Take Away My Difficulties

Friday: Good morning, dear reader(s), I come to you after an unsettling, dream-filled sleep, replete with Bono and me trying to fend off robbers who stole my jewelry. I’m sitting here, slightly shaken, and tried to listen to classical music but all that did was remind me of Legs, so I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to listen to classical again. I thought everything was OK with me, I had a very nice dinner out with mom last night—why have I taken a slight slip into depression? Is it this crazy weather we are having this month, or did I just eat something strange last night? Do I blame the “corn poppers”?

I’m pissed because I was feeling all grounded yesterday morning, and had a highly productive session with Fetter, where I brought “Ode to Andi” and “Rise of the Marketers” and we had an excellent discussion about my artwork, and he was most encouraging of me going ahead and having my art show next month. I left in a very good mood, but now here I sit anxious and mildly depressed. Guess I’ll pop extra Gabapentin and see where that takes me.

***

OK, it’s early afternoon now, I’ve got a slight toe-hold, the anxiety is at bay at least for the time-being. Something tells me we’ve got to do an adjustment to my Gabapentin dose, not sure my prescribed instructions are working anymore. I’m curious if my dieting has anything to do with this, now that Covid has moved through me? Probably. Oh, I cannot catch a break—but wait, let’s not slip into self-pity. Maybe I’m just having an out of sorts kinda day. Those happen, remember? Why do I expect every day to be “normal,” stress-free, picture perfect? It’s ridiculous to think such a thing.

***

It’s Saturday morning now and I am feeling 100% better. I slept well, no nightmares I can recall, got up at 7:30 a.m. ready to start my day. Michael said eating out can sometimes cause bad dreams, I think that may have been the case two nights ago. I took an extra 400 mg Gabapentin this morning just to be safe—probably didn’t need it, but I wanted the extra coverage just in case. Anyways, I feel relaxed and all is well (for the time being).

I’m making bacon and eggs for brunch, and we are having grilled steaks and zucchini with a baked potato for dinner. My creative writing circle meets at 1:00 p.m. today on Zoom. I submitted my piece on Michael’s hair to the group on Google Classroom. I hope they like it, it definitely needs some work, but it’s a good start on me understanding why Michael has chosen to grow his locks so long. For such a long time, I’ve been harassing him about it, and now I just want to let go of trying to orchestrate outcomes and accept him for who he is.

Sponsor Shawn is always telling me to challenge Michael, but that’s just not what I’m comfortable doing. I don’t know if it’s my ACOA fear of conflict, or something hatched out of my shame at being bipolar, but I don’t want the tension of fighting with my husband, particularly where his appearance is concerned. I think by writing about his hair, interviewing him about it, I got a deeper understanding why he likes it so much, and I can now appreciate what it means to him. This is important!

I have now made a commitment to the art show on May 20: our house will be included on a map given out by the German Village Society on Village Valuables Day. I described my stuff as “Outsider Art,” (which can be loosely translated as Art of the Insane, among other things.) I chuckled to myself when I submitted this to the GVS and I wonder if they are familiar with this art movement. Oh, who cares, hopefully this will bring some foot traffic to our place and Michael can have fun bartering with folks who might want to buy something. I’ll be serving butter cookies and lemonade (hee, hee).

I hope I have enough artwork to show; I have to really dig through the attic, and pick through things in the scary basement, plus try, try, try to get “Genesis” and “My Mother, Myself” completed. I’m going to push myself to get organized this upcoming week. Monday is May 1st. Time is of the essence! Deep down I find this whole exercise deeply satisfying, and it doesn’t really matter if people like or understand my stuff. What’s important is I’m putting it out there. 

OK dear reader(s), I leave you now, I’m off to the kitchen. Have a wonderful weekend. 

Writing Prompt #2: Hair: Grow It, Show It!

 Prompt: Pick a person, place or thing and write about it.

Hair: Grow It, Show It! (DRAFT)

“You could write a novel about my hair,” my husband Michael says, when I tell him I want to write about his hair. I laugh. 

Michael, always a renegade, has his own “sober style” he seems eager to have others see. Hatched out of the Covid pandemic in 2020, he decided he would no longer go to the barber—“It’s not safe,” he told me, and he clings to this reasoning three years later, post-pandemic, like a newly minted alcoholic in recovery might fear going to a bar (which he now avoids too). 

So today, 58 year-old Michael has amassed very long, wavy, often wild, silvery-gray Irish locks, that I observe are twice as long as my own. Is this some modern-day role reversal of the sexes, I often muse, and then vacillate from threatening him to cut it all off or I will, to throwing my hands up and letting out a big sigh. 

Why does Michael grow his hair, what does it mean, is his hair used to rebel, to attract or dispel, or is it just something to twirl (as he does) as a means to control nervousness or anxiety? Is there some deep thing going on here? Samson and Delilah anyone? I thought I better ask.

“It wasn’t any great, ideological thing,” he tells me, when I ask him why he has grown out his hair. “I just wanted to try something new. It wasn’t a huge philosophical choice,” he continues. “Not cutting it is one less thing you have to worry about.”

I decide to dig deeper. He adds that having his scalp feel normal is a plus. “My scalp prefers to have long hair. It isn’t as dry, so there’s this natural, practical part,” he says.

And honestly? He just started enjoying how it looked.

“It’s also freedom, man” he laughs. “You know, like how motorcyclists feel about their bikes.” I smile. “I’m totally free. One hundred percent natural. Honestly, at first you notice it, and then you just start enjoying it.” 

Then there’s the other people that notice his hair and comment. “I had someone at a hockey game say, ‘That’s some crazy ass wild hair,’ ” Michael says. “So you’re definitely not going to be not noticed.”  Women have come up to him in Walmart, telling him to keep growing it. “I think they act like it’s seeing Jesus,” Michael explains. “They tell me not to cut it.”

As his hair has grown (it’s now past his shoulders), he has gone through different style phases. There was the pony tail phase, the head band phase, and now Michael is sporting braids. I ask him why he likes the braids so much, and he points to his fascination with historical French duelists with side braids and American Indians wrapping their braids around leather straps.

 ”It looks other-worldly,” he points out. “And there’s all these historical time periods where cutting the hair wasn’t even an option,” he adds, and that intrigues him. Michael says his current look of two French braids, one down each side of his head is just the “first level.” In the era of the French duelists, he tells me, they had a small braid down each side and a ponytail. Something for him to try next?

