December 12

Join the Fun!

Ten Things I Know For Sure.

Tomorrow is another day, things always look better after some sleep.

My mom can beat me every time at a game of Foosball.

Actions speak louder than words especially when it comes to that love stuff.

A good life is knowing people who can make you laugh even on your worst day.

Music can save your mortal soul (says Don McLean, anyways).

Don't give others the power to dictate your mood or happiness.

The mountains are to the West.

Clubs are awesome.  Just as my Mix-Tape Monday club fizzled out, Books 'n' Booze began.

It's not a big deal unless you make it one.

Kiss the cook.

A Glimpse of a Bad Day

Welcome back despair.  How have you been?  Same old, same old?  Good for you.

Me?  I’ve been content and awesome and satisfied with how hard I work to keep you at a distance.  And then you had the audacity to show up and fuck things up.  Pardon my French, but I think after all of the crap you put me through; you can have a few curse words slung your way.  So, fuck you.

Last week I felt the anxiety swelling up and making a heavy knot in my stomach.  A little later the sinking feeling of worthlessness crept in and my skin started to crawl.  And by the end of the day there were tears and I was the worst person in the universe and nobody loved me and I was a waste of space.  I felt claustrophobic in my own body and wanted to get out of it.  I wanted to be out of my skin.

The sky was falling.

I picked up an anti-anxiety prescription the next day and numbed out.  I took deep breaths and did my best to remember that the sinking feeling wouldn’t last forever and that I have people who love me very much.  And my body and my soul and my skin are blessings.  Blessings I have been charged to care for.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

**Things are back to being hunky-dory**

All you Need is Lovie

I used to hate football.  I mean, seriously hate it.

When we moved to Boulder, every Sunday morning during football season Bobaloo would go to the local bar to watch the 11:00 Bears game.  I would usually go with and drink vodka-lemonades and do the crossword puzzle just to get out of the apartment.  I had no interest in the game whatsoever.

And then Lovie Smith happened.  I love Lovie.  All you need is Lovie.  And gradually I started paying attention to the game, and then cheering, and then becoming a full-blown fan.

Nobody in Colorado is from Colorado.  We met a lot of Illinoisans that season.  That season was also particularly exciting because they made it to the Superbowl.

One of the folks we met was Grant.  Grant could tell if his entire week was going to be good or bad based on whether or not the Bears won.  Pretty intense, huh?  I don't know where Grant is these days but I worry for his blood pressure every football season.

During one particularly close game there was a bad play or a bad call, some kind of play that didn't bode well for the Bears.  And I will never forget Grant jumping out of his chair and animatedly yelling, "Jesus Christ!"

And then he sat back down, shook his head and muttered, "Sorry Jesus. Wait, no I'm not.  We all know Jesus is a Bears fan."

September 10

Describe a distinct moment when your life took a turn.

Tough topic.  Gee whiz.  Here we go. 

I moved from Minnesota to Colorado in 2005.  I had never lived away from my family before (except that time I went to college for a week).  We were moving to Boulder and while I had been to Colorado once, I had never been to Boulder before. 

So at 22, I moved 1,000 miles away from the only home I’d known with a boyfriend (Bobaloo) whom I had never lived with before to a city I had never been to.

The day before the move, I remember stacking boxes in my parents’ garage in preparation for the U-Haul.  And while I was excited and ready for my next chapter, I was a little nervous too.

My Pops came out to the garage to check how things were coming along and said something like,

“Well Jillie, I’m jealous that you’re going to make it out there before I do.”

And in that moment, there was something about the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that was so encouraging.  He knew and trusted that I was going to be okay.

There was a clear finality to that sentence; we both knew I wasn’t coming back.

Pops & I at Red Rocks for Neil Young & Crazy Horse - August 2012.

Hang in There

I was around 10 years old the first time I had the feeling that I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up.  That was the first time I remember feeling so sad for no good reason.

