One thing I've realized is that my creative energy, my elevated levels of annoyance and my fits of anger and sometimes rage come in waves...
Somedays I can take on the world and I can do any and everything I set my mind too, and then there are days like today...I just want to crawl up in my black hole and look out into the blackness. Instead of doing that I remembered a declaration I made on this blog and that's to write an original post at least once a month for this blog. I'm doing it so I can feel like I'm consistent about SOMETHING, I'm also sticking to my declaration because this is my place of venting, the only place I feel comfortable coming and letting it all hang out. This morning I woke up tired, my alarm went off, I dismissed it, looked at the ceiling turned back over and forty minutes later I jumped up running late for work. I took the medicine Dr. U prescribed for me last month so I can sleep. I only took half a pill because the last time I took an entire pill it mollywhopped me! I had NO trouble getting to sleep after I took it, I just took it a little too late...you live and you learn and tonight I'll be taking that particular med at least forty mintues earlier than I took it last night.
Managing Moods:
The hardest problem I'm having with managing my moods is allowing people to invade my mood barrier. Like this bitch walked into my personal space today, talking about a random unimportant policy that I did not write nor did I agree with it but FUCK it I have to follow it. My position is to keep YOU up on policy, I'm not going to argue with you about it, I'm not going to enforce the policy. I'm simply going to remind you about the rules and keep it moving. The last thing you would ever want to do is bring your ass in here and try to "challenge me." We all have a job to do whether it's for a paycheck, or for pleasure and I'm not going to let you keep me from doing my job...I will however laugh with glee when you go against policy and it comes back to bite you in the ass.
In an effort to not remain in this place of anger, I'm going to set some new rules and boundaries concerning the things you bring to my office. I will not entertain idle chitter chatter from people I wouldn't fratinize with outside of work and if it's not directly related to my position/area then you gotta keep it moving.
Anyway, I shall build consistency one blog post at a time, I think this will also help me get back into the writer's mindset. I have a book I promised my big sister Linda I was going to write and I'm going to write it, if it's the last thing I do...My sister left this earth in May 2011, the last time we talked she asked about my book.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
Suffering in Silence...
I remember when I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, I wasn't surprised or shocked, I was humbled. Then that turned into shame, I had heard people being referred to as Bipolar, or manic depressive or just plain old "crazy" and I always felt a sense of pity for them. I pitted them because I knew they were suffering and being treated like outcasts for something they had absolutely no control over. I was ashamed because now I'm being defined by a condition instead of who God created me to be. I was ashamed because I had once ostracized people who suffered from mental illness. I was ashamed because I knew if I told anyone my secret, I too would be ostracized, cast aside and ridiculed.
The condition some how gets in the way of who we are and people began defining us by our condition. It reminded me of the story in the bible of the woman with the issue of blood. She had suffered for 12 long years and put all her hope in physicians but none of them could help her. But God...She suffered so long with that issue of blood that when her story was told in the bible she was referred to by her issue. But God...the woman with the issue of blood convinced herself that if she could just touch the hem of His (Jesus) garment she would be made whole. And so it began, her struggle to get to the healer. *This is where my holy imagination kicks in* She wakes up and looks at herself in the mirror, and in her head she's replaying all the hate that she has encountered as a result of her "issue" *remember in the bible when a woman is on her menstrual cycle she is deemed unclean* The names, the dirty looks, the isolation, the gossip, all had to wear down on her, but with determination and courage she made her way to where Jesus was. It was crowded to say the least, but she pushed her way through, knocking people out of her way, ignoring the hate that was being thrown her way. She kept repeating to herself that "If I could just touch the hem of his garment, I know I will be made whole" and with determination and a desire so strong for healing she pressed on. She made her way to Jesus and touched Him, He immediately felt strength leave His body and He turned around and asked "Who touched me?" In trembling and fear she approached Him, fell down on her knees and told him her story. Seeing her quiet desperation and unwavering faith, Jesus rewarded her faith and told her because of it she was HEALED!
