I’ll be wearing my Chucks even in my hearse

self portrait :: nh seacoast (rye?) :: july 18, 2010

It’s official!!

I am feeling better.

There’s been a definite change for the better in all aspects of my life and I’m expecting it to continue down this path until next Monday.

Next Monday will bring an unwelcome change to my state of mind, but I knew that was coming. Some of this week’s perfectness is temporary, which sucks, but it may become permanent. You never know. *fingers crossed*

That said, there’s one teeny, tiny black cloud hanging over my head this week:

It looks like Black Mountain Symphony won’t be playing in Portland, ME next week like they were supposed to so…

I’m Albany-bound, baby!

Road trip & live music, FTW baby! w00t!!!!!!!!

Feelin’ groovy

sunset :: i have no idea, ohio :: may 23, 2010

I’ve spent a good chunk of today cleaning out digital camera cards. Yesterday, I found some old fiction that I had written.

I was struck by just how creative I can be when I really want to. A lot of the new people in my life know me as the logical accountant. They don’t really know the person I was before the events that irrevocably changed who I am. It was after I changed that the creativity just went *poof* and vanished. It took a long time for me to get the creative juices flowing again. Sometimes, I don’t think they’re flowing as much as they used to…

I read a book after we finally got my cocktail right that explained how mental illnesses (bipolar, anxiety, OCD, and addiction) were related to epilepsy. (I think both of my meds are for epilepsy. I know for sure one is. Blows my mind…) There was a story in there about an attorney who wrote brilliant briefs and whatever else it is that attorneys write. One day, his depression moved in, and he lost his ability to write. I went through much the same thing in 2001. I can’t recall if he ever rediscovered his ability to write, but I’ve found mine. I like to think that the incessant blogging I did back then kept me connected to that part of myself.

Going through the photos and reading that nightmarish attempt at NaNoWriMo in 2004 gave me a bit of a boost.

My last two successful attempts at NaNo reminded me that I *can* write. Maybe not particularly well anymore, but at least I’m writing.

That whirlwind year following Instrument all over the face of the earth ignited a new passions in me: photography. Instrument also reminded me that road trips and live music are the kind of therapy that helps me the best. Although I’ve stepped back from being That Person That Goes To EVERY Instrument Show because of work, I’m forever indebted to the boys for giving me the opportunity to discover photography, and for providing hours upon hours of therapy.

Reminding myself that I could be creative again, that I AM creative again, gave me such an ego boost. 

I feel more like myself today than I have since the end of May. 

Maybe I have this latest bout of depression on the ropes…

Bipolar with borderline personality disorder

pony lurves the disco ball! :: bristol, ct :: march 21 2009

This is not the entry I thought I’d write.

This is not the entry I wanted to write.

Then, I read this: “Let it flow, let it go” by Miss Banshee, and it hit me hard. If you were (un)lucky enough to know about That Blog I Used To Have, you know, the one where I was open, brave, reckless, stupid, mean, etc., this one may feel like a bit of let-down. I know it does for me some days. I don’t feel like I’ve been true to myself for a long time. That blog, that domain, wow. It created a shit-ton of havoc in my life and an equally large amount of hurt feelings. That was the price I paid for being me, uncensored, without a net.

But I miss it.

I keep coming around to the fact that I want to remove the self-imposed gag order… that I want to dust off that domain and be ME again. I don’t know… Right now, I can’t. Or I don’t want to. I haven’t decided…

I stumbled upon Miss Banshee when one of her entries popped up on that BlogHer ad thingy I have on my sidebar. She blogs the way I used to, but in a much more family-friendly manner. I’m not that polished, nor disciplined, and I don’t want to be, but that doesn’t have anything to do with anything. Nope. This is related to her openness and honesty about her past. It’s something I used to be, and it started some very good dialogues, both online and off, about bipolar, depression, suicide, and the other fun aspects of being me.

