bipolar

Mischief Managed

July 15, 2018 :: 9:42 AM

I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

I have been hoarding that Marauder’s Map fabric forever and I’ve been terrified to cut into it.

As one thing goes well, the rest fall to shit.

It’s just the way it goes, right?

On a happy note, I went to Universal for my birthday and that wand sticking out of the (way cool) hidden pocket? It chose me at Olivander’s. Ash with a unicorn hair horn. (The same core as Draco Malfoy’s, which is interesting since he’s my favourite character in the books. I’m serious. There’s so much more to him than you see in the movies. I think JKR did such a great job with him, but since we only see him through Harry’s eyes, it’s hard to see.)

I’m not huge into wandlore, but I do find it interesting that wands with a unicorn hair core produce the most consistent magic, least subject to fluctuations and blockages, most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts and the most faithful of wands. However, they do not make the most powerful of wands (unless the wandwood compensates) and are prone to melancholy if mishandled.

Ash wood, too, has an interesting backstory: The ash wand clings to its one true master and ought not to be passed on or gifted from the original owner, because it will lose power and skill. This tendency is especially valid if the core is constructed of unicorn hair. Old superstitions regarding wands rarely bear close examination, but it is believed that the old rhyme regarding rowan, chestnut, ash and hazel wands (rowan gossips, chestnut drones, ash is stubborn, hazel moans) contains a small nugget of truth. Those witches and wizards best suited to ash wands are not lightly swayed from their beliefs or purposes.

However, the brash or over-confident witch or wizard, who often insists on trying wands of this prestigious wood, will be disappointed by its effects. The ideal owner may be stubborn, and will certainly be courageous, but never crass or arrogant.

It makes me feel a little better to know that my wand core is subject to melancholy if mishandled and that my wand wood is best suited for people that aren’t lightly swayed from their beliefs or purposes and are stubborn and courageous… it seems to suit me well lately.

I’m still struggling and it’s getting worse. I’m on new meds, which I don’t think are helping, but time will tell.

—————

I went to the Florida SuperCon yesterday for a much needed Barrowman fix. He always seems to make things better. Bonus was getting to meet Robin Lord Taylor who plays Penguin on Gotham. He’s pretty much the only reason I watch the show and he is sweet. Super sweet. Too sweet to play such a psychopath.

—————

I’m also knitting again.

And tearing apart the kitchen. I’m painting the cabinets because I can’t afford to replace them. It’s going slow. It feels like I spend more time waiting for paint to dry… I had the week of July 4th off and I had such high hopes to get other stuff done, but I never got past the first set of cabinets. The fact is, they’re still torn apart waiting for some poly acrylic. I don’t feel well, so it’s been hard to get motivated to move off the couch.

I’ve been playing video games since I cleaned out the craft room / person cave, too.

I’m thinking about joining the 501st Legion. More as a handler, less than a cosplayer, but it will still get me out of the house. Which is ridiculous since I’m becoming agoraphobic. (Did I mention I’m getting worse? Yup.)

About fencing again. Even if I have to switch weapons. I’m not sure I’m want to fence epee, but it’s the only weapon available at the closest fencing place.

I don’t know. I feel so lost. So out of control.

I know I’ll get better, but I don’t know when or how.

And that’s the worst part of all of this…

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Playing in a new sandbox

December 03, 2017 :: 6:19 PM

mmmm, theo

Knowing we were going to close on the 30th of November, led me to believe I would need to be distracted by NaNoWriMo. It was a decent thought - I attempt NaNo every year with varied results. This year I lost (27K out of 50K) because I dug into pintrest looking for ideas for the house. Different distraction. Not sure it was a better distraction because I became kind of obsessed with paint colours and board and batten trim.

Our last house was OURS. Designed by us. Built by us (or the crappy guy we hired, same thing). This house is THEIRS. From the terrible paint colours to the mirrors everywhere you fucking turn. (Like seriously. Did they work for the circus? It’s like a fucking fun house in there.) Our house was mostly builder white for 12 years and I liked it like that. Bringing colours in via couches and pillows and accessories is much better than painting loud colours on the wall. Been there. Done that. I prefer quieter colours now. This house is BOLD. Even when it’s meant to be neutral, it’s NEUTRAL.

So. Anywho. We closed. We went to Universal. I had a nice three days away from my life. Time to decompress from the stress of buying a house. (Because seriously?! I didn’t SIGN OFF on an email the bank told me to write and send? WHO SIGNS AN EMAIL? WITH INK? WTF?) And now it’s time to deal with the stress of moving.

Yeah. We were going to give them two months notice. Then that became a month and a half. Then that became December 31st. Then that became ‘before Christmas’. Then that became ‘before hubby goes to Ohio’, which then became the 16th, which then became “FUCK IT! LET’S MOVE NEXT WEEKEND!” because my mentally ill self is SO FUCKING HEALTHY RIGHT NOW that I can do this. (Not even close. Not. Even. Fucking. Close.)