Most of the time my depressive episodes are manageable.  I try to embrace them and know that this too shall pass.  It can be a blessing to have very temporary emotions, knowing it won't be long before the sadness goes and is replaced with gentler feelings.

At the ages of 19, 25, and 28 I went through my most serious bouts of depression.

Looking back, those were tremendously stressful ages for me.  A lot of life changes were happening, making me much more susceptible to break down.

And I did.  And it was scary.  And it's something I hope I never get used to.

When I was really struggling, someone told me to hang in there.

And I did.

And that became my mantra.

When getting out of bed was too much of a goal for the day.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

While trying to find the energy to go to work for at least a couple of hours.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

When I drank to feel better, knowing tomorrow the shine would wear off.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

While everyone and everything was overwhelming and scary and merciless.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

When I hurt the people I love most.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

When I felt I had no purpose being here.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

Over and over, I would silently recite those three words. 

I remember hanging on like hell to whatever shred of hope I could muster up that day.  And slowly, but oh-so surely, things got better.  And days were brighter.  And life got sweeter.  And I grew happier.  And living became easier.

And when I think of everything I would have missed,

I am so thankful I hung in there.

Hank and Peggy

Bobaloo planted sunflowers early in the summer.  I think there are about a dozen that are getting ready to bloom.  These are the two plants in our front yard.  I was doing some reading about plant vibrations and how talking to your plants will help them grow.  While I don't think Bobaloo necessarily talks to his plants, he did name them.  Hank and Peggy.



 

 

Have a great weekend!

Brain Stuff

I started seeing a therapist again.  He’s actually the first one who officially diagnosed me.  Ah, memories…

Things in the brain are going well.  I’ve had a couple of freak-outs in June and July but I think it’s because everything just got so busy and I’m a gal who needs some downtime and routine.  Going back to the doctor is more of a preventative thing than anything else.  The goal is to keep learning more coping mechanisms and getting in the habit of breaking them out in real life.  Isn’t it a strange thing having to “cope” with life?

But, I gotta keep that snowball from rolling downhill, don’t ya know?

Hi!

Yikes.  I have got a lot of junk on the brain today.  I am not quite ready to over-share about it, but things are okay.

I have started some long overdue projects over the weekend, one of which is uploading my photos from the computer into a cloud in case the computer decides to crap out.  No easy feat, we have accumulated around 4,000 pics since 2008.

So now I present some of the funny/weird/whatever I found.

I took this first photo by holding the camera out of the window while Bobaloo was driving.  I sent a copy to my Aunt and wrote on the back, "Just a bunch of Colorado asses sayin' Hi!"

 

This next one is my brother and I at my wedding reception (it was Halloween-themed).  I went as Marilyn Monroe and he went as Dwight from The Office.  Has someone had a few cocktails?

 



 

When Bobaloo and I first moved out here, we spent a day hanging out and exploring the city of Denver.  We went to the capitol building trying to find the step that is exactly one mile above sea level.  We thought there would be a huge sign or something to take our picture next to.  Here's reality:

 



 

My family went to Carlsbad, California to see my older brother for Christmas one year.  They had a fire hydrant walking tour.  All of the hydrants were sponsored by a local business and painted by a local artist.  I do not have one picture of me next to the ocean on this trip, but 25 of me posing with fire hydrants.  Dork.

 

 

 

What does everyone got going on for the fourth?

This and That

What's been going on?

Bobaloo made a trip to Minnesota last Friday and got back into town yesterday.  Whenever he leaves I make a big proclamation about the keggers and raves I am going to throw and the stripper pole I am going to have installed.

In reality, I sit on the couch with my afghan and watch a lot of movies.  And I eat a lot of salad and triscuits because the idea of making a meal just for myself seems rather motivated.

I did get out and about a couple of the days.

On Friday night I went over to my neighbor's house and we solved all of the world's problems.

