It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year?

 Well Merry Christmas Eve 2023 everyone. I woke up at 8:00 am this morning, made my coffee, and have been spending my time gazing at the Christmas tree, which now has some presents underneath it. Michael has the Christmas music playing now, and I’m gearing up to make some corned beef hash for brunch. I was going to go to Shawn’s church for a service but I scratched that idea. Just not organized enough to make a visit to a house of worship. Oh well.

I’ve been reflecting on how different this year is from last year at this time. Last year I was definitely experiencing some psychosis (which I didn’t realize at the time), even though I was on the 4 mg. Risperdal, like I am now. Last year I had energy and the creative juices were flowing; this year I feel sedate and trapped in this recliner, dealing with anxiety and regrets that I am missing out on life. I keep thinking about a comment my friend Alison made to me back in September: What is it that you do all day? And the answer is really that I do nothing but ruminate about anxious thoughts. This is no way to go through life, and I’ve got to do something to change this.

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Well it’s now Christmas Day, I awoke at 3:30 am and after trying to fall back asleep and failing, I’m now up sipping coffee. So now I’ve got to make it through this very long day with very little sleep, oh this is so typical but at least it’s not like last Christmas when I was sick with an upset GI tract. The First Things First 7 am AA meeting will be on Zoom in a few hours, I can go to that, I think it’s Meditation Monday which is something nice to start the day. Shawn will be there running the meeting, I can always count on him to be carrying the message. If I were organized, I’d be attending the meeting in person but I’m not and I guess that’s OK.

I read over a few entries here from last year at this time and it’s kinda hard to see that I was dealing with mild psychosis at the time. I know now that I was, I lived through it, and I guess I’m frustrated, saddened and fearful that the 4 mg Risperdal wasn’t controlling things like it should have been. It just goes to show that the medical community doesn’t know how to handle manic psychosis all the time, and I’m talking about the type where you aren’t angry and violent, you’re actually good-natured and often funny, though entirely in your own world and in my case, thinking you’re in a movie being filmed. I guess I’m pretty good at fooling my doctors that I’m ok when I’m not, maybe fooling everyone around me, including myself?

What’s with this, me obsessing on manic psychosis here on Christmas, surely I can table this stuff just for a day and focus on happier thoughts? Maybe I do need to go to the AA meeting in person, or at the very least, write out a Gratitude List:

I’m grateful for:

1. My sobriety 

2. I’m sane and stable this Christmas 

3. My husband, hound Lily and I are all healthy

4. My loving extended family and friends

5. A roof over my head

6. Ample amount of food I lovingly prepare

7. Excellent psychiatrist, therapist and other doctors 

8. Supportive AA community

9. Coffee and nicotine gum

10. Presents under the Christmas tree

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I’m feeling better, though I know I’m gonna be dragging later on today. Oh well, just another imperfect Christmas, just goes to show best laid plans often go astray. Merry Christmas to you and yours, here’s hoping sanity is here to stay. 

Writing Prompt: Tis The Season

 Prompt: Describe a favorite gift you’ve received or given.

Tis The Season

I absolutely love Christmastime, and particularly giving presents to loved ones. I always strive to give the most perfect gift, something surprising but absolutely loved by the recipient, who most of the time is my husband, Michael, an eccentric character with Willie Nelson braids, sporting leopard print pants from Nike, and turquoise Air Jordan’s when he’s out walking our Basset Hound Lily in the neighborhood. 

Michael will drop hints of what he wants for Christmas, for example this year he said he wanted a “hip sweater with a skull.” I have no idea where that came from, save we have a black dog sweater with a skull and crossbones on it, and maybe my husband wants to match Lily this winter? So off to Google I went, typing in “men’s skull sweater” and lo and behold numerous items popped up. 

The selections ranged from a high-end Saks Fifth Avenue number for $1,000 to some truly awful designs hawked on Amazon for $19.99. After scrolling through many pictures of sweaters, I came across a black Kohl’s sweatshirt with a large, grinning white skull on the front, priced at a reasonable $35. It wasn’t a sweater but it honestly looked very cool, in my opinion, so I went ahead and bought it. Fingers crossed my fashionista partner approves.

I remember one Christmas many years back, my husband had asked for a smoking jacket—no, he doesn’t smoke—and I ended up getting him a grey silk paisley robe with matching grey silk pajama pants. He absolutely adores them, so I think there’s a good chance he will like his skull sweatshirt in lieu of a sweater. If he doesn’t like it, it can easily be returned, along with the other gifts I got for him from L.L. Bean. I’m cool with that, heck it’s the thought that counts, right? Right. Happy Holidays, everyone!

