How to enjoy being introverted…with some mad women steps….

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Let’s explore how I reset and enjoy the healthy time alone.

1. Learn to observer and watch people. It’s simple, watch children play and interact. Sit in the bar or group and listen. It’s much the same. Listen, don’t talk, unless spoken too.

2. Enjoy your time alone. It’s rare, turn off every device in the house for 20 minutes. Everything, phone, WiFi, televisions. Actually, go find the breaker box main switch and flip it off (turn the usuals off before doing this), you’ll instantly feel peace. It’s a strange sensation. Close your eyes and feel the lack of WiFi and electricity…..you will feel it if you shut it all off.

3. Learn to talk to yourself. You can always be kind to yourself. Learn to appreciate what your mind tells you in silence. Many times I’ve ignored what I knew or I should have done only to have my mind tell me, “I told you so”. So it’s worth listening and talking to yourself. No one will ever love you or listen to you like yourself.

4. Volunteer! You can do the smallest thing and change a life. But you do it on your own, you don’t do it to seek recognition. You just do something that helps others selfishly.

5. Decide you’re going to learn a skill or project. Complete it! I wanted to learn electrical repair. Several vocational classes and yours truly can fixed a toaster, wire a lamp, or do general household repairs. It was so rewarding, I continued with woodworking, plumbing, and auto repair. I’m a bit obsession so don’t use me as an example.

6. Make a list. I hate list, but make an agenda of things you want to accomplish before bed. Make sure the first this on your list is MAKE YOUR BED. Trust me, if you don’t make your bed you’ve screwed up the list. Make your bed, you’ll feel a sense of accomplishment and then that first thing is checked off your list.

7. This is by far my hell on earth task, working out. Yes, workout! Walk 30 minutes, yoga, run, or what ever your vice….even sex. I prefer the latter. Sex count.

8. Do something completely alone. I’ll go to the movies, bookstore, and then have a drink and dinner while writing in my journal, ALONE! It is possibly, my best advice if you’re a mom or dad with a schedule. Plan a run away monthly!

9. Approach and engage strangers and be genuinely interested. I’ve learned so much about people just by removing the stigma of societies norm. I’ve made some of the best and life long friends whom I don’t think I could live without if not for letting go of my preconceived impressions based on societies normal. I’m in a military community, so normal is pretty straight laced.

10. Set goals, writing it down and put it in an envelope. In one year, I will have….? Next one, In 5 and 10 years. It can be big, it can be as simple as I’ll stop biting my nails. But, when you open that envelope you’re rewarding yourself. Do monthly envelopes! It’s goals with the satisfaction, you put it in writing and you accomplished something for yourself, not someone else. You discover and achieved it for yourself.

That is my alone time. That is how I’m alone and not defined by anyone else.

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Who is the mad woman?

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 “A man’s face is his autobiography. A woman’s face is her work of fiction.” Oscar Wilde