Which is a very roundabout way to get to today’s entry…

The title of this entry is my official diagnosis. Bipolar with a side of borderline personality disorder. I think I’m bipolar I, but I don’t remember for sure. I do know that when I start to “slide”, I tend to live in a mixed state. I used to be severely manic… then I started taking my cocktail, and life calmed down. Literally. I’m not sure what I think about the borderline label. I’m sorry, it’s “emotionally unstable personality disorder” according to the fine people at Wikipedia. Because that’s SO MUCH BETTER.

Seriously.

Spend enough time with me - you’ll know that I’m emotionally unstable, but do I have to wear that obvious a label? Isn’t it bad enough that I’m MENTALLY ILL?!?!

Ugh.

Anyhoo, back to the point of this entry…

I’ve been in a weird place since coming back from my MIL’s funeral. It’s tended to slant toward the depression, that deep, dark, soul-crushing variety that only truly depressed people understand, and that’s pretty frightening. I’m self-aware enough to know that’s where I am mentally, and I’m trying desperately to not cross that imaginary line I have in my head. The one where I go from functional to completely withdrawing from everything. But I have withdrawn. I barely tweet and I’m never on Facebook. I’m just not interested in life online, and that’s (unfortunately) my most obvious symptom. I’m the last person to pick up a phone and call someone on a good day. But I definitely won’t pick up the phone if I’m in The Bad Place and need to hear a friend’s voice, because calling them and saying “I need you” just isn’t me.

So I sit here, trying to keep my head above water, and not let anyone know I’m drowning.

It’s fun.

You should try it.

I’ve had a break from all the doom and gloom several times, though. I live for those manic episodes, when I’m just completely in love with the world and I just want to experience more of it because it’s so wonderful andIcan’tbeleivehowgoodthisicecreamconetastesheylet’sgoshoppingorsomethingbecauseIcan’tsitstill. Yup. I look forward to being out of my mind. That’s what it’s come down to, lately. I wish I could control the mania, both in terms of scope and in terms of when it occurs. If it were as easy as forgetting to take my meds, I would have been off of them for the past two months. Anything to take the edge off of this depression…

I hate feeling like this and I hate being aware of what’s going on with me.

I hate that I can’t just “get over it” and that it’s not “all in my head.”

I hate the fact that I will be on meds for the rest of my life.

I hate that there’s no quick fix and I’m running out of patience…

No, I can’t go wrong with the Violent Femmes and a punk rock jam.

seabrook, nh :: april 2007

I’ve spent the last few hours moving files from an overcrowded back up drive to roomy new digs.

Of course, sorting through the hundreds upon hundreds of photos I’ve taken over the past few years was exhausting. I found some I’d forgotten I’d taken. Some that made me laugh. Some that made me cry. Some that made me go “WTF?!?!”

Pony.

There are *so* many pictures of Pony it’s amazing. Scratch that. It’s scary.

I found a lot of things - screenshots, word documents filled with bits of IM conversations, Letter(s) Never Sent (HA!) - that I don’t ever want to see again. But I’ll save them. They’re part of my life, and I’ve been embracing the warts and the toxic crap I’ve been finding. I remembered - while looking at a picture that made me burst into tears - that even the shitty parts of my life have value. Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am.

That said, I was reminded of BiG MiSTAKE several times through my clean up.

This one’s for you, BG. Because, well, you destroyed the scene.

friendships - you thought were strong
torn to pieces - they didn’t last too long
and now - with nothing to hide
expose their faults - and make them see your side

(c) you destroy the scene through word and deed
the lies you spread there’s no need for you
to act that way - let’s make this a better day

once like brothers - you and me - but now it’s over
and it’s ceased to be - popularity - is now your game
you trade your friends - for your stupid fame

repeat (c)

now it’s time - to mend this scene
unity among us - would be real keen
friends forever - just having fun
this scene of ours - will be redone

lyrics by Ted Wohlsen
© 1989 BiG MiSTAKE

Just because I love you guys: You Destroy The Scene.mp4 (Don’t be a dick - right click!)

Parry, Riposte

i’ve probably posted this before but i like it and it’s my blog. so there! (matty gilroy, 2009)

So…

I had my last beginning fencing class this week. I was the only one that showed up so I got to bout with both the teacher and some random British dude that was there.

