bipolar

The kotyonok and his asshole


December 21, 2019 :: 8:50 AM

it is hard as fuck to slow burn two characters you desperately want together

OK. So. Fun stuff first.

I didn’t win Nano, but the complete re-write of my YOI fan fic is going particularly well.

Telling it from the point of view of a fifteen year old under extreme amounts of pressure has been interesting. My headcanon for him is pretty brutal, but - shockingly - it’s not as bad as I’ve seen in other fics. I’ve given him anger issues, anxiety, everything fifteen year old me experienced long before it had a name. I’m not necessarily making him bipolar, but he’s definitely got issues. I’ve also given him an amazing version of his already pretty awesome grandpa, though. And brought in some of my experiences growing up Ukrainian. A lot of that cultural knowledge has been lost to time - and the swiss cheese my memory has become due to some of my meds - but I’m able to remember enough to google what I need and then find a Russian translation for it.

The biggest issue I’ve had is not digging up the ghosts of my past brushes with undiagnosed mental illness, but instead the fact that Yuri is 15 and Beka is 18. I hate the aged up fics because it feels like Barcelona is just foreplay. The whole side story of Beka meeting him five years prior to the Grand Prix final gets lost when Yuri is suddenly 18 as well. Beka’s a patient man. He’s been waiting FIVE YEARS to spend time with this boy, and instead of it being creepy, it was so well written that you know Otayuri is going to be canon. Later. It’s a slow burn of the slowest type.

I’m not the best with writing slow burns because I’m impatient… but it’s important not to rush this. Granted, the age of consent is low enough in all the concerned countries where it doesn’t matter, but American readers are often squicked out by it. Yuri is considered underaged, which is why he’s aged up by other impatient writers.

It’s challenging to write a young boy who wants everything NOW. Who wants the acceptance of this skater he looks up to. Who actually likes him. Despite the walls he’s built due to his backstory, he really wants Beka in his life. He thinks he loves Beka… On the flip side, Beka’s waited five years. I don’t see any reason why he can’t wait another three. I’ve made it obvious that he has a crush on Yuri, but he has the self-control required to not devour the boy.

It’s been hard, and it’s gone off the rails a few times, (I’ve rewritten one chapter multiple times!) but it’s better for the additional edits.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

OK. Serious stuff now.

Trump’s been impeached.

And he’s not going to pay the price of essentially breaking the law. (Gross simplification. I’m not a political scholar.)

I understand WHY it became a matter of parties. I understand WHY a lot of people say that the Dems wanted to undo the 2016 election.

Hell, I’d been wondering what it would take to impeach him and remove him from office - WHILE HE WAS STILL RUNNING.

He’s an absolutely shitty person and his followers… obviously have no morals. No sense of right and wrong. And his own party condones his shitty behaviour. TWITTER condones his shitty behaviour because his tweets are “important” and “historical”. He’s sexually assaulted women, announced that he could kill someone and people would look the other way, has attacked multiple people for really, what amounts to no good reason. (I mean, John McCain wasn’t necessarily one of my favourite people, but he didn’t deserve to be treated so harshly by Trump.) The reporters, the girl speaking out about the environment…there are so many I can’t list them all. OH! What about wanting to hold the G7 Summit at his PERSONAL property? Emoluments clause, anyone? (Not that that’s the only time foreign officials have visited a Trump property…or that the taxpayers are putting money in his pocket since his visits to Mar-A-Lago are essentially paid for by us.)

And the most mind-boggling bit? The part that drives me up the fucking wall? Trump attacked Greta Thunberg not once but TWICE. His fucking wife who has this anti-bullying campaign, has stayed fucking silent about the fact that her husband, the fucking PRESIDENT, is bullying a SIXTEEN year old girl with Asperger’s. Especially when people think he’s lashing out because she’s Time magazine’s person of the year.

Yeah. That pisses me off.

You have no idea.

I have been hoping and praying that they find a way to remove him from office since day one.

Unfortunately, being a shitty person is not one of the impeachable offences.

