November 29, 2017

Monday – Ran 3 miles with the group

Tuesday – Accomplished nothing, anxiety attack then guilt for the rest of the night

Wednesday – Finished 1/2 of grocery shopping, went to the fancy yoga class

Tomorrow I need to finish the last 1/2 of my grocery shopping and go running again with the group (3-4 miles). Friday is cooking/baking/cleaning night.

Was supposed to drive down and spend the weekend with Nicole, but Liz texted and asked if she could come up and spend the weekend to talk and get away from her life for a bit. I’m regretting the relationship with Nicole and happy for an excuse not to go down. Regardless; Liz comes first, always.

 

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November 28, 2017

When I actually go back and think about Southern Illinois or Red River, New Mexico I seriously start to believe you can leave pieces of your heart in the places you’ve lived. It breaks me to think I’ll probably never see some of those friends again, ever again. They exist, just not in my life anymore. Tonight, that’s a mind fuck.

Nicole and I made confirmed our relationship (again) two days ago and I semi regret ever labeling myself monogamous.

Please never find this blog.

Lesbian relationships can be swift and short, right?

November 24, 2017

I had a lot of crazy dreams last night (rich food always throws it off). One of those dreams I was walking across a long, windy, skyscraper-like bridge behind a long line of women. We were all wearing the same uniform and my general feeling was unease and worry with what would happen to us when we reached the other end. Very suddenly, the woman in front of me turned around and held onto my shoulders and I felt a wave of love and belonging and strength. Her face morphed into my own face, like a mirror (my dreams always morph), and she/I said to my point-of-view, “You are ready to have sex again.” The words were so shocking to me they actually woke me up completely. LOL.

I think I’ve been kind of waiting for a sign or a feeling from inside that I was ready to go back to sex from this year long break. That dream felt so real and so much like permission, like my heart telling my mind, “I trust you again.”

The dream was serious, but with it waking me up so suddenly, I was laughing at the weirdness of it. Honestly though, sex is both meaningful and irrelevant all at once. Like, I don’t care how many people I sleep with, or which gender I’m sleeping with. I don’t care if my sex preferences are kinky or how my body looks when I’m performing them. I don’t think sex with one person, your partner, or multiple, non-monogamous partners should mean anything strange. Sex can be so physical and so pleasurable without reading too much into what it says about you or what it means that you sleep with so many people, or sleep with a same-sex partner, or sleep with a different person each night, etc.

And then there’s that point where sex loses it’s meaning completely. I hit that point slowly, dully. Sex became less pleasurable. I began to use it to fill a void so I slept with dozens of people, multiples per week. I stopped being adventurous in bed, so much more insecure. I began to only sleep with men because the sex was faster and there was no cuddling afterwards. My final sexual partner was a fwb, who I’d invite over late at night by leaving my front door unlocked and falling asleep naked. He would come in, we’d have sex with me mostly motionless or feigning to be too tired to move, then he’d get dressed and leave. To no ones surprise, he eventually stopped texting back. The last time he came over was on December 9, 2016.

On December 8, 2016, I was unofficially diagnosed with Bipolar 1 with anxious tendencies by a local counselor. And on December 12, 2016, I was officially diagnosed with Bipolar 2 and Panic Disorder by my first psychiatrist.

I’ve mentioned it before, but this year has been a whirlwind and a much needed break from where I was on December 9, 2016. I haven’t figured everything out, but I’m much healthier and have much better coping mechanisms in place than I did then. Having Nicole has been enjoyable, but I don’t think having a monogamous partner means I’m anymore healed than I would feel now if I was still casually dating. Still, it feels good to walk back to sex (semi nervous and still a little insecure) healthy and proud of myself. I am excited to get back to that point where again where sex is a fun activity, not a product of my mania or depression.

November 23, 2017

The meds gave me the ptsd flashbacks again, that’s why there’s so much fear and opposition to going back on them. I connected those two thoughts a few days ago, so my mind and my fear felt like it made sense to me again for a little bit.

I think I’ll get a tattoo soon to represent the abuse. My tattoos seem to get the thoughts from circling inside my brain, almost like I see it on my body and I can finally stop obsessing over it. Or, by the time I’ve put it permanently on my body I know most of me has healed from it.