Finally, he tells me about something he coins the “Brotherhood of the Hair.” I perk up. What, pray tell, is this? 

“Men sporting long hair is not very common,” he explains. At least not what he sees. “I don’t look for it, but you can’t help but notice it when you see men’s long hair because over 95% of dudes have the short hair cuts.” He then tells me about an encounter he had with a long-haired roof worker down the street who he met when he was out walking the dog.

“Nice salad,” the roofer yelled down to Michael. “You’ve got some really nice lettuce.” Erm, salad? I ask. “Oh, that’s slang for long hair,” Michael replies. I could tell he really appreciated the roofer’s compliment. And then there are the ice hockey guys he watches, many famous for their long hair styles. It’s a rallying point, of sorts. “You see these young guys having fun with their hair and you think, Why the hell not?” Michael says. He wants to join in on the good time.

So will he ever go back to a barber again? “I think about getting some color to cover my gray,” he says. Hmm. I tell him his silver is very distinguished. I’m not sure he buys that, but something tells me the Brotherhood would agree with me. Or maybe not—could be the younger guys would root for Michael dying his hair blue. Shhh, don’t tell him. I’m not ready for that yet!

Lessons

 Well good morning dear reader(s), I come to you after another marathon sleep and I feel groggy again. Why I don’t cut back the Simply Sleep I don’t know, except to say I like the escape it gives me from the anxiety and stress I feel from everyday life. Am I addicted to the stuff, probably, or maybe I just got fed up with waking up at 3:00 a.m. in the morning. Oh what to do, except pop a pill and crawl under the covers and sleep some more.

So yesterday got interesting after I posted here. I made the mistake of going upstairs and getting on the scale—saw that I had gained 2 lbs. in a day (which seemed absolutely impossible given the small amount of food I’ve been eating). Now I know that I’m not supposed to be weighing every day, rather once a week to keep my anxiety in check. Off I went to therapy, where I was all out of sorts, talking about Michael and the house, everything but the weight gain, and it was not until I got to mom on the phone afterwards and burst into tears about the weight gain that I was able to relax and get a grip back.

And so we have the power of the scale over me, and how I get into trouble with it. I don’t quite know how I’m to lose weight without monitoring my progress on the scale, it’s kinda necessary, I think, plus I like seeing the number go down. But it ushers in such anxiety and swings in mood that aren’t good for me. So I have to really, really be careful going forward. I have to battle back my curiosity with the number, and exercise patience. Hard stuff, to be sure. Mom is going to help me stay on track with the weekly weigh-ins, and I can talk to her if the curiosity gets to be too much. I think I’ve got this (fingers crossed).

I also had a very strange experience last night. I went to a small AA Meditation Meeting Zoom, and we did a recorded guided meditation (my first time with one) and I felt something close to an out of body experience. I suggested the group talk about compassion for others and ourselves, and it was a very good discussion that followed. When I came downstairs to join Michael afterwards, I promptly fell asleep in my recliner. Interesting. I am enjoying these meditation Zooms and I think I will do more of them. 

The other lesson I put into play yesterday was letting go. I gave Michael a list of three things I require in 2023:

1. Chimney repair

2. House trim painted

3. New car

Now I’m letting go of it, it’s in his hands. I’m not going to continually harp on this list, I’m turning it over. And I feel better when I do this, even though I don’t know what the outcome of my requests will be. Acceptance is the key, I know this, let my Higher Power sort things out.

Finally, I have some beauty treatments planned for this afternoon, going to the salon for some eyebrow waxing. Nice thing to keep the face tidy, I’m grateful for the funds to do so. Then home to bathe and walk Lily and prepare a Creamy Mushroom Pasta with roasted broccoli for dinner. Just keeping things simple, that works best for me. 

OK, happy Friday all. Hope things are going well for you in your corner of the world. If not, keep the faith things can and do get better. Ciao.

Flashbacks

 I’d like to take some time to discuss flashbacks, which have been plaguing me as of late and cause considerable anxiety, necessitating extra Gabapentin to get my grip back. What happens is either when I am in bed trying to fall asleep, or when I wake up in the morning and just starting my day I get hit sometimes with a flashback to a disturbing moment in psychosis when I felt extremely unsafe. I am temporarily taken right back to that moment, and I feel the trauma all over again. I have given some thought as to whether I need to pursue EMDR or some other type of intensive treatment to treat trauma; but I have always held off. 

My flashbacks don’t happen every day—more like once every few months. But it’s unsettling when it happens. I see Fetter today and I think I will discuss it, and maybe talk about psychosis in general. I wonder if I will ever be completely free of psychosis happening again, or whether I might be able to take less of this antipsychotic Risperdal I am currently on. At times I seriously doubt Dr. Levy will reduce the 4 mg dosage, especially given the incident in October when I had a full on fear phobia prolonged anxiety attack (or whatever it was). Honestly, I’m too tired to push him for any med tweaking right now, and frankly I’m scared of going back to the nut hut again.

Yawn, I’m having trouble waking up, it’s been this way ever since I got Covid more than three weeks ago. I’m not testing positive anymore yet I still feel extremely tired in the morning. It’s hard for me to write right now, making me wonder if I need to adjust my morning writing routine? The words used to flow so easily before—is this some sort of extended “brain fog” I’m going through right now? Probably. I feel muddled and tarry. Yuck.

Just talked with mom and she’s tired too. Could it be we both are taking too much Simply Sleep at night and feel groggy in the morning? Oh, I wish I knew what was going on, but maybe I just let go of trying to understand and just let things unfold this morning as they will. I’m planning to take a shower soon, that will wake me up for sure. OK, this is enough writing for today. Hopefully my creative juices will be flowing more easily in the days and weeks to come.

A Doctor’s Opinion

 Well good morning, dear reader(s), we are off to a chilly start here in my corner of the world. April in Ohio brings rollercoaster weather, cold one day, warm the next, it’s no wonder the flowers get confused and we don’t plant our annuals until mid-May. I’m planning a sweet potato lentil soup for dinner tonight, something to warm us up until temperatures increase later this week.

