistance keeping me from plummeting just that must faster into the asphalt.

It's like setting a fire in the rain. Small drops of hope and happiness fall around it but aren't strong enough to extinguish the destructive wildfire.

It's like drowning. And the small bursts of reprieve are just enough air to keep me from dying until the waves crash over me again and pull me under.

Lucky 🍀

If I could bring you back
Even just for a day
I’d quiet all the noise
And listen to what you had to say
I’d take the day off work
I’d fill my tank to the top
We’d drive to all the places
We never did get a chance to stop
I’d drive us to Pittsburgh
Under the bridge from Perks
The book we’d quote like scripture
One of our secret little quirks

If I could bring you back
Even just for a day
I’d spend every second
Trying to convince you to stay
We’d listen to our favorite songs
And talk like Emerson and Thoreau
We’d scream all the lyrics
And I’d beg you not to go
We’d walk through the graveyard
Like so many times we had before
We made tales up about the people
The souls no one visited anymore
We talked to these strangers
As if they were our friends
It hurt us that they were forgotten
And this was where their legacy ends

If I could bring you back
Even just for a day
We’d go party with our friends
And drink our beers in The Hideaway
We’d talk like we used to do
About our sadness and our dreams
We’d get drunk off Irish whiskey
And watch the stars as they’d gleam
We’d talk about the future
And space and time and the world
As the Earth continues spinning
We'd be left standing still
We’d talk about the profound
The ghosts we always tried to hide
We’d talk about our demons
And the fears we push aside
You’d tell me wild theories
Warm and comforting like sunshine
Your heart was always so full of love
You could always read between the lines

If I could bring you back
Even just for a day
I’d do anything for that chance
If it meant you didn’t slip away
We’d get a table at the diner
At some long hour of the night
Our last day almost over
You’d tell me it’s going to be alright
I’d tell you that you were loved
Something it seems you always knew
But knowing is not the same as feeling
If only you could’ve loved yourself, too
I’d give anything I had
To not have it end this way
If I could bring you back
Even just for a day

Mania Resurfacing

It started about five days ago. After a very busy and exhausting day at work, I thought I'd have no trouble at all falling asleep. My legs ached, and my eyes felt heavier than bricks. I slipped under the covers around eleven and opened my book, as reading usually relaxes me into a good sleep. My feet wouldn't stop moving, twitching. I tossed and turned, changed my clothes from sweats to shorts, then was too cold and switched to sweats again. I couldn't stop thinking of a particular customer from that day, so I wrote a blog, thinking maybe my mind just couldn't settle down. One Thirty AM. I turned off all lights in my room, rearranged my sheets and pillows, and put on my light deflecting sleeping mask. I jostled around some more. After some time, I peeked out from the mask to see the clock. Two Thirty AM. I finally gave into the idea that I might not be sleeping any time soon. I took a quick shower and put on an episode of Nurse Jackie. The last time I looked at the clock, it read four AM.

Sunday was pretty similar, except I fell asleep around three. Monday I fell asleep around ten PM, and I thought maybe I had kicked insomnia and it was nothing to worry over. Then on Tuesday, I decided to make potato soup, because the weather definitely called for it. I had to do the dishes in order to have enough pans and such to cook as well as have room in the sink. After the dishes were done, I decided to clean the stove before I messed it up again. Which turned into cleaning out the old food in my refrigerator, which turned into cleaning the refrigerator, which turned into cleaning the floor, which turned into cleaning the baseboards and then the walls. Before I knew it, it was almost 8pm, and I still hadn't started the soup. Yesterday, I decided I would just clean my mirror, which turned into cleaning the sink, then the toilet, then the tub, then the living room, then dusting my bedroom. In what seemed like a minute, it was 930pm. I took a sleeping pill and drifted off.

I arrived home today just over an hour ago, and tomorrow is garbage day. I dragged the garbage can to the street, grabbed the stack of mail, and walked into the house. I decided today sounded like a good day for vegetarian chili. I needed to clean my ladle in the sink, so it only made sense to do all the dishes. While the water was warming up, I decided I'd vacuum. I had the idea though that I'd lay Arm and Hammer powder carpet odor eliminator. I sprinkled it in every room, and while it sat, continued to do the dishes. I realized I left a glass of water in my bedroom, so I went to retrieve it. But before I did that, I fixed my bedding (the dog jumps on it and ruins it all day long). Then I picked up his toys, changed my Scentsy wax, and finally picked up the glass. I finished cleaning the dishes and began to vacuum. After vacuuming the carpet, I decided to vacuum the couch. Which turned into folding the blankets, which turned into cleaning my closet and organizing my shoes and cleaning off the kitchen table. Which turned into cleaning my humidifier, which after wiping off the outside, I thought, "Why not take it apart completely, and clean the entire thing inside and out?"I finished the humidifier, came back to the vacuum to wrap the cord and put it away. I started to notice the spare room and all the Christmas decorations that should be organized in their totes. I thought they might be better sorted, organized by room maybe? Or perhaps by size, shape, or material? I sat down to the stack of mail while I pondered how to best tackle that room.
Bills, advertisements, bills, magazines. I opened a magazine called Seventh Avenue, which if you aren't aware, is a sales catalog that gives you sort of a 'store credit', that's insanely expensive and is totally NOT worth it. I'm looking through, and I start to find things I like. After finding a couple of items that are nice, I decide to get a marker and mark them, just for fun. Before I know it, I'm looking into the payments and credit option and thinking, "It's not THAT bad. I do NEED this. I can afford this if I...", and then I see the spare room again. I realize at this moment while holding the magazine and feeling my heart race and the anxiety rise over the organization of the Christmas decorations, that I'm manic.

Through stopping medication quite some time ago, I've become pretty good at noticing when these things begin. My heart never seems to not be racing, and every thought that comes to my mind becomes a priority. I can get paranoid, I can get easily agitated, I can get spontaneous. Sometimes it takes a while for me to notice, and sometimes I've already caused some pretty good damage (shopping sprees I can't afford, picking fights with friends or family, drinking in excess, etc.) I closed the door to the spare room, threw the magazine away, and took a natural anti-anxiety pill I bought from GNC (containing lavender, chamomile, and valerian root.) I decided to type this out while I wait for the pill to kick in.

I also wanted to share with those around me who may have noticed some strange behavior, these are signs that I'm going into a manic episode. Some of them can last just a few days, some can last for weeks. I've learned a lot of methods to deal with this until I come down, and I am confident that now that I've become aware, any strange or erratic behavior you may have noticed, I will be able to control. Starting with now, with today. By throwing the magazine out, and closing the door. I'll take each moment as it comes, and do my best to counteract the intense feelings I'm having right now.

In the meantime, to my friends and family, I appreciate your patience. I know this can't be easy for anyone. And just today, I had to have a conversation with a fairly new but important friend about this thing that makes me 'me'. It never gets easier, or less frightening, to tell someone "Hey, I'm crazy." But, we can't always pick our strengths and weaknesses. We can only make the best of what we've got.