I need a nap, a cookie, and a hug.

I digress… for NaNo, I decided to write Teen Wolf fan fic. Not a universe I’m well versed in, but what the fuck? Why not? Those 27K words were painful (OOH! CRAFTSMAN WINDOW TRIM) and not just because (GREY KITCHENS) I kept getting distracted by (THEY HAVE DYLAN O’ BRIEN GIFS!), fucking pintrest. They were just hard to get out. If I hadn’t needed the word count, I would have deleted half of it twice and started over.

As it was, I forgot my sleeping pills when we went to Universal. This is always a bad idea. In two nights, I got maybe six hours sleep. TOTAL. Which, of course, really helped with the bipolar thing. Also not helping the bipolar thing was the Christmas celebration at Universal. I’m a New England girl. I love me some winter. I’m happiest when I can watch the snow fall. So trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I’m in shorts and a t-shirt, watching a live action version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and then viewing a Christmas parade, in Florida, in December, and realising that I’m not going to see a snowflake this year… Yeah. Totally not helping with the bipolar thing.

Which is why I spent most of last night writing and re-writing and re-writing all 27K words in my head instead of sleeping.

I’m really hoping I get to sleep tonight because there’s no way I’m going to be able to adult at work tomorrow if I don’t…

 

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Forty two

March 20, 2017 :: 9:09 PM

OE at MSG - 03.04.17 :: easily the best concert i’ve ever been to. ever.

Today’s my Hitchhiker’s Birthday… it’s been kind of meh, to be honest.

Saturday was the 25th anniversary of my mother’s death and I decided to go to CT. I ran in almost knee-deep snow (in sneakers!) to her grave and spent 20 minutes spewing every negative thought I’ve had during the course of those 25 years. Yeah, it was fucked up, but it was SO freeing.

After that, I stood at the side of the road and read a blog entry to my grandparents. It was the blog entry I wrote about our trip to Lviv. My pronunciation sucked, but the thought was there.

Totally random - next to my usual parking spot, they were preparing for a burial. It was a woman I’d grown up with, a close friend of my grandparents. Wasn’t ready for that.

Another totally random thing - my uncle’s been dead for FIVE YEARS and the stone hasn’t been updated yet. FIVE FUCKING YEARS. WHAT THE FUCK IS MY AUNT DOING?!?!!?!?

Once I got my fill of hanging out with dead people, I went to my little brother’s house for a birthday lunch. It was a good time. We went for a walk and shared some deep things that we both needed to unload. I don’t want to go another six months before I see him again… I’m not sure I can go another six months without seeing him again.

Then, I went to a BMS show in Cambridge. So nice for there to be a show only an hour from home. Their drummer’s been problematic since he started and this show was particularly horrid.  It wasn’t helped by the fact that the old drummer was there. He was singing because one of the other members had laryngitis and it did not go over well when he pointed out that the drummer was too loud or too fast.

It was a nice break from the shitshow that my life is. I’m working through a lot of things right now and I’m not sure what’s being exacerbated by the bipolar and what’s just really fucked up. It’s harder to make decisions when everything is murky. Either way, I knew which decisions need to be made and I know what my decision is… I just don’t have the balls to pull the trigger and walk away from a situation I might be reading wrong.

So. Yeah.

Я не здамся без бою.—> The story of my life right now. *sigh*

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BuJo, HaPo, BuHo?

September 24, 2016 :: 7:08 PM

Whale watch with the little brother, 24th August

Life’s still fucked up.

I can’t shake this depression - everything seems to be a trigger lately: work, home, fucking breathing.

It’s hard to explain to someone what it’s like if they’ve never experienced it, and I don’t have anyone that I can talk to. Don’t have anyone I feel I can burden with this. Bipolar blows chunks on a good day. During a drawn-out depression cycle? There are no words to describe the level of suck. There is no ‘embracing the suck’ to be found here… Not anymore. I can’t.

Let’s just say I’ve been seriously pondering going on disability… It’s exhausting to try and keep my shit together at work. But I HATE the idea of giving in. To taking payments from the government just because I can’t adult at work. I don’t want to look for a new job because the pattern will start again. It always does.

Of course, speaking of the government, I can’t receive Social Security payments if I live in Ukraine. I pay into a system - against my will, I might add - and I can’t even reap the benefits if I decide that I don’t want to live here anymore. (Ukraine is one of a handful of countries the US won’t send payments to. I don’t understand why.)