Although the woman with the issue of blood had seen many physicians none of them could help her, so she made her way to the ULTIMATE HEALER!!! I'm not in anyway discouraging people who suffer with mental illness to not see there doctors but what I am saying is Healing is a gift that is bestowed upon doctors from God...PUSH PASS the hinderances, the blocks, the ridicule and the shame and make your way to a doctor. It is time for us to start healing, although our "white elephant"will always be in the room at least we're not ignoring him and pretending that everything is "ok". The time is now for us to STOP SUFFERING IN SILENCE! If the woman with the issue, hadn't broke down and told Jesus her story, she'd still be suffering. We need to tell our story first to ourselves, then to our doctors, and then to any and everyone you think may be suffering in silence.
The condition some how gets in the way of who we are and people began defining us by our condition. It reminded me of the story in the bible of the woman with the issue of blood. She had suffered for 12 long years and put all her hope in physicians but none of them could help her. But God...She suffered so long with that issue of blood that when her story was told in the bible she was referred to by her issue. But God...the woman with the issue of blood convinced herself that if she could just touch the hem of His (Jesus) garment she would be made whole. And so it began, her struggle to get to the healer. *This is where my holy imagination kicks in* She wakes up and looks at herself in the mirror, and in her head she's replaying all the hate that she has encountered as a result of her "issue" *remember in the bible when a woman is on her menstrual cycle she is deemed unclean* The names, the dirty looks, the isolation, the gossip, all had to wear down on her, but with determination and courage she made her way to where Jesus was. It was crowded to say the least, but she pushed her way through, knocking people out of her way, ignoring the hate that was being thrown her way. She kept repeating to herself that "If I could just touch the hem of his garment, I know I will be made whole" and with determination and a desire so strong for healing she pressed on. She made her way to Jesus and touched Him, He immediately felt strength leave His body and He turned around and asked "Who touched me?" In trembling and fear she approached Him, fell down on her knees and told him her story. Seeing her quiet desperation and unwavering faith, Jesus rewarded her faith and told her because of it she was HEALED!
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Life is Indeed a Struggle
I know it's been a couple of month's since I've blogged but one of my sad realities is I'm set on fire with passion for a task. I take it on and I'm going on all cylinders and then just as quickly as the flame was lit, it's dashed! Often times snuffed out before completion of the task. Around my office my student workers often use a little slang phrase "the struggle" when ever they are having a bad day, or something is funny or they're simply struggling. And of course I've made it apart of my slang library. "The Struggle" is real, I struggle to get out of bed in the morning, I struggle to control my temper, I struggle to live in a world that I don't fit into, I struggle to stay outside the box, I struggle to not give in to my urges to spend uncontrollably...You get where I'm going with this? Life is a struggle, and all the things I've listed above (there's hundreds more) are things that not only I struggle with but other's as well. Bipolar or not life is struggle and it's just that much harder for someone living with this disorder, so why treat them differently? Why ostracize them and label them crazy? You've seen my pictures do I look like I'm "crazy" hell what IS crazy anyway? I'm starting to rant so I digress...
Today I'm struggling because I'm starting to feel alone again, I don't know if I'm cycling down and I'm about to hit a low but I felt compelled to share my thoughts with you guys, I don't know if anyone reads my blog, and shit I wouldn't, I rarely post and am NEVER consistent. I just had an epiphany! I'm going to post to this blog at least ONCE per month for the next three months, I really need to work on somethings and consistency is one of them. So this is where I'll start.
"The Struggle"
Today I'm struggling because I'm starting to feel alone again, I don't know if I'm cycling down and I'm about to hit a low but I felt compelled to share my thoughts with you guys, I don't know if anyone reads my blog, and shit I wouldn't, I rarely post and am NEVER consistent. I just had an epiphany! I'm going to post to this blog at least ONCE per month for the next three months, I really need to work on somethings and consistency is one of them. So this is where I'll start.
