Pink and Black

Interchanging mind control/Come let the, revolution takes its toll/If you could, flick the switch and open your third eye/You’d see that, we should never be afraid to die (muse)

I hate this. I absolutely fucking hate this…

I thought about quitting my medication again today. The idea got triggered when I went to the bookstore. I went there to find some research books and my search took me to the ‘Psychology’ section of the store. As I wandered up and down the aisle, looking at book after book of psychological disorders, self-help and technical reference books for nurses and doctors. I got mad. I got really angry. I hated thinking about me being one of these books. I hated knowing that there’s a book written about me that I didn’t write. Everyone and anyone seems to be an expert on bipolar disorder and wrote a book about it. And oh my god! there are so many books on having bipolar disorder! I used to read the books in the ‘psychology’ section because I thought it was interesting; now I hate it! I think it’s a bunch of bullshit! Maybe I hate it, because I still cannot wrap my head around this. I’m sick but I have no limitations. Then how do I know I am sick? Even diabetics have to limit their sugar intake. People with asthma are limited in the physical activity they do. What are my limits? It’s not that black and white. I guess I was wrong because here it is; in black and white! Right in front of me in the ‘psychology’ section of my local bookstore…

Everyone at the bookstore seemed to be moving way to fast today. As I was rummaging through the clearance books a man came barreling in through the door, stood right next to me and proceeded to fling books around; in and out of the bins. He made his way around the table and I strategically took over two bins and held on to 3 books, I thought he might take and read. I wasn’t going to buy them, but I didn’t want him to have them. I could tell he wanted see what was in the bins I was hovering over. I didn’t budge. He left the table and I thought to myself, “What was wrong with that guy?”. I then proceeded to make my way to the reference section. The reference section is usually empty, of books and of people. I was looking for a writing style manual. There was only 1 other man in the section with me. He too seemed to be in a hurry. I never looked at him, but the way he flitted around me, I felt like he needed to be somewhere else quickly. The sound of his windbreaker swishing back and forth as he reached his arm up and down to looks at books then put them back started to annoy me. I wanted him to leave. My breaking point was coming. I locked my jaw tight. I felt the only logical thing to do was to push him soon if he didn’t leave. He finally asked for a book they didn’t have and left. I exhaled. What was wrong with people today? I finally decided to give up my attempts for the books I needed. I paid for what I had and proceeded out the door. A woman paused in front of me as she too was heading out the door. I couldn’t believe it! With everyone such in a hurry today, she was not, but now I was irritated. I gave her a second; she didn’t seem to notice there was anyone behind her. She started to move, but then paused again to look at something…”Move!” I yelled at her. She gave me a startled look and continued on. I wasn’t sorry I did that. I got what I wanted and she learned a valuable lesson.

Having bipolar disorder doesn’t define me but yet it affects every aspect of my life. I can’t work, I can’t concentrate, I have a hard time with people, my family is constantly on high alert around me, I don’t find solace in my friends, sometimes I don’t even enjoy their company. I live in my head. I don’t know how to deal with reality; it’s easier not to. I still cannot figure out who I am. I tend to gravitate towards people with similar dispositions. I have a lot of different groups of friends, but they’re all “depressed” or “depressing” in their own way. Seeing this makes me think that this is normal; so again, maybe I’m not the sick one. I guess the right thing to do is to realize that I have people who like me and enjoy my company. It’s not enough because I can’t maintain the person they like so much. I have to figure this out. Maybe it will just come with time. I’ve noticed that as I get older, I’ve been letting go more. It has only been 3 years since I’ve been diagnosed. I have no choice but to give it more time, but until then, the resistance will continue.

“And what will 2009 bring? Today being the first day of the new year, I actually do not have any expectations for the rest of the year. I’m in a more…let’s call it “controllable” place. I’d like to travel more this year; maybe a move somewhere is in order. Those are my big goals. My little goals are simple; read more, keep my room clean, etc,etc. I do have one goal that I can put into effect right away. I will try not to look past today, enjoy what I can but not live recklessly. Happy Birthday to me!”

Happy Birthday indeed…

The years are going by faster and faster, it seems. In any case, it’s over. 2009 is done. And not just a year, another decade is complete. I’m 30 years old now and it’s hard not to look back and reflect. There was a psychiatrist, Dr. Handle I believe his name was, who had a theory that a person decides to make drastic changes in their lives every 10 years. I remember taking that psychology class when I was 21 and the teacher telling us that theory as he guessed the ages of people around the room. I remember one girl in particular who was an accountant because her father was one and wanted her to carry on the family tradition of accountants. She finally decided that she couldn’t take any more numbers; she was 30 then. I thought she was old. Thinking back these past 10 years some things seems so long ago,and other memories feel like they happened only yesterday.

But this post is not about the past 10 years. I’m not in the mood to reminisce that far. Frankly, I’m not in the mood to reminisce at all.  I take that back; the word I’m looking for is not reminisce, it’s contemplate. I’m not in the mood to contemplate. I don’t have time. 2009 wasn’t that great. It didn’t start out really promising so I’m not surprised. My uncle died because of a doctor’s error and I’m left with scars from a rash I got due to an allergic reaction to a medication. Later on in the year, I got laid off, which was no surprise considering the circumstances following up to it. Then I turned 30, which I think I took a lot harder than I realize. Both situations were difficult; one just exacerbated the other. I can’t say 2009 was all bad. I liked working, but I can’t say that I liked my job all that much. It wasn’t too heart breaking when I was let go. It was a very stressful position. It also wasn’t the first time, I had been laid off. Because of that though, I was able to keep one of my 2009 goals and travel. I traveled a lot and am grateful for that opportunity. I also read more, so I guess I kept 2 of my 2009 goals.

