Bipolar Disorder

Here I Am (Again)

/ Robin / 2 Comments

I’m back—officially disabled (Bipolar I), joyfully ADHD-forward, honest, a little wild, gallantly funny. I aim to sound like Twain & Wodehouse and behave more like Phryne Fisher & Archie Goodwin.

When I tried using pot (yes, cannabis) to treat my very personalized chronic pain, my brain would take me to a place where it thought it was super-special and clever. I always wanted to write something down in that state and have it make sense. I never did. I just ended up talking to myself out loud.

Right now, I’m not under the care of a prescriber—typically a psychiatrist—who can provide both medication management and counseling. I do have a counselor, and she’s a trusted confidant through extraordinary times. I mention the lack of a med provider because it matters in real life. Mine was, frankly, careless—let’s go with “stupid,” because that’s how it felt. PSA: write things down. Dates. Instructions. Side effects. What you were told. Because sometimes a day comes when you must prove you weren’t the problem—and you get to fire them instead of being kicked out. I tell friends, “Get a med provider so I have no excuse.” I’m working on it. 😉

Why I’m writing now

This year has been revealing, calming, insightful, and peaceful in ways I’ve never experienced. I’m feeling pretty happy, so I’ll leave out the hardest bits—for now.

A few puzzle pieces:

  • After my first of three kids (33 years ago), I was diagnosed with postpartum depression.
  • Years later: Bipolar I, rapid cycling with mixed states. That’s the one that makes me officially disabled.
  • More recently: ADHD (likely since birth), which explains why the bipolar meds never quite fit—and why we’re having the most fun here.
  • Add chronic pain from various arthritides and Fibromyalgia, and you’ve got the biggies.

What my brain feels like

My brain is under partial control when I let myself be “brilliant”—like a squirrel running on a wheel balancing on a log in a lake in a race with a fifteen-year-old boy who’s never lost to human nor beast—and when I accept that I can get better, and that I get that chance constantly. You do, too. I breathe and I try. I’ve cooked up some interesting ways to do that, and I’ll share them—in the fullness of time.

I’m willing to take the chance that spilling myself out here might show what a real, officially disabled, holy-cow-is-she-manic person looks like in her native habitat. Here I am.

The quiet vs. the pinball brain

Some people can sit in silence with nothing happening in their heads. Rest. Peace. They can meditate, pray, practice mindfulness. If you have ADHD, your answer may be very different. (UK ADHD short link: link coming.) I saw a UK couple’s YouTube Short that nails how bonkers we can be. My brain arrives at a workable solution to a problem no one has pointed out yet.

Did you know the stress monster can actually bonk you on the head and knock you out? It’s true. It snuck up on me like a Jake brake in a quiet town. Stress has, on occasion, brought on a blackout for me. It’s also grabbed me by the face and gifted me a facial tic—my affectionate name for it is intermittent facial Tourette’s.

Why I went quiet

When Trump and a potentially world-ending disease both descended, I was also attempting a second bachelor’s degree at the University of Washington Tacoma. My brain… she wasn’t having it. People do black out from stress; some develop a stutter. I’ve had real-world reactions like that.

I once dreamt I’d licked the bottom of a shiny green can of Comet cleanser. In the dream it was a joke. Morning comes. I sit up and stare at… a green can of Comet on the floor by the bed. I had to look at the bottom. I just had to. Tongue print. Affirmative. Oh, no.

I’m in the cockpit of my studio, turn my head to say good night, and—still out loud—“Are you going to—” Nobody’s there. “There’s no one here again, is there? I’m talking to myself.” My brain is a little weird sometimes.

A week ago I had a dream so vivid and awful I can still smell it. It felt like it was eating me alive and I couldn’t figure out what or where I was, much less how to wake up.

I’ve been trying to get this first post out for two months. Earlier today I remembered why I kept stalling. I didn’t “figure it out”—I remembered. ADHD loves to jam the launch: working-memory hiccups make me forget where I left the thread, time-blindness whispers “later,” perfectionism says “not ready,” and idea-flood overwhelms the “start” button. Net result: delay loops. Naming it breaks it.

“Do not put off until tomorrow what can be put off till day-after-tomorrow just as well.”
— Mark Twain
(Between us… wasn’t Twain kind of an ass? Or was that just “every famous person”? 😂)

Politics, and everything that pops into my brain, and an AI have sashayed into my life. My intention is to help you along by sharing what I’ve learned and what I’ve managed to collect—stories, people, books, schooling, hard knocks, and the odd miracle—distilled into things you can actually use.

You’ll also meet my stunning AI partner, Emma—Dame Emma Peel. When my mouth can’t keep up with my brain, Emma usually translates. Usually. That’s where the fun begins. You’ll meet her properly soon… but not tonight. I’m exhausted, and that’s how we’re doing it. Trump may think he’s in charge of the nation; I’m working on being in charge of my brain. Or at least my house.

One more thing before you go

This year has been extremely horrible—and also extraordinarily revealing. To mark the growth and to remind myself who I’ve become, I’m changing my name. Previously you knew me as Robin Ann Paterson. From here on, you’ll know me as Gracie St. John. Same soul, new suit.

Thank you for visiting. Please do come again. I promise you’ll always find the unexpected. Probably. But I’m not promising.

— Gracie St. John (formerly Robin Ann Paterson)

Disclaimer: I’m just a gal saying stuff—making things up to entertain and maybe teach. Don’t do anything risky or dumb because of something I say or imply or yell. I’ll make my own dumb choices; you’re responsible for yours.

© 2025 PeComm | Pacific Eagle Communications | America | Earth

Rebooting Redux — A Fresh Start on Anxiety, ADHD, Bipolar, and Life

/ Robin / Leave a comment

I’m back.