"The Struggle"
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
I'm In Love with a Stripper
On May 8, 2012 I received a call from Terry, it was late, a few minutes before midnight, so I knew when his name popped up on the phone it wasn't anything good. I almost hit the ignore button because I just wasn't ready for whatever bad news he had to tell me. Instead of ignoring the inevitable I answered the phone, but not with my normal "hey baby what's up" I answered with a worried, "what's wrong?" This always strong, always happy man, sounded crushed and my heart dropped because I thought something was wrong with my best friend which is his wife. He proceeded to tell me that our dear sweet Amber Lynn drove to the Mississippi River Bridge, stopped her car, got out and jumped to her death...
Can I just tell y'all about Amber? I hadn't known her long, but out of the three girls she was my favorite! CeCe also known as Celeste my best friend, helped raise Amber and her two sisters because their mom had issues, and ultimately the girls mom committed suicide. Celeste always talked about "the girls" so I got to know them through her stories and I decided that Amber was my favorite and indeed she was. Last summer Celeste and I traveled to Louisiana (my home) to drop my daughter off at her dads, to spend time with "the girls" and to hit up some of the action in New Orleans, I mean Essence Fest was in full swing! After we dropped Nene off, we wandered around the Red Stick, trying to find Amber's apartment and eventually we did. When I walked into the apartment Amber greeted us and she was a ball of HAPPINESS, SUNSHINE, GLITTER, AND CANDY DUST all rolled up in her tiny little frame. Celeste told her how I had made up my mind that she was my favorite girl and her face just lit up, which made my heart happy. We spent the day shopping and talking and EATING, you know, doing what girls do! While we were in the car, a heaviness over came me and it wasn't an "episode" I could literally feel her sadness and pain and it was smothering. I'd listen to her talk and my heart weep loudly, I looked out the window alot because I wanted to hide the tears.
Sweet Amber Lynn carried around the pain of being uprooted more times then she cared to admit, the pain of being in the crappy foster care system, the humiliation of rejection, the belittlement from teachers and adults, and the ultimate pain of her mother committing suicide. But the heaviest burden I think Amber Lynn carried around was an inherited mental illness. From the way they described her mother she suffered severely from some form/combination of mental illness. I described Amber earlier and that is MY opinion of her, she was rejected by those who were suppose to love her more because she self medicated to numb the pain..pills and alcohol were best friends. She was trying to find her way and make sense of everything she had gone through at such a young age, and all I could offer her was to take those experiences and pain and use them as motivation. I hugged her, made her laugh, and told her she is exactly who God created her to be and to Him she was all of that and a bag of chips. She had so many "if only" this or that had or hadn't happened she would be better. Cece and I kept assuring her that she was AWESOME and that she was still so young to the point where she had time to do any and everything she wanted to do.
The truth of the matter is Amber was broken, and she searched feverishly for a mender, healing, peace...she wanted to belong and she wanted to be loved. I think I've said enough, I don't want to offend or anger her family with my words, because hell I had only met her face to face that one time, but it felt like I had loved her forever. I can only imagine how alone Amber Lynn was the day she parked her car on the Mississippi River Bridge and jumped. I can hear the phone calls to the people who were suppose to love her and they didn't have time to deal with her and her "drama." I found out last night that her dog ran away earlier that day, that dog loved her and personally I think someone stole the dog but that had to be a stress-or as well.
*Spppp* Can I tell you a secret? In my next life I'm going to be a stripper!!!! I just adore them and sometimes in my mind I think I'm a stripper, I even have my own custom stage music and I have a stage name but that's not none of y'all's business. My Amber Lynn was a stripper and at random times during the day I'd start singing "I'm in love with a stripperrrrrrrrrr" She just laughed and enjoyed the love Cece and I were pouring over and into her. I wish we hadn't left her...
Her dad died in August and she was devastated, I reached out to her because I lost my dad at a very young age, so I knew some of what she was going through....Below is the actual message I sent to my Amber on August 9th 2011.
I shared my Amber with you because depression and mental illness dominated her life and in the end it got the best of her. I know I have my own battle with mental illness but it is time for us to fight and fight HARD for our young people. We must let them know they are loved, they are not alone and we have to get them the help they need....it's out there! Let's start identifying their cries for help and actually help them...it could save lives...
