D2, D1, and D&D

D2 is out of the hospital.

I guess it was a productive visit, but he’s totally ruined his friendships with his little group from work. I wanna say I feel bad for him, but this is exactly where he was last year. The only difference is that he’d ruined his friendship with his roommate instead. They upgraded his diagnosis to BP1 and put him on Lithium. I hope it helps, but I still don’t feel any sympathy for it.

I don’t give myself permission to be sick. I don’t have the ability to spend three days in a psych ward and then take extended time off work to get myself together. I have to spread my crazy out over having mini breakdowns at home after work on my own god damn time. I just don’t understand people who can allow themselves to lose it… I can’t do that. I can’t live on disability. I can’t embarrass my family by going into a care facility. Maybe that’s a problem with me and how I’ve been trained to treat my mental illness, in the sense that I don’t allow myself to treat it like a real illness. It’s a thing, I deal with it, and I don’t let it effect my professional life even if it tears my personal life apart. (To be clear we don’t treat actual illness like illness either…. unless physically unable to, we still get up, go to work, and get through the flu or pneumonia or whatever on our own time.)

My foul mood doesn’t really end there. Yesterday I found out D1 is dating a rabbi, and that’s super cool, but it reminded me that I haven’t found anyone to even pretend I wanna go on a date with. So… I deleted my dating profile. As much as I love filling My Tumblr Blog with the stupid shit men like to send to me, it’s kind of depressing that I can’t even find a nice boy to go to dinner with. I’d pay for myself, btw… ain’t no freeloader looking for a free meal.

In my absence of a love life, or even a social life, I’m learning to play D&D, and even how to DM… because I have the time. I’m actually really excited. Cat, from work, said she’ll play with me, and we have some other people who might join later, too! I am looking forward to it… It’s definitely not easy to learn, though. There’s a lot of information to synthesize before creating a module, or even just a character.

So… that’s what’s going on in my life right now… not a lot, but I’m staying busy.

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Hospitalized

So David 2 is in the hospital.

I can’t say I’m surprised, and it’s probably where he needs to be right now. It’s been a weird week of him spiraling and me trying to keep a distance. It’s hard to pull out the pieces to figure out exactly what happened, but here’s what I know.

D2 has been Dx’d as BP-2 for a little over a year. Last year he was hospitalized when he tried to kill himself. As far as I know he was medicated and this was all just triggered by a minor fender bender.

First his car got hit by a street sweeper. I know this because he sent me the pictures, so it’s verifiable. He was bummed, but it was okay. I was told his car was in the shop and he was in a loaner, but his insurance doesn’t cover loaners, because he has the state bare minimum, which is liability only. He asked to borrow the Jeep, knowing I have two cars. I told him that it was going to be in the shop, because I didn’t really want to go into how my mother wouldn’t trust him to borrow our car for any reason.

So he told me that he got sent home from work on Friday, and I just told him to take the weekend to get his shit straight. I still wanted to keep a distance, but it seemed like the vaguest yet most helpful thing I could say. He also saw his shrink, who increased his meds.

Here’s where it gets hazy, and there’s obviously some overlapping lying, and I’m not sure what’s true or what’s not.

He told me Tuesday he hadn’t been to work since Friday, when he got sent home, because he didn’t have a car to get there and asked about the Jeep again. Again I told him something along the line of mom not wanting to lend out a vehicle that might die, even though there’s nothing wrong with my beloved Jeep. He didn’t really talk to me again.

Wednesday when I was home with food poisoning, he thanked me for checking with my mom on the Jeep and stuff. It felt like he was backtracking out of him being mad at me. I know that because it’s the kind of backtracking I do when I’m trying not to let someone know I just thought of them engulfed in flames, but I do it within a few minutes, not a day later. Anyways, he told me he’d been going to work all week, which is in obvious conflict with his previous statement. He also told me he hadn’t been home since Friday, but was staying at his friend’s house and living out of his car, that he’d told me he didn’t have.