On Saturday I painted fingernails, Raspberry Rush seemed to be the color of the day.

And on Sunday I put on my fancy kicks and went "dancing" with some girlfriends.  And by "dancing" I mean I sat on the patio and drank a lot of beer.

Nik kept me company and amused me with her goofy dog-face.

I am still trying to shake off the summer bummers by being positive and trying to keep busy.  Positivity is a lot of work sometimes, but I'm holding it together.  Well, let's be honest.  There were some tears this morning, but mornings are hard.  Things always look sunnier after lunch.  Speaking of things sunny, Sonny and company (Widespread Panic) are happening on Thursday. And it is impossible to be bummed at a Panic show, at Red Rocks, while hangin' out with my favorite dude.  Good things.

Oh, I also turned my hair and interesting shade of orange over the weekend.  Obligatory pic...

I look like a psychotic cartoon character, too funny not to share.

May 16

 

The 16th day of this Blog Every Day in May challenge has arrived.  Today's topic is Something difficult about your "lot in life" and how you're working to overcome it.  Here we go.

Hmmm…

Today’s topic is a toughy.

I am not sure I really understand the topic but what the heck, I’ll give it a whirl.

I guess I don’t really believe we have a “lot” in life.  We make our own opportunities and some things happen by chance.  When life stuff happens, we can choose what kind of perspective we have surrounding our circumstances.

There was a time after we got married when Bobaloo and I were really struggling.  The job market was miserable and good any jobs were hard to come by.  We were fortunate to always be able to put a roof over our heads and food on our table, but money was always too tight for comfort and we were stressed.  It didn’t make sense; we worked so hard and didn’t deserve this.

At the time the lean years were miserable and frustrating; looking back they seem like a gift.  Out of the tough times, I learned that Bobaloo and I would do whatever we had to in order to take care of one another.  Even when that meant taking awful, awful jobs and dealing with awful, awful people.

I remember sitting on the patio with Bobaloo one night and laughing our heads off at how things couldn’t possibly get any worse.  And then they would.  This cycle repeated itself multiple times.  It was at this time when I think Bobaloo first thought up the phrase love-rich as in, “We may not have much, but baby, we’re love-rich.”  And it was true.  I am not so naïve to think that all you need is love, but love and a sense of humor can sure get you through some crappy times.

Gradually we both caught some breaks and now things are a lot better and much easier.  Some of the breaks were because of hard work and persistence and some were just dumb luck.  The good stuff has been all the more sweet because of the tough stuff.

I have been both up and down and at times felt stuck or like I couldn’t get out of my “lot in life” no matter what I did.  The important thing is, no matter where I was or whatever my situation may have been I have always found kindheartedness in the people around me.  Life has gotten easier in the last year or so, but I try to remember that others are still stuck in their “lot” and the importance of returning the thoughtfulness I was shown.



May 4

Here's day 4 of the above challenge to Blog Every Day in May.  Today's topic is Favorite quote and why you love it so here goes.

An anonymous text from the Tradition says that, in life, each person can take one of two attitudes: to build or to plant. The builders might take years over their tasks, but one day, they finish what they’re doing. Then they find they’re hemmed in by their own walls. Life loses its meaning when the building stops.

Then there are those who plant. They endure storms and all the many vicissitudes of the seasons, and they rarely rest. But, unlike a building, a garden never stops growing. And while it requires the gardener’s constant attention, it allows life for the gardener to be a great adventure.

Gardeners always recognize one another, because they know in the history of each plant lies the growth of the whole world.

-Paulo Coelho (Brida)
 

I love everything Paulo writes.  This was the reading at our wedding.

Awww..

 

May 3

  I'm keepin' on keepin' on with the above challenge to Blog Every Day in May. Ambitious I know, but there are topics posted for every day. Go check it out. Today's topic is Things that make you uncomfortable so here goes.

I could write an entire book about things that make me uncomfortable.

