As someone who is high-functioning with severe mental illness, I often feel trapped between two different worlds. My mental illnesses make everyday life hard for me. The stranger symptoms of my mental illnesses, including mania, hallucinations, and…
“Exceptionally hard decisions can deplete your energy to the point at which you finally cave in. If you mentally crumble and degenerate into negative thinking, you’ll magnify the problem to the point where it can haunt you.” ~ John C. Maxwell
Unless you have been under a rock, I’m sure you have caught a minute of the news and the confirmation hearings for Judge Kavanaugh and the allegations against him from Dr. Ford.
I believe she has a memory in her mind of a sexual assault that occurred when she was in High School. I am deeply saddened that any person would have to endure an attack of any degree. But the meme’s and screenshots of her face, body or emotions are incredibly difficult for me to process that an intelligent person would be posting. And yes, I’ve been in her shoes in worse ways and no I don’t support the methods used to exploit her. I cringe when anyone attacks her looks, her demeanor, and the snapshots of her smiling and laughing in court. It is a stressful situation, she is recalling something from her early adulthood. At any moment, you can pull up someone’s Facebook, do you believe that their life is all vacations, smiling babies/children. Let me tell you something, it’s not! Think about your own social media for a minute. If you are posting sharing these you are bullying the victim, regardless if it was Mr. Kavanaugh she believes she was assaulted. And I’ll get to him at the end, but he is just as much the victim until PROVEN guilty. Until then he is the victim, stop and think about high school for a second and suddenly someone just comes forward with accusations at the pinnacle of your career.
Laughter often is the only way those around us understand how to keep from crying. I usually turn serious situations into something humorous. It’s not intentional, just a coping mechanism. For god’s sake don’t think anything I say is serious at times, I have a darker humor as the things get more serious, especially if it includes the words impeachment…see, I did it there! I am extremely extroverted at work and introverted at home, and recently introverted when I’m out around groups. Unless you engage me, I’m most likely going to stay in my bubble.
Further on the subject, I’ve spent weeks in the hospital and the next day been out play golf as if nothing happened. Trust me, you want to forget. And eventually you do forget and then morbidly want to remember. So I think the political agenda took the spotlight and the victims here are both Dr. Ford and Mr. Kavanaugh during this confirmation hearing.
We need to respect each other and remember we all have rights as Americans. Some people need to not be so fast to pass the Gavel. He deserves the ability to exonerate himself, and he deserves to be considered innocent of these accusations until proven guilty IF charged in my opinion.
But what’s another crazy person’s perspective….
But that’s another can of worms….and I don’t know how this url slipped in here…https://youtu.be/uiYJ4gV_8aU
“The winner has a different memory and the loser has a different memory of the same event. Where then is the question of a shared memory? What is history? Where is the notion of a We? Unless, the victory has the grace to accept the loser into his moment of glory or the loser has the grace to accede the winner his moment of glory?”
― Srividya Srinivasan
It really doesn’t take much to be on one side or the other, you win some and lose some. A couple years ago, I decided to pick up a hobby as therapy. It was also highly recommended that I find something outdoors to give my mind and body some much needed rest and exercise. I found this sport Disc Golf, some still call it Frisbee Golf. It was like traditional golf but, with a walk in the wood in many cases, and tossing a Disc. I really picked it up and played tournaments regularly the entire year of 2017. I can’t think of a weekend I wasn’t playing a tournament or leagues. Leagues also just like traditional golf brought together all skill levels and introduced me to so many new people. During the week, I found our local putting league; all these things that are part of the sport and like traditional golf, disc golf shared similar rules and even had multiple disc depending on the location to the basket. In 2017, I lost a lot. Probably the biggest loser, but overall I had the most fun and won. I don’t think I ever really cared to win, sometimes it was more about watching other players grow. It was fascinating.
It was truly exciting to play that year. It had its up’s and down’s and obviously I had mine. What happened is something I didn’t expect from this sport. A support group, a community, a sport that accepted the loser into the winning moments. I walked away victorious last year because of the sport. I wasn’t the winner on paper, but the winners were all around and shared each moment of their glory.
As a side note, I qualified and competed in the biggest tournament for amateurs in the world because of my therapy in 2017. How many people can say that about therapy?
Wait until I tell you how I won that tournament without winning….
