head above water

It was like I woke up from a long, gray dream.

I really can't explain what made today different. I dropped my tree-injured car off at the body shop and had a long walk home, contemplating being a pedestrian for a month.

Made corn beef hash and eggs

visited my clubhouse, but didn't stay long.

Jim Rome and Nap.

It was 55 degrees in Baltimore today, so I took my pipe, Chelsea Handler book and Pomeranian to the park.

Smoked and read for an hour and a half!

walked 5 blocks to purchase a 25 lb bag of rice and huffed it home.

talked to Mom while cooking a fabulous dinner.

This is the first time I've felt "normal" since late July! I have a decent feeling of motivation, cleaned a bit today.

It may be seasonal affective. Froze my butt off Sunday at the Ravens, laid low on MLK. It could be the warmer weather simply brightened my mood.

I'm not running away with this. Mania kills. But I will enjoy this small victory of normalcy.

tomorrow is not now.

and today rocks!

Detoxicity and the Middle

I didn't realize how much of a hold alcohol had on my life until I had to give it up. I went years drinking regularly on my meds, and wondered why I wasn't seeing results. Now I've learned how much more powerful booze is than my pills, and how preciously fragile the Middle is.

It has a fancy name called Euthymia, or something like that.

But seeing as I love Jimmy Eat World, and their song The Middle, let's roll with that.

The Middle, going back to my cute little surfing metaphor, is like Waikiki in summer. Gentle, even sets of waves, slightly boring, but not glassy. People are with me in the lineup. Some light conversation can be had. People come in and out of my life without drama. Or at least I can deal with the drama now.

I don't have to force a smile, but it's not plastered on my face like a joker during mania, either.

Ripping booze from my life was like kicking out a big social crutch. I was left feeling like

"Now what?"

What do I do to be with people now? Am I fun without it?

The first month was hard. I actually was detoxing a bit, even though I don't get drunk. It was more of a social detox- that crutch I was talking about. What would I do without my beloved beer and my vast surplus knowledge thereof?

The fact remains I must love the Middle more. It's so fragile, so delicate. Mania, as fun as it is, is not my friend. Depression is my enemy. I need to associate the lows will immediately follow the highs in my life. It is, kind of like church taught me, a straight and narrow path.

So, after a month of intensive outpatient therapy that pulled me out of the lows, I am in the Middle.

Maybe slightly lower, but that's ok.

I'm going to a transitional program to help me stay here in the Middle. No booze since November 19. I have amazing friends that don't pressure me at all to drink. They have been so supportive! Leaving me so thankful.

"It just takes some time/little [boy] you're in the middle of the ride/everything, eveything will be just fine/everything, everything will be alright, alright."

Requiem for a beverage.

I'm into my second week of a partial hospitalization program to help me deal with my illness. Yes, I called it an illness.

Maybe I've been listening to the staff too long, but I really want some normalcy back in my life. This last manic wave was too much. To use my surfing analogy again, I want a glassy sea with some.even sets of waves. Granted I don't want to be normal.

Normal is boring.

So during treatment, no booze. Zero. Zilch. Turns out alcohol and bipolarity make for a frothy mix of blech. Now if you know Jim, Jim hearts beer. I blame my friend Andy, but I love the variety, the flavors, the people who also love beer, everything about it.

And now I need to give it up for my own sanity.

Sad Jim. But being stuck in the dungeon of depression  with a few burning man bouts of mania is not life. It's a bad dream  
So goodbye my frothy friend. I'll miss thee.

Raising a glass of peach tea crystal light to a different, but hopefully better life.

A touch of the Divine

So there has been some further adjustments in my meds, which has been extremely helpful. Today I was very close to visiting a place that had proved quite harmful for me, but my mom's advice a few weeks ago echoed in my big ole head. "Just read even a Scripture or two a day, so you won't feel alone.
 
So I did.
 
Did my standard reading for the first time in a long time: 14th day of the month= psalm 14 and proverbs 14.
 
It was ok.
 
But when I skipped back to Psalm 13, it grabbed me by the throat:


1 Long enough, God-you've ignored me long enough. I've looked at the back of your head2 Long enough I've carried this ton of trouble, lived with a stomach full of pain. Long enough my arrogant enemies have looked down their noses at me.