I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I did very well. It’s a very logical sport… yes, it’s physical, but it’s also very logical. I’ve seen it referred to as “physical chess” and I guess that’s kind of right. There’s a beauty to it and there’s also a nice bit of violence to it. Not like punching violence (hockey), but the fact that fencing has its roots in combat. It’s very stabby. I like stabby.

I’ve got a month to kill (HA!) before I start the intermediate class and I’m going nuts. I’ve got to teach J how to fence so he can practice with me!

Anyhoo, last weekend was LEGEND - wait for it - DARY!

I always have a good time when I head up to Albany. Black Mountain Symphony is made up of some of the most talented musicians I know, and some of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. I am never disappointed when I get to spend time with them. The music’s rocking and the atmosphere - I don’t even know where to start. I can’t even… there are just no words.

Best non-musical moment of the night: hanging out back with the band, Orion spitting lemon seeds at Bill. Bill gets pissed and says, “I will end you, Lollipop Guild!” Rollz says “It’s true because he’s small!” (I love Rollz. The more I get to know him, the more I like him.)

I woke up early Saturday and headed to Connecticut. I ended up taking a detour and wound up at WEBS in Northampton, MA. Eh. I don’t get the hype. Patternworks in Center Harbor, NH is much better. Didn’t stop me from spending too much, though. I almost laugh until I cried when I overheard two women talking. The first one asked if her friend was buying any yarn. The second one replied with “I have more than enough yarn to last me my entire life, OF COURSE I’m buying more!” Ah, women and SEX. There’s just something about going on Stash Enrichment eXpeditions that’s so much fun. Plus, I found a Latvian Mitten pattern book written in Latvian and English. How cool is that?!?! I had to get that. And there was a lot of sock yarn on sale… yeah. I can run my own yarn store off my stash. It’s part and parcel of being a knitter, I guess.

Once I got done at WEBS, I headed to Wickham Park. It used to be one of my most favorite spots in Manchester when I was growing up. It still has a lot of it’s original charm. I have a picture of my parents in the Oriental Garden area and just walking through there made me cry. I wasn’t expecting that. I spent a lot of time, and a lot of money (sense a theme?!) feeding the ducks and squirrels at the duck pond. It was healing and heartbreaking - just the way it should be.

I’m finding that most of my trips to CT now have the power to make me feel so good and so shitty at the same time. I guess it’s just part of coming to terms with everything that’s gone on, has been going on, will go on in my life. There’s a reason I don’t live in Connecticut. Why I will never live there. I thought I was over the worst of it, but Connecticut, and its ghosts, aren’t done with me yet.

Further proof of that was my surprise guest to the All Crazy show Saturday night.

My ex, the high school honey, texted me to see if I was still going to the show. I had a major foot-in-mouth moment when I asked him, good naturedly, how the wife was. Yeah. They broke up. WHOOPS! Other than that, he has moved out of his mom’s place, gotten a great job, and is doing well. Like me, he needed a little musical therapy. Like me, he had a blast. (I LOVE WHEN I’M RIGHT!)

Soup and Skinny hung out with us for a bit. I taught Josh about “SPARKLEHORSE \nn/” and it seemed that the evening’s refrain was “See? They’re not douchebags.” There were very few hookers in attendance which made me kind of sad - he didn’t get the full Up or On the Rocks experience. I got a very nice shout out from the stage (“My friend, Tam, in the pigtails…”) and the music was insane. THEY were insane. I couldn’t stand still and Josh kept up with me all night.  I was amazed by his stamina (insert dirty joke here). Seriously, it was like 100 degrees in there. I don’t know how I kept going and I was riding a pretty good manic high. Better living through chemistry? Ha. Body beats science. Again.

It’s weird being with him. Even after all this time, I still feel a certain connection with him. I shouldn’t be surprised. We were together a while and well… there was a reason we were together. There was a reason we got back together after we broke up. And there was a reason we broke up. Twice. Of course, he’s not that person anymore. I’m not either. But what’s happened has happened and the people we are now still get along very well.

At any rate, it was a successful weekend on so many levels.

I do so much better when I take the time to keep myself happy…