A little, glass blue bird on my sternum transforming down to a hawk wrapped around my ribs. Originally, I thought about the hawk carrying a moonflower in it’s talons to represent my grandmother and the night the abuse stopped, but a huge part of me is so angry at her for not catching the abuse, or letting the bulk of it start and continue to happen in her house…she’s been gone and it’s been over for 16 years now and I’m still a little angry at her. Too bitter to give her a space on my body.

I’ll pursue a counselor (a new one) soon, two tattoos, the consistent workout classes, and a second piercing. I’m still in a good place.

November 15, 2017

We’re on the upswing, folks. My memory skills are back!

Do I apply for a second job now (housekeeping’s the only option), or wait until January? Probably wait until January, where there’s no immediate holidays for a while.

Do I follow through with the anxiety therapy? Only if the office lady tells me my insurance will cover it, otherwise, def. do the second job instead to prepare for THE MOVE.

And THE MOVE…Am I decided on BloNo or am I still up in the air? I think I’m still up in the air with which major city in IL I will be moving to, which is shitty because I feel like both N and Liz are banking on me moving to BloNo. And it would be cool to work there, but not working a shitty teaching job I hate. If I were to move anywhere, it’s because I want the position offered, and the city I’ll deal with whatever I get, like always.

Guys, I feel happy and positive and hopeful again (normal again), and it feels sooooo good.

November 9, 2017

Update, Wednesday night I told her I haven’t been taking my meds. At first, she started to tell me about her med regime and how its worked though she hates it and blah blah…I stopped her. I told her I wasn’t asking for her advice, but that I was informing her of my decision…that I made months ago.

At which point she made me realize, with no effort on her part, that she is one of the most amazing people I will ever meet. And we’re not on a break, or breaking up because she is trying to get me and get where I’m at and she’s willing to give me that time. In our case, it will be a months time because she’s leaving for a trip and its almost Thanksgiving. When she’s back I think I’m going to stay with her.

No idea now if its because I feel guilty about wanting to leave or not. Part of me thinks this decision to leave her might correlate with one of my moods and that I’ll regret leaving her in a few weeks. Another part of me is prepared to have a breakup speech ready in one month.


So, tonight I got a text message from my last fuck friend (I fucking hate the word buddy). He asked how I was (since it’s been three years) and was I happy at my job and oh hey here’s your first dick pic in two years because I’ve missed you this much. The pic kind of threw me, but it’s not unwanted. We were friends for over a year. He was the first cop I ever slept with and could actually use to my benefit (got my bff at the time out of a speeding ticket). And he was/is a decent human being, like a part of me still misses him because he just accepted my crazy, kinky, awkwardness and made me feel sexy for it.

And we talked, and we’re both in a limbo with our SO for different reasons. But we got on the subject of open relationships and he told me I’d have no problem finding one, but would I like it? Am I just not built for monogamous ones or should I go to fuck friends for a while before trying a relationship again?

I’m so fucking terrified of settling with someone because of my anxiety wanting me to feel comfortable and safe. And I’m so fucking terrified of becoming a serial dater because my moods won’t stay constant enough for me to be enthralled by just one person or I’m doomed to cheat or find people who don’t have time to stay and “get me.” 

So do I stay with her? Do I breakup with her and find a fuck friend? Did I just not find the right person originally and I’m missing out on that perfect girl/guy because I’m holding onto this relationship with N?

I’ve got one month to figure my shit out.

November 7, 2017

Next tattoo. Back of right arm.

Hair is going darker as well.

I haven’t left her yet. Or told her I want to leave.

The cup isn’t half empty or half full, its just a cup, and its up to me to fill it up.

I can’t wake up every morning, or stop after every purchase, or rethink every extra nap as depression or mania. I can’t keep evaluating my days and categorizing my moods, it will drive me insane-er.

The waves of the sea will bring me back to me.

October 29, 2017

I think I’m going to break up with her. Its maybe not an actual breakup because we’ve only actually been dating since August so I’ll say that I don’t want to date her anymore?

I just texted my best friend today that I was thinking of breaking things off with N and Liz was shocked. N is the first person I’ve dated in a few years. She’s been a big milestone in my life since we met in May, so why break it off?

