Friday, October 29, 2010

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 2 Issue 35

I can count the number of times I’ve been in a fight in my life on Stubby’s left hand (0).

That’s not to say I haven’t had my run-ins, tiffs, quarrels, disagreements, confrontation, argument, or push-off but that’s about where it ends. I suppose I’ve always figured that I would lose any fight I was in so why even mess with the whole defeat aspect and avoid the fight all together (some say I’m a lover not a fighter, or they call me a wimp). Maybe it was my tape-wormish figure I had the majority of my life, maybe it was fear of failure, maybe it was I was faster than everyone else, maybe I wasn’t suppose to fight until now.

I’m really looking forward to the holidays that are coming up because I feel like I missed them last year (being manic and all for X-mas and building my way there at Thanksgiving). Growing up my favorite part of the holidays wasn’t the food, the stories, the gifts, the family, none of that traditional stuff, I loved Euchre. For my southern friends you’ll have to google that game and will probably hate on it (just like you hate on everything North, we do the same to the South anyways) but for everyone else you know what I’m talking about.

Nothing caps the family get together off quite like being in the barn and milking those udders in front of your Uncles. I have determined that there are two ways to play Euchre, each effective in their own right. The first is the traditional honest and rule fearing way that the majority of the world plays, and then there’s the table talk, reneging, and questionable methods of play way. I like to play the latter of the two, it’s just a little more fun (be easy on me it’s not totally my fault, it runs in the family; right Aunt Nene).

There have been some consequences for my actions and I’d like to share one of those times with everyone. The year was somewhere around the late nineties and I was early into my hoops earrings stretch of my life. It was the Thompson Family Christmas (with live reenactment of the Nativity Scene, dibs on Joseph) and the games of Euchre were starting to heat up. Being the two oldest Cuzin Jen and I of course played together (she’s just an innocent bystander) and were locked up against Aunt Nancy and her insignificant partner for this story. The game is close and we squeak out a couple point victory on a hand that I cheat with. Aunt Nancy was having trouble figuring out why she lost the final hand so I remark with a smirk:

“Well I’ve been reneging the whole time.”

Aunt Nancy storms out of the room and refuses to play Euchre with me to this day. It’s crazy to think about sometimes that I’m going to spend the rest of my life fighting something that is stronger, bigger, smarter, more experienced, relentless, intimidating, craftier, and overall just a sonofabitch that fights any way but fair (I’ve mentioned this before). It makes me laugh to think that I avoided fights my entire life and now I’m going to be fighting in one with an opponent that simply is better than me for the rest of my life. It’s probably a good thing I like to cheat.

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

Friday, October 22, 2010

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 2 Issue 34

Last week a woman said those three little words to me that all single men fear:

“You’re cut off.”

Yes my new doc has cut me off from the one thing I thought I had a shot at for some sort of normalcy in my life. This wasn’t due to my usage (I was pretty good at that) but rather the fact that there have been instances of instant death when combining too much alcohol with lithium (could of known that 8 months ago). Of course when I asked how and why I received the standard BMD medical response:

“We don’t know.”

And before anyone has to asks I’m man enough to admit it, yes I cried when they took it away (sucker punched my ass). I wasn’t upset that I had to quit drinking (well 2 drink maximum) but rather the fact that it just felt like once again something was being taken from me and no one can tell me exactly why. I felt I had already given up so much in my life and drinking was the last thing that was familiar to me. I knew what it was like to drink with my friends and feel somewhat as close to my old self as any other time.

So once I got that out I felt better and made the wise decision to stop drinking and stay on my lithium (I like breathing a little more than drinking, just a little though). I could of explored other medicines that would allow me to drink on them but my lithium seems to be working right now and I’m not a big fan of fixing something that’s not broke (hell I can’t fix something that is broke). Adding a new “medicine” to my system is an experience I’d like to limit as much as possible. The next time you see a commercial for the “medicine” Abilify pay attention to the possible side effects, I was fortunate to have a majority of them (the involuntary spasms were wicked).

After three years of what seemed like continuous failure things are starting to turn a bit. I’ve finally got insurance (I’m killing their bottom line but they have to play nice), my lithium levels are normal, I like my new doc and counselor (kind of a shocker), new job, place is coming together, new vehicle (very soon, the Toyota’s 238K probably isn’t reliable for a traveling sales job), and if I have to trade some hangovers for that, I’ll be just fine.

On a lighter note I use to try and pride myself on having clever or witty remarks about my facebook page (purely for my entertainment alone) but due to moving out to the country I didn’t have Internet service for the first month or so. This didn’t allow me to keep up with my updates on my page so in honor of the alcohol prohibition put on my life I dedicated my page to the only girl that I can still out drink; Fisher.

This snake from the plains (a select few will get that) use to constantly barrage me in college with the challenge that every guy rolls his eyes at when coming from a girl:

“I can out drink you!”

Of course I tell her she drinks like a girl and accept the challenge (that’s that Trojan pride) and it was a close challenge. Up until I was informed that she was under the ping pong table…she drinks like a girl (and so do I now, it even says it on my facebook page).

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

Friday, October 15, 2010

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 2 Issue 33

“Hi everybody, my name is Dave and I’ll be leading the group today. I wanted to welcome everyone back and send out a warm welcome to our newcomer. Once again please feel free to share as much or as little as you like but please do have respect for the others in the group. Tonight I wanted to concentrate on what irritates or angers you the most when it comes to dealing with Bipolar Disorder. Is there anyone one who would like to start things off? Oh great our newcomer, go ahead but before you start just let everyone know your name and background.”

“Oh ok, well my name is Derek and I was diagnosed in early 2008. I have had two psychotic manic episodes since 2008 which are mostly characterized by hallucinations, delusional thinking, and feelings of grandiosity. I hate it when my BMD takes away my personality.

I have been through adversity in my life just as so many others have as well and even more will have to in the future but nothing could have prepared me for this. My entire life I was under the belief that if you work hard, do the right things, put your head down, punch the clock, take pride in yourself and your work that eventually it will pay off. I was doing just that, I studied in school and worked hard enough to get into the college of my choice, I may have slacked a tiny bit in school (the whole five year thing) but I got a great apprenticeship for a prominent telecom company and was working my way up the ladder. I had spent three years getting my ass kicked but learning as much as possible and working as hard as possible. I was the future and the life I had been working so hard to achieve was a mere two weeks away in California, and then I was convinced I was chosen by the Knights Templar to protect a secret that could change the course of history, I was manic for the first time.

In the time I should have been spending packing my belongings, securing an apartment in San Jose, tying up loose ends at my job while familiarizing myself with my new in business in silicon valley I spent avoiding the “eye in the sky” and decoding governmental (Freemason) symbols throughout the city of Denver. I “pushed” my friends towards the light and “shielded” them from the dangers of the other side. I solved the equation of life (I’m not ready to give that secret up quite yet) and “time traveled” into my primal ancestors.

The crazy thing (pun intended) was even after experiencing all that my mania has to throw at me I still do not fear it, I fear and hate my depression and it’s after effects. It’s my depression that consumes me whole and pushes everything away from me. It is one mean sonofabitch that fights anyway but fair. The harder I work the deeper I feel I fall. I begin to lose my personality and identity as all my energy is focused on fighting back the darkness inside me, the twisted thoughts that take me from reality into a world filled with emptiness, loneliness, solidarity, and worthlessness. I barely smile, laugh and forget what happiness feels like, I lose my identity/personality and that is what I hate the most; trying so hard yet still not being myself.

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,