Thoughts, Questions, and a Poem

First and foremost I’d like to thank you all for your comments. They really helped me think about the situation. You seem like a pretty tight group. I am glad I found you. Thanks again.

We have decided to wait until my 19th appointment with the P-doc and see is he can recommend someone good. I’m not sure if I need a referral or something like that to get my insurance on board or if they will pick up my therapy without him. With the talk ever present in my mind, I will try to remain cognizant of how I am interacting with the Fam. I will try to stop being so damned irritable, judgmental, and snappy.

I don’t know about the Zoloft issue ~j~. The P-doc took me off of it because we thought that it might actually be causing my depression. I have been depressed and distant for way longer than the week or two that I have been off of Zoloft.

It is my birthday today. I am 32 year's old. That's cool I guess. I've gotten a lot of stuff in the last few weeks so this has been a real nice birthday gift-wise. I finished my Futurama DVD set. I/we got a new Dell that just replaced the 6 year old Gateway. I bought a RPG game called fate that was loaded on the new Dell. I have already bought the full version. I am currently addicted to it. I haven't even played poker in 2 days now because of the rush it is giving me. And that means a lot; there isn't much that can take me away from my online poker.

On a brighter note I won’t have to make the Tennessee trip now; they lost funding for the moment. That doesn’t hurt my feelings one tiny bit. I was going to get fucked out of some time off anyways.

Today is my first day back this week. They gave me tomorrow off due to my Smoke School trip starting Monday. So I will end up losing only two days off this week. I get tomorrow off, go to Minnesota all week, get Saturday off, and come back in Sunday.

I think I talked about them making me work 11 out of 12 days, and how I was going to pimp my boss on it. Well, I waited until he came in that next morning and confronted him. I was instantly spazzing inside. My heart was pounding in my chest and my breathing became labored. My eyes were shaking in their sockets. My blood seemed to boils in my veins. I was totally scared of how this situation was going to be resolved. I just wanted to run from the room.

Here’s the deal, my boss is an egomaniac. He is a big guy and it is obvious that he was a bully as a kid. He rules by brawn and not intellect. He likes to think that he made a decision, so you have to play on that trait. If I would have came at him all stern and threw fault his way I would get nowhere. So I just instead told him that the other sup was getting 2 days off in the front and 2 in the back of our trip later in the month. I pointed on the calendar at the fact that I was only getting 1 day off. I then just shut up, without saying how much I thought that it was total bullshit, and that I shouldn’t have to find these issues myself and that others should obviously have figured it out on their own when they wrote out coverage for my trip. I stood my giant over-sized printer shaking inside. Hopefully it wasn’t visible He just sat there looking at the calendar quietly. If he would have said just deal with it I don’t know what I would have done, but I know it wouldn’t have been pretty.I spontaneously would have berated him for his lack of insight and inability to run a smooth department. I was in a situation that I couldn’t just run out of the room so I would have had to interact, yet I wouldn’t have been able to act appropriate in the state that I mentally put myself in. It is called emotional intelligence and I am emotionally dumb as shit most often. From the moment he walked in and I was anticipating the conversion, I was all worked up. I felt high and wired. I think this was what one would call a panic attack or anxiety attack. Is there a difference and if there is, w ay pray tell is the differences? I get this way every time that I have any kind of confrontation. It is a huge problem for me. It has gotten me in a lot of trouble at my job. People find my demeanor intimidating when I get like this. They say that it looks like I’m staring right through them with eyes of fire. To play to his ego and to defuse the situation, before I made it a situation, I asked him if he would just look into it for me. This took him off the spot, not making him have to be hasty, and put him back in control. When I came in the next night I found that I had another day off this week. Not great but hey, at least I manipulated the situation and accomplished what I had set out to accomplish. I still hated that panic attack. This will surely be something that I discuss with my therapist when I get one.

I bought a Radiohead CD yesterday and am currently zoning out to it. Mood music: there’s nothing like it. “I wish I was special, so very special, wish I were special, so fucking special, but… I’m a creep.”

An aside. Could someone explain cutting to me? I’m not condemning the act or anyone that does it, I just what to know why. Is it that you feel dead inside and that is your way of feeling alive? It seems to be an act during a depressive state. Shit I haven’t had my liver checked in close to a year because I don’t want the poke from when they draw blood. I don’t know why I am that way. I don’t know why I fear the needle. So I couldn’t even image cutting myself with a blade of scraping with a needle. Does it hurt or are you in a state of numbness to it physically? Are you in a state of emotional numbness and that is the only way that you can feel alive? Answer only if you want to. I am in no way trying to get anyone to read this and feel bad. I am just curious. Shit maybe it will spark a conversion that might actually help someone that cuts. Thanks.

I won’t be posting for a five days or so due to my trip. I want to leave you with a poem that I wrote close to a year and a half ago, about a week after I got diagnosed. I still remember going home and googling bipolar up and reading everything I could find. I remember sitting there with tears in my eyes as I read each symptom and trait of the disorder. Each symptom hit me like a brick. I just kept saying out load that that was me. How could it have been here all along and me never even really know what bipolar was? I truly didn’t know what bipolar was. It’s like how you never really noticed a word being used anywhere, until you learn it, then you hear it on the news and see it in magazines. It was always there for the noticing, you just couldn’t see it until you found it. If that makes any sense. I didn’t even know what manic meant until I looked it up. I went in for anger issues and impulsivity. When he said that he already knew what was wrong with me on that first visit and said bipolar, I said holy shit I’m crazy. All I could think about was that nasty stigma that we hold. The only time that I had ever heard bipolar was when someone went nuts and killed some and they were discussing it on the news. I wasn’t educated whatsoever on the condition yet I thought I was. The media wrongly portrays us all as psychopathic, psychotic loonies that are a hazard to ourselves as well as the community. So here is my poem. I zoned out, my brain totally manic with my thoughts going a hundred miles an hr. I locked my office door at work and it came forth.

