Mentally Healthy – Page 5 – A Most Unreliable Narrator

shoes

Dear Internet,
It is nearly two years since my surgery and where I should be versus where I actually am are two wholly different things.
Whenever I get angry about the state of my feet, I seem to conveniently forget I was laid up for four months after surgery number one, on a wound vac for another two, then laid up again for another two months before finally being released from care nearly a year after the first surgery. Of course I’m not going to be where I think I should be at — nor would anyone else.
Logic and rational are not players in this game. When the world in my head is crashing, far easier to blame something you cannot control versus something you can.
In this case, the size of my feet.
This was much of my attitude this morning on my way to work. TheHusband had gifted me with a pair of fairly expensive ballet flats for the holidays, a pair similar to the brethren I purchased last summer. Instead of leather, however, the fabric was cloth so when I slid my feet into them the shoes had no stretch.
That is something I have to account for now post-surgery: my feet will be different sizes during the day and I need shoes to be flexible to fit that criteria. The company’s reputation for customer service was earned when a new pair in leather arrived on my doorstep, same size as the previously purchased pair, which I threw into my travel bag when I hopped a flight to San Francisco for a job interview in April.
During that trip, the new pair felt odd but I couldn’t put my finger on why the shoes felt weird. They went on easily enough but they didn’t fit right. I sized the new pair against their brethren and found the new pair was 1/2″ shorter than the pair I had been wearing for months. I contacted the company who sent me out another pair in the same size — maybe the first replacement was a mismatch? Nope. The now third pair of flats were matched up against my happily worn pair also had the same problem. Perhaps my original pair was the mismarked ones then? I sent the request in for another pair to exchange, this time for a size up which arrived the day of my birthday.
A size 12.
For some reason I’m recalling my first pair of adult shoes was purchased when I was 9 or 10, in a woman’s size 10. I have always not been tall, so size 10s at a young age made sense to me. I wore 10s for most of my early teenage years and into my 20s when the 10s stopped fitting — weight gain, arthritis, life — moved me into 11s. A few years ago when trying to size running shoes, the sales person tried to convince me I needed 12s not 11s and I laughed in her face. I don’t care WHAT your scale says, I wear 11s and then proceeded to stomp out the store in due form.
Because I apparently cannot have fat feet.
Feet change and they grow (and shrink!); they are not consistent no matter how much we want them to be. The part of our body that we abuse the most, we treat with so little respect. This is not a treatise to feet, but maybe it should be.
I tried on the 12s, which fit like a glove out of the box. I attempted to get over myself on the shoe size prejudice. A size meant nothing if they fit well and were comfortable and this was true of the new pair. My right foot, now an 11.5w thanks to the surgeries felt great. The left foot? 10.5b felt a little loose. I can make this work, I thought. I added on a pair of secret lady socks to keep my feet in place (leather!) and went about my merry little way.
Except yes, my feet do change. By the time I was leaving work nine hours later, my right foot had ballooned (as it tends to do after a day where I’m on my feet a lot) and was snug in its shoe. The left shoe, however, flapped off my foot like an evil clown smiling to children as I walked.
I angrily walked to my car, feeling as if my frustration of my life was based solely on this pair of ill-fitting shoes. Why couldn’t I own a nice pair of shoes that fit? How was the first pair I purchased a perfect fit but its brethren were horrible matches? Why was everything so complicated? Why were people such assholes? Why can’t we have nice things?
Why am I so angry over a pair of shoes?
xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe:

attending shenanigans

Dear Internet,
It’s spring and along with it being the prime for allergies, it’s also cold drink season. Years ago I was introduced to the Toddy Cold Brew system via Kate and have been hooked on it ever since. Since I’ve been (more or less) caffeine free since January 1, and my recent exposure to caffeine did not end the world, I decided to mix 60% decaf and 40% caf coffees together for my first cold brew batch of 2014. The reason for the mix was that I did not quite have enough decaf for the brew and had extra caffeinated hanging around, so why not?
Big mistake.
The standard serving measurement is 1/4 cup of the concentrate per 8oz of milk or water. On Saturday, after brewing the coffee for about 24 hours, I mixed 1/4 cup concentrate, ice, and about 12oz of vanilla almond milk for consumption.
I was high all of Saturday and far into Sunday. I was so manic I opined the following on Facebook:

J. seriously considered throttling me in stores.
Case in point: Looking for shorts to wear to play tennis tomorrow, thought it bright idea to try them on outside regular clothes mid-aisle.
Subtitle: Keeping it classy since 1972.