3 Take a good look at me, God, my God; I want to look life in the eye,4 So no enemy can get the best of me or laugh when I fall on my face.


5 I've thrown myself headlong into your arms-I'm celebrating your rescue.6 I'm singing at the top of my lungs, I'm so full of answered prayers.


Copyright, The Message


I'm not quoting to be preachy. I hate preachy. But it's short, so deal with it.
David was sick of God ignoring him, in his view "Look me in the Face!" Which, sidebar, would equal death. just saying.
He falls on his face, then can celebrate his rescue. He is screaming praise, and has lots of prayers answered.
A few months back I tried going it alone and my life went to Hell in a handbasket. I got really selfish and thought being so would get me what I wanted.
Didn't think that one through too well.
I'm still pretty proud right now, so we'll see how long it gets me to get on my face. Hopefully sooner than later.
 
For now, I'm making better choices. And I'll take that.

Anxiety: my evil twin

Depression would be nice if it was just depression. However, when in a depressed cycle, I also have great bouts of specific and/or generalized anxiety. Some of it is rational, so isn't.

Once again, this isn't something I can just "snap" out of or "Get over."

I typically sleep much more during this cycle. Because, sometimes, being conscious can be too much for me. Today, however, I did what my therapist would have told me to do.

1. Woke up. Very important.

2. Walk/Feed animals. I have a kitten now. Probably should have thought that one through a bit more but Frankie is working out good.

3. Exercise. I typically enjoy swimming, but missed that window, so I bounced around from machine to machine, getting in some decent workout, plus the sauna/steam combo, which for me is sheer zen.

4. Food: Hot dog omlette. protein is crucial.

5. Since I'm not working right now, constructive use of time. Avoiding expensive things, since, well, Manic Jim blew the bank a bit. Which can be hard when one lacks motivation. My choice today: Red Emma's CoffeeHouse/Bookstore/Functional Collective. Love it here. Coffee's a Buck Fifty with 75 cent refills and good wifi. Collective members are typically up for conversation, which leads me to the final and most crucial point:

6. Don't be alone. I must conversate. I must be with people. Alone is bad. very bad. I'm a true extrovert. I draw my energy from others and give it back in beautiful ways (i.e. friendship, music, art, being really nice).

And one way I've found to not be alone is this blog. It's a chance to put myself out there, at my most vulnerable, and have found love and acceptance. Thanks for reading. Thanks more for caring. And Thanks in advance for not leaving me alone.

Love Y'all!

Time Apart

A change of scenery does me good.

Especially when it involves old friends, good fellowship, and, sadly, not being in Baltimore.

I really wish I could relax more in Bmore, but there is a crazy, dark vibe in the city that keeps me perpetually on edge.

And I'm not the only one who notices.

But here in Minnesota, which still isn't Detroit, my home, I feel rejuvenated on this, the very first day.

Don't be mad, Baltimore. It's not you, it's me.

And you. Sorta

Even some momentary anxiety on the plane wasn't bad.

So, loved ones, Jim has found a nice den with dear friends to lick his wounds.

And while I know you all love me in your own ways, and know I love you for it...


This Lion must sleep.

And he will.

Tonight.

Depression: the other shoe has dropped

So, using my surfing analogy, the waves have subsided, its  cloudy, all my friends have paddled in, and I'm alone. Very, very alone. Some might say "snap out of it" or "just paddle in to shore."

Therein lies the problem.

For the bipolar mind, there is no shore. There is no land. We know our board, the waves, and sometimes, ourselves. But remember: I've never really liked myself. I'm a lousy surfer, both in metaphor and reality.

And I absolutely hate being alone.

Especially when there are no waves.

Things I need when I'm depressed:

1. Love.  Hugs especially. I'm physical, touch oriented. A hug I dont have to ask for heals me more than any word.

2. Understanding.  Don't try and fix me. It makes it worse. I already feel broken. "Just walk beside me and be my friend."

3. Don't leave me alone. I don't need time to think about it or deal with it. I know how to deal with it. Hence this blog.

So, if you consider me a friend or loved one, hop on your board, and paddle into the storm. In its eye you'll find a lion: mane askew, on his longboard, licking his wounds.

I won't bite

Hope you'll stay awhile.