Category: bipolar artist

  • Carl, the Wolf Spider

    Carl, the Wolf Spider

    And other Random Thought Balloons

    My Recent Mayan Doodling

       Do you ever wonder if you are sane? I do. Quite often. It’s really relative, if you think about it.(and I do). Because I do have relatives with dementia. But that’s not the “relative” I am referring to. (See what I did there? Pretty clever play on words, eh?)   Reality, Sanity, Imagination, Unreality, Insanity. Don’t they all really depend on what we define them as? Sure, a learned man, a psychologist, these folks really know.

       But for me, inside my mind, I only worry when I have trouble thinking about things. Things in my daily life that other people in my world seem to be able to do, things I struggle with. Bills are a bigee.  Huge issue. I can see the amount I have in the bank, but I just keep sending payments without looking to see if I used all the money up. Like, if I don’t look, then maybe the money will magically cover the payments!

       I don’t think that is sane. Nor is buying ice cream knowing I will eat the entire container, no matter how sick it will make me, which will , in turn,  cause me to be angry at myself. Round and round the Insanity rolls.

    “A THOUGHT MONSTER ESCAPES”

       Do other people dwell on every interaction with other humans they have ever had on a given day? Repeating the scenario and mentally kicking oneself over a mispoken.phrase, a potentially misunderstood glance? Do others wish so hard for a “normal” sleep schedule but deliberately sabotage their efforts by drinking Mountain Dew and eating 6 cups of popcorn at 3 AM? ( Oooh,.that sounds really good, but it’s only 1 am!)

    “Speaking of Yucky Things” c.STMartin2018

       I rattle off a litany of nonsense during my therapy sessions, right after I go over all my real issues,  mentally making note of what pressing issues to discuss…When I hang up all the important points rush back into my brain.

    LOSING IT !!

      I am ANGRY that I can’t think properly! I want to blame someone for my craziness. Hereditary,  from Dad’s early onset Alzheimer’s. Or the unknown blood donor whose blood I was given at my birth in 1964. That surely did it! What about Mom’s agoraphobia,  depression, hatred of my Dad? Mom’s mom had Alzheimer’s also, and wasn’t there a crazy Uncle? Wait, I’ve GOT IT: my ANCESTRY goes back to the Plantagenets!! Those INBRED ROYALS!!

       I’ll be ok…I won’t give up on trying to be a wee bit better each day at navigating life. I have to go easy on the me that has had 3 major head injuries, resulting in ongoing vertigo and headaches. Post concussion syndrome is a beast. So are the residual effects of years of emotional, sexual and violent abuse that was perpetrated on the child I was, and still am, mentally. Nor to be taken lightly is my Bipolar Disorder and the side effects of the medicines that decrease the symptoms. Or so many other pain issues I deal with daily.

       When I go easy on myself, and take time to reflect on the beautiful gift of life that God has given me. And the undeserved forgiveness and mercy he bestows daily, then my heart is eased and it doesn’t matter quite as much if I have some confusion each day. I am grateful.

     

  • A Message to Myself

    A Message to Myself

    …from a year ago…

     I have been crying again. here, there everywhere. Are these tears sure indicators of a heart? if indeed they are, is it a good one? A kind one? A redeemable one?

     Who knows the answer, but my God. I used to think I knew who I was, I thought of myself at various times as funny, cute, cool. Other times as evil, stupid, ugly. perhaps at the same time

     I just cant find that girl anymore. Perhaps I’m in the Bipolar empty place. the desert I disappear in. Where drifting sand blows over my pale flesh until I cant even find myself. it’s the vacant time that comes when the air is let out of my happy balloon. All the excitement of my recent accomplishments has evaporated, and there is nothing left

    .

     My friend Beverly, who died… she knew when I would come to this place. She was an Air Force Veteran, and she would call me in the morning : “Get up Soldier! Splash some cold water on your face and get over here!” I counted alot on her strength to pull me out of this vapor lock.

    But shes gone, for now.

     I have to find a way out on my own. But then I really already know the way, because she also reminded me that I’m never alone. I always have help. and He is stronger than my heart and knows all things. He reaches down into this dark place to offer me His hand. I dont have to sit here in the dark anymore.

    °Z

     I dont have to be profound, or special. I dont have to be pretty or anything. I just have to trust. He knows me. He knows who I truly am. And He will never abandon me.So I wont give up, or wallow anymore in self pity or loathing. Not now, not tonight. Ok

     I dont have to know my name, or my past, or remember anything except that I belong to God. He sent his perfect Son here to die for me, he loves me THAT MUCH. i know this. And now I feel safe, and loved, and Im not empty nor afraid right now.

     Thank you, Dear God.

  • Dead Tired

    Oh Joyful heart, where are you today? From so much light I now feel only pain.

    Where did my optimism run away to hide,

    Why now this dread that cannot be denied?

    She thought she had come away unscathed, from the turmoil, the abuse

    …and rage.

    But disease was just below the surface all along, and now the Piper must be paid…

    Oh senseless one, unreasonable and blind, don’t mind your feeble, fluctuating mind, because as your marbles leave you, they are cast: to the wind and to infinity, at last.

    She had packed up all her winter clothes, put away her childhood toys, went to bed under many uncertain memories

    Must…hold…on. Must…hold…fast.

    Faith is a slippery pig. Love is a memory.