I was so manic that even though I took one Klonopin that night to knock me out, that wasn’t quite enough to knock me back into the netherworld I so desperately needed, which lead into more mania into Sunday.
On Monday, because I hate throwing away waste and rather enjoy the brain mixing, I tempered down to 1/8th cup of concentrate, ice, milk and the mania was still on fire. Not as bad as over the weekend, but still pretty awful. A Klonopin was produced.
Tuesday, I took it down to a tablespoon of concentrate, then mixed in the ice/milk and we seem to have a winner. I can still get coffee taste without wasting what I had already produced AND most importantly, without enflaming the mania. I’ve been doing this combination, mixed with 1/8th cup of water to help the dilution, all week and so far its been working.
It will take me a very long time to go through this batch.
As the cycle of the mania continues its elliptical path, when I was feeling so calm a few weeks prior, I wasn’t too surprised I started crashing Thursday morning. I’ve noticed my agitation on certain things escalates when I’m peaking during the mania, right before the downward dog starts occurring.
One thing I’m super impressed with myself on is my new superhero power of pulling in the crazy before all hell breaks loose. I found myself in a variety of stressful situations this week where I could have done some real damage. I swallowed hard the impulse, which seemed to sap a lot of my strength, but I’m just puffed I was able to keep it together. To be sure, there some difficult situations I had to address, even if I tried to escape from them, so I settled on brusque politeness to get the job done. That seemed to have done the trick.
Sometime this week, I found out it was National Mental Health Month, which lead me to my twice yearly search for a national foundation for people with bipolar in the United States. The United Kingdom has one, why don’t we?
After much digging around the Internet, I finally found a nationwide organization that supports both depression and bipolar, what has a local chapter here in Grand Rapids. I got in touch with the leader and they do indeed meet 2x a month, so I’m going to be checking this out.
I am suspicious of such things, as I am always suspicious of these matters. The last group meetings I did was about a decade ago for Borderline Personality Disorder which freaked me out more than helped. People obviously much sicker than me, barely able to cope with their daily lives, that I felt like an imposter within their midst. I wasn’t REALLY sick, because I was functioning far more in day to day lives then they were. The doctor amped them up on drugs for control, she pulled me off of mine and kept telling me how lucky I was to be so well adjusted despite my maladies.
Right now I feel like I’m grasping at straws. Drugs don’t work, thus I need better coping mechanisms. After awhile, you get tired of crying in your car as you head home because you’re too manic to cook bacon, because you know if you do you may accidentally set something on fire. You’ve done it before and you know you will do it again. Your whole life is a chain reaction against a single action, inflamed by this disease.
I wonder if any therapist ever gets that we want more than to “function”? We want the normalcy that we envy in others. We want to do more than just be able to hold down a job or attend school or keep a house. We want to live.
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2013