I had my monthly appointment with Dr. Levy yesterday, and I was sure to ask him about the correlation between my breakthrough anxiety attacks with this recent bout of Covid I went through. He said research has shown that whenever mental health patients go through respiratory infections—be it Covid or bronchitis or etc.—it can lead to increased anxiety or even depression. He assured me this resolves itself once the infection passes, so that gave me some relief. I am to continue adding an extra 400 mg of Gabapentin whenever I have one of these attacks in the future, and it’s nice knowing I have an ample supply on hand to help me through difficult times.

I must say I have noticed that ever since Covid, this “extra perception” I’ve been going through for the past 4 months has definitely eased off considerably. I’m not blaring YouTube and Q-FM 96 anymore, I’ve stopped working on my art (something I miss), I’m not talking to myself in the car, just all these things I had been doing don’t seem to interest me anymore. It makes me wonder if Covid ushered in a readjustment of reality for me—maybe facilitated my recovery trajectory from the October incident? I don’t know if such a thing is even possible…I’m just saying that I now feel more “normal” (or at least like I think a sanish person feels on a regular day). I guess I will see if this feeling lasts or changes in the weeks and months to come.

After speaking to Dr. Levy, I went out to visit mom for a bit, then headed over to see Nicole at her hair salon to have my hair highlighted and trimmed. I’m now sporting a lot of blonde, ready for summer I guess. Got home a little late to prepare dinner, so we had a frozen pizza instead. Then I had my Monday night AA Zoom with Shawn’s sponsees, which is always interesting. We discussed patience and changing people, places and things to protect your sobriety. I relayed my cautionary tale of what happened when I embarked on the Marijuana Maintenance Plan, and saw myself hospitalized not once, not three times, but nine times until I finally surrendered and gave up all substances. I hope my message reached some of the younger members of our group, and might save them from a relapse-ridden life like me.

Michael is headed out today to meet with our accountant, it’s Tax Day, and I am meeting Shawn at Starbucks for my weekly check-in and dose of spirituality. I’m taking Lily on a walk beforehand, see if the streets and alleys have any treasures for me to discover. I’m not sure if my artistic window has closed again—that happens—but I know from my writing if I just keep practicing at it, I can and do succeed. 

Here’s hoping my anxiety remains at bay, my creative “spark” stays alive, and perhaps my wonderment with my surroundings continues. Gotta keep myself entertained. Everyone needs a laugh every now and then! From my corner of the world to yours—have a nice day.

Writing Prompt #1: Pink Flamingos

 Prompt: Flamingos aren’t naturally pink; they’re born a sort of grayish color. It’s their diet of brine shrimp and algae that turns them pink.

The Missing Pink Flamingo (DRAFT)

Welcome to my world in April 2023: I live in an old, historic neighborhood out here in Columbus, Ohio. Filled with Honeymoon cottages, townhomes, and brick lined streets and intriguing alleys, “German Village” is a big draw for tourists year round. My house sits on the corner of Purdy Alley and Columbus Street, a brick “Tennessee Williams” kind of place. The green trim paint is peeling and needs to be touched up, and maybe my husband should pull down the ivy that has snaked all over the backside of the house. It’s a house of character to be sure, and my husband proudly displays outside all the items he has found when out on his walks: lost sunglasses, Matchbox cars and other children’s toys, a Cadillac hubcap, he even brought home a Vespa rear view mirror one day.

I love to troll the alleys around here. Houses and garages line them, and they are interesting places with a character all their own. With my trusty, plump, Basset Hound Lily guiding the way, we weave our way down the back streets looking for adventure; maybe an interesting conversation with an old German resident who speaks broken English or perhaps we might locate something interesting on the ground that I can use in an artistic collage. 

I started collecting things I find in the alley about 5 months ago when my husband asked me to create a piece of art for him for Christmas. Bits of trash, perhaps left by the trash truck, some crushed cans discarded, pieces of metal, bottle caps, just random things I come across during my walks. The trash tells a story all of its own, and I have been assembling collages for awhile now. I stick to three alleys here for my pickings: Purdy Alley, Macon Alley and Alexander Alley, and I know the houses and route by heart. Just call me a creature of habit.

Right down Purdy Alley from our place there lived a guy and his mutt, who used to have a plastic pink flamingo in his front rock garden. I absolutely loved that thing, it brought such flair and panache to the area. He may have had red chili pepper lights strung along his patio too, but I’m a little fuzzy on that detail (thank you middle age). I walked past this flamingo many times, and it was a beacon of sorts along my path. 

But the flamingo wasn’t there long—just one day it was gone, vanished, and I wondered: Did someone steal it? Did the owner suddenly move away and take the flamingo with him? I leaned towards the former idea, that someone nicked it, I mean aren’t these plastic pink flamingos ripe for the taking by some drunken passerby, wandering down the alley in the dead of night? Yup. Oh pink flamingo, you are so whimsical and entertaining, yet so vulnerable to theft! 

We have had a few things stolen from our yard over the years: a bike, my Dad’s old stereo I inherited when he died, some tools from our shed. Like any pricey neighborhood, this area attracts thieves, those “porch pirates” stealing Amazon packages being the latest nuisance to crop up since the Covid pandemic hit in 2020. And then there are those characters who creep in during the 3:00 a.m. hour and saw catalytic converters off of cars—we lost ours last summer, and boy was my husband pissed when he discovered it. No use filing a police report, the cops are too busy tracking down serious offenders.

But random crime aside, German Village is a delightful place to call home. I met my husband here down at the old Cup ‘O Joe coffeehouse almost 25 years ago. We’ve both been residing here for a very long time, and cannot imagine living anywhere else in Columbus. Together we’ve raised four Basset Hounds, a breed we adore, but much to some neighbors’ chagrin given the howling hounds are known for, which can definitely at times disturb the peace.

I’m thinking about plastic pink flamingos today, and now I really want to have one in my rock garden. I wonder where I might find one. Amazon? Probably. I think it would fit right in with all the odd collectibles here on display at the house. I just checked Amazon and I can get two small flamingos for $9.99, seems like a good price. Do I pull the trigger and order them? Perhaps I should ask my husband first. Add it to my list of things to do for the summer. A list that is getting long. Remember to practice patience, Melissa, like we discussed in our AA meeting tonight. Oh pink flamingo, are you just a passing fancy? Or are you looking for a new place to call home? 