Having anxiety certainly presents its fair share of things that make me uncomfortable.  Most uncomfortable moments deal with issues of space or not being in control of my surroundings. 

Sometimes those issues creep up, sometimes they don’t.

Some instances of being uncomfortable in no spectacular order:

* Recently I walked over a bridge (sort of ran because it was rather high up) and could not and would not get back over to the other side.  Bobaloo walked back to the hotel to get my Pops to come pick me up in a car.  I knew in my heart of hearts the bridge was not going to suddenly break and I knew I wasn't going to accidentally fall off, but nonetheless I seriously cried over this:

This is the pedestrian bridge, for real yo.



* Every once in a while riding on the highway in the passenger seat of a car can be a horrible experience.  I am not sure if it’s the speed or the other drivers or the fact that I am not driving but some days it’s just too much to handle.

*  Every 8-12 months I get on an airplane, freak out, and vow to never get on another plane again, forget about aforementioned vow 8-12 months later, lather, rinse, and repeat.

*  Eating in front of strangers is bizarre and uncomfortable, weddings are a nightmare.

*  The self checkout at the grocery store is an endless source of anxiety for me which is weird because I usually prefer to interact with machines rather than people.  I think it's because the fruit and vegetables get priced wrong with the scanner and the scary Overlord of Groceries has to come over and boss me around.

*  Experiencing new things by myself isn’t my strong suit.  It’s not the new experience so much as the not getting lost on the way there, finding where to park, what if I wrote down the wrong day or time, expectation management, I don't know what's happening, what if I start panicking, am I breathing normal, etc.

Long story short, I make me incredibly uncomfortable.

Until my Expiration Date

Do you know what cracks me up about my mom?  Well, there are a lot of things.  When I was a kid, she would always try to find things with the expiration date the same as my birthday.  She made a big deal out of it too.  Check out the milk!  Check out the eggs!  I  found some mayonnaise that expires on your birthday!  It’s the small stuff, I guess.

 

She had me when she was thirty, now she is sixty.

Today I am thirty.

Thirty years old.

I don’t feel different.

I don’t look different.

 

I am definitely none the wiser.

Meh.

 

Here's to thirty!

Resolutions I

When I was going through my 2-year bout with holy heck-I am so sad-anxious-who am I?-what does this all mean?-why can’t I fit?-is my mind going?-better question where is my hair going?-is this worth the trouble?-what the heck is happening to me?*, it was so busy in my head that I stopped everything else. I was motionless and no matter what I tried, I could not move forward.

About a year ago I came back to the land of the functioning; it hasn’t been fully until recently. 

I have taken most of this last year to heal. Restore myself, reconcile to my people, and rejoin the commotion of everyday life.

I don’t have it all figured out. I am still working on it. And that’s okay.

When you panic, it’s your body telling you to slow down and resolve whatever needs resolving.

My life had to come to a complete stop for me to get the message and it turns out there were some things in my life that needed resolution. Taking a Xanax is easy, dealing with shit and holding it together is not. 

It has taken time. 

There has been a lot of gathering, sorting, recognizing, understanding, and finally, removal of shit.

Everyday chores and routines were too difficult to deal with so I just didn’t. Everything and everyone was overwhelming.

I have a few close girlfriends who are successful in their careers, have happy social lives, nice houses, and raising kids on top of that.  When I would visit them during this time I couldn’t help but think to myself, how can someone possibly have the energy for a life like theirs? How is your countertop so clean all the time? You grocery shop, cook dinner, put the mail away, and hang out with your kids? You host brunches on the weekend? You go to the mall, get your hair done, and vacuum all in the same day? How do you do this? Was there a grownup class I missed? How do you find the energy?

How do you do this?

I felt incompetent.

My girlfriends are amazing.

I had just failed to recognize that they were living life.

I was not. 

When we were getting ready to move to the new place, I prepared to move into a new head space. The steps forward have been gradual, but I am moving. That is the important part.