A coil of rope worn over the shoulder by smugglers

Dear Internet,
Mania works like this, with ADHD added for extra charisma (+4):
Your mind is not in any one place. It is HERE. It is THERE. It grabs things in between and forces it into an imaginary motorboat that leaves your mind wet.
Things are started and not finished. You tell people you are forgetful not because you actually forget but because you have too much to remember.
Onlythebravewillaskyoutoslowdownwhenyoustartspeakingsofastthatthewordsjusttumbleoutofyourmouth. Mostwillpickupontheeveryoddwordtomakesenseofwhatyou’resaying.
Everything is shiny, but there is often long periods of boredom which is underpinned by how overwhelmed you are. So projects are started, dropped, picked up, dropped, started over. Add. Rinse. Repeat. You used to liken it as learning to play chopsticks and thinking you could then produce Beethoven in a fortnight.
You still think you can play Beethoven in a fortnight.
During mania, your confidence will teether on being megalomaniac. No, not teether – is megalomaniac. You are invincible. You are infallible. The world is your oyster. You can get, and have received, nearly everything you’ve wanted. You will take it by any means necessary. You are the BEST. You are the ONE.
You will do it your way or tell people who disagree with you to fuck off. You think those who are not like you are weak, and especially those who display low self-esteem. You laugh at stereotypes often applied to you, because your megalomania trumps normalcy. You do not fit into a perceived idea of what you should be, so you think you are a special snowflake.
You might be right.
Your mind does not rest. It is a painful slow curve of a headache that stretches low across the forehead. Throbbing. Continuous. You’ve gotten so used to that feeling that not having it seems abnormal. Drugs can sharpen your mind from the fuzzy waters it treads on, but there is always a price to pay for the drugs.
Sometimes you rationalize you just cannot care.
You’ll shoot from the hip, your mouth smoking from the rapid fire comebacks, but that is just your way. You’re brusqueness, because you are economizing on time and emotion, most often repels people but you disagree with their assessment (of course you do) because if they can’t deal, then you think they are not worthy of your time. People will either love you or hate you.
(Truthfully, most humans are pretty useless.)
When you’re maniac, you can create a wondrous world around you and invite everyone to see, and all that do see seem to be entranced. You are EXCITING. You cannot decide if they are enraptured with you or think you’re a hot mess, but the truth doesn’t really matter. The dichotomy of your brassiness is tempered with charm, so you at least recognize you’re an acquired taste but you hypothesize you’re worth the wait.
(Many do seem to agree, to the chagrin of a few.)
You’ve done a pretty good job of starving off most personal friendships. You cling to a few, but you are often too exhausted to expand your circle. Keeping your mask on to function does take its toil. If not emotionally, physically. But you pine for the groups and friendships that always seem to elude you.
You crave that normalcy, the days when your mind is not whizzing along at the speed of sound, when you don’t create tick off a list to keep your personality in check before you leave the house.
You do understand that day may never, ever come.
We have not touched upon bad life choices, indiscretions, and other vague regrets when one is manic, but that is okay. Those stories are better in one off settings when you’re preparing to entrance a new groups of people, to woo them to your lair.
You have become a modern day Schenzernade and it suites you.
There is also the lack of sleep, the existing on 2-3 hours a night that will happen if something is not put in check, whether by drugs or other. You think with that much open space, you would get work done, BE CREATIVE, SOLVE CANCER, but mostly it just turns into you wandering the internet late at night, wondering why you feel so alone.
You’re okay with everything because you’ve finally learned to live with your gifts and recognize when the crazy hits and how to react when it does. While you can balance the mania, and create a structure to keep it contained, what you most fear is the day when you will crash.
Because one day it will and then everything begins anew.
Stay thirsty my friends.
xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2011, 1999

familiaritas obscenitas

Dear Internet,
I knew mania was upon me not because my brain was slightly throbbing or that I was feeling more invincible than usual, but when having lunch with work husband #3, I was keenly intent on the fish monger and his ice. So much so, I struck up a conversation with him about the habits of keeping the oysters and other delicacies chilled as they laid prettily in the case. I followed up my witty banter with some succinct comment on ice machines and what not.
Really, I am quite the charmer.
Sometimes I don’t know what is worse, curled up in bed in an attempt to keep the world at bay or when it flips and I need to fix all of the world’s problems right this very minute. And if it means staying up until the deepest witching hours to get started, then so be it.
Two weeks ago I was so struck with anxiety and despair, I could barely leave my hotel room while attending a conference. Earlier this week, I was so overwrought with rage that the only way to keep myself from falling apart is reading trashy literature. Then it shifts again and now I am HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY.
And making inane conversation with random fish mongers.
I used to long for normalcy, or even better, a chance of being more even. Now, as soon as this week, I’ve realised those are not the things I need, they are the things I want. What I need is a way to harness, if that is even more possible, and make the fan dance of moods work for me rather than against. Stop censoring myself, for one.
And if the darkness comes, and it has , then I need to surrender to it. As long as I don’t let it swallow me whole, as long as I remind myself it will pass (and it will), to be mindful as much as I can that this is cyclic and I will whirl around the peg board towards something else, then I can survive. To quote Neil Gaiman,

Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.

And even the very most important thing to remember, (somehow I have to create very visible reminder), to is to apply self-care. Generously. Without regret. For that is how we will slay the dragons.
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe:

gratus animus

Dear Internet,
Today’s topic is gratitude, what is it, how to use it, and what it is good for. Namely, is it some crystal-pyramid-unicorn-touting-touchy-feely concept so many life coaches and feel good evangelists tout as a viable way to find better harmony within yourself or is it being used as a gateway for products and services that you do not need but are constantly told you do? Or can you skip the shamans and their wares and change your life by applying daily doses of gratitude on your own?
If you define: gratitude and use the drop down drawer below the definition in Google, you will see the following:

What’s interesting to me is not word use dipped over time, but the uptick that begins in about the year 2000, roughly when we started becoming more public with our new agey ways of life.
I will be the first to admit when it comes to crystal-pyramid-unicorn-touting-touchy-feely concepts, I am skeptical. But, I do not see the harm in trying something to see if it fits your lifestyle and if it helps? Who cares if it comes covered in sparkles and dragon semen. And as we all know, I am a big fan of not following convention.
Back in December, I decided to start exploring the concept of making myself happy, which did not get the kick off I wanted. But that’s okay, life is about being able to roll with the changes and being as fluid as possible.
But that does not mean I’m not always thinking about ways to make my inner life more pleasurable, centered, and overall better. As someone who cannot metabolize 99.99% of the drugs on the market for my various gifts (Bipolar, ADHD, anxiety), it is imperative to me to find non-drug ways to get my brain in order.
Cutting out caffeine from my diet and doing my daily morning five minute meditation, when I remember, has helped tremendously. But this is often not enough. My gifts creep up when I least expect them and even being cognizant of your maladies is often not enough to keep the demons at bay. Thus, I’ll try anything once.
Sometimes twice, just to make sure I really like it.
I recently came across an article on how to be happier in 5 minutes a day. The idea is pretty simple: You spend $30 on a pre-fabbed notebook, answer the prompts, and viola! Happiness is all yours.
But only if you shell out for the $30 notebook first. Of course.
Now I collect notebooks like crazy such as any project needs its own notebook, and yes! This time, I will start a paper journal and keep it forever. And look! These were on sale!
You know how it is.
So instead of splashing out on yet another notebook that I would use for two days, I made my own. I pulled out an old Moleskine I had repurposed for other projects and was a bit on the falling apart side, so it was perfect for the project. I used colored fountain pens, calligraphy markers, and Sharpies to plan out the journal. I created a title page and index pages to act as a table of contents. I figured if I kept this going for the remainder of 2014, I’d need enough space to allow for the growing table of contents.
After the index was completed, I used a wide tip calligraphy marker to print out the DATE at the top of each page, and then starting from the bottom up, every five to six lines would be a new prompt.
Thankfully, the article had an image of what the inside look like and the prompts seemed easy enough.

Three things I am grateful for
What would make today awesome
A daily affirmation
Three amazing things that happened
How could I have made today better

In the bought-for journal, at the top of the page is some prescribed quote and a weekly challenge. In my version, I left the space intentionally blank. I decided to add a quote, image, or something that caught my eye for the day. The idea then being putting it next to your bed and writing in it in the morning first thing and at night, as the last thing. This is not to be a roundup of what I did all day and etc, but just little capsules of things that you experience every day and are grateful for.
I spent an evening putting it together and while it looks like a Life Saver exploded on the pages, I decided to give it a go for a few weeks and see how I felt.
(I just noticed I put “sexy dreams” as something I was grateful for within five days of each other. What can I say, I really like my sexy dreams. Even more so when mine seem to have a rotating cast of characters.)
The first few days I found myself kind of halting about what to put down, especially in the “Three Amazing Things That Happened” prompt because I am not someone who goes around saying “amazing,” more like “brilliant.” (Note to self, change “amazing” to “brilliant” in the next version.)
The “Daily Affirmation” prompt turned out to be quizzical at first because I was determined to not write trite cliched shit or spend 900 hours looking up inspirational quotes on the internets. I wanted it to be things that I believed in and felt were true to me, and would come naturally from within. That turned out to be the easiest prompt to fill in when I thought for sure it was going to to be the hardest.
So nearly a week in and I found myself thinking more about the things that I have rather than the things that I want. This is a huge change in thought for me, because if there is one constant in my life it is that I am always on the lookout for the next THING no matter what it is. Finding a way to step back and learning to appreciate what I have is tantamount to my inner world.
Do I feel joy, inner divinity, and oneness with the world? Not quite, but I can see how just spending five minutes a day writing down what is important to me (obviously sexy dreams) and daily reminders of what it means to be me, even if it sounds hokey, is possibly turning out to be a very good thing.
xoxo,
Lisa
P.S. If you have ever watched Spartacus, how the characters often said “gratitude” is running through my brain as I wrote this piece.