See ya next week. Ash out.


What am I?

Through the years my tears swelling,
mind-raping, my madness escaping.
Insane, inhumane. Sane, humane.
Hi. Low. Where to go.
I’m here today, what a boon.
Duality, Introspection,
Hyde’s erection, in my life. Strife.
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
I feel creative. Free-ranging thought flowing.
Thoughts spinning, mind’s winning.
No sleep. Not one peep.
Bad judgment, money lost,
shopping spree, at what cost?
Needless, worthless, mirthless,
heedless, sleepless, reap less.
I can’t get up today.
Dark outside. Dread, drear, dead.
Thoughts keep running. Halt, stop.
I need the sun. Warmth, light.
Fog is thick, never knew I was sick.
Knew something was wrong, amiss.
Had to say sorry a lot.
Chemical embrace.
Where’s my ace? What is this place?
Insanity, let me free.
Journal now, to remember who I am, was.
I’m changing, mind’s rearranging.
Thought expanding, demanding.
Am I babbling yet? Just turn me off. Click.
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Paranoid. Dreaded void. Only grows deeper.
Are they out to get me? Ha. Right?
Never thought I was crazy, figured I was just lazy.
Procrastination was a way of life. Rife.
Friends wane. Time fades.
It always rains, (Autumn,) then comes Winter.
Cabin fever, snow blind. Can’t hide.
Get me off this ride. Sliding down, losing grip.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Letters backwards now. Ha.
Never knew I was crazy,
thought I was just lazy. Who cares! Right?
Anger rolls. Relationships halt.
Is everyone so incompetent? Yes? Yes!
Or is it just me? Or is it I?
Irritation, aggravation, agitation,
Can’t you see, what they’re doing to me?
The train’s jumped the tracks, how to get back?
Never realized my mind’s eye was blind.
I’m lost in myself, the corners’ so dark and different.
My eyes can’t open anymore. I’m tore.
I’m babbling? Idea dabbling, rambling,
brain’s scrambling. See?
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Manic Monday. That’s how it went? Right?
Anger’s back and he’s livid.
Always just thought I was just moody.
Maybe I am anyway. Today, or for life? Rife.
Everyone thinks I’m arrogant, ignoring them.
I’m not. merely losing focus.
Thoughts spinning, internal commotion.
Hocus-pocus I lost focus.
What was I discussing? Please stop fussing,
it seems so loud. It’s getting crowded in there.
It’s tragic, yet magic. Ha. Right?
I haven’t slept for days.
Brain’s swelling, mind’s rebelling.
Fog’s thinning, manic’s winning.
Sleep wanes, invention gains.
Darkness falls again. I can’t win.
Sadness ensues. I lose.
What a ruse. Madness, rues.
Thought these pills were supposed to work.
It’s just a quirk, Chemical Imbalance, if you like?
Have to get you regulated. Sedated.
So you don’t get aggravated.
Treat my family right.
There’s the light.
Spring’s here. Isn’t it queer,
that, that’s enough to make me happy?
Snow’s melting, thoughts pelting.
Looney, Lunacy, so lonely. Ha. Right?
Where’s my head at? Did I forget that?
Alienation, starvation, indignation,
I need a summation, of my illness.
See if a pattern develops,
before darkness envelopes, my life. Strife.
Mental swell-ups, flare-ups, relapse. Collapse.
Back on Earth, the followers are happy, laughy.
Why, oh why, ain’t I? Normalcy please.
I need release. Thoughts never cease.
Thoughts are strange. In need of change.
The gallows’ wire, Hangman’s ire,
no, I’m not there yet. Ha. Right?
There’s the light!
Summer’s here. Ain’t it queer,
that I’m so happy to see the sun.
Feel the warmth on my cheek.
I can see the motes in the rays,
hear them calling better days.
Fog’s lifting, thinning, I’m winning.
Time to get out this bed, clear my head.
The thoughts are coming so fast.
What was I talking about?
Switchback. Brain-ache. Numb pain.
Zombie, lethargy, chronic fatigue,
thinking in mud, I’m a dud.
That’s how it feels today.
Insomnia calls, knothole walls,
descrying shapes, faces, all the flaws.
Counting sheep sucks.
Closing my eyes opens my mind.
Please keep it down in there.
It’s ugly in here. In need of repair. Ha. Right?
Scenario after Scenario,
pours forth from my pillow.
Make it stop, sleeping pills pop.
Sweat pours forth from my pores,
as my mind soars.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Thoughts come so fast I can’t keep up.
The babbling brook overflows.
That’s how it goes. Ha. Right?
Do I really need to get up today? Can I?
Info slows and so do I.
Humiliation, insubordination, contagion,
pestilence of my mind, bane of my brain.
Switching quicker now, I realize to my dismay.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Try to trick my mind, to no avail,
mood music and TV wail.
Still can’t sleep. Dark shrouded lids,
portray my defiance of the sandman.
The epic nightly struggle for supremacy.
He must win in the end. Hopefully soon.
The raving raven raves and smiles.
Smiles that defiant smile. Did I forget to smile?
I’m now close to the grand defile. I won’t let go!
Pride and resolve must be absolved,
before I fall. Sleep or death, my last breath.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Neurotransmitters, exacting in their discontent.
Never knew what they were, this week’s a blur.
Bipolar. What a wondrous euphemism.
Disorder, chaotic, Catatonic. Ha. Right?
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Bipolar.
What am I?
What am I?