I go to work every day. I take care of the dog. I feed the fish. I make the bed. I do the dishes. I clean.  I pay bills. I tell Bobaloo not to fall asleep on the couch. I have even started helping with dinner on occasion. These things are very small but they make my life.

Almost a year later, I am very proud of this life.

*Sorry to get so technical.

Painting Posse

I am not a very fancy gal.  I own a lot of hats.  I wear many hats, only in the physical sense though, not in the turn of phrase sense.  Getting gussied up in the morning is my least favorite thing to do.  If I leave the house wearing matching tops and bottoms I consider it a triumph.  Socks don’t count.  I let go of trying to match my socks up a couple of years ago.  It’s been a beneficial experience.  No one really checks for matching socks anyway.  Sock it to me.

I started volunteering at a senior living home in December.  I told the volunteer coordinator I was up to help wherever she needed it, juice cart duties, organizing the library, etc.  She had something else in mind though.  She emailed me with my post after I passed my TB test, I was going to hang out on Saturday mornings once in a while and paint fingernails.

This was slightly unsettling for a few reasons.  One, I have never painted someone else’s nails before.  Two, physical nearness to strangers has never really been my thing.  Three, I am not super great at small talk.  I was nervous as my first Saturday approached.

When I arrived the first Saturday I only had one customer.  She was delightful and didn’t seem to be too bothered with me coloring outside of the lines a little bit.  Conversation came easy and I was eager to come back the next time.  When that day came, I had a half a dozen women waiting for me when I arrived.  It was cute because some of them thought I was practicing for beauty school. 

My posse has grown to about eight regulars who I am excited to see.  I am much more confident in my painting skills and am happy to suggest colors that will match outfits they have planned out for the week.  They make conversation with each other while they’re waiting for paint or drying.   It’s nice for me because I can do nails and listen to the conversations.   The experience has been an absolute pleasure from the get go and I am happy I let myself be open to it so I could meet these women.

2013

I found this cool listy list at Librarian Girl’s blog Pop Culture Librarian, her blog is awesome and funny and you should read it.

Ready to get reflect-y?

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?  I went to my first NFL football game.  I took a train trip by myself.  I went to Pikes Peak. 

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions from last year and will you make more any for 2013?  I don’t think I made any last year, not really my style.  I didn’t make any for this year either.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?  A couple of my girlfriends had babies that are adorable and didn’t object too much to my snuggling.  My sister-in-law also had a baby, who I would like to meet soon.

4. Did anyone close to you die?  Way to be a downer questionnaire.  Yes, both of my grandmas.

5. What trips did you take?  I took a couple of plane trips to Minnesota and Wisconsin.  Bobaloo and I took a short road trip to Wyoming.  I enjoyed being a homebody this year.

6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?  I would like more peace of mind or a maybe a car.  Let’s go with the car.

7. What date from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?  Probably the day the world didn’t end, 12/21/12 just because it was just so damn goofy!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?  I found a much needed new job.  I love it.

9. What was your biggest failure?  I lost touch with some folks who are important to me.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?  Only of the mental kind.

11. What was the best thing you bought?  I bought an alpaca wool blanket for my mom for Christmas and she loves it!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?  Pizza, for being consistently gooey and awesome and there for me.  And Bobaloo, for similar reasons.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?  Doesn’t do much good to say mean things here.

14. Where did most of your money go?  Who knows?  I had a lot of fun, so probably towards that.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?  Getting Fish!  Getting a job!  Getting a dog!  Getting to move!

16. What song will always remind you of 2012?  I listened to Vetiver’s “Roll on Babe” quite a bit while walking or getting ready in the morning.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder?  Considerably happier.
ii. thinner or fatter?  Thinner.

iii. richer or poorer?   I’m love-rich.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?  Traveling.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?  Worrying.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?  It’s over.  Bobaloo and I spent Christmas Eve at the local watering hole and it included rum and dirty jokes.

