Saturday, October 09, 2010

The winds of change…


michael stipe :: great woods, mansfield, ma :: june 14, 2008

There’s been a lot going on backstage.

I know, when is there not? My life is apparently never going to be free of drama. I just wish there didn’t seem to be so much of it.

I’ve been waaaaaay more open about the bipolar lately. Even tweeting about it - and I have a coworker following me there. I’m trying to walk unafraid… I did it once. I can do it again.

I’ve done a lot of growing up, a lot of calming down, and I think my break from That Other Blog was what I needed. You can’t rage against the machine all the time, can you? Maybe you can, but I found it exhausting and not really healthy.

I took yesterday and this coming Monday off from work (we didn’t have Columbus Day off, but I’ll happily burn a vacation day). A nice 4 day weekend… away from the insanity that is the office. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with my imagination. Alone with my demons.

Sounds like fun? Well, Friday was a lot of quality time with my demons and I think we’ve come to an understanding.

I’ve been toying with moving this site to EE2 - almost upgraded the other night but forgot my FTP AND database user names and passwords. There also needs to be a new design. The last time I redesigned this blog it was basically a tightening up of the code and adding those ads to the sidebar. I think the ads have outlived their usefulness. I’m not making any money from them (not that I thought I would, but what the hell, right?). There’s also a Twitter error that pops up on the Archive screen.

I had a bunch of ideas, but the artist in me has apparently taken a vacation. She’s not processing the massive amounts of photos she’s taken since May but she has a TypeKit account!

I guess I can blame it on the “new” job. There’s a lot about it that just mentally exhausts me. I come home and I don’t want to go near a computer. If I do, I’m playing the Sims. At least they get to live in cool houses and have a cool job like ghost hunting.

But, let’s be honest, completely honest, shall we?

Bipolar. Fucking. Sucks.

It’s ALWAYS the hidden drama backstage. My coworkers can suck. My husband can suck. My friends can suck. But none of them can torture me and make me feel as shitty as I can make myself. It’s been out of control for a loooooooong time. It’s not “time to call the doctor” out of control, and you’d barely know I’m in a bad place, but I know. I know my specific trigger and I’m trying to NOT let it get the best of me, but dude, that thing? It’s a force of nature. You can only run from a hurricane… you can’t stand up, face it, and tell it nicely to leave your neighborhood alone. There’s no fighting this hurricane. I know. I’ve done it. I’ve lost. I’ve packed up my stuff and moved to a new location, but I can see the storm clouds. I know it’s hurricane season… I just don’t know how many hurricanes I can survive.  Maybe the next time, I just let the flood waters take me.

Nah. We all know - I’m going to stand there in the path and give it a one-finger salute. Let it do its worst. It can’t take any more away from me than it already has.

So anyhoo… Friday. My demons.

I know I’m on the path to healing, to figure out how to force the hurricane to change its direction, when I post a tweet and get a reply like this: Consider this an Internet fistbump to that tweet. *WORD* I lurve that kid. They are one of my most favorite people on this planet and a kindred spirit. The saddest part is that we can never be friends… there is a huge THING between us that keeps us from crossing the line from friendly to friends, but I’m OK with that. Maybe one day, but not today.

I know what I need to do to keep my sanity. I know how to do the things I need to do to keep my sanity. I actually LIKE doing the things I need to do to keep my sanity. I have goals. Concrete goals. And I’m going to meet them or I’m going to die trying. Things are changing. I’m changing.

The signs are subtle, but they’re there. For example, if you know me well, you know my hair hasn’t been it’s natural color since high school. Well, guess what? It is now. I had to dye it to get it there, but at least this time when my hair grows out, there won’t be any roots. (That picture of me on the about me page? Nice and Easy 110 - Natural light auburn, baby. My go-to color for YEARS.) Other signs are WAY more subtle than a change in my hair color - things only my husband would notice, and BOY! has he noticed. It makes me feel good.

Thinking about changing this blog’s “voice” and design, wondering who I am, changing who I am… it’s made me wonder how I would describe myself.

The surface stuff is easy: BU hockey fan, lover of all things R.E.M., BC hater.

It’s easy to go down another layer: fencer, knitter, rubber stamper.

And even another layer deeper: child of alcoholics (both deceased), bipolar, feisty, lover of the f-word.

The end result is always the same, isn’t it?

I think. I love. I believe. I am a 5 year old that never matured.  I am old beyond my 30-something years.

I am more than HTML, PHP, hexadecimal colors and your preconceived notions.  I am a survivor.  I am me.

And that’s all that matters.

Posted by Matty on 10/09 at 06:52 PM