All in good time. Good things come to those who wait.

A New Writers’ Group

 Well hello there dear reader(s), I’m excited to report that I’ve joined a new writers’ circle with some people from sponsor Shawn’s recovery group! We will be meeting on Saturdays via Zoom initially, to discuss pieces we have written, and also to talk about the book “The Artist’s Way,” which offers a toolkit for unlocking creative energy by drawing upon spirituality. I’m truly excited by this opportunity to work with others on my creative writing—could it be that I finally can reach my goal of completing a memoir that might be published? I certainly would not have been able to write were it not for the recent reduction in my Depakote dosage, that much is true. And now I have found this new group. Wonderful!

So my initial plan is to continue with my daily musings here, and also now add in the writing exercises I will be doing. I’m not sure how it will go, if I will be writing short stories, or perhaps poetry? I guess we shall see. Just need to plunge in and start writing when I am given a prompt. Oh, the places we shall go! Maybe I can write about all my alley pickins, or the loss of Legs, or maybe some childhood experience, or maybe one of my travel adventures. I just hope what I write makes sense—or maybe it won’t, and perhaps that’s where the beauty can be found.

I’d love to write a short story about a trip to Kroger…do it with humor and all the wonderment I can muster. Mom said work on detaching myself from my bipolar disorder, but that’s kinda hard for me to do. I’m so wrapped up in it, I allow the diagnosis to define me completely. Maybe this new writing group can help me detach a bit? I’d like that. 

So my loose plan for today is prepare banana pancakes and fruit for brunch, get dressed and then settle in for some writing this afternoon. I’m making chili for dinner, then I have my Sunday night AA Zoom. It’s still too early to buy flowers for our patio, so I won’t be outside working today. I need to work on the last two pieces for the art show, time is running out. There’s lots to do…don’t forget all the laundry piling up! No rest for the wicked, and all that.

I’m feeling very grounded today, I’ve been getting lots of sleep, no nightmares plaguing me and startling me awake. Knock on wood this calm state of affairs continues. Had some bristling earlier this morning when mom brought up national politics, but successfully ended the conversation before I got too upset and anxious. The music on Pandora is tugging on my heartstrings…note to self: remember to incorporate the string I found in the alley in “My Mother, Myself.” 

OK that’s all for today’s Morning Musings. I think I finally hear Michael slowly moving around upstairs. Time to get this day started! 

Turn The Beat Around

 

Well good morning, dear reader(s), I awoke on the wrong side of the bed this morning, feeling muddled and slightly down in the dumps. But dear mom, I called her and she helped me turn my mood around, we did my Gratitude List, and I’m going to visit her this afternoon. I was depressed because I started thinking about the disabling effects of my medication—I have to be careful going down that path, because unchecked it can lead to tinkering with med dosages and getting very, very ill. Today I know without a shadow of doubt that everything hinges on med compliance and sobriety, that’s the key to the stability I have today.

I can sometimes forget the power a Gratitude List can have to readjust one’s thinking, or in my case, mood state. Compiling a brief inventory of what you are grateful for in the moment is very, very freeing and actually feels really good. I learned about the Gratitude List in AA, but one doesn’t have to be in AA to do one. Here’s mine for today:

Today I’m grateful for:

1. My sobriety

2. A roof over my head

3. My husband, mother, family and supportive friends

4. Medication compliance

5. My psychiatrist, therapist, and other doctors, plus AA sponsor Shawn

6. Beloved basset hound Lily 

7. My cooking skills

8. My art

9. Beautiful day today

10. My bad mood is gone!

***

We are going to see the final game of the Blue Jackets for the season tonight. They are playing Buffalo and everyone wants them to lose so we have a shot at getting the first pick in this year’s NHL draft. I think it’s rigged against us, however, we will never get that pick, so I’m rooting for our boys to win tonight. We defeated Pittsburg last night and I was absolutely delighted—Johnny Hockey Gaudreau got the game-winning goal in OT and it was sweet! I’m excited to be going to the Arena tonight, get my chicken fingers and maybe Michael will get us chocolate hockey pucks? What was I saying about a diet yesterday? Oh, who needs that tonight? Hee hee.

So my plan for this afternoon before the game is to shower, walk Lily, have a light lunch and go visit mom for a bit. I need to pick up the “Genesis” artwork I have at her house—I’d like to get that finished in time for the art show next month. My goal is to have “Genesis” and “My Mother, Myself” completed in time for the show. I think I have enough time, and I can work either here in the den or upstairs in the attic. With the nicer weather, Michael is outside on the porch, so I have room here downstairs if I want, which is nice. Ever since Covid, I have been feeling more “tethered” to reality, if that makes sense. Not blaring Q-FM as loudly, I doubt Broad Street will be as entertaining, oh well, guess floating back to Earth was inevitable at some point.

I’m even not playing YouTube games like I once did, kinda makes me sad, as I found those early a.m. romps entertaining. Maybe I’ll check in with YouTube before I head up to the shower. Cue up “Voices of Babylon” that’s a favorite, along with “Tell Me What’s On Your Mind.” Oh, it’s all good. Happy Friday, everyone, bring on the weekend, back here in Ohio. Just another bipolar here, saying, over and out!

To Diet Or Not To Diet

 Good morning reader(s), I’m still here, just been getting a lot of sleep and waking up at 9:00 a.m. Then it takes time for me to caffienate the cobwebs away, and the next thing I know the morning is gone and it’s time to get out for the day. I finally see Fetter in person today (hooray!) and it’s an absolutely glorious day with temps approaching 80. I feel good, calm, no real anxiety to speak of right now. The Covid crud is mostly gone, it’s Day 16 for me and I’m back to normalcy. I think it’s safe to finally cut the Simply Sleep back to 1/4 a pill, and maybe pull back on the decaf coffee after dinner. We shall see.

I got on the scale last night for the first time since around October 10th or so last year, before I completely became undone and had to go to the hospital. I was actually delighted to see I have only gained 6 lbs. since my Risperdal was increased from 1.25 mg/day to 4 mg/day, where it has remained for almost 5 months. I am going to begin watching my calories and portion sizes again, in an attempt to resume losing some weight. This time though I am going to take it slow—not drop 30 lbs. in 3 months like I did before, rather try to lose 30 lbs in 12 months, as my family doctor suggests.