I’m not one to call people on lies. I log the information, but I don’t really think it helps anything to call a person on lying.

So he got sent home again on… Thursday, I believe. He texted me about it. I honestly didn’t care. I have no idea how he affords to live with all this time he takes off. I know he’s got intermittent FMLA since his last breakdown, but still, you’d think he’d need the money? I dunno. Anyways, he was trying to get me to illicit some worry again, and I just told him he needed to call his parents or his sister, because someone should know he’s having a hard time. He assured me his mother was there with him. I don’t know if she was.

And then I didn’t hear from him until he left a voicemail on my phone from the hospital’s number telling me he was there. I don’t’ answer numbers I don’t know. For future reference I DID put the number in my contacts. Just in case.

This is just what happened as it was explained to me via text messages. Also mingled in there was his constant fighting with Spenser. One day they’re friends and hitting the gym together, the next he’s telling me about how he told his shrink that he’d spent time plotting Spenser’s death. I tried not to voice any opinions on that, since Spenser is part of the group of friends he procured at his job. I really wanted him to forget about me and just lean on them. Also, of the ones I’ve met, which are all of them I think, I don’t really like Spenser. He’s a burnout. More than that, he’s a burnout with a big mouth that wears Buddha beads. I dislike people that misrepresent things, and if there was ever a misrepresentation of Buddhism, you find it in Spenser.

So… I’m assuming he’s in for a 72 hour hold for suicide watch… and I’m not sure what will happen after that. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s out again. I thought of going to see him, but I don’t think I will. I’m honestly still trying to drive a space between us. I don’t want him dead; I just don’t want him in my life anymore.

I’m sure that sounds harsh, but here’s the thing… I’ve been diagnosed as bipolar 1 for going on 12 years now, and I’ve figured out how to deal with myself. I’ve managed to never be hospitalized, though at times I probably should have been. I’ve managed to learn to live without medication, even though it gets REAL fucking hard. I’ve learned to survive, even though I’ve tried so many times to destroy myself. At the end of all that you tend to realize that you have to look out for yourself, because no one else is going to, and I already know D2 isn’t going to be there for me.

I already knew. I knew the night I got drugged at a show we were at together and he let an ambulance take me, alone, to a hospital. He didn’t go with me. He didn’t make efforts to try and contact anyone I knew to go see to me. He just let me go, and his defense was that I was in the care of the people that could help me. Now, he’s in the care of the people that can maybe help him, and I’m not going to go running. I know where we stand.


In other news, I’ve had a lovely weekend.

Mothership and I went to the farmer’s market yesterday and walked around. We were hoping the Halloween stuff would be up, but later found out that they’re throwing a whole month-long festival for Halloween in October, so it’s taking a while to put everything up. I bought stuff to make salsa, and we got Chipotle on the way home.

I watched THE NANNY (1965) while Mothership took a nap, and then I bought ice cream and headed over to Cat’s place.

I work with Cat, but we’re also casual friends. We might not be close, but we’re around for each other and we get along. At one point her gay bestie was dating D2, even. She had a hard week, because her dragon baby (which is what I call her iguana) got sick. Charlie was having seizures and she didn’t know why. She took him to the vet and they hoped it was a calcium deficiency, which can be a big problem for reptiles. They loaded him up with calcium and he’s been doing a lot better. She was also informed that he’s a pretty old domestic iguana, though. Apparently the vet said she’d never seen one live over 13 years, and Charlie is already 10. Captive iguanas have been recorded to live to be 20, but that’s in zoos, and that’s what kind of time Cat thought she had with him.

To top things off, Cat has a problem where her blood builds up too much iron and she has to go donate blood to keep her iron levels in check. So after being up all night with Charlie Thursday, and going to work Friday worried as fuck, she had to go get a bunch of her blood removed. It always wipes her out, and even though Charlie seems to be doing better I know she’s worried about him, so I offered to come over and distract her.

