Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
My inner jerk is showing- I'm always surprised when I find that out- what makes me think I could ever hide it in the first place? How clueless... I know I'm clueless about a lot of things, like anybody else. But I think, though that I am, in the ways I believe I am, not as informed as I believe....the ones I kind of cling to. I seem be having some difficulty writing today. It's a usual thing but it's different on different days. Sending... This is a mobile thought.
Monday, February 8, 2010
An alternative direction just maybe.....
Hey could it be? Maybe. I can't, well maybe I can, tell someone about the ways I can't stand myself. In a non productive way of saying it I hate myself just like every other day- here's the except... I know I'm not supposed to.
On some pretty, gooey, sickee, sappy lip service cutseepootsee way I know (yeah know- yeah right) that I'm just wonderful and grand. And I deserve to live and breathe up precious oxygen.
Some where sometime ago some people told me that. I wish they were here now to remind me, maybe convince me why.
Nothing like a wallop of truth like your self, your defective self, being handed to me on a silver-ish platter. Trying to find a job is difficult to do for people who aren't disabled. How the hell can I compete with that when I can't do half of what other REGULARNORMALSMARTNONLAZYINCONTROLOFTHEIREMOTIONS PEOPLE can do? I'm totally screwed.
Screwed? At my DVR appt today I had to tell the tech why I thought my mental probs kept me from being employed. Holy holy did it sound like a bunch of excuses. Sure in the warm and coziness of people who can understand it's fairly easy to have a kind of confidence but out in the real world I feel like a door stop. A lazy shammer with a basket of excuses and a box of kleenex so I'll be ready when they pull out their tiny little violin and play it for me at my umpteenth pity party event. Heavy sigh here.
Having to defend myself while in the midst of defending myself throws me back a truckload of spaces. Pulling myself up from this crap hole...there's a hole in the wall. Losing control...I cried at DVR...I'm so embarrased for not being in control of anything. I have to fight ALL of the time. Myself other people (not physically- I've only ever done that 3 times in my life. I get pissed off at other people for treating me like I treat myself. I want them to prove me wrong. Me trying to prove myself worthy has so far been a lost cause. That makes it even more stinky as I sit in my own thoughts. Self fulfilling prophecy. What's so fulfilling about it - I guess cuz I can say that I was right. That's one flipping thing I have much more control over than anything else and that's flipping sad. Flipping sad I say. Flipping sad. That word flipping is pretty cool. Flipping. Actually the word blog and blogging and blogger and blog anything just won't fit in my head. I've been saying it over and over since I started this BLOG - bloggy bloggy bloggy blog. Blog.
It all has to fo with definitions. What is my definition of stupid. Normal. Disabled. Impossible. You get the idea. If I think stupid is what I do say and think then I use that as a standard to see how I fit in the world. Coping skills, attention to detail and things like those - hell if I compared what I had to do just to make it through a "regular" "normal" day that THEY say is a normal day then heck I'm pretty close to good ol Albert. If you can "take care of your illness then you are golden to the normals. They don't necessarily care what you have to do to get normal, act normal or stay normal. It's just important that you get there and keep yourself there. But once you do everyone wonders why you don't just keep doing it. It's probably because you're lazy or that you just want others to take care of you. You big baby. Oh is baby gonna cry some more?
I can't believe I punched the wall. What an idiot! I can't believe after all of the years I've been working on getting, being and staying healthy that my mind really feels like it hasn't gotten that far from its stink. It's an adolescent hopped up on goofballs or something. Ready for a bloody nose festival.
Yes I'm trying to take into consideration my circumstances. Whacked in the head, unemployed, ignorant as to the ways I can help myself (in process of education), no friends, just starting making my way out into the world, no hobbies, no fun, no money, laptop broke, months behind in rent, I'm old according to the work force, my skills died from under-use because of dang bipolar stink, defaulted student loan, limited support system (growing one though), and I got a hole on one of my socks. I think it's the left one. Blog.
Blog. Blog. Bloggy. Bloggy. Bloggy. Blog. Blog. & blog.
On some pretty, gooey, sickee, sappy lip service cutseepootsee way I know (yeah know- yeah right) that I'm just wonderful and grand. And I deserve to live and breathe up precious oxygen.