I read that I need to work to incorporate complex carbohydrates, fruits and veggies, eat protein in the morning if I am to keep an eye on anxiety while dieting. I think that’s where I got into trouble in the past, I wasn’t eating the right things and my anxiety got stoked and spiraled out and I got unstable. I also think in my last rodeo with dieting I put myself into ketosis and that really screwed things up. In my opinion keto diets are absolutely awful for people with bipolar disorder, though I’m not sure if there is any research backing up this statement. It’s just from personal experience, for me, ketosis led to anxiety and ultimately the nut hut. So let’s stay away from that, shall we?

Ah diets, who likes them, do they really work, will the weight ultimately be gained back, oh who the hell knows. I just know for me, I feel a little uncomfortable with my figure, summer is coming, I want to trim down and will be wearing a bathing suit soon. I know it’s possible for me to lose weight, a significant amount actually, it’s just I have to learn how to do this safely without getting anxious. The scale is a very, very tricky thing for me, always has been. How to tame that monster I’m not sure yet.

So it’s back to a (loose) diet for me, I’ll let you know how it goes. One day at a time, the turtle wins the race. Gotta run, time to get ready for therapy. Enjoy the day!

Beautiful Day

Well rise and shine, dear reader(s), it’s a beautiful day outside, warm temperatures have come our way! Spring has definitely sprung, time to locate lighter attire, time to finally shave my legs after months of wintertime neglect. I’m meeting sponsor Shawn at Starbucks today at noon, and hope to discuss all the trouble I’ve had with Covid Anxiety, perhaps see if he knows of any AA tools I might use to manage these anxious outbursts. This morning I don’t feel anxious per say, just nervous (if that makes sense) and kinda tense. So I took some extra Gabapentin which has now kicked in and I’m feeling better.

I’m definitely wanting to get some Spring flowers for our garden, but it’s a little too early for that. So maybe I’ll re-spray paint our wicker chair that needs it, and spray paint two black urns that are showing signs of chipping. I’m digging deep to push through the dulling effects of the Risperdal to get these projects done. It’s hard, but I’m not one to give up in the face of adversity. Having disabilities caused by medication is so, so frustrating to deal with, especially when Spring comes around and cleaning is on your mind. But Michael can help, so I’m not dealing with this all alone.

I’m thinking that perhaps my nervousness this morning is that I’m getting out and meeting someone in public after 14 days of relative isolation during Covid. I mean three years ago the media subjected us to such horrendous Covid fear factor, with death toll numbers every day, frightening images of people in hospitals, dead bodies in trucks, I mean, what the hell! It’s no wonder my nervousness is flaring. Good Lord, I’m just trying to cope, get a grip, be normal (whatever that is). My, how sensitive I am, how impressionable I am, yes, I’m keeping the news at arms length nowadays.

Short entry for today, there’s much to do, people to see, dog to be walked, weather to enjoy. Keep your sunny side up! Happy cleaning all.

More Breakthrough Anxiety

 Hey reader(s), contact the researchers, I’ve just had another bout of breakthrough “Covid Anxiety” or whatever we are calling these random anxiety attacks that have been plaguing me as of late since I contracted Covid. They are happening in the morning, when I first wake up, and basically I’ve been managing them by popping an extra 400 mg Gabapentin—I think I recall correctly that Dr. Levy said I have latitude to add this extra dose of the Gabapentin if the need arises, and oh readers, it has! I am just hit with this feeling of not feeling safe, and my thoughts spiral out and I don’t reach hysteria but I’m extremely uncomfortable. But if I take this extra Gabapentin, in time I calm down and get my “toe hold” (if that makes any sense).

Now, what I am wondering is if there has been any research to date as to whether this Covid Anxiety (as I am calling it) does indeed exist, and what doctors and psychiatrists are doing about it. My appointment with Dr. Levy is not until next week, so I will have to wait to discuss it with him. But the fact is I have not had breakthrough anxiety attacks for the past four months—my Risperdal dosage is effectively managing my anxiety, at least it was until I got Covid. So in my opinion, Covid Anxiety is a very real monster and I’m dealing with it as we speak. I wonder what Fetter thinks about it. I will be seeing him in person (finally!) this Thursday so I will be able to ask him about it.

What exactly is my anxiety about? Well, if differs, this morning it was about the house, and catastrophic thinking, and wanting to control Michael, definitely I was far, far away from my AA program of letting go and letting God take care of orchestrating outcomes. I have contacted sponsor Shawn and we are meeting tomorrow at Starbucks to resume discussion and I will ask him for assistance in turning things over. It’s strange, I seriously wonder if you can rely on AA teachings to help you through an anxiety disorder, I’m not sure that’s workable, though the program clearly states that those with emotional difficulties can and do recover simply if they have the capacity to be honest, which I do.

So I’m sitting here and my anxiety has abated, for the time being, I feel grounded and “The Magic Flute” is playing on the stereo. I love some Mozart in the morning, he’s really my go-to composer when I’m feeling squirrely. It’s gorgeous out today, I will probably get some tea at Starbucks and take Lily on an alley troll, though pickins are slim as of late. I’m curious when I will cease on my alley adventures, is it all a strange phase I’m going through, or will the art production continue? I know from my entries here in 2014 that after an episode/incident, a “click” happens, I kinda wake up one day and I feel readjusted to the world. Is that going to happen, or am I already “adjusted” and in reality here in the now? Ah, questions, I have a lot of them. Such is the fate of someone with a mood disorder.

OK, I’m off to make egg salad for lunch, and get dressed and proceed with my day. Just another Monday, gratefully not a manic one. Yours in perpetual wonder. Ciao.

Happy Easter!

Well hello there dear reader(s), Happy Easter to you, Christ the Lord has risen today. After getting over a sneezing fit this morning, I feel refreshed and ready to watch the St. Joseph’s Cathedral Easter service on TV at 10:30 a.m. No, I’m not Catholic but I do love that church. I’m listening to Handel’s “Messiah” right now (is this for Christmas or Easter? Oh, who cares!) and it’s lovely. I just put another shot of Flonase up my nose—does this stuff really work, I’m not sure. I still have some congestion, and my eyes are watering here on Day 12 of Covid and it’s driving me nuts. I wish it would just clear up, but mom told me it took about 3 weeks for her congestion to finally go away. Great.