He handed the Dems exactly what they needed, but because Trump has visibly pissed the Dems off since day one, it’s definitely caused the impeachment to fall along party lines.

I’m disappointed that the Republicans have decided to protect him at all costs.

I’m disappointed that the Dems can’t figure out how to get a decent candidate in front of the American people… I hate all the front runners, for multiple reasons, some of them - admittedly - not rational.Call it the gut check. I could never verbalise why I hated Clinton and Sanders, either. I just knew I didn’t like them.

I think the impeachment is going to hurt the Dems come this next election and that pisses me off… I wish there were a fair trial coming up instead of this fucking shitshow.

Then again, if I’m going to waste my time on pointless wishes, I might as well wish to go back in time and not move to South Florida. Or I might as well wish for the bipolar behaving itself and not getting fired from my dream job because I had a complete breakdown and couldn’t function. (By the way, I was protected by the EEOC, but they found a loophole. Long story and you’re never going to get the full story here.)

Whatever…

I’m off to binge the Mandalorian… I’m only allowing myself to watch it if I’m on the treadmill. Six episodes at about 30 minutes each is about 3 5Ks or 9 miles at my slower pace. That’s not too bad. I could also make it a game: run full out when Baby Yoda does something adorable or when Mando shows emotion… but then I might be running full out for the 6 episodes. (How the fuck does Pedro Pascal manage to convey so many emotions when you never see his face?!?!?!)

And yes,  I know there are 7, but I’m not allowed to watch it alone and the husband not’s home right now.

I run, therefore I am


December 07, 2019 :: 9:21 AM

as 2020 looms large over the horizon, I’ve found a new way to define myself

I was supposed to run a 5K last night and a half marathon tomorrow.

I ended up deferring both. The 5K was the first to go because of work. When I had originally signed up, I was at a different job. This week my boss was on vacation and I forgot to ask before I left for Thanksgiving. I ended up deferring the half because I keep fucking up my back when I run. The 5K and 10K over Thanksgiving week just about killed me. My sciatica was acting up and when it wasn’t, the pain was still unreal. I had to take time off to heal, which meant there was no way I’d be ready.

I’m heartbroken. This was my test. To see what I needed to do before Disney. I WILL NOT BE A DNF. I WILL NOT ALLOW IT. I don’t know what that means, but I have a month to figure out how to get there without the benchmark I so desperately wanted / needed. 

I did a LOT of research. A metric fuck-ton, to be exact. I know it doesn’t replace having a doctor look at it, but what I found described everything perfectly. I have a plan that involves more stretching, some that I hadn’t even thought of. I searched the Nike Workout app and found a few workouts that fit the bill. I’m going to reach out to a yoga instructor I know and she what she can offer me.  I’m excited to get going.

I was going to run the 5K last night (at home), but my night got blown to shit. We had to leave the office because they were painting. I tried to work from home and it was a disaster. Such a disaster that I ended up working an hour later than I wanted to because our West Coast office forgot I’m on the East Coast. (Bastards!)

I’m going to run the 5K today and the half tomorrow (at home, on the Deathmill) as well. It won’t be perfect, but it will give me an idea of how I’m going to perform.

I’ve even got a running plan sort of figured out for 2020… including the insanity of the Random Tuesday racery events.

I’ve set the lofty goal of doing the Dopey Challenge in 2021. My biggest hurdle is going to be the marathon, because I’ve already committed to 11 IRL races. ELEVEN. And three of them are halfs. We’re not even going go talk about the 7 guaranteed PHRC races, the 6 WRC races, and whatever the FRC decides to release.

- - - - - - - - - -

I’ve taken a break from Facebook. I log in about once a day, look at my fanfic groups, hang out in the Tower, check on select friends. When I post now, it’s about running because running is safe.

I can’t look at my newsfeed. The memories of happy days with the Cats. The reminder that I got fired. (Yesterday was the year anniversary of my official termination.) The endless stream of hockey stories, videos, photos that clog some of my favourite peoples’ feeds.