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2013, 2013, 2003

40 Days and 40 Nights: Taking a vacation from social media

Dear Internet,
Last November I made the adulting decision to give up Facebook for a variety reasons. I forgot to add to those reasons the “theymeanwellers” and “helpfuladvicers.”
Theymeanwellers are the types who almost habitually post the same shit other people have already posted on your Facebook wall because they think you may like it — even though it’s clear 900 others thought the same. They are kin to the helpfuladivcers, who when you post an image showcasing your meal for the night, will offer up unsolicited advice on how it should have been cooked, presented, or something of that ilk. If you make a statement about your allergy, will start educating you on said allergy even though they are not allergic themselves to OR have any type of medical expertise or education.
You know these types. May the gods save you if you even point out what they are doing is not well or helpful for you’re a terrible, awful person.
The above coupled with Facebook’s continuing disregard for respect and allowing people to control their own privacy, Byzantine rules for posting content and how it was being viewed, I left.
I said,

If we’re friends on Facebook, as of this writing, I’ve deactivated my account. I have a private account I’m using to manage pages since several projects require it, and if we were friends on that particular account, I’ve unfriended you and made it as private as Facebook possible.
…there is an intimacy associated with Facebook that isn’t even available anywhere else, regardless of how many layers I peel back as I write on this site. I need to reign in the control of what the world can see and Facebook was the first to go. At least here, in my sandbox, I’m forcing you to come to me and not the other way around.

Since that time, I’ve gotten the occasional email, text, ran into someone locally who wanted to know where I was and why I hated them. But out of over 300 Facebook BFFs, I’ve heard from about two dozen in some capacity as to why I left. Almost all thought it was personal and about them.
It has not been a totally glorious rebellion as there have been a few kerfuffles on participating on some sites because they ONLY allow Facebook connect to add content and I’ve chosen to just not participate. Or apps that require ONLY a Facebook account to function, so I stop using the app. Overall, I’ve been pretty happy about stripping Facebook out of my life. The private account, which has been stripped of identification, locked down, and only used to manage pages, remains blissfully ignorant of any drama, shitty product endorsement, and related items.
Five years ago, I gave up Twitter for Lent and then wrote about coming back after the break.
Then I noted that all the supposed free time I thought was going to appear, didn’t. But I was wholly naive in the process because I was bloody on Facebook the entire time! Giving up Twitter wasn’t really a hardship rather it was feeding the obsession (Twitter) into another (Facebook). I may have patted myself on the back for being so restrained during that period, but who the fuck am I kidding?
Twitter has started to go the route for Facebook for me in that the bullies, the “theymeanwellers,” the “helfpfuladvicers,” and now the “talkarounders” are starting to grow in leaps. Talkarounders are a breed I’ve identified of people who, for whatever reason, talk about you, your work, or things related to you and your work without engaging you. It’s frustrating trying to work on goals when people dismiss you on a regular basis so while I’ve stopped following and engaging, they still creep into my world.
So I’ve decided that I’m not giving up one or the other, I’m giving them all up for 40 days. But, and I have to stress this, much my work requires me to be socially active. Any content posted will be done automatically and I will not be engaging anywhere. Here are the rules:

No Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, Google+, Instagram, or any other social media engaging or responding from March 5 – April 17
Content posted from EPbaB will continue to auto-post to Twitter, Facebook, LiveJournal, Google+, and Tumblr. It is also available via RSS
If you comment/respond anywhere or send me DMs through any service, I will not respond or engage. If you want to get in touch, I recommend sending me an email

What do I hope to gain out of this? Less stress about being up to the minute on everything. Less frustration from people’s stupidity. More work on the projects that are important to me. More time with TheHusband. More time to read.
More of everything.
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2013, 2003