Well the family gathering yesterday went very well. We stayed for 4 hours, ate a lot of food, Michael got his hair braided, great niece Parker did an entertaining skit, the kids got a jelly bean trail and Easter baskets filled with presents and chocolate. There was no golf to watch on TV as the Master’s Tournament got rained out for the day. I ate so much I barely had an appetite for dinner, necessitating Michael make a run to Kroger for a frozen pizza which he got for $5.99. I’m not planning my usual ham dinner tonight, too tired for all that. I’m just going to cook some steaks and heat the cheesy tomato rice leftovers up and boil some green beans. Easy does it today, I’m still recovering.

I still feel a tad muddled, writing is not as easy, which frustrates me. I want to be done with this Covid crap, I’ve had enough of it. I guess I should get dressed, maybe make a run to Starbucks for some passion tea, then do the afternoon shift for Lily’s walk. I’m not feeling particularly motivated though, argh, is the Risperdal rearing it’s ugly head again, or is this the Covid making me feel lethargic and lazy? Maybe I might work on “My Mother, Myself” today, that could be interesting…I left some intriguing things up in the third floor on my work table when I was last doing art, scraps of paper containing ramblings and mathematical calculations? What was that about? Sheesh. Glad I’m a little more centered and focused this time around.

They’ve announced the community yard sale is May 20th this year. So I’ve got about five weeks to finish assembling anything new I want to present for my art show. I’m vacillating between showing nothing versus hauling out everything I can possibly locate here onto the porch and in the yard and just letting people wander around here. I guess I’m shy and worried people will think me extremely odd, but hey, does it really matter? I’m just looking to earn some money for my steak dinner (winkedy, wink). 

OK, I’m gonna get dressed, head out for my tea, enjoy this sunshine today. Christ has risen, my sneezing is over, take joy in that. See you as I trudge my happy road of destiny. Adios!

A Gathering

 Well yawn and good morning, dear reader(s), I come to you on Saturday morning trying to sip down coffee to clear the cobwebs of Simply Sleep from my head. The family is gathering today at mom’s place at High Noon, for an interesting Easter brunch consisting of ham sliders, chicken salad croissant sandwiches, corn casserole, fruit salad and cinnamon rolls—not exactly the Easter ham dinner I would have liked but hey, I guess you have to be flexible these days. When people are on tighter budgets you have to improvise, so that’s what’s going on here. I don’t have to like it but I’m not going to say anything, just go and assemble a plate and keep the comments to myself. Of course I’m tempted to needle mom a little bit, but we got in such a row over Christmas that I really need to bite my tongue. Cripey, I hope Michael behaves…we shall see.

Ah, family gatherings. Interesting that Chip is absent again—my dear brother, sunning himself down in Florida. No need however for petty jealousy. I just find it intriguing that he manages to side-step these family obligations all the time. Guess if you’re bored and broke back in Ohio there’s no where else to go but mom’s place for this rather anemic brunch; whoops, am I being too harsh, casting judgment without seeing how the spread will look? Oh, how tempted am I to call mom up and start bitching. What, pray tell, has gotten in to me?!

OK I just got off the phone with mom and I did bitch a bit about the gathering, saying I had wanted a proper ham dinner all along, and next year I am going to put my foot down and insist we do things the way the Good Lord intended. Mom didn’t get angry with me at all, she understood, so now I feel better that I voiced my unpleasantness rather than keep it boiled up inside of me. I guess family gatherings are always fraught with a little tension, what’s new and all that. Come on Melissa, adjust your attitude, smiles, everyone, smiles. Pass the face mask, be a good girl, you know how these things go.

I guess I should’ve known I’d be off to a grumpy morning when I had a drinking dream last night. It involved high school friends, being back at a school, oh it just was angst-ridden, and I drank, or maybe I didn’t drink but I wanted to. And I’m unsteady this morning and mom isn’t available to talk me through it. Maybe I can talk to Michael? But he’s grumpy in the mornings too. Damn.

OK my grumpiness has now morphed into a full on worrying anxiety attack. I just took some extra Gabapentin and tried to call mom but I guess she is in the shower? I’m scared and worried and my thoughts are spiraling…how to get them under control? I’m doing deep breathing and trying to focus on the Mozart on the radio right now. Michael has assured me he will be fine at the gathering, I’m not to worry, he actually prefers a brunch. So this anxiety is actually for nothing—It’s stupid, really. I wonder if this is just remnants of the Covid anxiety my friend Katie talks about? Perhaps.

I’m going to get dressed and take Lily for a walk. That should definitely help to calm me down a little. This is just another family gathering, no need to get worked up. Breathe, Melissa. Try to enjoy yourself. This will not be a repeat of Christmas. One minute at a time. You got this.

Day 10: Let The Games Begin!

 

Well hello there dear reader(s), good morning, happy Good Friday and all that, I report to you on Day 10 of Covid where I am feeling relatively good. I had another marathon sleeping session, so much sleep that I do feel a tad groggy. But I hope to shake that off by taking Lily on a walk, I definitely need to get moving, it’s been awhile since I’ve been out walking around. The sun is peeking out today, which is nice. I have to make the Corn Casserole this afternoon for tomorrow’s family Easter gathering at mom’s place. It’s an easy NYT recipe that I’ve made before, this time however I know to leave out the scallions. 

Michael is treating me to some kind of food delivered for dinner. I definitely need a break from cooking. I do have the fridge stocked with a lot of meat but I just have no desire to prepare anything. I have to say I’ve done one helluva job cooking all throughout this Covid sickness in our home. I only got one night off last week, when we had pizza, the rest of the time I’ve been laboring away to put food on the table. So I’m proud of myself, me always looking for some purpose in my life, at least I can hang my hat on my cooking.

As we near Easter this Sunday, I was remembering this morning back to that time years back when I was nuts and went to that priest’s home next to St. Mary’s church and rang the doorbell, wanting to talk to someone, probably about some vision I was having. A man answered the door, I don’t think he was the priest, and he was very, very rude to me, sent me away in embarrassment that I had wanted an audience with someone who wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of me. I haven’t been back to St. Mary’s since, I guess I learned a hard lesson that some members of the clergy are not welcoming to certain downtrodden individuals. Oh manic psychosis, I shudder when I think about it and cross my fingers that my medication will keep it at bay.