At the tender ages of 28 and 30, we’ve decided to learn to play Dungeons and Dragons. We played once when this guy I was seeing invited me to his Pathfinder group, and we really enjoyed the idea of it, even though we, as new comers, didn’t get to do much. So we both ordered Dungeons & Dragons for Dummies and Dungeon Master for Dummies and we’ve decided to learn the rules, and then just play. Since neither of our book sets have come yet, I went over and showed her the show Harmonquest.

If you’re unfamiliar, it’s a great show you can find on YouTube or VRV. Dan Harmon gathers together his ex-wife, comedian Jeff Davis, and his friend Spencer to play a version of D&D/Pathfinder. They have guest stars, too, who show up to play for one episode. It’s fun because they have animators go behind the roleplay and animate what they do. I thought it would be a nice introduction to what Cat and I’s D&D nights could be.

We honestly spent most of the time futzing with her computers, though. It was fun, and I brought ice cream, and yeah. It was just a good way to wind down the evening before getting that call from D2.

This morning I got up at 1030, because I could, and decided to write a blog entry so I didn’t have weird feelings about D2 anymore. Now I have to go poke around for what to cook for lunch. I plan on reading most of the day, and helping Mothership install a new light for her backyard. That’s about it, though. Maybe hit the grocery. I need dog food.

Happy Sunday.

Dear Diary

Today, I’m having problems with sobriety…

Let’s be clear, I am not an alcoholic or an addict in a traditional sense. I find it quite easy to go forever without drinking, I’ve never done drugs, and even though it’s legal I don’t regularly smoke pot… The problem is that occasionally my brain decides that we should go on a bender of some kind. Apparently, today is that day.

I don’t know what triggers it. I’m not under stress. I’m not anxious about anything. I’m not fighting with anyone. Work is pretty slow. By all rights there’s no reason for me to feel like I need to send myself into oblivion, but here I am fighting the urge to drink, or smoke, or SOMETHING. I think it’s correlated to my mania, but I can’t figure out the trigger… and so here I am.

I’ve been enjoying my sobriety. I had developed some habits for dealing with my depression that I didn’t like… and while none of them were illegal, I dislike anything I have to do daily just to avoid the blue, including prescription drugs. Truly, I’ve been enjoying not running home to cover up my feelings. I like that I feel like myself and I’m not… harming(?) myself. Granted, I’m still binge-eating, but I deserve SOME habit, right? Right.

I dunno. I’m just struggling and I can’t peg why and it bothers me so hard.

I Need To Make Myself Busy

I successfully did nothing with my weekend… which is sometimes good, but this time felt like depression. That scares me, because I JUST pulled myself out of my depression. It’s far too early to go back; I don’t know that I’d survive going back this soon.

I’m hoping maybe it’s just because the weather is whack. In Colorado, you see, September weather can be in the 90s (record high 100* in 1990), or the teens (record low 14* in 1985). As a result, the days can be really weird. We’ve been starting mornings in the low 50s and then by 3pm they’re in the mid 70s. That’s a big temp jump. Not only does it make trying to dress for the day totally ridiculous, but it confuses nature. Plants try to bloom and die in the same day. My dogs are cold at night, but also trying to blow their coats during the day. I feel like it super effects my allergies, as well, since everything bounces between life and death. I have fall allergies anyways… Allergic to death.

Because the weather has been weird and the sun comes up later it’s just nice to stay in bed, or at least that’s what I tell myself. In reality, laying in bed hurts my back, my neck, and generally my being. Sitting in my chair in the living room also hurts my being. I need a new chair, but more than that I need to move around and be active and do things. I’m not doing myself any favors, and it’s not like my time spent in bed is ACTUALLY spent reading… I just sleep a lot.

This weekend, I need to make a to-do list and actually do it. I have work in the backyard to do, even though I hate the backyard. I have work in the house to do, even though I hate chores. There’s PLENTY to do. Also, I need to socialize with SOMEONE.