About that job description

Dear Internet,
Tuesday was the first day in 76 days I missed a day writing. Wednesday too. And you know what? I’m okay with that. But today’s entry will explain some of what has been going on.
My job posted yesterday.¹
I am not reapplying for the position.
While I love working with students and seeing everything click when they get it, my passion remains and has always been in technology. With the college’s direction for the position, and the rewording of the position itself, it would be in my best interest to find a position that would better align with my career goals.
Some of you may not know my circumstances, so I’ll catch you all up.
I was hired as an adjunct in 2011. That fall, after two separate interviews, I was hired in as the systems librarian. The position was open for an academic year before I was hired. During this time, the faculty union, which librarians are a member of, were in negotiations with the college for their contract. All of us that were hired in the 2011-12 academic year were hired in as contingency employees. Our contracts were renewed on a year to year basis as contracts continued to be in negotiation.
In the 2012-13 academic year, the union and college came to an agreement with contract negotiations. Contingency faculty such as myself were not included as part of the agreement. We were told that all 40 positions would be reopened to a nation wide search. We could elect to apply for the position if we’d like, but please note that any time we worked prior to the now tenure track position would not be included when we apply.
My original position, while similar in wording to the current position, was sold to me as being 75% Systems / 25% everything else. The college’s push for student success has changed significantly in the last three years — every part of our core job services has been significantly amped towards student success and instruction. Out of my 35 scheduled hour week, I spend 10 hours on reference, 10-15 hours prepping/teaching/wrap up for info lit classes, 5-10 hours a week during liaison work, whatever time is left over doing systems. This also does not include my involvement time spent on meetings for internal department groups and college wide meetings. Or lunch.
When the job posting went live yesterday, those who knew me started emailing and tweeting asking what was the deal. Many asked if they had missed something on my blog? I made it a point to not publicly discuss my work here but to point people to my writing over at my professional blog, of course I did not discuss the terms of my employment because I had no idea what was going to happen to me.
Despite repeated assurances I would be notified when the job posted, I was not told. I found out the job was being posted several hours before it went live by finding a copy of the posting on our internal network of job positions.
As I read through the document, the last line under Minimum Qualifications set off all kinds of bells:

Ability to demonstrate the mental health necessary to safely engage in the librarian discipline as determined by professional standards of practice.

I called HR immediately.
I had a meeting with HR about this line and stated it was not only illegal but inflammatory and discriminatory. I was informed it was a directive from the director of accessibility to add that line to the 19-20 job postings that were going out. I was then asked by HR to provide language from ADA about the discrimination and illegality of the content, but HR did agree the language did not sound correct.
This morning I emailed HR several direct sources of ADA information from the government. I did not hear back.
Completely independent of my actions, various people picked up on the mental health line in the job description as it was being distributed via national job hiring networks. I was tipped off by various people the extent of the uproar over Twitter and over at Tumblr. Lots of people took the college to task for its faux pas. Near end of business day, the college responded:
Screen Shot 2014-01-15 at 11.55.39 PM

Now, before the Internet got wind of everything, I DID post my job was available on Twitter and that while I was not reapplying, I would sincerely answer any questions had about the position.
And while I will not comment publicly on the events other than what I’ve laid here, I have responded to people’s comments about “the past employee in that position” and I repeated my offer from earlier in the day that if anyone had questions about the position, I would be more than happy to discuss it with them privately.
It should also be remarked on that now several people of note from the college are now following me on Twitter.
My goal is to leave the position with my dignity intact. I have a lot of projects to wrap up before my contract ends on June 30 and I would like to have the opportunity to complete out those jobs. I’ve been assured while Michigan is an at-will state, the college has to have document course of action of any misdeeds done on my part, which has never happened. I’ve never even gotten a bad review.
But I am kind of excited about the unknown future. I’ll be revamping my professional site within the next few weeks and applying for positions.
And again, I want to make clear that I am writing this up to present facts as they happened and to let people know who were bombarding me with tweets, emails, texts today that I’m okay. I’ll be getting back to some of you in the next few days but I really do appreciate all of the support you’ve given me.
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2009