No, I won’t be at church this Sunday, but the reason is more that I am recovering from Covid rather than I am fearful of a reoccurrence of psychosis or embarrassment that I once went to churches off my rocker. But I do have a rather, err, strange feeling about me and houses of worship, I guess it’s just from my experience with them, going back to my younger years at Broad Street Presbyterian Church, a place I wish I could call home today but something is blocking that. Oh well. I will keep looking for a church for me, maybe First Congregational Church is the place. 

My head is still feeling a touch muddled and I can’t write as freely as I like. Oh well, just need to be patient and wait for this Covid to completely move through me. I’ve gotten myself bathed and dressed for the day, had cottage cheese for lunch (dieting) and now getting ready to hit the kitchen. My hair is down and my curly locks are showing. Michael complimented me on it. Perhaps I shouldn’t be sporting a ponytail all the time? It’s just easier to wear my hair that way, get it out of my face when I am cooking. I do tend to neglect my appearance, it’s a middle age thing. Maybe that’s something I can work on? Perhaps it’s time to call Nicole for a hair appointment.

OK, off I go. Happy Good Friday all. See you tomorrow.

Turning The Corner

 Well good morning, dear readers, here I am on Day 9 of Covid and definitely feeling so much better. I’ve been sleeping well, my symptoms are subsiding, the worst is over and I’m relieved. I’m feeling the urge to get out today, where I don’t know yet. I’m tempted to go to mom’s but I’ve got a therapy FaceTime at 12:30 p.m., so perhaps I just occupy myself here at home, maybe put away some clothes or wash the bed sheets? Maybe clean the flannel and put on regular sheets as the temperature is rising now that Spring is here. 

Lots of thoughts are swirling through my head now. Should I embark on a diet? What would happen if I started weighing again and measuring out my food, would I get sick again like last Fall? Yup, it always comes down to the weight, that’s why I fell apart so many times in the past, I was upset over the weight gain caused by the meds and either tinkered with them or went on drastic diets and just ended up in the looney bin. Weight is definitely my cross to bear now. Ugh.

I’m also thinking about what I read the other day, my blog entries from 2014, where I chronicled psychosis and coming out of it. On the one hand, I’m very glad to have this blog here to read over to see my past dealing with this bipolar disorder, but on the other hand it can be very unsettling to see a mind so topsy turvy, in the throes of psychotic features, trying to have a grip, definitely displaying grandiosity, I guess I’m embarrassed that I went through that.

I’ve been struggling to make sense of what I’ve been going through since I resumed writing here four months ago. No, I’m not psychotic, but I have felt a little odd and as you know I’ve been going through this thing with YouTube and the alley trolling looking for things for my art—is it bizarre behavior, or is it all normal, I cannot tell. I do know when I was floridly psychotic I would look at trash in the alleys but this feels entirely different, I am selecting items to tell a story on a canvas. I keep asking Fetter whether I am crazy or not, and I think perhaps that’s the reason why I’m not crazy. If I were off my rocker I certainly wouldn’t be questioning myself. I know that to be true.

I guess it’s all good, and maybe what I do this afternoon is get back to the alleys and see what treasures are waiting. I need to resume taking pictures with my iPhone, this blog needs the enhancement of photos along with the text. I’m hoping my head will clear up so the creativity can shine through again. OK I’m off to take a shower, I need to get clean, yes I’ve definitely turned the corner on this Covid. Take care friends.

Anxiety

 Just had an awful bout with anxiety this morning, which gratefully has been controlled by taking extra Gabapentin and talking through things with mom on the phone. It’s the two things I need in conjunction, the medication and the dialogue, which help me get a toe hold on things. I seem to always get anxious over things I cannot control—things that cause uncertainty that makes me uncomfortable. I’m trying to remember to Let Go and Let God but it’s difficult for me. Maybe it’s time for a prayer:

Dear God, please work through Michael today. I’m trying to control him and it isn’t working. I’m only getting frustrated and upset. I cannot control another. God I’m turning it over to you. I don’t want to be orchestrating outcomes. I’m tired. I have Covid. Help me God to just relax today and heal. Amen.

OK I just sent a long text to sponsor Shawn telling him he needs to be aware of my sensitivity towards matters concerning my husband and my house. Shawn was a little too forthright in his opinions yesterday during our Zoom which led to me having an anxiety attack this morning. Fetter has counseled me to not have a knee-jerk reaction of thinking I have to act immediately on everything Shawn tells me. I tend to do that, act on the last thing I have heard, and it’s not fair to Michael and gets me all worked up. I’m getting better at figuring all of this out. It has just taken one helluva long time.

It’s going up to 80 today, we have windows open and a wonderful breeze is blowing through the house. Michael is wearing shorts, maybe I need to finally shave my legs? I still feel the remnants of Covid, here on Day 8. Kinda feel like staying in my nightgown for awhile longer. Mom told me to take a shower but I’m not feeling motivated. I’m allowed to just take it easy. 

I may get dressed and make a run to Starbucks for some passion tea. I probably should get dressed. Yes, I’m up for a car ride. I’m planning meatball subs for dinner, maybe give Michael some French fries too. OK my head is muddled, this is all the writing I can muster today. Later folks.

Outward and Onward

 Well good morning dear reader(s), here I am on Day 7 of Covid, and I am making preparations to venture out to the grocery store this afternoon. I’ve made a shopping list, it’s not too long, and actually I’m excited to be going somewhere today! I am feeling a tad better, still a little stuffy in the head but the sore throat is gone, hooray. I have a Zoom scheduled with sponsor Shawn at 12:30 p.m. then I am going to Kroger. Not going to overly exert myself, just spread my wings a little bit after days of quarantining.

Michael is up, that boy has been basically sleeping his way through his Covid infection. I think I’m further along in the healing than he is because I’ve been taking the Extra Strength Tylenol and Vitamin C, along with the Flonase sprays every morning. We approach illness so differently, I go with the medication and doctor’s instructions, he likes to just wing it. Different strokes for different folks I guess.