I just can’t. It’s too triggering.

One of my hockey loving friends texted me a photo before bed a few nights ago… It took me two Ativan before I could calm down enough to be rational. I’m only supposed to take two if shit is REALLY bad. It was beyond bad.

I thought I might go back in January but after that night, I may wait until hockey season is over. In April.

I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would.

*poof*


November 02, 2019 :: 10:27 AM

my binder in scrivener actually has a folder of ‘shit that needs holy water’

It’s November 2nd, which means I’m one day late in starting my NaNoWriMo project.

I wasn’t going to do NaNo this year between running and trying to get myself back into Ukrainian, but my little Yuri On Ice fan fic grew into nineteen chapters and got completely and utterly fucked at about chapter 8. Ten chapters to rewrite…

And then I reread the first 8 chapters and there are too many breadcrumbs leading up to the trainwreck.

I should plot instead of pants.

43,400+ words later, I have the plot but have to do some extensive rewriting. Changing the POV, bringing the characters back IN character. Oh,it is SO. FUCKING. BAD.

I joked on FB that there’s a difference between delete and rewrite and sprinkling some holy water in order to exorcise the bad writing.

I wish I could get away with the holy water… The power of Christ compels you to not be an utter an complete waste of FORTY THREE THOUSAND WORDS!!!!

Too bad life’s not a shitty horror movie and bad writing is harder to get rid of.

Maybe I shouldn’t have read Line and Verse (From Almaty, With Love) before editing.

 

——-


Facebook reminded me that today was the day I found out my boss sold me out to the CFO the day I told him I was bipolar… and that she felt she had to walk on eggshells around me. For over a year.

I’d already asked for a private office, invoking the ADA, and was working frantically with my shrink to get the worst of it under control, but the damage had been done.

Thirteen days from today, they would come into my office at noon and tell me to leave. That I’d be allowed back after I met with their doctor.

Their doctor who made shit up and resulted in writing the report that got me fired.

Everybody who read his report knew it was nothing but lies, but there was nothing I could do. My own doctor was “biased” and not worth talking to.

I thought about suing them and I thought about going after the doctor… but in the end, I didn’t want to fight. I knew how they would talk about me and I couldn’t live with the thought that I’d be that person.

Instead, I live with a case of ‘what ifs’ and some pretty deeply rooted shame.

I can’t help that I’m bipolar. I can’t help that it flared despite my best efforts. I can’t even help the fact that it fucked me so hard that I will probably never recover. Therapy didn’t do shit (and I tried, oh did I try!) and the drugs didn’t work. So I keep on keepin’ on.

It’s all I know how to do.

 

——-


Speaking of the bipolar, I’ve found that running clears my head in a way that the drugs can’t… so I’m doing yet another Racery event. (Spring Quidditch, Battle of the Fandoms 1 & 2, The Whovian Running Club’s Fall Racery event, The Chilton Running Club’s Road Trip, and now, Fall Quidditch.)

It’s a great way to push me to my limits, which I really need right now because I am woefully unprepared for the half I’m running in December.

 

——-


In happier news, I decided to create my own NaNo tracker.

I need to find better Yurio quotes, but I think it’s oddly fitting given that I’m rewriting ‘The Death of the Russian Fairy’. (Which is a working title that I’m not in love with…)

 

Isn’t it awesome? I’m pretty proud of the way I made GoogleSheets my bitch.

Crazy is as crazy does


August 24, 2019 :: 11:56 AM

after titty croissants, i give you german speaking dinosaurs

There’s so much to say and so much that shouldn’t be said online…

I don’t talk about the things that really matter to me. Generally, my husband is off limits except for where he plays a small bit part. Today is… different.

As of today, we’ve made it seventeen years as a married couple. It’s been twenty one since we met.

I’ve put him through SO. MUCH. SHIT.