And So It Goes

 So it’s after 4:00 p.m. on a Tuesday in mid-December, I’ve been staring at our beautiful Christmas tree, nicknamed “Mort” (shortened from Mordecai), who I’ve lovingly decorated with all the ornaments I’ve been collecting over the years. Michael is playing ambient music, no Christmas tunes til Christmas Day, but I listen to those on the car radio when I’m driving around. Things have been so-so, there’s been some stress and anxiety dealing with elderly family members, but Michael is steering the ship and I’m trying my best to just be an emotionally supportive wife. The catastrophic thinking has been rearing its ugly head but I’m managing it as best I can with my Gabapentin and of course talking to sponsor Shawn and therapist Dick Fetter.

I’m so friggin grateful I have all my faculties right now, and I continue with my rigid medication compliance and sleep schedule to keep the bipolar episodes in check. Honestly, I don’t think it’s possible to live a lower stress lifestyle than the one I currently have—I don’t work, I have no children, our finances are in order, I’m extremely fortunate. My moods have been stable for quite some time, the only real issue I have is catastrophic worry about unknown future scenarios I dream up when I am sedate in my recliner (which is most of the time). 

I guess my psychiatrist Dr. Levy has done a good job with my case, although I’m left sedate with breakthrough anxiety particularly in the morning hours. But I’m surviving, I’m still here, I was dealt with the blow of bipolar and alcoholism and I’m recovering from both, one day at a time. Tonight is the Tuesday night AA meditation meeting and I think I’ll go, taking some time to just breathe and let my mind unwind from anxious thoughts. Thank God for AA, I still haven’t completed the Steps, maybe I never will, but I belong to the AA fellowship and for now that’s enough.

So back to Christmastime, I’ve ordered all of Michael’s gifts and now I’m just waiting for them to be delivered. Cross that off my list, I’ve planned a special treat for myself on Thursday, I’m getting a massage after therapy with Fetter. Then Michael is taking me out for dinner. I’m so spoiled. Shawn is having his annual holiday party Saturday night, with all the tasty food and his lovely view of downtown Columbus. Santa Claus is comin to town…hooray!

Writing Prompt: What If?

 Prompt: Pick a “what if” scenario and write about it.

This week’s assignment was to write about a “what if” scenario. I thought it would be easy at first, pick something whimsical to write about and just let myself be taken away. I was going to write about “what if I won the lottery” and regale everyone with my lottery fantasies, but something stopped me dead in my tracks. 

At first I couldn’t put my finger on it, why was I suddenly encountering difficulty putting together sentences about hitting the jackpot? I started to fret about it, wondering if I was encountering writer’s block again after a year of writing freely. I have been feeling a touch depressed lately, maybe that might explain my difficulties? But no, that really wasn’t it.

Then suddenly this morning it hit me: I actually do think about “what if” scenarios all the time, but it is always, always in the context of crushing, anxious catastrophic thinking about the future. For example, what if I find myself old and alone, with no one to help me? What if my meds stop working and I’m propelled into manic psychosis again? What if I find myself alone and broke and living on a park bench? Yes, it’s those age old fears of being alone, broke and insane that rear their ugly heads and thwart any attempt at being positive in my writing today.

I try to think back to when I was an innocent child, or a fearless woman in her 20s, basking in the hopefulness that a “what if” scenario could bring. Why is it that now in my 50s, hope has been eclipsed by fear and anxiety, is that a product of my sobriety, or is that the kind of world we now live in, thanks to social media, mainstream media, and everyone walking around with an iPhone recording things? I’m frustrated that I can no longer equate “what if” with something positive, it just defaults to something that makes me uncomfortable and afraid.

Perhaps my problem is I have outlined my fears in Step 4, but have yet to move beyond to the other Steps, so I can experience a spiritual awakening and finally find peace. I wonder if there are others who are in a similar boat as me, struggling with a fear response when thinking about “what ifs” or anything that might involve future scenarios. I wonder if I can force myself into positive thinking but alas, right now, my mood is kinda down. But at least I managed to cobble a few paragraphs together, giving us something to reflect upon for a bit. Here’s hoping I might once again find the whimsy in “what if.” Perhaps some day. Perhaps some day.