Temps are projected to be in the 70s today. Wowza. Perhaps I need to think about fishing out my Spring clothes? I’m not sure where they are, somewhere deep within my closet…I’m too tired to search, so maybe I’ll just wear one of Michael’s t-shirts today. Yes, I’ve still got Covid fatigue, that I think is one of the most annoying things about this virus. I definitely didn’t like the sore throat either. But honestly I think I’ve gotten through this sickness fairly quickly, thanks to the Paxlovid and the opportunity to rest quietly here at home. 

Not much more to report, keep on keepin on and all that. Onward to another Kroger adventure. A woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do!

Getting Old

 Well good afternoon, dear reader(s), I report to you on Day 6 of Covid, and I am feeling better after sleeping 11 hours, not getting out of bed until 10:15 a.m. this morning. I had to quickly drink down some coffee before my 11:00 a.m. FaceTime session with Fetter, which went very well. Afterwards I was able to  get dressed and take Lily on a short walk—my first time outside in like 6 days, or something like that. It was great to get the fresh air, get away from the house if only for a short time. I think by Wednesday I’ll be ready to try a trip to Kroger, with a mask, of course. 

I’ve had some bouts of anxiety/elevated frustration during this Covid, but taking extra Gabapentin has helped calm me down. I’ll be sure to ask Dr. Levy about his thoughts as to how the Covid virus affects the brain—I’m interested in research that has been done in this area. Oh, and I told Fetter how I was having this elevated thing with my senses and cognition since my Depakote was drastically reduced, and how strange it felt, and he said it can take a year to finally feel “normal.” Oh God, a year? I’m only 4 months in and believe me, I’ve seen some mighty strange things around me. Is this show going to continue on ad infinitum? Hmmm.

I guess I just want to conclude today that this Covid stuff is getting old, I’m ready to go back to my life of freely traveling around, visiting friends, having lunches and dinners. Just being well. I must wait another 8 days for that. That seems like such a long time, but it actually isn’t. And I must remember I do have the Covid antibodies now, which is a great thing. I’ve made it through the worst part, and it actually wasn’t that bad. I’m feeling a tad tired now, so it’s goodbye for today. More tomorrow, as usual.

Classical Covid

 Well hello there dear reader(s) on this Palm Sunday, I’m not getting to the church on time, as I’m in Day 5 of Covid quarantine. I am feeling a touch better this morning, nose isn’t as terribly blocked up as it was, and my throat is feeling much better. I was able to sleep for about 9 hours last night—hooray!—the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in days. Me thinks the Paxlovid, coupled with the Extra Strength Tylenol and Flonase is actually working to kill off this wretched virus. I may indeed be healed by Easter next week, in time to join the family for our annual Easter gathering. Whew. I will most likely still wear a mask when I am around everyone, just to be safe and respectful.

I’m listening to the Classical station on Pandora right now and all of this music reminds me of my beloved Basset Sir Little Legs who is now gone. I would type my entries here to this music whilst he slumbered away on the couch—I look over there now and see Lily and yes, that’s comforting, but we are missing Legs and that makes me terribly sad. Maybe it’s time to seek out another Basset? Oh but who could take the place of our lovable, annoying, loud Legs, he was just one of a kind. I did put some feelers out to Gigi’s Dog Rescue, and I guess we shall see if anything comes of it. Oh Legs I have not forgotten you, I love you, I miss you so much.

I wonder if I will no longer be able to listen to this Pandora Classical, everything playing makes me think of Legs. Or maybe it’s just everything reminds me of the past four months, including when Legs got so ill at the end. That’s probably it. Come to think of it, these past four months that saw me suddenly roaring back to writing again, saw me making art for the first time in 20 years, this has been a monumental shift that must be recognized. Parts of my memory are back, it’s all because the Depakote was dramatically cut in half by the kind folks in the nut hut, so I’m grateful for that.

I think I may be up for a walk today. I need to get out and move. Yes, I’m going to take Lily for a walk, probably the afternoon shift before I make the Lamb White Bean Chili. I did shower yesterday, so that’s good. And I was productive in the kitchen, even though I’m still sick. Hey, the woman typically has to be the one to keep the household running during times of illness, and our place is no exception. Michael continues to sleep, sleep, sleep, he’s on Day 8 of Covid now. I’m interested to see how he’s feeling today. 

I had some bad anxiety yesterday morning whilst talking to mom about Trump and his antics. I really spiraled out, texted Fetter, everything seemed scary and awful and uncontrollable. But then I popped an extra Gabapentin, Fetter agreed to see me tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. on FaceTime, and I felt more relaxed about things. My friend Katie said Covid makes your anxieties worse and I believe it. I feel calm right now, granted, I haven’t talked to mom yet, and I knocked on wood that this continues today.

OK signing off for today. Sending healing vibes to myself, and to you if you need some. Later.

Improvement?

 So here I am on Day 4 of Covid, feeling under-rested yet there was a slight improvement in my sore throat when I awoke this morning. It wasn’t the horrible, intense pain I felt yesterday morning, which was a relief. I came downstairs and had a lot of OJ, then took my Tylenol, Vitamin C, had my Flonase drops, then took the rest of my morning meds. I am resuming to suck on lozenges and that’s helping. Michael is doing better, he’s on Day 7, lucky him, he’s getting almost twice as much sleep as me, aided by Ambien and extra Simply Sleep. I’ve decided to gut through things without the extra sleeping aids—I don’t need to be feeling groggy along with this fatigue.

I think I’m feeling up to cooking some banana chocolate chip blondies this afternoon, gonna cobble together two recipes from the NYT Cooking app and hopefully get the measurements right to create something tasty for us. The amounts of flour and sugar I need seems tricky, but I’m just gonna wing it and see what I get. I should be OK to make our standard brunch, and for dinner tonight I’m planning kielbasa and pierogies. I should try to shower today, I really look like a mess, I feel like a mess and a shower would definitely help. I just hope I have the energy. Push, Melissa, push!

Still feeling a little cognitively out of it, but may try to walk Lily this afternoon. I can stick to the alleys and avoid people, even wear a mask outside. I think I need the fresh air. This air in the house is thick with sickness. Yuck. Goodness, when am I going to get the bedding cleaned? Guess that’s something to do next week…

OK, this is all I feel up to writing today. Gonna call mom and see how she’s doing. Adios and all that. See you around the neighborhood.