If I’m honest, that last bit is the hardest. I’d LIKE to socialize, but I don’t actually want to socialize with anyone I know. They all make me tired.

To start, I’m still kind of mad at D2. I think I already touched on this, but in a quick rehash, here’s why. I’ve been depressed for… ever. This time last year my depression brought me D2, and we started watching AHS together on Friday nights. It was good for me, because I got out of the house and did some minimal socializing. This went on for months, and it was nice to have a friend, but then my depression got worse and I started making up reasons I couldn’t come over. We were out of things to watch anyways. So I pulled away, holed up in my house, and generally spent a lot of time thinking about why I couldn’t kill myself, even though everything was worthless and life meant nothing. It was a dark time for me. D2 didn’t seem to notice. BUT his friend from work goes on a bad trip, decides she’s in love with her best friend, he doesn’t reciprocate, and she spirals out and he literally goes to her house to check on her after like a week of unusual behavior. Just a week… I’m glad she’s okay, don’t get me wrong… but where was he when I was sad? He was the only person I saw or spoke to for months, but he doesn’t notice when I withdraw and hole up? Is it because mine was more gradual? Is it because he didn’t care? I don’t know, but I resent it. When I needed a friend, I had no one. That’s a hard place to be.

Bird has been depressed. I love Bird, but she’s one of those people who won’t be her own advocate and get some help. I tried being there for her for a long, long time, but honestly she just drug me down. It’s unfortunate that I’m not stable enough to be the solid ground she needs, but that’s reality. I have a hard enough time keeping myself afloat and I have actively sought help. I can’t be responsible for other people. It’s better to be selfish than to self-destruct for someone else.

And… that’s the end of people I active socialize with… ever.

I could use some new friends… but I’m not good at meeting people, as we well know.

Recently I’ve wanted to get into RPGs, like D&D or Pathfinder. I always shied away from groups of nerds that play because they were previously kind of mean to me, since I don’t know how to play. I’m turning 29 this year, though… and I think I’m bitter enough to tell them to eat shit if they give me a hard time. I’ve been thinking of trying to find an RPG group on MeetUp, but I haven’t gotten my ass in gear and done it yet.

Also on the list of things I have talked about but haven’t done include looking into the new gym by my house and seeing how much individual classes at the community college are so I can put in some Gen Ed credits while I decide what I might wanna go back to college for. I’ve considered accounting, because being a CPA could be helpful, but I hate accounting. I’ve considered business management, but I don’t really know what that means. I just know I want a BA. I think that would really be useful to me. But in what?

Lastly on what I’m gonna rant about today is that I finally thought of an art project to work on. I’ve been out of my slump for like a month, but I haven’t felt creative. Now, I have an idea… but I’m at work… this full time job thing really gets in the way of being an artsy, free-spirited hippie person. But at least I have the idea. It’s a comic book I was once working on… and I think I have a better concept of it now. I think I’ll try to start character work when I get home tonight.

Anyways.

Mania & Sobriety

I don’t know why, but MY DEPRESSION HAS FINALLY LIFTED! I’m sure it’ll be back, of course, but it’s been such a wonderful week since I last felt sad. I’ve been mad, happy, content, even giddy! It’s emotions I forgot existed. It’s a brightness in my life that I had forgotten how to feel. It’s been really nice.

With my new mood are lifestyle changes. I’m reading more (currently got three books going), I’ve developed a weird affinity for Electronica for some reason, I’ve been trying to draw again, and for the first time in months I’m sober. Not to say that I was going home and getting totally wrecked alone, because that’s inaccurate. I did develop some bad daily habits to drag myself out of the deepest depths of the blue, though. I am not a fan of anything I use to improve my mood on the daily, whether it be drinking, smoking, binging, or some new self-destructive habit I can come up with. I’d been trying NOT to do those things and trying NOT to immediately go to bed when I went home, and one day last week I was just… not sad anymore.

