My life today

It’s the middle of the night and even after taking my night time medication, I’m still wide awake. I was lying in bed trying to think myself asleep, trying to not think, and trying to concentrate on breathing. I would feel like I was drifting—on the verge of sleep—but the skin on the back of my neck would crawl, or I’d get an itch, or a lightning strike of pain would shoot down my leg, and I was wide awake again. My schedule is definitely upside down, and I have to fix it. I can’t allow myself to become a total night owl, sleeping all day while shutting the world out. I can’t allow myself to fall into that hole; it’s too hard to dig out of…

I know I haven’t written in over a month. I go through phases (you can only control bipolar to a point) and sometimes it’s hard for me to find anything to write about. And lately, with all the medication they’ve had me hopped up on, coherency and higher level thinking were not exactly common.
 
My medical issues are on-going, but they aren’t something I want to focus on. If having back pain and needing physical therapy and spinal injections are the worst of my world, I figure life is still pretty great. Since I can’t start school or write (creative writing), I’ve been busying myself with easier tasks. I’ve assembled several wooden puzzles and am in the process of painting them. I’ve gotten back into sketching and am even planning to work on an acrylic painting for my mom. It’s mostly busy work to keep me from going stir crazy, but I’ve found the simple sanding of a small wooden peg can be as therapeutic as a hot stone massage. When I’m not at doctor appointments or painting models, I’m with the family. One night a week is dedicated to watching Ian play football. All three of his games brought rain, which, for those who haven’t been to middle school football games, means cold, wet stands and muddy paths. Still, it’s Texas, and football is my religion.
 
I started seeing a therapist about a month ago. I’ve been told for years and years that treating bipolar means meds and therapy. ‘Fight the battle on both fronts.’ My therapist is nice for a woman who looks like (and sounds like) a loving, cookie baking, munchkin spoiling, world’s greatest grandmother. She seems to know what’s what, though. I actually really like her. She lets me prattle on and only mildly scorns the inappropriate thoughts I share… like my contention that I actually could kill someone if I had just cause (and that the only reason I never would is because I’m smart enough to know that extreme luck is the secret ingredient in the perfect murder). But if I knew for certain my brother’s step-father had hurt him, I think I could kill him. As it is, hurt or not, I certainly wouldn’t stop him from being hit by a bus. I’d probably even smile a bit. What kind of freak paints his toe nails and dresses as a woman in front of a ten year old? I’m all for live and let live, but not at the expense of a child.
I have a laundry list of things to discuss with the therapist. I actually made a list so I wouldn’t leave anything out. We’ve been working on one issue and barely touched on another. In the beginning, she gave me ‘homework’ to do every week. This week, when I asked, she told me with an air of forced politeness that she didn’t see the need to do worksheets right now. Apparently my everyday life provides more than enough discussion material for our sessions. If it weren’t for crazies, lunatics, and assholes, I’d have no one to talk to… Actually, Faye and I were joking about that after my session. If it weren’t for the other people in our lives and the crazy/unexpected/unbelievable/stupid/rude things they do, we would have exactly squat to talk about. It’s only in sharing the stories of her horrid in-laws and her goofy parents and my… well, never mind… that we laugh every day. I joked as I left the therapist office that I was “far more normal that I had any right to be.” It’s a quote from the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Great movie. So, my therapist looks at me with all seriousness and says, “That’s a certainty.” I had to clench my teeth to keep from busting a gut laughing. When your therapist thinks you should be crazier, you know your life is not just nutty, but comically backward.
 
So, a list of good things in my life right now:
·         The love of a good man who saves me from myself daily
·         Cats so loyal that they lay on the bathroom floor while I take a shower (or lay in any room of the house I happen to be in)
·         Financial ability to pursue modeling, sketching, and painting
·         Almost daily conversation with Miss Faye
·         A pantry full of Mini-Ravioli
·         A brick wall for a little brother – Go #65! Woot.
<div style="text-indent: -0.25in; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in”>·         Glitter fake nails that click when I type – and, seriously, GLITTER!
·         Restored internet connection
·         Fridge full of pictures of family and friends
 
Good to remind myself of my blessings… even though I’m happier and more at peace with my world than I’ve been in a long time, it’s always a good idea to think about all of the wonderful things that help you have more good days than bad.
 
I believe that’s all for now. I’m off to sand the edges of a wooden model for a while before going to sleep…
 
I hope for rainbows and leprechauns in my dreams…