I’m sure some curiosity is stirring about the person behind the blog. I use to be completely normal. That statement seems funny now, because I am a new normal. So how is it normal isn’t the same now? Now I’ve learned to embrace my genetic flaws. Society would probably never labeled me as normal, society puts labels on mental disorders such as crazy, depressed, or sickness. The doctors over the years have added labels such as Bipolar disorder, General anxiety disorder (GAD), post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), and Depression. Overtime I’ll share the stories behind the labels. Life happened and my brain just stopped making certain chemicals and wasn’t able to deal with trauma or stress. The big label is Bipolar disorder. In combination, I am a physiological mess and a real pain in the ass to treat. Treating bipolar takes priority, because the medication for others can create chaos, mania, and manic episodes. On occasion my doctor will give me something to help with the others, but with mania and depression under control I maintain the quirky new normal. I started a blog to share how it’s not crazy. I share my ups and downs, stories that somehow pop in my head, and if you’re lucky occasionally lunacy, drunken rantings, and delusions. I write those just before the fast acting antipsychotics start working. 
I can be very normal in appearance. It is exhausting when I have fake it all day. Those around me may never know that I suffer a daily battle in my head. I hid the deep depression as the flu for years, but rarely could I hide my mania or psychosis. I know some old friends and acquaintances are reading this right now thinking, “I KNEW IT!” In reality, I hear the whispers and for whatever reason someone always unbeknownst to them remind me how people love to talk and gossip, It’s human nature. They talk about my “illness.” I never confronted them and they never knew they hurt me so deeply when all I needed was help, friendship, and acceptance. Being bipolar is unfortunately very lonely and you hurt the people you love most, you hurt yourself. So I became very open and own my “sickness” instead of fueling speculation. 
I’m not sick, I am bipolar. I am very intelligent, some may say gifted and very artistic. I can remember the placement of every object in my house, even junk drawers, a convenient superpower. I’m generous to the point of giving what I do not have to give. I have an almost obsessive need to learn talents and skills. I absorb things and like to be independent. I start hobbies or even sports at random. Once I’m satisfied with mastering the activity I move on to another. Over the years I’ve become like a human Google of useless information and skills. My daughter asked me just yesterday, “Mom, how do know everything?” My response, “Because I’m bipolar.” I realized I didn’t say sick, crazy, or just because, I said bipolar, It’s my superpower. It’s never going away and makes me the person I am today. 
So that doesn’t sound bad at all, does it? Let me share some demons. I’ll only share a few but you’ll get the point. When manic, I am reckless, sexy, and entertaining. I am a child with no rules. I do what makes me feel good. I don’t think about others emotions. I lash out at those who try to help. The racing thoughts and rapid speech are the first sign of  my mania. I will ramble my theories and musing, draw my thoughts on paper. I have visions and see things that aren’t real. The night sky is colorful, It’s absolutely beautiful with color. The moon hums to me. I refuse to sleep because I’m not tired. I have no need for sleep anymore. I’m delusional and will recount a story from a book as my own and truly believe the storytelling. I’m extremely compulsive in all areas. I am self-destructive physically. It’s never a happy ending, the cycle concludes with me crying for days, depressed, guilt ridden, hurt, embarrassed, suicidal, and no way to explain my behavior. Sometimes I feel like it wasn’t me, but this other person who ruined my reputation. If only I could stop this identity thief who used my body and mind. I am reminded by the scars and the scars I’ve caused others. I swear to give everything I’ve got to redeem my soul as I cry in bed begging to be normal.
Now here’s the catch, I miss my delusional mind. Yes, I miss the sensations and delusions. I was invincible, I had no fears or worries, no sadness in my world. I miss the colors of the night sky. I’ve never seen the Aurora Borealis, but it’s close to how I saw the night. Sometimes, the humming that radiated from the moon would cause it all to flow in perfect sync. On full moons, it was the strongest, hence I was a lunatic. Sometimes so strong it would draw me out of my house and keep me from self-destruction because I would sit out all night under the stars. I never understood why everyone wasn’t staring at the sky. I miss seeing such beauty. I gave up my colorful night to be normal. Sometimes I will try hard to see it and cry because my night was no longer colorful, It’s dark now, it’s normal. I gave it up to be a better mother. To be an example to my children and friends. I gave it up to save my life. My days are now colorful.
I’m a normal, sometimes a bit more extreme almost childish parent. We all like to win and screaming, “boo yah” to a group of kindergartens when winning a game is my normal and they love seeing me being one of the kids. I’m the cool fun mom who is coloring the wall. I’m goofy and tell the kids fantastic stories. I give the pets voices and narrate what the pets are thinking in those voices. I have an ongoing saga with the cat that even causes me to laugh aloud. My husband is my best friend and incredibly strong to have stuck around for 18 years caring for me. It’s not easy being a caregiver to someone who fights you daily at times. I have led charitable and professional organizations successfully. I am able to volunteer for organizations and even maintain a pretty impressive resume. I may be a pack rat and sometimes a complete disaster. I am flattered by the response to my blog and just knowing I’ve helped one person heals my scars. I hope if a story touches you that you share it so it helps someone else. It was medication and good doctors that helped me, also reading other blogs and seeing others surviving that really helped me. You’re not alone even when you feel there is no way anyone feels the way you do, I guarantee you there is a post not far down the feed to prove you wrong.

Synopsis: in case you have an attention disorder and can’t finish the whole story.

I am here today, I’m pretty damn cool and I am bipolar. 

 
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