21. Did you fall in love in 2012?  Always.

22. How many one-night stands?  This is kind of awkward.

23. What was your favorite TV program?  I finally got into Parks and Recreation (thanks Netflix!) and I really like New Girl.

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?  Nope.

25. What was the best book you read?  Ooh.  Only one?  I really liked Moloka’i by Alan Brennert (fiction) and Empire of the Summer Moon by S.C. Gwynne (non-fiction).

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?  I went to my first Wilco show this summer and it was nice. 

27. What did you want and get?  A Presto Pizzazz Pizza Oven. 

28. What did you want and not get?  Waste not, want not.  Or, want not get not.  I don’t know.

29. What was your favorite film of this year?  I didn’t really see too many movies that came out this year.  I found Goats on Netflix and enjoyed it.

30. What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?  I went to Dave & Busters (best steak in an arcade setting) with some really great friends, drank rum, and won some tickets.  29.

29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?  Infinite amounts of cash money.  Would I really be happier though?  I’d like to think so.  I don’t really prescribe to the age old idiom, “mo money, mo problems.”

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?  Thrift store chic?  I kind of stick to the same old stuff, although I bought my first pair of skinny jeans and they totally accentuate my chicken legs.  Bawk!  Bawk!

31. What kept you sane?  Ha!

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?  Lovie Smith.

33. What political issue stirred you the most?  Not the time, not the place.

34. Who did you miss?  Near and dear, near and far.

35. Who was the best new person you met?  I have met so many awesome people and strange characters it is impossible to pick.

36. Tell a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012:  Geez.  Where do I start?  Asking for help is not weakness.  People are more often than not compassionate if you give them the chance.  It’s okay to take space and time to sort out emotions and feelings and that kind of crap.

37. A song lyric that sums up your year.
After all that I've been through, you're the only one that matters
Climb to safety
You never left me in the dark here on my own
Climb to safety
I can feel the water rising, let me be your ladder
Climb to safety
I promise you'll be dry and never be alone

Here's to another year!

4

 Four years ago, I married this goofball...

 

I am trying to think of all of the awesome and super things we've done in the last year.  There have been many.  Delightful meals, side-splitting happy hours, and many misadventures.  Gobs of laughs, a whole heap of music, and lot of mellow tv-watching too.  And of course, tons of love.

He is still nice.  He is still hilarious.  He is still handsome.  He still makes a damn good omelet.  All of the reasons I was so lucky to hitch my wagon to his star in the first place.

 

 





Answering the Call

Sitting in my closet yesterday, I was looking through a picture album of friends and thinking about how near and far they are to me now, both physically and emotionally.  I am lucky and love-rich that many of my nearest and dearest for the last 10-20 years are people I can still call in the middle of the night if need be, no questions asked.

The way friendships start and end at different measure is strange.  I have had fast friends and have also cultivated closeness with folks over the distance of many years.  The latter have turned out to be some of my most valued and true friendships.  I have lost touch bit by bit with people with whom I was once inseparable.  Also, I have had the uneasy experience of quickly dropping out of or being dropped out of someone’s life.

A couple of weeks ago I had a friend come into town for a short visit.  She was a neighbor of Bobaloo’s when he and I were dating.  Bobaloo and I would often sit on the deck having beers and listening to tunes and she and her husband would come over after work.  Slowly but surely, after three years she became quite a close friend.  She was someone who became unwaveringly thoughtful, compassionate, and protective towards me.   I offered the same friendship to her.  I look back at those times on the deck and think of a happy, happy stretch of life.  Meeting her was providential circumstance.

We have seen each other a couple of times in the last seven years, the last being four years ago.  Marriage happened, babies were had, and moves, school, and everything in between began to take up the adulthood of our lives.  Eventually, even our infrequent phone calls came to an end.  Our friendship became a yearly Christmas card.

