Morse code

my life as a woman coping with bipolar disorder, from the outside, would look like morse code.

a tiny dot of mania, long dashes of debilitating depression.



and I am at the mercy of the chemicals in my brain. like being tied up and alternatingly being tied to a furnace, and when the switch flips on I can ride a unicorn across a rainbow or whatever image more accurately expresses elation. I have no choice. I cannot "just suck it up". I can't just get over it. For years this is what the world told me to do. To just "get over" myself and stop crying. So for years I felt like I was a failure. Like I was a liar. Like I was worthless and broken.

now I understand that my mind has a disease. and i'm learning the painful truth of what that really means.

today was another one of those days where I don't want to be anywhere. I don't want to do anything. I just want to be dead. I want so badly not to be here anymore. and the scary truth of it is that if I didn't have my children, and if I didn't have this medication to help even me out, that I probably would just end it. those short dashes of happiness are just so short, so far away. hardly worth the pain of the months between them.

I did something bad. except that I don't feel bad about it.

I cut my psych meds in half. I appreciated being more even, for my highs and lows to not be chasms and mountains, but I think that feeling blank and empty and numb in it's own way may be worse.

since I cut back I cry a lot more. but at least I can fucking cry.

I want to see if this will affect my manic periods. if maybe i'll feel that fantastic freedom again that I used to feel before I knew what was happening to me and got medicated. my memories of those times are sparkling. full of that feeling you get when you're driving or riding so fast and you lean your face into the wind and the air rushes around you and lifts your hair and you feel like you are invincible, like you're flying.


give me a few weeks, a few months, then the light will come back on and these posts will be funny again. but until then, I've made the decision that I won't hold back and I won't be ashamed of my feelings and who I am. so these posts yes are dark but they are a part of me and I won't apologize for that.

Burning your house down; It's not really that fun.

Howdy.

I know, I know, I haven't bloooogged in a long time. But I have a valid excuse.

I've been stuuuuuupid busy.

Which translates to I had a baby, learned to adjust to two screaming children, and maybe sort of accidentally burned my house down and lost everything our family owned.

Ok, I exaggerate. We did make it out with a handful of clothes, two of Ronin's blankets, 2 coats, a teddy bear, and two pairs of shoes. And one of our two family pet cats.

When your house burns down it's like going through a speed round of The College of Hard Knocks educational courses.

Our friends, family, coworkers, and utter strangers opened their hearts and homes and pockets and kept my family from drowning in despair and homelessness.

I've learned that the only things that i'm truly attatched to are my family and our memories. The only things I'm upset about losing in the fire (and we did lose EVERYTHING) were the kids' baby footprints we had framed on the wall, and the baby blanket I made for Teva while I was pregnant with her. Everything else was just stuff.

Expensive, waterlogged, smoky, charred up barbequed stuff.

I'll always miss our little kitty Lady. The poor baby ran and hid when the smoke and flames filled the house and the fire department wasn't able to find her until it was too late. Our cat Mischief ran to the front door and stayed there and they got him out before he suffered more than a singed ear and some smoke inhalation.

I won't go into any more of the sad depressing details of that fateful day in May. Instead, I will make a list:

Krista's Tips For What To Expect When Your House Burns To Ashes and You Lose All Your Junk:

1. Everyone will want to help you. Don't resist; LET THEM. It's not weakness, it's a strength to let others help. Write down everyone's name and contact info if you can, so you can send thank yous later; you will want to.

2. Cry and scream and let all the tension out. It's better to just let it go so you can begin to heal and get back to a normal life.

3. Be glad for the little things. The clothing restoration company that went through the rubble of our house was able to clean and save Teva's teddy bear and Ronin's blanket; I cried when I was able to give them back to my kids. They snuggled them up immediately and suddenly things didn't look so bleak; I still had a few pieces of "home" for them to hold on to.

4. Don't let your insurance company dick around. It took our insurance company (progressive) 7 months to get our settlement to us. 7 very expensive months. They are no longer our insurance company, truth be told.

5. Look on the bright side; now you don't have to go through allllll that effort to have that garage sale; all the things you've been hoarding is gone and you can start hoarding again from scratch!! How fun.

6. Thrift stores will be your best friends; we got a lot of clothes and books and kitchen things there.

7. Jokes about "burning this mothafuckah to the ground" get a little less funny to your friends, and a little more ..... "well, shit, dude, she might actually do it." Just a tad less funny.



Ok. So that's all i'll say about that. I don't want to beat a horse that's dead AND charbroiled.

Ha! Fire joke.


So. Bottom line:

Burning your house down isn't all fun and games and tra-la-la like the Hollywood Machine would have you think. (I say Hollywood because, hey, you gotta blame somebody.... and Brad Pitt and the rest of Ocean's 11 is a pretty good place to start.... and not just because i'm still bitter that Matt Damon didn't wanna marry me.)

Probably not a good idea, kids.

Probably....