Yesterday, they found Amber's body. I guess we can all find some form of closure now...I guess. My prayer is that My Favorite Girl has finally found the peace and rest she so desperately searched for. Love you Amber.
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:
1-800-273-8255
Help 24 hours a day 7 days a week...it's free and confidential.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
Can I just tell y'all about Amber? I hadn't known her long, but out of the three girls she was my favorite! CeCe also known as Celeste my best friend, helped raise Amber and her two sisters because their mom had issues, and ultimately the girls mom committed suicide. Celeste always talked about "the girls" so I got to know them through her stories and I decided that Amber was my favorite and indeed she was. Last summer Celeste and I traveled to Louisiana (my home) to drop my daughter off at her dads, to spend time with "the girls" and to hit up some of the action in New Orleans, I mean Essence Fest was in full swing! After we dropped Nene off, we wandered around the Red Stick, trying to find Amber's apartment and eventually we did. When I walked into the apartment Amber greeted us and she was a ball of HAPPINESS, SUNSHINE, GLITTER, AND CANDY DUST all rolled up in her tiny little frame. Celeste told her how I had made up my mind that she was my favorite girl and her face just lit up, which made my heart happy. We spent the day shopping and talking and EATING, you know, doing what girls do! While we were in the car, a heaviness over came me and it wasn't an "episode" I could literally feel her sadness and pain and it was smothering. I'd listen to her talk and my heart weep loudly, I looked out the window alot because I wanted to hide the tears.
Sweet Amber Lynn carried around the pain of being uprooted more times then she cared to admit, the pain of being in the crappy foster care system, the humiliation of rejection, the belittlement from teachers and adults, and the ultimate pain of her mother committing suicide. But the heaviest burden I think Amber Lynn carried around was an inherited mental illness. From the way they described her mother she suffered severely from some form/combination of mental illness. I described Amber earlier and that is MY opinion of her, she was rejected by those who were suppose to love her more because she self medicated to numb the pain..pills and alcohol were best friends. She was trying to find her way and make sense of everything she had gone through at such a young age, and all I could offer her was to take those experiences and pain and use them as motivation. I hugged her, made her laugh, and told her she is exactly who God created her to be and to Him she was all of that and a bag of chips. She had so many "if only" this or that had or hadn't happened she would be better. Cece and I kept assuring her that she was AWESOME and that she was still so young to the point where she had time to do any and everything she wanted to do.
The truth of the matter is Amber was broken, and she searched feverishly for a mender, healing, peace...she wanted to belong and she wanted to be loved. I think I've said enough, I don't want to offend or anger her family with my words, because hell I had only met her face to face that one time, but it felt like I had loved her forever. I can only imagine how alone Amber Lynn was the day she parked her car on the Mississippi River Bridge and jumped. I can hear the phone calls to the people who were suppose to love her and they didn't have time to deal with her and her "drama." I found out last night that her dog ran away earlier that day, that dog loved her and personally I think someone stole the dog but that had to be a stress-or as well.
*Spppp* Can I tell you a secret? In my next life I'm going to be a stripper!!!! I just adore them and sometimes in my mind I think I'm a stripper, I even have my own custom stage music and I have a stage name but that's not none of y'all's business. My Amber Lynn was a stripper and at random times during the day I'd start singing "I'm in love with a stripperrrrrrrrrr" She just laughed and enjoyed the love Cece and I were pouring over and into her. I wish we hadn't left her...
Her dad died in August and she was devastated, I reached out to her because I lost my dad at a very young age, so I knew some of what she was going through....Below is the actual message I sent to my Amber on August 9th 2011.
Yesterday, they found Amber's body. I guess we can all find some form of closure now...I guess. My prayer is that My Favorite Girl has finally found the peace and rest she so desperately searched for. Love you Amber.
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:
1-800-273-8255
Help 24 hours a day 7 days a week...it's free and confidential.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
"Normal"
This is the very first post on this here blog and it's taken me longer then I care to admit to actually write something. Let's start with this...Hi, my name is Neecha and I am the Bipolar Snob.