I was just angry for days. It’s not really unusual, because most of the time my mania is extremely narcissistic rage, but I noticed that I was rapid cycling, and then the rage just stuck around for a couple of days. Being angry sounds awful, but it was really a welcome relief from the blue. Red is, at least, a different kind of oppressive. Plus I got that nice top-of-the-world feeling! Because why just be mad when you can have self-righteous indignation? Eventually the rage would lift and I’d be in the white for a while, and after a bit the white just staid.

Mania, even hypo-mania, comes with its own problems. I’ve been binging. It’s happy binge eating, at least, and I’m enjoying all the Chipotle I cram into my face, but it’s not any healthier than depressed binging aside from knowing that I’m not going to try and purge it later. I’m sure I’ve gained weight from it. I’ve been trying not to spend money since I bought my brightly colored dresses, but I took a bunch of books and video games to 2nd & Charles to sell, and ended up going home with twice as much as I got for them in books (horror anthologies for Halloween). I have virtually NO attention span, so watching TV is out. In general, I feel better, but I’m not really LIVING better. Lol. Although, it’s nice not to sleep 12 hours a day and spend the rest at work.

I dunno what triggered the change, but I’m grateful for it. I also hope the inevitable crash isn’t really bad… and that I get some time in the white before nose-diving deep into the blue again.

This afternoon, work has put me into the red, but just a little… in the pink maybe… I’m mad, but it’s with reason, and I’m not raging… just irritated mostly.

Still… it’s nice to be sober… and it’s nice to not be sad. ^_^

Now if I can just wrangle in the manic habits, I could maybe be a really real human being for a while. Lol.

IT’S BACK… I think?

Morning Time

The hardest part of my life is giving a fuck, especially on a Monday morning.

Part of me is really into the idea of running away from life and living in the woods as a crazy homeless person until I die of exposure or hunger… I mean at least I don’t have to spend time at a job I’ve grown to hate with people I’ve grown to resent. But the bigger part of me wants to care for my dogs and buy books… so here I am.

I mostly cleaned my room yesterday. You’d think that would make me feel accomplished or something, but all I could focus on was everything else I need to get done, everything that needs to be cleaned or purged or packed. Tonight I think I’ll go get some packing supplies and pack up my record player, vinyls, and all my electronics except my PS4. I also need to finish my room, or try anyways. Then I have some stuff to list for sale, and see if I can pull in any money. I’m just going to start packing everything up… it’s a little early for it, but why not. My stuff will either collect dusk being out, or it can collect dust in boxes. At least in boxes they’re ready to move whenever I’m ready for that.

At least if I get everything packed up I can paint the house and fix some things so that I pull some equity out of it when I go to move. Gotta paint everything white… put in some carpet on the stairs…

Afternoon Time

My mood is kind of all over, which is better than crippling depression ALL THE TIME. I seem the most down in the morning and when I get home from work. Mid day I’m a little manic, and late at night I get manic… so I guess I’m back to rapid cycling. At least it means that I get stuff done at work, but I also feel like this is kind of wasted since I work all day.

Like right now, I’d love to go to the gym, and then go home and sort things in the basement, haul some stuff out, box up stuff to keep, etc. I’m not sure I’d do that if I were actually at home, because the basement is where I hide all my emotional stuff, but right now I’m pretty upbeat and would like to do productive things. It’s unfortunate this will probably wear off before I even walk through my front door.

I really like electronica when I’m up. I have this playlist on Spotify that I’ve been defaulting to called Bleeps & Bloops, and it’s just weird cerebral electronica. I’ve also fallen into some dubstep recently, which is a thing I never thought I’d get into. Maybe I should go to a club… I could use a night out. I dunno what clubs play dubstep these days, though… Maybe I could research it. The problem is keeping the mood up into the evening enough to WANT to get there and have a good time, but I can deal with that later.