Having him move in within weeks of meeting. Kicking him out of the house we shared. Getting him to come back. The way I fell apart after my dad died. The struggles as I dealt with the bipolar diagnosis. All the crap that went along with that. The move to New England. His joining the Dead Parents Club as a full member. More of my bipolar bullshit… (Meds work. They don’t work. It’s a crap shoot.) The move to Florida for my dream job. The stress that the move caused. The worst bipolar “attack” in years that resulted in my asking for an ADA accommodation. The termination in retaliation for that. The new job. The fact that eight months after that, I’m looking for another new job…

Fuck. I don’t deserve him. He could do so much better than me.

 

—————

So that new job?

Interviewed and hired within a day.

It’s a huge risk, but it has the two things that are most important to me - a relaxed dress code (jeans), and a quiet working space.

I know. Dress code shouldn’t matter but seeing how my current employer made a point to have a powerpoint presentation created to enforce a completely ridiculous dress code? Yeah. I have a coworker who gets in more trouble for violating said dress code than the two bullies do for being assholes.

While I’m talking about the bullies… there was a meeting on Monday and things got worse. MUCH worse. My back hurts from all the stab wounds… and I wasn’t even the one responsible for what happened. Instead, we’re expected to meet with the Controller every Monday as a team, then individually during the week. HR wants us to sit in a circle, hold hands, and sing Kumbaya. Team building doesn’t work when it’s four people working against each other. It would make everything worse.

It was them or me. All the promotions in the world couldn’t change the atmosphere in the pod, so…

If I can’t change the people around me, I change the people around me.

I solemnly swear I am up to #somuchgood


March 26, 2019 :: 8:53 PM

happy birthday to me

I know it’s a stupid piece of metal holding other stupid pieces of metal (and one piece of wood), but I am sooooooo pleased with this.

We won’t talk about all the other medals I need to complete.

Seriously. We’re not going to.

 

- - - - -

Things are settling down.

I’m starting to find a rhythm. A method to the madness.

A way to tolerate a BLT sandwich that isn’t particularly fond of lettuce.

Yeah. You probably don’t want to know.

 

- - - - -

I just put our schedule up on the whiteboard.

Holy shit, we’re going to be busy this summer.

 

- - - - -

Had the best birthday ever -  TWO trips to Universal.

One with my little brother from another mother and his family. So nice to spend time with him.

One by myself. Which was even better. I fucking love going to Universal by myself.

The best part of going to Universal (besides spending all day in Diagon Alley and HOT butterbeer (HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!)) was when I bought ice cream for that mom and her daughter at Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour. There was something about the two of them that made me wish it wasn’t the 26th anniversary of my mother’s death on the 18th or the fact that my father died when I was 26.

Yeah. For not liking numbers, there’s a certain symmetry that’s always bothersome when the numbers line up like that.

Anyhoo… they were behind me in line and there was something about them. (Yes, I know I already said that.) When I offered to pay for their ice cream, the mother hugged the shit out of me. The cashier wouldn’t stop telling me how amazing I was for doing that.

But, in truth, I did it because I was jealous of their relationship.

Because that’s the best fucking reason to do something nice for someone, right?

I never said my actions make sense.

 

- - - - -

In other news, no more Sims. That’s a pretty good thing.

Working on my Drarry fanfic again after putting it into time out. (Why did I have to fuck up a perfectly good Drarry fic with soulmates and Weasley twins? Soulmates, pffffffft.)

Continuing work on my Yuri!!! on Ice fan fic, too. I think I’ve mentioned what a little shit Yurio is, so he’s been a lot of fun to write.

Reread my 2017 NaNoWriMo Teen Wolf (trainwreck of a) fic. I think there’s a lot of potential there, but I’m knee deep in two other fandoms. I’m good at multi-taking, but that’s way too many voices in my head clamouring for attention.

Oh. Wait. I can’t talk about the voices in my head. That’s bad.

Can I talk about hearing the fucking Hamilton soundtrack on a never ending loop in my head? It’s the earworm that refuses to go away. For weeks now, I can’t replace it with ANYTHING else. And, so help me Dog, have I tried…

Hallucination or earworm?

You decide. I’m going to bed.

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