The people we all have within us…

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Everyone has four people inside them inside them.

1. The person your co-workers/neighbors know; you see this person day to day. Wave hello, share pleasantries, you share a common bond of existence. It’s work, business, and existence.

2. The second is the person your family and childhood friends know. They grew up with you. They know you on a deeper level. They know that girl/guy who they went to church, school, or summer camp. Lived in the same county or city. You probably went to high school together. They know the base that made you.

3. Then the person your friends knows…the person your friends open up too, professional friends, college friends, good neighbors. Those you open up too and trust. You probably hang out, drink occasionally, and feel comfortable. They are you day to day. In the now friends.

4. Then late at night when no one is around, the person that only you know.

Everyone’s forth person is a little dark, sometimes that fourth person gets out of control. That can be natural. But, if the fourth person is completely different than the other three, than that fourth person is a monster.

And if that forth person doesn’t correspond with one of the first three you’re a monster. You’re embarrassed, you’re  ashamed, you’re  scared the fourth person could define you, it scary.

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The year I ruined Christmas….well technically

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I briefly lost faith that Santa, in my head was the guy above in the picture, the weird mall Santa, the bell ringer at walmart.

I was 8 years old and decided I’d catch Santa in the act of coming down the chimney and delivering our presents. My older brother who was 10 and my younger brother 6 at the time were already in bed asleep. And that’s when I had a BRILLIANT idea! Who needs to catch Santa in the act when you can manipulate the entire situation?

It was GENUIS, I woke up early and ensured everything Santa had brought….well the good stuff, was moved to my stocking. It was fail proof,  who’s going to question Santa? I’ll have a whole year to get off the naughty list. So I executed my plan and went back to bed knowing it’ll be the best Christmas EVER.

Morning came and everyone jumped up to rush to the fireplace. I smiled ear to ear delighted in how smooth my plan was has executed. As we checked our stocking, I was shocked I got everything. Simply shocked and delighted with my new things. My brothers both immediately shocked and couldn’t believe Santa gave me everything started to scream for Mom. I smiled and reminded them, I was the favorite and had been very good this year. Better luck next year, suckers!

Then enters Mom, barely awake and at a loss for words. Then Dad came into the room, I immediately knew I was in deep shit from the look in his eyes. As mom, created an excuse for Santa’s  mistake. I was taken and reminded what it feels like to have a leather belt taken to my butt. To this day on Christmas morning I can feel the sting of the belt. You don’t mess with Santa at any age. Pretty sure that was the last year he gave me what I wanted other than socks, shoes, or necessities.

For the record, I’m good now and ran into him on vacation at Disney world a couple years ago. This was the real Santa, not all his helpers, but good old Saint Nick from the Noth pole and the Macy’s Christmas parade. Turns out I’m permanently on the naughty list, but he did find it to be the best con ever.

Lesson: You just don’t mess with Santa, even his helpers.

The past and ghost that returns to haunt me

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In a moment, I close my eyes and feel a soul touching my own. I can feel the pinch of a corset rubbing my side next to my chest where I have a birth mark now. I suddenly itch like crazy from starched lace and wool. I can feel another lifetime in front of me and a warmth near my lips. Perhaps my lover has returned to kiss me while I’m in a deep trance. Suddenly, I shift from Renaissance to the roaring twenties, and again to possibly a war zone hospital. It’s the smell of this moment. The rusty smell of blood and burn flesh. Then just like that a kiss felt upon my lips I flush and open my eyes.

It made me think of something and maybe it’s pretty thought provoking. I haven’t spoke to anyone yet who suffers on the spectrum of bipolar disorder who hasn’t felt a pull to another era. There may be connection between old souls, past lives, and reincarnation and mental illness.

Let me explain my feelings, but before you ask….yes I took my meds. I feel my soul is tired at times. I’ll watch an old period movie and my soul will spring to life with excitement. I am drawn to the a couple periods in time. My dreams are also usually in these various  periods and rarely do I have a dream about my life now. I have trouble retaining memories in this lifetime, but I can tell you for certain I’ve experienced deja vu with places, things, objects, and people. Sometimes the connection is so strong it reminds me that my soul has not given up.