With these outside changes happening, it was only certain that I too would change. And I did. I wouldn’t say it was a very positive change, although it does make me feel good…for the moment. I’ve always been a sensitive person, but I’m more so now. I’ve always been aware of my body, but I’m more so now. I’ve always been a selfish person, but I’m more so now. Humans amaze me. I cannot get over our bodies and  our minds; how we work to survive, how we laugh and grieve, how we rage and heal. It’s as if I’m experiencing being human for the first time. It’s not that bad.

So 2010, what will it bring? I don’t care. Any goals to be made? None whatsoever. Unlike a lot of my other posts, which are long and analytical, this particular post is not. Because it’s unnecessary. It’s all about balance. We can’t have it all, right? Understanding this makes me feel like I still have some sort of control. So right now, I am looking forward to completing that degree, working at the wine bistro and singing karaoke with my friends. It is what it is…

Richardson Grove, CA Sept 8-14, 2009

Day 2: I watched the sun come up from my tent. Well, I didn’t really watch it come up, but I watched the light in my tent steadily progress from dark to light. I wasn’t scared anymore but I was uncomfortable. I was cold and and sore from lying still for so long. Plus, some of the air had gone out of my mattress. I did not sleep well at all. But I expected that. Not having a clock nearby was killing me! I was trying to guess the time. 6am? Maybe 7? I knew it couldn’t be later than 8 in the morning for sure! I listened to see if Robbie and Adrian were awake. They were. I could hear them moving around and trying to talk quietly. I didn’t want to be the first one out of my tent, so I waited and consequently fell back asleep.

I opened my eyes to the sound of movement. Who knows how long I had been asleep? It didn’t matter. I kept telling myself that I was on vacation and time was non-existent. Outside, Robbie was already sitting by the small fire drinking coffee. “Good morning!” he said. “Morning.” I replied and made a detour for the bathroom. I had been holding it for quite some time, which added to my uncomfortableness. Relieved and back at the camp site, I asked about coffee. Robbie informed me that some was made. I poured myself some and joined him by the fire. It was at that moment I saw Adrian run past our site. He turned his head, smiled and yelled, “Morning!” as he flew by. “How long has he been running?”

Richardson Grove, CA Sept 8-14, 2009

Day 1 (conclusion): After such a long and involved day, I know I was looking forward to getting some rest. Surrounded in darkness or what Spongebob might call “advanced darkness”, I lay very still. The owls were out already. They don’t really “hoo!” like you are led to believe when you are a kid. The first time I heard a real owl, I thought there was a coyote or dog nearby howling. Every once in awhile you were aware of the freeway in the far distance because the big semi trucks would rattle as they hugged the corners on the mountain.I thought about the day. I thought about my anxieties as well. Was it worth it? Was it really all worth it? The palm of my burnt hand was still exceptionally warm. I closed my eyes and passed out.

That night I had a “lucid dream”..

Richardson Grove, CA Sept 8-14, 2009

Day 1 (continued): With the fire going and the sun about to set, we sat around the fire and said nothing. I realized to myself that even though we sat in silence there was probably a fury of ideas, questions and things to do that were rapidly firing in our minds between the 3 of us. I imagine if we could actually hear the ideas coming and going within our brains it would sound like a very loud buzzing noise and then a loud CLAP! or POP! I don’t know why. That’s just what I think I would hear. But the only thing that could be heard then was the slow inhaling and exhaling of our cigarettes and Adrian’s ipod softly playing in the background. We watched the fire roar for a bit, I looked up into the canopy of the trees and felt…uneasy. I just couldn’t relax for some reason. I thought that maybe it was because I was just over stimulated today; with the riding around all over the place and those “set backs” happening, I guess it would be hard to relax. I thought this would be a good time to fix myself a drink and get dinner prepared.

Since it was our first night and it was only the 3 of us, we didn’t go too crazy with dinner. It was just hot dogs and chips or something. Last year, I think we just grilled our hot dogs on the grill we brought but this time we decided that over the open fire would be a better choice. Luckily, Robbie remembered to bring his, what I call “hot dog prod”. It’s shaped like a grill fork, with 2 tines, but it can extend and condense like those older radio antennas. Excitedly, Robbie went first. It was a little funny to watch him squatting near the fire carefully turning his hot dog around and around over the flames with a big grin on his face, almost child like. Once Robbie got his hot dog on his bun, he ate happily. I decided, when it was my turn, that it would be silly for Adrian to wait to cook his hot dog since there were 2 tines on the fork. With the request from Adrian to “burn my hot dog, please!” I knew I would have to endure the heat of the fire a little longer than anticipated. Squatting there, concentrating on the odd shape pieces of processed meat turning and turning around and around over the open flame, a meditative state came over me. The fire jumped and hissed…