Because I don’t feel anything for her anymore.

And this always fucking happens. Always, the feelings just get shut off like my heart left the room and turned off the light. Out of nowhere, I don’t feel a single thing for her now.

And she did nothing wrong. Nothing about her is wrong.

And the smallest part of me wants to insert “me” into that sentence beside her and say that maybe nothing’s wrong with me either, but that’s not true. I’m the one who chose to stop taking my medication. I’m the one who has the bipolar and has the experience dating with bipolar and knows this is just how my moods affect my relationships. Boys or girl, apparently, everything still turns out the same.

In December 2016, I decided to take a break from dating (for the first time in 6 years). Before December, my dating patterns had gone steadily downhill. I’ve never been a longterm partner, with my longest relationship lasting exactly 4 months. Every time, even before the diagnosis, it would be the same. We’d date, sleep together, become exclusive, then I would have to break it off. Mostly, they got angry, like I’d teased them. Every time it was confusing for me. I would immediately look for another person thinking maybe the last one wasn’t interesting enough, maybe we rushed sex, maybe so many other excuses.

It’s just a weird emptiness to feel so much and want a future with someone, then to roll over the next morning, or to be holding hands during a scary movie and look up at them, or be mid kiss with her tongue against my lips and then feel…nothing.

I don’t care if I end up alone, mostly because I don’t care about anything at the moment. I’ll finish grading papers today and make myself dinner in two hours. I’ll wake up early to walk tomorrow morning, and go running with the women’s group tomorrow night. I will follow my routine because it takes no emotion, no motivation from me to do so. Also, none of it will bring me happiness. Waking up to her texts will not make me care.

Breaking up with her won’t relieve this mood, but I owe her a lot, especially honesty. That doesn’t mean she’ll understand, or won’t look for other excuses like our age gap or the distance or my recent coming out to be the real reasons. They’re not, though those reasons are her insecurities, they’re not it. Maybe I’ve got this wrong and deep down I don’t believe we’re going to last anyway so it’s easier to break it off now, but 97% of me thinks it’s the bipolar.

Regardless, I don’t think I was single and unmedicated for long enough. Going back to casual with all genders feels like what I should do for now, with my main focus on moving.

October 19, 2017

Living with bipolar requires patience and a lot of acceptance.

I hate antipsychotic and mood stabilizing medication. I hate the empty, zombie-like feeling. I hate the way it hurts my head. I hate how all the blood tests. I hate that it knocks me out so hard at night that I struggle to wake up for work the next morning. I hate that it might be permanently damaging my brain, but it’s still my only choice. I hate hate hate the meds.

So I’m not currently on medication.

For a few giddy days, as I transition off my dosage, I always have a moment where I think, “I feel so good with less of this shit in my body. I must not really have bipolar. If it gets bad again, I’ll just ask my general doctor for antidepressants…” and so on. Like, I can totally just be normal and pretend I don’t have a major mental illness.

I’m fully aware I might need to return to medication in the future.

For now, I am high functioning enough that I can manage my symptoms without medication. However, I watch my diet (I’m 120 lb., 5’8″ so it’s definitely not about weight loss) to make sure I’m eating healthy and regularly. I have a week night routine that I follow, no excuses, or sitting down after work or else I won’t go. I’m involved in multiple group activities that are naturally amazing at checking up on me if I miss even one night, which is necessary motivation to always go, no excuses. And my sleeping pattern is consistent, even on weekends, always at least 7 hours.

It can be maddening to be so tightly wound into a schedule I don’t want to break. However, it’s equally as maddening to be on the medication. I’ve made the choice, and because I have the ability to, not take daily medication, and manage my symptoms through my own methods instead. I had a falling out with my last psychologist, and intend to move soon, so I’ve put the counselor search on the back burner for a bit, but will eventually need one within the next few months, just for check-ins.

My antipsychotics weren’t antidepressants, they weren’t taken to improve my mood. My medication simply evened out some of my depressive episodes so they weren’t that bad, but they were still present in my life. With that said, I don’t feel happy to not be taking my meds because I wasn’t happy while taking them.

I accept that I might someday have to start taking my medication again. I accept that I have bipolar and it’s extremely serious and important that I take care of myself and am careful of my actions.

I accept all of it.