So. Our trip to Ukraine is in 50+ days and I’m getting nervous that I won’t be able to speak well enough. I still have a terrible accent. I still struggle to memorise the vocabulary and grammar. I’m panicking. However, all that aside, if I like Lviv like I like London and Boston, I’m thinking that maybe we can move there. London will probably never happen. It’s hard enough to get a visa and now that I can’t hold a job? There’s no way that we can afford to move to a place where the exchange rate is $1.30 to £1. The current exchange rate for the hryvnia is $0.38 to 1 UAH.

Point, Ukraine.

I’m also thinking about taking an online course to teach English as a second language. I could do that online or I could do that in Ukraine. It’d be nice to have a job where I can set my own hours. Where I can work when my mood is OK and I don’t have to worry about losing my shit at the day job.

I don’t know…

I’m going to be starting a bullet journal tomorrow. I’m going to use it to track my moods and use it as a to-do list and all that good shit. I’ve wanted to start crafting again, so this is probably a good way to do it. There was a funny thread on one of the Facebook groups when someone said they shouldn’t have googled “Bullet Journal” using the abbreviation “BJ”... BuJo is the preferred version. I think BuJo sounds ridiculous, but I’m definitely not going to call it a BJ.

I’ve started to read Harry Potter in Ukrainian - and really focus on it. I’m writing down the words I don’t know in a special notebook, and there are a lot of them. I don’t care, though. Two paragraphs, or two pages, it’s the fact that I’m doing it that matters, not the quantity. I’m also working on translating “IBY”. It’s slow going, but it’s going. AND I’m still writing fan fic. I’m pretty sure I’m never going to be able to walk away from Harry Potter… I’m pretty sure there are worse things to be addicted to.

BU Hockey starts in a few weeks. I’m not that excited for this season. Every year I think it’s going to be our last as season ticket holders, and every year, I renew. Right now, I can’t look forward to squat. Hopefully, I can shake the depression before the season starts. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long few months.

Oh well… I’ve got nothing of value to say other than I’m here. I’m alive.

I’m just… struggling.

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Just go fuck off. Please and thank you.

August 19, 2016 :: 4:23 PM

I know people mean well, but telling me I should learn Russian because it’s same as Ukrainian / Ukrainians don’t actually speak Ukrainian / Ukrainian is a made up language - a Slavic Esperanto (????) can truly go fuck themselves.

I am Ukrainian. I will learn Ukrainian.

And, I’m actually doing quite well. There’s been a huge time and financial commitment to it, but it’s starting to pay off in dividends. My memory sucks thanks to one of my bipolar meds. (I suppose that after being stable for so many years it’s about time for some side effects.) I’ve been working on different memory techniques and some of them seem to be working. I think the most major thing I’ve done is to focus solely on five days a week with the one tutor. She’s great to work with, never rushes anything, and doesn’t confuse me with random vocabulary and grammar rules.

If anything, I’m the one confusing her. Today’s un-translateable phrase: Ride it out. As in, I’m in a bitch of a depression and there’s nothing I can do except ride it out.

Oh yeah. Let’s chat about that, shall we?

I’m sick of finding jobs that are perfect on the surface and total shit once the honeymoon period wears off.

The woman that took the job I should have been promoted to has done nothing but spend money. Her boss constantly tells the rest of us that’s there’s no money left to spend in the budget, but she can bring on an extra body to do the stuff she can’t be bothered to do (STUFF SHE WAS HIRED TO DO), bring in a super expensive IT consultant who has done nothing but fuck up both individual computers and the company network infrastructure as a whole, AND now, she’s decided to wage a war on paper and bring in this super ridiculous paperless system thing. But, you know, there’s no money in the budget for things that are actually NECESSARY.

And let’s talk about that extra body, shall we? I. Am. Fucking. Bored. To. Tears. I don’t have enough work to keep me busy and despite asking / begging for more responsibilities, THEY HIRED SOMEONE TO DO THINGS I COULD, I WOULD, AND I SHOULD BE DOING.

I ended up taking today off because I crashed so fucking hard, I didn’t think I could handle going into work. Seriously. There was no way I could adult. I could barely get out of bed. I had my Ukrainian lesson and learned how to say fight through the depression and things like that, but after that? I was done. It’s been a long year and a half…

The paranoia that the extra person is in line to take what is rightfully mine has reached an all-time high. The anger that she’s there, doing things I could be doing / learning has also reached an all-time high. I want to punch her in the face every time I see her, every time I hear her voice. My heart has started acting up again. I’m back on my anti-anxiety meds. I’m completely miserable and I don’t know how to change things. I even sent an email flat out stating that I was taking over x, y, and z - but even those things can’t keep me that busy.

Me plus being bored is a recipe for disaster.

On the plus side, my Ukrainian translation of my Drarry fic is slow going, but at least there’s real measurable progress to be seen. Of course, I’ve been doing the bulk of that translation during working hours because I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO.

So. Yeah. At least there’s that.

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