Some where sometime ago some people told me that. I wish they were here now to remind me, maybe convince me why.
Nothing like a wallop of truth like your self, your defective self, being handed to me on a silver-ish platter. Trying to find a job is difficult to do for people who aren't disabled. How the hell can I compete with that when I can't do half of what other REGULARNORMALSMARTNONLAZYINCONTROLOFTHEIREMOTIONS PEOPLE can do? I'm totally screwed.
Screwed? At my DVR appt today I had to tell the tech why I thought my mental probs kept me from being employed. Holy holy did it sound like a bunch of excuses. Sure in the warm and coziness of people who can understand it's fairly easy to have a kind of confidence but out in the real world I feel like a door stop. A lazy shammer with a basket of excuses and a box of kleenex so I'll be ready when they pull out their tiny little violin and play it for me at my umpteenth pity party event. Heavy sigh here.
Having to defend myself while in the midst of defending myself throws me back a truckload of spaces. Pulling myself up from this crap hole...there's a hole in the wall. Losing control...I cried at DVR...I'm so embarrased for not being in control of anything. I have to fight ALL of the time. Myself other people (not physically- I've only ever done that 3 times in my life. I get pissed off at other people for treating me like I treat myself. I want them to prove me wrong. Me trying to prove myself worthy has so far been a lost cause. That makes it even more stinky as I sit in my own thoughts. Self fulfilling prophecy. What's so fulfilling about it - I guess cuz I can say that I was right. That's one flipping thing I have much more control over than anything else and that's flipping sad. Flipping sad I say. Flipping sad. That word flipping is pretty cool. Flipping. Actually the word blog and blogging and blogger and blog anything just won't fit in my head. I've been saying it over and over since I started this BLOG - bloggy bloggy bloggy blog. Blog.
It all has to fo with definitions. What is my definition of stupid. Normal. Disabled. Impossible. You get the idea. If I think stupid is what I do say and think then I use that as a standard to see how I fit in the world. Coping skills, attention to detail and things like those - hell if I compared what I had to do just to make it through a "regular" "normal" day that THEY say is a normal day then heck I'm pretty close to good ol Albert. If you can "take care of your illness then you are golden to the normals. They don't necessarily care what you have to do to get normal, act normal or stay normal. It's just important that you get there and keep yourself there. But once you do everyone wonders why you don't just keep doing it. It's probably because you're lazy or that you just want others to take care of you. You big baby. Oh is baby gonna cry some more?
I can't believe I punched the wall. What an idiot! I can't believe after all of the years I've been working on getting, being and staying healthy that my mind really feels like it hasn't gotten that far from its stink. It's an adolescent hopped up on goofballs or something. Ready for a bloody nose festival.
Yes I'm trying to take into consideration my circumstances. Whacked in the head, unemployed, ignorant as to the ways I can help myself (in process of education), no friends, just starting making my way out into the world, no hobbies, no fun, no money, laptop broke, months behind in rent, I'm old according to the work force, my skills died from under-use because of dang bipolar stink, defaulted student loan, limited support system (growing one though), and I got a hole on one of my socks. I think it's the left one. Blog.
Blog. Blog. Bloggy. Bloggy. Bloggy. Blog. Blog. & blog.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
hey look i'm blogging, oh yeah & bipolar
I'm bipolar#2. I have found my magic combo. My corner with its lovely walls have lost their allure, luster and now my face resting against them. They don't meet with my new standards of what is safe in wonderful for me. I used to think solitary confinement would be a blessing, not a punishment. Lithium-lamictal...peanut butter and jelly for me. It's a great combo for any meal. Here I am finally. After a whopper of an episode and 8 years of searching for my magic I am actually here. I'm in the moment. And that moment doesn't scare me or make me not want another one. I actually am looking forward to being around people and actually looking them in the eyes. Actually. Wow!!! Don't worry it's not a mania - lithium remember. Yeah I keep checking myself. What a stinker it'd be if it were. I have to write more later. I wouldn't even be writing here if it weren't for lithium and lamictal. Thank you to the folks who came up with those beauties!!! Hi,...Wow! I have a blog thing. That's so cool!
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