You either get it or you don’t. There’s no middle ground.

I posted on Facebook that I was going to decorate my office in silver ribbons. While wearing a red dress.

The high school honey responded that there was no way in hell I’d wear a dress.

He was right, but he completely missed the point.

I refuse to be a victim of mental illness and, truth be told, this has been a particularly bad week on the bipolar roller coaster. My mood swings have been pretty rapid and deadly to those who get in my path at the highest and lowest points.

If you read here pretty regularly, you know that the Bloggess’/Jenny’s blog entry I posted a while ago was REALLY important to me. It really helped me fully understand that I wasn’t the only one who feels the way I do. I can’t self-harm PHYSICALLY because blood grosses me out, but the EMOTIONAL damage I do to myself is brutal.

I was serious about the silver ribbon thing - I want to put a big one right where I can see it. For that reminder that I should never give up.

The red dress thing was more symbolic. I want to do something crazy and empowering. Something that is me reclaiming my life. To stop accepting the bipolar as the pain in the ass it is. I know I can’t change it - I can only control it. When biology trumps science, I need that reminder that I can get beyond this. That I will get past this rough patch.

That I will survive.

I totally feel like Hayden right now…

Tonight, I’m rocking a fucking migraine like it’s a chair.

What?

The floodgates have indeed been opened

Being forced to confront some pretty nasty demons is painful enough as it is.

Then you add to the mix:
Missed opportunities. Pain. Heartache. Two felony charges. A new wife/stepchildren.

All of those make this so much harder than it needs to be.

But I knew this would be bad… very, very, very bad.

And I wish I had someone I could talk to about it.

I need to work it out in my head, but I need a sounding board.

A friend who can kick me in the ass and shrink me.

*sigh*

ETA: It’s not so much that I don’t have friends. At least, I think I have some left since I started the Great Pull Away during The Amazingly Long and Wonderful Depression Cycle of 2011… It’s just that due to the severity of this, there’s no one I feel comfortable asking for help from. In addition, due to the lingering feelings, it’s not like I can turn to J. I think that crosses a line or two - for my more conservative readers, I suppose it’s almost like cheating. Everyone knows you don’t admit to it until you’re caught in the act…

Yup. I’m manic today.

The number one sign is that I am cracking myself up left and right.

The number two sign is that I’m rocking out in my office, actually having a good time. ON A FUCKING MONDAY THAT HAS BEEN ABSOLUTE CRAP SO FAR.

And because I never want to forget this: “glace de poulet” became “glass of chicken”... I laughed so hard I’m surprised no one came in to see what was so funny.

It’s time to spread your wings and fly.

Nothing pisses me off more than people who claim to be on your side, yet when you really need them, disappear.

I never misrepresented myself or my needs.

Everything had been explained to the fullest extent possible, and the terms had been agreed to.

We had quorum. The decision was unanimous.

Yet, because the situation had changed, and they realized that they would have to live up to the agreement they made, they dug in their heels.

Chaos ensued, and unhappiness reigns supreme.

They either want to take this opportunity and leave their comfort zone. Or they don’t.

I have no room in my life for people who don’t.