1. Copies have been posted all over various job search engines but I snagged a local copy.

Queen of the Pussy Posse

Dear Internet,
I came home from the work ‘do today to find my blog has been quietly exploding across the library-sphere due to a mention and a link back from a professional online publication to my ALA code of conduct round up post. Again. Coupled with popularity of the ripped open belly of my psyche posts, this instant love feels a bit strange.
It’s hard because when people praise, compliment, or are effusive towards me for I get WEIRD. I want you to recognize my brilliance, but please, let us not speak about it publicly. Think of the children.
Don’t you worry though, I do plan on owning the title of Queen of the Pussy Posse but right now I’m just kind of warming up to the title.
The work ‘do was rather good! I tweeted from my professional Twitter account to be engaging with my colleagues. Our poster session went over pretty well and lots of snaps were taken while I was demoing some of our goods and services. It was after the poster session was over my color combination was not particularly a good choice for photography — I was wearing a purple skirt with dark purple polka dots, dark green tights, and a similar color to the tights shirt and a light grey cardigan. Plus I’m currently a redhead, which always throws off my make-up and color choices when I quickly switch back and forth between dark, dark hair and red, red hair.
It has been nearly two weeks without caffeine and the weirdest thing is how balanced I am beginning to feel. I keep telling TheHusband I went off of caffeine, and soon I’ll be limiting refined sugar, to help with the bipolar. The strange effect is going off of caffeine has helped my ADHD. A lot. Like noticeably a lot. Which is downright strange since all almost all ADHD drugs are stimulants.
I’m able to put together tasks and complete them in a reasonable amount of time that I had not seen since the early days of when I was taking the drugs. A week after being caffeine free, I would wake up on my own accord, create a list of things I must do for the day and do them in order. The tasks were completed. I did not leave things unfinished or undone. Physical tasks are one thing, but digital tasks I’m still kind of all over the place on. This post was started five hours before it was finished because I kept skipping around reading my RSS feeds, stalking social media, checking email, talking to friends on gChat, and so forth. Even though I’m still digitally all over the place, in comparison to where I was before, I’m loads better.
Additionally, I’m not only sleeping really well, but when I get up, I get up on the first ring of the alarm. No more 45 minute snoozes or feeling fuzzy brained or dragging my ass around in the morning. I realize my medicating doctor refers to me as a peculiar case, but I had not thought the reverse prescription for my ailments would possibly end up to be true: take me off all stimulants, the number one antidote for ADHD, and my ADHD becomes asymptomatic.
First day back to work is a perfect example. I set the alarm at 6 for I knew I had to wash my hair and shave my legs, which can take me longer than usual for I often like to dawdle in the shower. I gave myself a soft time to get in the car at 7:15 to start warming it up to leave at 7:30 to make the 5 mile drive to the event space to be there by 8. The event actually started at 830, but we had 30 minutes for socializing and breakfast before hand. I wanted to give myself a wide berth of time due to weather and roads and Lisa.
The alarm went off at 6. I was out of bed at 6:04. By the time I ate a banana, drank some coffee, checked work email (wanted to make sure the event was still happening due to recent weather trials), showered (I always set an egg timer for 10 minutes on work days when I shower or else I will never get the fuck out), shaved, dressed, blew dry and did my hair, make-up and etc, I actually did not get into my car until 7:34. I gave it 10 minutes to warm it up and even by running late, I made it to the event space at 8:05. Roads were much cleaner than anticipated and traffic was still fairly light. Having a soft and hard leave time helped me control my time management and I pulled it off fairly well.
My impulses are getting better. After the work ‘do was over, I was out running errands with the last errand dropping off a script at the pharmacy. While there, I trolled the make-up aisle, as you do, for I wanted to get some lipsticks or nail polishes in Pantone’s color of the year. Before I would have bought up everything that I could find remotely related to the color on the spot, but this time after a few crawls up and down the aisle I realized that since I was coming back the following day, I didn’t need to buy anything this second, which would give me time to go home and search for reviews online. I paid for what I did have in hand and left.
Genius.
xoxo,
Lisa
P.S. Let it be said that by me now that public confessions of the soul tend to warrant others to confess privately to me. I am totally okay with that. I think I’ve made it pretty clear that any confidences given to me remain confidential. Additionally, please understand that sometimes pulling at the scabs can take a few days to reorder myself to be human again. If I don’t respond right away, I will get to you. I promise.

This day in Lisa-Universe:

That roams around the world

Ophanim, 13thC via Bavarian State Library

Dear Internet,
It’s late in the evening, ticking towards midnight [now significantly past midnight, thanks mania!], and we’ve been sloths all day. Not too surprising, with the current weather we’ve been having, leaving the house would be borderline stupidity. To be fair, TheHusband and I were at the gym on Saturday, coupled with an hour spent shoveling this morning from the first part of the snows, we feel like we’ve got our exercise in for the weekend. But also to be fair, my own silliness for not taking any kind of drug before gym tripped my arthritis up and while the pain has been moderate, it’s still annoying and it has meant I’ve been spending a lot of time with my leg up rather than being active.
Monday has been called a snow day across the midwest as the snows have started to come down, including MPOW, which makes me slightly sad as I’m naturally off so I can’t claim a snow day in jubilation. My nearly four week holiday comes to an end on Wednesday and I’m both slightly delighted and slightly not. I watched a lot of telly, read a few books, wrote a lot here, and did a lot of research for my book. My MIL was in town for a week, we stayed in on New Years, my dragon tattoo fill started, and I wore a lot of sports bras. Not a bad staycation overall.
But.
I need structure. If there is anything this vacation has finally drilled in my head, I thrive in structure. When we were getting up in the mornings early, setting our rhythms for the day, I found I was more productive than when left to my own devices. As much as my inner bad girl grits her teeth while admitting this, sometimes chaos is not always the best answer.
Monday, I will start prepping to get back into work mode. My brain has been in hibernation for the last month, so it’s time to take off the sports bras, yoga pants, loose t-shirts and get things back in order. To get this in the right frame of mind, I cleaned out my personal inbox today so if you are wondering where the email I owe you is, you should get it in the next day or so. If we talked about doing projects together, I’ll start getting in the groove for those as well. Monday, I’m also planning on sorting mail, finishing up bills, and maybe taking down the Christmas tree.
While we were absolute sloths during our staycation, we did join the local Y the day after Christmas (via online of course). As it turns out my brother and his girlfriend, my tattoo artist and his wife, my friend Liz and her husband also joined within the same week. It’s time to walk, yoga, and swim. Saturday, during the break of the snows, TheHusband and I scrimmaged playing basketball, where I was not as bad as I thought. We kept getting run over by little kids playing soccer, all wearing European team gear, with one of their parents yelling drill instructions in Italian, which were often punctured by our “goddammits” when we missed shots.
I played basketball all through primary school (but not secondary) and some of the old drills came back to my hands as if I was 12 all over again, not nearly 42. I hate watching the game, but apparently I can get into playing it without a second thought. I give no fucks about NBA, March Madness, or Top 10 or anything basketball related.
In the guilt department, the damned post about being fit has been sitting in my drafts folder since December 2012. I am promising myself this is not going to be another year in which it gathers dust, but talking about being crazy is far easier than talking about being fat because you can’t judge crazy by looks alone.
Speaking of crazy, I’ve been caffeine free since January 1. I have been reading some personal anecdotes as well as studies about the effect of caffeine on bipolar and decided to create a one person sample study – me. On one (and many) of my drugs I was on in 2013 for my ADHD, caffeine was off the table since it amped up the effects of the drugs, which are stimulants, for me. Again, a lovely side effect that affected no one else I knew had. I know many ADHD sufferers who self-medicate with caffeine sans the drugs, but I was finding that maybe that is not working for me since caffeine feeds into my mania. I was already cutting caffeine out of my diet after 12PM, and had been for ages, coupled with my caffeine free existence in 2013 for a bit, maybe it was worth a go to see what would happen.
Not surprisingly, I have felt a lot more stable in the last few days then I had in the last month, and my brain has been less foggy. My ADHD has been getting symptomatic. Crazy or unfocused — oh how shall I ever choose?
It’s now significantly past the witching hour and I need to get to bed. Or pretend to. Or something.
[The internal network went down while I was writing this so I missed my midnight deadline, so I’m backtracking this to 23:59.]
x0x0,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2013, 2013, 2013, 2013

Sick of Shadows

happynewyearedwardianpostcard
Dear Internet,
The crazy has been hitting me pretty hard for the last few days — well the better part of the week, which for me means lots of mania which rolls over into having a constant headache that I cannot shake. I’ve taken 1/2 a Klonopin this morning when I woke in the hopes it would quiet down some of the noise, but it feels like it has barely made a dent. I will more than likely take another 1/2 dose when I’m done writing this and a full dose before bed.
We kicked off the New Year by Wednesday having a pooping accident on our bedroom floor which she proceeded to then fell in to, which led to us giving her a bath and the obligatory anal gland squeeze, which was followed with her pooping more in the utility sink.
We sure know how to party.
TheHusband has been working with TheMIL on her oral history today, which has freed me up to do writing but with my brain spinning a million miles an hour, I’m finding I cannot concentrate more than a few things at a time. At best I’ve done is finish up my Book List of 2013, start the 2014 page and kind of putz around my office. The day is still relatively young but I am not feeling much to do anything at the moment.
The weather has been awfully frightful and currently sits at 10F/-12C with dipping down to 2F/-17C this evening with the never ending parade of snow. Even with several layers on, I’m constantly freezing. I’ve been chugging hot tea like there is no tomorrow to keep my innards warmed, but it doesn’t seem to be helping.
Tonight kicked the beginning of season 3 of Sherlock in the UK, which has Twitter enflamed. Several people asked nicely to not spoil it, so I won’t. Instead I’ll give you the teaser that was released for Christmas from BBC on Sherlock’s return.

xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2013, 2012, 2003