Maybe I’ll play video games tonight. I’d like to do that. Or maybe read. MAYBE I COULD DRAW. I dunno. I’m making big plans that I prolly won’t be able to keep, since this mood won’t last… Lol. But I dunno. When I’m up, I’m up. I wanna do EVERYTHING… I wish I was always up. Up is a nice place to be.

Anyways… Guess that’s all. OKIES BYE

High-Functioning

I keep seeing stories about high-functioning depression all over the soc-meedz (social media) and I think it’s super weird. People always say the weirdest things about high-functioning depressive types. They were so happy. You’d never guess. They were so successful. They had their life together. By all accounts, they were living the perfect life. I had no idea. I can’t believe they’d do this. They just seemed so normal.

Really, people?

Maybe it’s because I live with more mental illness than the normal person, but no suicide attempt ever comes out of nowhere. No one is perfectly fine while keeping a deep dark secret of extreme depression. No one is living a perfect life right before they chase a bottle of aspirin with a bottle of vodka. (Do people still try to kill themselves with aspirin? I don’t actually know.)

No one is fine.

Some of the most depressed people I know are also the most social, the most ambitious, the most outwardly happy… The ones that invite you to brunch every weekend. Know how to spot a depressed person? Look for someone whose life you envy. Look for someone that seems happy. Look for someone. Anyone.

What’s really bothering me about this article trend isn’t that people managed to slip under the radar. What’s really eating at me is that I AM NOT HIGH-FUNCTIONING, AND PEOPLE STILL DON’T GIVE A FUCK.
I’m not outwardly happy. I’m not social. I don’t have my life together. I’m not overachieving. I don’t have stable relationships. I don’t see people on a regular basis.
I’m reclusive, moody, very forward about my general dislike of people, and in general the only high-functioning aspect to me is that I get up and go to work consistently.
It’s not an achievement.

And yet… If I went home this evening and hung myself from my stairs, people would be just as surprised as ever.

High-functioning mental illness is scary, but not because no one ever sees it coming… it’s scary because no one cares. I’ve thrown up pretty much every red flag on the list short of actually drinking bleach. I’m drowning in myself over here. I’m choking on life and the reality of every day being the same.

Last night I went home and had a hysterical breakdown. It was a shitty day. I rode home in weird tense silence with my very depressed mother. We stopped at the grocery and all I could manage to think of to buy were Michellina’s dinners, because they were a dollar. Then I went home and one of my dogs tried to eat my computer mouse, my record collection, and generally wrecked the house. I freaked out and after yelling about how I don’t deserve to be treated this way, I left. Just left.
Fortunately, I had no where to go. Went home and dug out a giant dog kennel, which is where my darling Keagan is today… Spent an hour reinforcing the seams, because it’s pop-up and last time I used it, Kyrie busted herself out of it and destroyed her face fitting through the seams. Blood everywhere. Not doing that again… Then I literally sat in a chair and stared at nothing for 30 minutes.
Then I went to bed at 8pm.
I woke up this morning at 1am… and proceeded to just watch iZombie till it was time to leave for work. In that time, I also decided that I should just box up everything I own and either store it under the house or toss it. I don’t really use anything, so it’s not like I’d miss any of it, other than for sentimental reasons. I essentially just watch TV at this point in my life. Lost all creative juices, no motivation to fix up the house, and sometimes I just want to lay in the middle of the floor and stare at the ceiling…

But if I go home and kill myself, no one is going to see that coming.
They never see anything coming.

You don’t have to be high-functioning to hide. Just avoid the subject and people will gladly pretend not to see the scars. Smile and people will look past the tears. Apologize when you’ve thrown a fit and no one thinks twice about it even happening. You’re not depressed or bipolar. You’re just eclectic, or a little sad sometimes, maybe having a hard time. You’re the novelty friend. You’re really busy, so you don’t get out much.

High-functioning, my ass.