I wonder if my soul is just tired and failed to upload completely, I need a reboot. They say right before you die there is a single moment of rapid brain activity. Many believe this is the moment your life flashes before you, but what if thats the moment is your soul is uploading like a computer. Whatever your religious beliefs its doing something maybe uploading to heaven, hell, or just maybe you have another lifetime that you need to live before you reach the final destination.

It’s nice to have memories and dreams that don’t seem to belong to me and a ghost as a lover. In a musing of a mad woman way, it’s a beautiful mind.

My affair with a ghost

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I am madly in love with a ghost and he encourages me to write our story. Then I remembered, dammit this is a movie and she was writing his story to save her ass so they could stay together. I watched it half asleep. This tale has already been told in 1947. You can read a synopsis here:

The ghost and Mrs Muir 1947

Sometimes, I feel like my ghost is aloof. Maybe he has a ghost girlfriend or worst a ghost wife. He wouldn’t be cheating if he was happy. He visits me like a mistress, but gives me unconditional love when he is present. He makes me think and control my demons, my jealousy, my inpulses, my depression. It hurts that I can only love him and guide him on his journey until I join him. He’s completely nuts, because he know I’m married, but hey why would my husband be jealous of a ghost. He’s unbelievably sexy and carries his soul in his eyes. I just have to live for the days or dreams he makes himself appear. I am certain we were lovers in a past lifetime.

I’ll write more about my ghost affair in the future, but for now you need to watch the movie. I love watching old black and white movies. Love affairs that relied on correspondence, test of time, and separation with no cellphones and no computers. Just pure emotions on paper.

But hey, I’ve got a ghost boyfriend who appreciates my beautiful mind now. This blog is musings of a mad woman.

Do you believe in “Banking Karma”? Because this market sucks!

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I’ve given a lot of thought to Karma. I’ve done everything to try to pin point my triggers. I think ultimately I’m let down by humanity. It’s life in general and my inability to realize not everyone thinks like I do, as Einstein once so humorously pondered. I know I am intelligent, genius in many ways.  But in theory, those who suffer with bipolar disorder are gifted, artistic, thinkers, and creative. We are never going to understand normal, but we want it more than you can imagine.

In the past decade, I’ve spent every moment I could helping others, helping friends, or helping organizations. Always saying yes and trying to recognize signs, symptoms in people surrounding me and helping by sharing my friendship and using my talents to benefit others without expectations. I do it because I genuinely want to help people,  but I joke that I’m “banking karma”. One day it’ll pay off and l’ll never have to be anything but normal. I would give up all materialistic things to be normal and ensure my children are happy, healthy, and loved.

Currently I’m questioning the very existence of “do good things and good things happening”, people take advantage of us, narcissist love people like us, and the worst are those who just want our love, but never expect to return the love. I’ve given my soul to be loved and call a friend because I wanted to have a “BFF” and sadly I’ll never be more than a fun friend. It’s entirely another blog post on its on, but I want it more than anything. My disorder ruins everything , I have no control, but regret everything. I attract self-destructive people, narcissist, and the mental ill, it’s my cross to bear.

I have had a long week, two flat tires in one day, unexpected increases in expenses, and then my dryer decided to die. I did a cost benefit analysis and new thermal fuse (blown), new motor (burnt out), and control panel on a 12 year old dryer wasn’t worth the money in the long run. Those vocational classes paid off for Lowe’s tonight. So I went and bought a new dryer. As I said before, I had dinner alone, hoping for a sign from my karma bank. I hoped for a friend someone to just talk too. I think I expected the universe to send me a message. But, no one noticed me, no one talked to me, and no one showed up. I never felt more alone. I think I need a new bank account for karma.

Let down and already been kicked this week it’s not easy to stay out of the doldrums. There is no wind in my sails. Escaping a low is like learning to walk, when you’re rapid cycling it like recovering from paralysis. You knew how to walk, but lost the ability and in between you ran marathons. I don’t want to be paralyzed again. I’m sad, but I guess this is normal sad. This is normal let down, normal sad.

So I guess I do have expectations. I expect Karma to pay out like a 401k.

This market really blows….

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