A story of friendships and divorce:
This is a story about a once fun, outgoing girl who volunteered, gave her heart to a community she was a part of for 20+ years and divorce. Those she loved passed judgement without question when the word divorce reached their ears. Slowly friends felt they had to pick sides and stopped any interaction. Many made assumptions, some went as far as to look away and pretend not to see her. “How could she divorce him?” “He was a great guy, great father, never wavered, and supported her in everyway”. He had been with her since she was a teenager, “How could she leave a good man?” Her reasons were Her own, but being happy and healing wasn’t going to happen in Her marriage. They were and will always be best friend. The problem can quickly as news slowly spread, his life was his community and had become her community, she knew nothing else.
She asked the same thing about the community she loved, why? Why had she become a outsider? It was a harsh reality. She wondered why the community she loved abandoned her.
The couple had chosen not to make a spectacle of a wonderful 20 year marriage. No vaguebooking, no fighting, simply be happy. They simply moved on and agreed to support each other. They had wanted each other happy. They wanted their children happy. Was it her Mental illness causing delusions? Was it her severe depression? Was it the deployment that came months after the legal preparations? Was it new friendships she had made since the separation? Soon people asked, the slow de-friending on social accounts. She simply wasn’t in the community anymore. She was left feeling abandoned, lost, and found herself in the shoes of those she’d helped throughout the years.
Those she had forgotten as well.
So thats becoming my story. Divorce isn’t a easy decision. I find myself lost in my sickness. Struggle to live, work and stay active supporting my community. I struggle to not cry everyday. My life is a struggle. I am thankful to those who continue to reach out, those who love me even in my madness, those who are still my friends.
To everyone else, you don’t know our story. Remember both of us involved. Remember our friendships. I’m Bipolar, it’s not contagious. It’s a debilitating depression with ups and downs. If you loved my ups, please love me when I’m down.
“In a cat’s eye, all things belong to cats.”
It has been some time since I’ve shared my personal struggles and accounts on my blog. Having had a relapse, it’s hard to revisit difficult times. It’s best at time I don’t write while dark. Over time you’ll understand it only hurts those you love like hurting yourself.
For blog fans who’ve read much of my blog, my cat is my antagonist and source of humor when describing those moments without words. She’s my reminder I’m completely sane and completely insane.
Depression isn’t something that anyone expects.
My Side: One night Trubel, my cat was crying at midnight. My sanity will soon be called into question, but she cried. I consoled her and she snapped and latched on to my hand, hurting me. She was obviously still angry at me for a little incident that involved washing her in the washer and a small fortune in vet bills. Possibly mad about me dropping a mattress on her or falling over her. We both have been through the ringer (no pun intended). Recovery for us both has been exhausting. She wasn’t handling my divorce as well as my children. I had forgotten my absence was probably difficult. Depression was gripping her and like my many episodes, it hurts like the flu, it makes the world dark and simply hard. Each time I came in the door she’d run, getting her out of bed was difficult. Poor baby was depressed. Each scratch or bite was simply a cry for help. My ever response, “I’m going to love you no matter what, nothing will change between us.” I continued to just be there, it’s important to just be there for your loved ones even during the darkest times.
The Cat’s Side: She continues to push me each time she returns. I’m finally free of her, but she puts her hands on me. I draw blood and she hungs me more. “This lady is insane”
Months have passed, the master gives me turkey from the cold food box. He finally mine…all mine. I’m free to sleep anywhere. It’s heaven, I’m the female of the house FINALLY! But she continues with her tactic to make others think I’ve fallen ill, I fear medication is next. I screamed at night to wake the men, “I need that turkey.” That witch has bewitched them and they treat me like a cat…a CAT! I must end this madness, stand my ground and insist I am staying in this house.
My Side: Its been nearly 6 months and the separation must be her problem. As I move stuff and I’m gone more I worry she’ll need me more. Maybe it’s her diet….it’s got to be that Turkey slices they are giving her. She needs a routine, like the kids and stupid dog. She swats the dog, I worry she’ll become violent with the kids. The cat needs routine and discipline. “YES!”
The Cat’s side: I spent the night crying. She is determined to take it all away and punish us all. I’ve finally got the master and kids obeying. The stupid dog cowardly kneels as I eat and I swiftly pat him, he likes it. “She thought I was hurting him, Idiot woman!” I’m surrounded by her memory. That is it….I’ll have to become master’s cat or pick one of the little people as a favorite.
My Side: So discipline and routine is lost on her. I’m overruled since I no longer live here. I worry about her well-being. She is my baby. My little angry bundle of black fur. I love her with all her flaws. I guess it’d be horrible to uproot her. Maybe that is her fear. She’s shown such affection to the household lately. Maybe it’s best she stays. Divorce is ugly and after reading all the experts on Google the cat is hurting just as much as the kids. Everyone hurts, so maybe she need therapy.
To be continued…..
“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.” ~
David Foster Wallace