She came into town a couple of weeks ago for a conference and we made plans to get together and catch a few drinks downtown.  Even though some years had passed since I saw her last, I was more excited than nervous to see her.

So, after Bobaloo and I navigated our way to a parking spot in the city and entered the crowded bar I sent a text letting her know I was there.  After a few minutes a familiar embrace from behind my shoulders was followed by a familiar voice.  We found a place to sit.  Pictures were shown of children, school and work updates were exchanged, and some of the more somber happenings of our lives were shared.  Life had moved on, but not between me and her.  We picked up just where we had left off, chattering away.

We headed to a tavern later and smoked cigarettes on the patio.  I apologized for not being better in touch and told her I missed her.  She told me that even though we don’t speak on the regular that she knows she can always call me when things shake down and that I will always answer.  She thought it was an unspoken understanding between us two.

I am lucky to have the kind of pals who will answer my call.  And it’s nice to know now, that I am that friend to someone too.

I am learning to work harder and smarter at mental health.  Four years after diagnosis, I think I am finally getting it figured out.  It can be arduous having to self monitor all the time.  Truthfully, when I have my setbacks it is because I get so tired of having to constantly scrutinize moods and what is normal (or habitual) for me. 

It is a lot of work to compare what my moods and actions are to those around me in a particular setting.  It hurts when everyone is in slow motion and I am turning like a pinwheel.  It’s devastating when I am sad and everyone else’s life goes on.  Comparing is necessary to keep me in check, but comparing is a reminder that I am not like them.

My husband and I made the choice a couple of years ago to be open and honest about my mental illness.  Keeping a secret on top of everything just seemed like too much.  Bipolar II and General Anxiety Disorder.  Sometimes getting that reality out of my mouth is easier than others.  It depends where I am at (mentally), where I am at (physically), and who I am speaking with.

People have been overwhelmingly nice and speak about their experiences with loved ones who struggle with mental illness.  They make me okay with things; it’s been an amazing experience.  I don’t know why this was so surprising to me.

Some people don’t understand.   I have lost friends and have been disappointed by relationships I thought were more genuine than they turned out to be.  Sometimes people look at struggle as a character flaw.  I don’t know if I want people in my life who don’t struggle.

The good ones know the certainty of my heart and the strength of my character. 

You learn who your friends are.  You learn who sticks it out.  They understand if you drop out of the world for months at a time and they forgive times when you are agitated and times when you just aren’t quite yourself.

It is a strange thing to have your mind turn against your body, to have your body rebel against its own nature.  And it is difficult to explain to people.  You feel foreign, like you don’t fit anywhere.  The world gets a bit lonely.

I have recently begun to notice the more honestly I chat with people, the more connected I feel to the kindness in the world.  Chance encounters now have more depth.

It’s brave to have heart.

To have had the possibility to understand myself better through others is a gift I am very thankful for.

Showing Up

Things are good.  Well, my things are good.  Other people’s stuff is not so good.  Those other people are my people. 

My tribe.

My folks get tough when the tough gets going.  We rally.  We show up.  We hug and eat hotdish in church basements.  Just being there is highly valued.  You visit the sick and bury the dead.  Period.  End of sentence.

When shit goes down, you show up.

My life is very happy and mellow in Colorado.  I have a good job, a few good friends, and Bobaloo.  I get to be alone quite a bit.  I feel detached from the place I am from, but not the people.  I welcome the autonomy and calmness of my life.

I go back and emotions get triggered.  Being around the people I love most is overwhelming.  All of my awkwardness creeps out and to ease it, I have a few cocktails.  Traveling, too many cocktails, and not enough sleep can bring on mania or at the very least tremendous anxiety.

By the end of the trip I am in shutdown mode.  It is exhausting being on the airplane and knowing you have to pick up the pieces again once it lands.

Showing up.

Showing up means losing my shit.

Shit I’ve worked really hard on.

Is it selfish not showing up to preserve your own peace of mind?