Brain dump

I just got back from my yoga class, and my body and mind are wide open.

Here is a list of the many things going through my mind…

  • My son lost her first tooth yesterday. Seems blog-worthy. He put it under his pillow before bed and as he did so, already, I thought about being the Tooth Fairy that night. Ten o’clock rolls around and I am warm in bed, my eyes getting drowsy as I reached a good stopping point in my book. Oh shit, I forgot to heist the tooth and put a few coins under his pillow. Back out of bed, cold and in search of my wallet. Five dimes will do it, I thought. And they did — he was super pleased this morning as he smiled at me with a gaping hole in between his bottom teeth.
  • My husband has a cold so he stayed home from work today. He never stays home from work. And I hope he doesn’t again anytime soon. He annoyed the hell out of me with his sniffling and staggering around and moaning about how he had to go back bed. The kids and I did our usual, so he couldn’t avoid us entirely, which made him an inconvenience as I tried to work around his loathing. I already bitched about him to my friend on the way to yoga, but I have to tell it like it is more publicly — MEN ARE BIG BABIES WHEN THEY HAVE COLDS. And I am not going to feel bad about saying so. All husbands and wives get on each others nerves. No sense beating around the bush or feeling bad about talking trash about him on the internet (I already kind of do, but I’m going to let it go). I’m sure I’ll be in love with him again in the morning. He has his good points.
  •  I have talked to many people lately about bipolar disorder, and I am continually trying to make sense out of my mental health history. I am reading a lot, too. All this talking and reading is making me forget who I told what or what I already wrote on this blog. I’m afraid I am telling people the same thing twice, and I am afraid I am writing something I have already written. But maybe the high-as-a-kite feeling I get after  all the deep breathing at yoga has gone to my head. (It couldn’t possibly be aging). All I know is that it feels good not being wound up so tight anymore. Little by little I am coming to terms with mental illness. I don’t want to act like a baby (like my husband) about it and constantly mention it, but I still obviously need to flush out these thoughts. The more I let go, the better off I’ll be. I just have to keep trudging down this path and even keep going backward a little to go forward. I hope I eventually catch up with myself. Which sounds weird, but I already told you, I am mentally ill, so it shouldn’t come as a real shocker.
  • You haven’t heard the last of this nonsense.
  • I received bad news from one of my girlfriends yesterday that one of our friends from college passed away from a drug overdose. He had chronic physical pain due to a football injury and many surgeries. Over the years he declined and often became reckless and lost his grip on reality. I imagine that he was depressed, and I don’t know what kind of pain killers he was on or any other prescription drugs that he was taking, but I feel sad about the news. I feel sad for my girlfriend who lost a close friend. She was a wonderful friend to him. They had a bond from growing up that was always special. I don’t know any other details about his death other than he died from a drug overdose, so I feel kind of bad about even speculating, but I wonder, what would it have taken to save him from the drugs? My situation is different from his, but I do take prescription drugs. I don’t suffer from a physical illness so much as mental illness, but the mind and body are interconnected. I can’t stop thinking about all that I am learning about the different types of medication available for mental illness and how delicate the balance is and how some people never find it. He never found it for his pain, and it cost him his life. I’ll always remember him, and while I am hopeful about my future, it’s a reminder to me how important self-care is and if you never get what you need then you become a victim. Honesty about your health and problems is so important to get help and the right kind and fight for yourself. I wish my friend could have found a peaceful place in life.
  • That’s what I am trying to do now. I didn’t become bipolar overnight, and I know that I never fully recovered from having postpartum psychosis twice. I would say that at this point, I am in recovery again. I obviously recovered enough to get out of the hospital and function and take very good care of my family. But the piece that has always been missing is the healing. Until you heal, I don’t think a full recovery is possible. I am finally ready to start the rest of my life, but it is going to take me time to unravel and dispel years worth of hidden secrets that have done nothing but fester in my mind and cause me anxiety, mania, and depression. I have a great life and a great husband (even when he acts like a baby) and wonderful kids who are little and are just starting to lose teeth. I have had a lot of happy moments in my life and I know there will be more, but I HAVE to take care of my mind. To get out of my head. To ask for help. To manage the crazy.
  • One thing that I am realizing more and more is that I have always used writing as a coping mechanism. When I was bingeing and purging in high school, I used writing as a way to work out the problems in my head. It was effective to a point, and writing still is and has been for years. But what I am trying to figure out now is, what is the good stuff and what is the emotional bullshit that I am flushing out? I have always been a writer and had dreams about a big writing career. I still do. But now that I am out in the open about mental illness, I feel a lot of shifting going on in my mind. Thoughts that need to go, and new thoughts coming in that might be worth exploring. That might lead me somewhere. There must be people who are bipolar and write to cope but don’t necessarily want to publish. I write to cope, but I also want to publish. I find myself trying to sift through it all. What do I want to publish and what do I want to keep private? What’s worthy of publishing? What’s my message? What’s the theme? It’s going to take me some time to figure it out, but one thing is for sure — I can’t keep writing in secret and not publishing anything. I started this blog as a tool to help me alongside the more professional writing I want to do. I have to stay true to that mission and throw whatever comes to mind up on this blog and not over think, even when my thoughts are all over the place.
  • End brain dump. (Note: The WordPress editor is telling me “brain dump” is a cliché and that’s what I titled this post. I am not changing it. It’s just reinforcing my mission to write crappy on this blog).
  • And the good news with that is — I am trying to write a post everyday in the month of February. There will be a lot of crappy unbrilliance (and made up words) to come. I may even end up creating a new genre. Instead of creative nonfiction, it’ll be called crappy nonfiction.

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