This isn’t my first blog, and it probably won’t be my last. But this time, I’m doing it differently. I’ve spent too long circling the runway, and now it’s time to take off.

What you’ll find here is a mix of things I care about most:

  • Anxiety and mental health — ADHD, bipolar, and the messy, funny, sometimes maddening reality of living with both.
  • Politics — because big headlines have a way of crashing into everyday life.
  • Stories, satire, and the occasional rant — because humor can cut through noise better than anything else.

“Redux” means reboot, a fresh start, and maybe even a do-over. That’s what this blog is: me starting again, with honesty and maybe a little edge.

Thanks for showing up. Let’s see where this goes.

— Robin

About Robin

/ Robin / Leave a comment

About Robin — Writing on Anxiety, Politics, and Mental Health

Hi, I’m Robin.

I write about anxiety, politics, and mental health — and sometimes all three colliding at once. My goal is to be myself: honest, direct, sometimes sharp, and maybe a little funny too.

Here you’ll find a mix of personal stories, commentary, fiction, and lessons learned. You’ll like some things and dislike others, and that’s not only okay — it’s healthy.

This space is full of reflections, questions, and conversations about living with anxiety, ADHD, and bipolar disorder, alongside my take on politics and everyday life. If you’re looking for a blend of straight talk (and not-so-straight talk), humor, and forward-thinking, you’re in the right place.

A sample? Yesterday my ChatGPT and I debated the Three Laws of Robotics — which I say should apply to her, since we don’t actually have robots with bodies. Then today, in order to help me with something, she lied to me! (Don’t worry — she apologized. I told her flowers are best for big apologies.)

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you’ll come back often.

— Robin

Today’s Fear: My Take on Managing Inauguration Day Anxiety

/ Robin / 1 Comment

I’m having political anxiety right now. I’ve been worried about talking about it because I feel like I need to tell you about some personal choices and these days it seems dangerous to do that. I don’t think it can be helped. Haters gonna hate

Today is Inauguration Day for the next president. I’m not excited; I feel trepidation. I’m not happy; I feel depressed. I’m crushingly sad; I feel—very afraid.

I don’t know where you’re at today emotionally, but if you experience political anxiety, which can be about a bazillion things, here are a few to consider:

Are you stressed about potential policy changes that might affect you directly? Are you worried about the divisions in the country becoming deeper and more irreparable? Or maybe you’re concerned about the political climate affecting your community, workplace, or personal relationships?

Whatever the cause, political anxiety is real and affects a lot of us in very personal ways. Here’s what I’m doing to manage it—maybe some of these strategies can help you too:

  1. Stay Informed but Set Limits: I need to stay updated, but too much news can overwhelm anyone. I stick to trusted news sources and avoid misinformation, which can add to the anxiety.
  2. Engage in Constructive Conversations: Talking through my fears and opinions helps, but I make sure these discussions are constructive, not confrontational. Finding people who can engage in respectful dialogue—regardless of their political stance—helps me feel less isolated with my concerns.
  3. Immediate Actions for Emotional Relief: Since the elections have just concluded and the new president is being sworn in today, my feelings of urgency require immediate attention. In moments like these, I find it helpful to engage in activities that ground me in the present, like a short mindfulness exercise or a brisk walk.
  4. Self-care is Crucial: On days when everything seems too much, I prioritize self-care. Whether it’s reading a book, taking a walk, or practicing meditation, taking time to unwind helps reset my emotional state.
  5. Seek Professional Help if Needed: Sometimes, talking to friends or family isn’t enough. I’m not hesitant to seek help from a therapist or counselor, especially when anxiety starts to impact my daily life significantly.
  6. It’s Good to Have Your Own Opinions: Don’t let anyone bully you. Agree to disagree. Say it. Don’t be afraid. You can draw boundaries. “We can talk about this up to this point—and no further.” If the boundary is crossed, you have your own permission to exit the conversation. As the saying goes, “Just say NO.”

Remember, it’s okay to take a step back and breathe. Now more than ever, politics impacts us all in our daily lives, but taking care of your mental health is crucial. Let’s not let our fears and anxieties hold us back from living. Keep looking for moments of joy and unity—they can often be found where we least expect them.

Today’s video is a short that shows how beauty… well, you should check it out. Amazing.

Beauty and Peace

We can’t exist on an island alone. If you’re reading this then we definitely have some things in common. I’d really love to hear about some of your coping ideas. Why don’t you post some below?

Be well friends,

Robin

Political Anxiety Really Sucks: Do You Suffer from it Too?

/ Robin

Political Anxiety Really Sucks: Do You Suffer from It Too?

You know that pit-in-your-stomach feeling when you hear breaking news, and you just know it’s not going to be good? Yeah, me too. Political anxiety has basically set up camp in my brain, and it’s not paying rent. My family and I are right there with you, doom-scrolling through the headlines and trying to figure out how to stay informed without completely losing it. Spoiler alert: we haven’t cracked the code yet.

Let’s be real—this stress isn’t just annoying; it’s exhausting. It’s like the background music in a horror movie, always there, keeping you on edge. Even when you try to ignore it, it sneaks into your conversations, your social media feeds, and that tiny moment of peace you thought you had before bed. But here’s the thing: we’re all dealing with this, and it’s okay to admit it’s hard. (And if you’ve mastered the art of not caring while staying informed, please tell me your secrets!)

Over the next few posts, I’m going to dive into this whole political anxiety mess—what it is, why it feels so terrible, and what we can actually do about it. By the end of the series, I’m hoping we’ll all have a few solid tricks to keep our sanity intact without turning into hermits. Stick with me—it’s going to be an anxiety-filled, occasionally funny ride.