The beginning: I was misdiagnosed back in 2009 with mild depression and with misdiagnosis come horrible side effects to the wrong medicine. I was giving an anti-depressant for "mild depression" and without a stabilizer...lets just say it got pretty ugly. I had a massive explosion and then a melt down. I was seeing a counselor at the time and she recommended this doctor to me, I made an appointment and then the fun began. The sentence was handed down...Bipolar II Disorder. I was devastated and relieved at the same time because now I can get some help for this VCR playing in my head on fast forward. To make a long story short, my then doctor loaded me down with medicine, five to be exact. I felt horrible, I was a zombie, I had no desire to do anything and all I wanted to do sleep. The meds were taking over my life to the point where I couldn't drive and I was making mistakes on my job...BIG MISTAKES. I shared this information with my then doctor and I also shared with her that I don't feel like myself on the meds and how I have all these hobbies and no desire to indulge in them and how I was always confused. She sat there with a solemn face and told me the way I was feeling was "normal" and that "normal" people have to force themselves to to partake in hobbies and social activities. *SIGH* Now many of you may not know me from my other blog but I'm very blunt and to the point and often times, I THINK I'm thinking things in my mind but in all actuality I'm saying them out loud. Before I knew I asked her if she was on crack and no matter how many letters she have behind her name I will never believe that the way I was feeling was normal. Of course I threw in a couple of cuss words for a dramatic affect and that was the end of our relationship. I broke up with her at ONCE and I stopped taking all those damn medicines. Then in Jan. 2011 I found Dr. U. and it was love at first sight. He ran a battery of tests on me and came back with a diagnosis of Bipolar I and A.D.H.D. I was relieved and felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and once I started taking my new medicine, life began to stabilize for me and the people closest to me. I said all that to say this always get a second opinion and a third and fourth if you need to and NEVER be afraid to ask questions, that's what the hell they are there for to answer your questions and clear up any misconceptions or confusion you may have about your diagnosis and medicine regimen.
Anyway, let me set this blog up right and I hope you guys enjoy this roller coaster ride with me!
The beginning: I was misdiagnosed back in 2009 with mild depression and with misdiagnosis come horrible side effects to the wrong medicine. I was giving an anti-depressant for "mild depression" and without a stabilizer...lets just say it got pretty ugly. I had a massive explosion and then a melt down. I was seeing a counselor at the time and she recommended this doctor to me, I made an appointment and then the fun began. The sentence was handed down...Bipolar II Disorder. I was devastated and relieved at the same time because now I can get some help for this VCR playing in my head on fast forward. To make a long story short, my then doctor loaded me down with medicine, five to be exact. I felt horrible, I was a zombie, I had no desire to do anything and all I wanted to do sleep. The meds were taking over my life to the point where I couldn't drive and I was making mistakes on my job...BIG MISTAKES. I shared this information with my then doctor and I also shared with her that I don't feel like myself on the meds and how I have all these hobbies and no desire to indulge in them and how I was always confused. She sat there with a solemn face and told me the way I was feeling was "normal" and that "normal" people have to force themselves to to partake in hobbies and social activities. *SIGH* Now many of you may not know me from my other blog but I'm very blunt and to the point and often times, I THINK I'm thinking things in my mind but in all actuality I'm saying them out loud. Before I knew I asked her if she was on crack and no matter how many letters she have behind her name I will never believe that the way I was feeling was normal. Of course I threw in a couple of cuss words for a dramatic affect and that was the end of our relationship. I broke up with her at ONCE and I stopped taking all those damn medicines. Then in Jan. 2011 I found Dr. U. and it was love at first sight. He ran a battery of tests on me and came back with a diagnosis of Bipolar I and A.D.H.D. I was relieved and felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and once I started taking my new medicine, life began to stabilize for me and the people closest to me. I said all that to say this always get a second opinion and a third and fourth if you need to and NEVER be afraid to ask questions, that's what the hell they are there for to answer your questions and clear up any misconceptions or confusion you may have about your diagnosis and medicine regimen.
Anyway, let me set this blog up right and I hope you guys enjoy this roller coaster ride with me!
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