WTFery Posts

Now that my Bipolar disorder is medicinally under control it is a great time to work on my skill sets to deal with everyday life. Medicine can only do so much, in my case I am emotionally on an even keel, however the storms of my mind are still raging. The medicine cannot change my ways of thinking, I still have negative thoughts running through my head, still have the same self esteem issues, still lack organization and structure in my life to effectively balance work and home life. So I have a laundry list of things I want to do and yet my mind works against me in accomplishing any tasks.

Currently I am working my way through 2 books in an attempt to get my mind working right. The first book is Why Am I Still Depressed by Jim Phelps, MD and the second is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy by Lawrence Wallace. The first book is giving me a deeper understanding of the brain disorder from which I suffer, while the second book I am using as a self help guide to start getting my ways of thinking turned around. Now I know ideally CBT should be done through a good therapist however living in a country without universal healthcare one must muddle along the best one can while balancing health with copay’s and deductibles. I still have a stack of medical bills to pay due to a high deductible insurance plan, so, I have to just make the tough decisions on where my money goes.

I know going into this that there is a high risk of failure doing it on my own, but the alternative is to do nothing and attempt to maintain the untenable status quo. Therefore I have nothing to lose in being my own therapist for awhile. If you would like to learn more about bipolar disorder NIMH has a good overview here.

“We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make the world” Buddha

A universal truth that we can all apply to our lives no matter our religious beliefs. If as a Christian we truly spend our time daily in prayer, meditation, and reading of scripture our thoughts will dwell on God and we will change our perspective. My personal recommendation is to pray the Lord’s Prayer, meditate on the 23rd Psalm, and reading of Matthew Chapter 5. Most assuredly a month spent in this manner daily will have profound changes on how your thoughts are ordered, this combined with honest self reflection can have a positive impact on how you think.

It has been over a year since I did this last, starting again today as I need a reset in how I am thinking.

Being even keeled emotionally because your medicine is working is a double edged sword. On the one hand I am not depressed, things upset me and I have a small flare of anger but nothing out of control, I may smile for a minute when i feel happy. Unfortunately I can only describe how I feel right now as being comfortably numb.In the sense that I am calm almost all day, evenings I am a bit more emotional but not too much. The upside is that despite all of the stress I am under currently, I am not on a roller coaster which I have been in the past. The downside is that I all most seem to lack emotion, unphased one way or the other which can be frustrating. I think there is no happy medium but the alternative of being unmedicated and “out of control” is just too dangerous.

The deck at my Mom’s house had fallen into disrepair so I replaced it this past weekend. One section is 24’x4′ the other section is 8’x7′. Took Saturday and Sunday to complete.

Empty dreams, spilling from
 A tattered mind, alone.
 Callous and cold the world
 Etching notches in my soul. 

 Empty dreams, spilling from
 A battered soul, alone.
 Toneless and droll my voice
 Braying harshly in my mind.
  
 Empty dreams spilling from
 A ragged body, alone.
 Broken and bruised, abused
 Hard work and middle age. 

Segue

As day segues into night. As the conversation between mother and daughter segues from television into when her dad gets out of jail. As childhood segues into adulthood.

I am a bit bored at the moment, at Emergency Room with my Mom and the wait just drags on and on. The slow progression of time is never felt more acutely as when each second segues slowly to another as the waiting room fills and the clock on the wall seems to be stuck, then it runs backwards for awhile before creeping back forward. The slow dance of medical emergencies in a room full of interesting characters. Seeing someone need a cigarette so bad they hobble out to the street on the leg where they have been stabbed.

Waiting, as one drama after another unfolds as more people trickle in through the door. tick-tock, tic-tock

I want to write the perfect poem,

Laureate material to make my bones.

Dreams bigger than empty tomes,

Blood pounding, soul groans.

I want to write the perfect poem,

Transcending the limit of my soul.

Making my mark upon the world,

Spouting words that make you whole.

I want to write the perfect poem

Capturing your heart and soul.

See me through my words

An addict for your praise and love.

I want to write the perfect poem

Symmetry and rhythm, perfect form.

Laureate material to make my bones,

Fulfilling desires, unmetered I roam.

Such precious and fragile things, tied to our souls with gossamer threads, so easily cut and set adrift into the darkness. My heart aches somedays from the loss, peering out into the darkness, desperate for a glimmer, hoping to grasp at a straw, a reminder of how I came to be who I am today.

I have the worst case of writers block. Every thought i try to focus on is like waking up from a deep sleep and trying to remember the wonderful dream you were having, all you have left is the impression of the dream. Unfortunately no matter what you do it is gone beyond your grasp. My waking thoughts lately are just as elusive, they come upon me when I cannot capture them and flee from my grasp once I I try to commit them to the page.

And I want to Paint it Black. The essence of so much depressive angst captured in a timeless song. Sad part is I did not understand the significance of painting a red door black until a few years ago. For some the red door signified welcoming and refuge, by painting it black you were turning away from welcoming. I have always loved the song because it spoke to how my soul felt, a place of desolation and pain. Even with my new medicines I feel the undercurrent of those desolate feelings, almost like a rip tide tugging at my ankles ready to pull me back into depression. The medicine is no more than a band-aid some days and a very weak one at that.

Sometimes I think my real voice is lost in that current, too much self inflicted pain fueled by self doubts and circumstances of life leave me afraid to try to express myself. The words all feel so dark and I want to unburden my soul I just do not know how or want to just be perceived as a pessimist.