What’s Normal? And What’s Not? Judging Families

Yesterday I was challenged on this very topic. I was shocked by what I heard. I was even more shocked because I couldn’t believe who said it and who the person said who they believed had this great family.

So my question is this, who gets to judge what a Good Family is like?

I’d very much like to learn what you all think before I charge fourth and bigger things up.

So my friends! Speak! Tell me what you think.

If you’re willing, could you repost my questions elsewhere.

More soon.

Bipolar Parent

Greetings friends, how are you doing in these wee hours of Friday morning?

Me? I’ve been both better and worse. Thursday had hours I enjoyed… then it crashed and burned as only the day of a parent can do.

When my three kids were young I had impressed even my ex-mother-in-law (let’s call her Kathy) with how well behaved and just good all around people my children were. Now, we are being stalked by rough and naked emotions that have always existed (that would be me, Bipolar parent) but are now beyond my own mind and have grabbed hold of my youngest.

I thought I was a good person growing up. I felt as though I were a likable person, yet I didn’t have many friends. I was lonely much of the time and kept my own company out on our small ranch with my horse, dogs, cats, chickens, pigs, cows and the occasional ducks.

I was a shit.

Seriously. I was a short, freckled shit. Today my mother and I can look years back and point to much of my careening and completely out of control behavior and emotions and say, “That, that right there!” And recognize it as full on Bipolar Disorder presenting before I even had my drivers license.

In short – I was angry all the time and blamed everyone one else for everything. My depression and anger were crushing me and the only name I could give it was – sin. I was a practicing Christian and all those “evil” emotions were clearly not of God… but that’s a topic for another time.

My youngest and his regular doctor decided that he does not have the highly genetic Bipolar brain that I’m still learning to embrace. Anxiety. Depression. Mania. Mood swings. Irrational behavior. That’s Scott, my “I’m a psych major. I already know how to deal with anger and anxiety.”

Scott is transitioning from my second daughter, Sydney, to my second son, Scott. (Incidentally my father’s name was Scott.) Scott is undergoing hormone treatment. He wasn’t always easy to talk to about things that he felt “attacked” him. Now he’s so much more difficult.

I despair.

He turns 21 this Saturday. He’s angry and bitter and is working so hard to make people not like him that I just want to sit down and breathe like I’m having a baby all the time. He and his wife are both psychology majors who it seems aren’t studying behavior.


Scott sounds just like I did. If transitioning changes him into the sex his mind believes him to be, then I will continue to try to learn and gain deeper understanding. However, he’s a grown man (he says) and I expect him to at least respect me.

§ On Father’s Day Scott thanked me for being both his mom and his dad growing up. §

What I will not do is accept from him the same behavior at 21 that I had at 14. He has tools around him to teach him about what’s running loose in his little grey cells. Me – religion, animals, and hypnosis.

The weight of his relentless ill-will and violent anger crushed me at dinner. It was like fighting with my dad, but I was the reasoning one (yeah, no. My dad wasn’t good at being rational when angry either.)

Top the whole bloody mess off with a leaking red cherry on it and you have a self-entitled disrespecting second son.

I’m not having it anymore.

Being a parent with Bipolar is terrifying literally every second of that child’s life for me. With Scott acting like the individual (did I mention pressured speech?) that he clearly isn’t I have no clue how to even begin to help him to stop yelling into my face that I should shut up because I’m not listening.


Parenting the twenty-something kid today is a massive challenge for this Bipolar mom. I have been charged with the crime of trying to build good family memories. I have felt despair and anger towards Scott. These are not the memories I want to build. We’re going to work this out, but I realize that I will very possibly react like I have Bipolar Disorder while we do it.

I can do this. I can figure out my part in healing our relationship. Be loving and kind… and forgiving.

However, Scott is a grown man and if he does not have Bipolar Disorder or some other explanation for his behavior, then he’d better watch out. I corralled the three of them through their teens by myself and while not properly medicated for my illness.

Respect me as your mom.

Respect my illness.

Respect yourself and get help if we just can’t talk it out.

I really wanted to go old school, like back to when I was a kid, and wash his mouth out with some nasty bar of soap like Dial or Lava and spank him with a wooden spoon. Two if the first one breaks.

Sigh….. parenting never ends, not really. My mom is still my mom. Who else would she be?

Scott, baby? YOU! It’s time for YOU to shut up and listen.

Bipolar: It Is Very Difficult to Know

A lot of the time I hesitate to post because I don’t know what you, my reader, expects to read. I struggle with this every day. I could tell you about my day, but that’s so boring – dull! I could stick to only write about myself and what I’ve learned about Bipolar, but I really feel strongly that this kind of important thing deserves a website of its own so that people in pain or who are looking for answers can go to that site and find answers and acceptance right away. So, I’m developing a website to do just that.

I have Bipolar Disorder Type 1 with mixed states. I also entertain much of the rest of the alphabet. I could drone on and on and try to… well, I think you know where that was going.

Basically I’m a normal 55 year single mom of three who is interesting and has a good sense of humor. I have some compelling stuff following me around that makes me complicated, but who doesn’t? Surely everyone has experienced the strange things accompanying Bipolar, anxiety, depression, ADHD, PTSD, FM, OA, etc.

I have a Japanese Fighting fish like all your neighbors do and speaking of neighbors, also just like you, I politely file noise complaints regarding one nice household whenever my TV starts to loudly rattle. Seriously.

I’m so normal I could bore you silly. Although… did I mention my eldest daughter will be moving in with me in a few months? (Honestly, it’s for the best. I need the support and we can both use help with housing expenses.)

In fact things are sooo boring that I’m going to need to graduate from college with another bachelors degree and I’m going to have two sons and a daughter instead of what has been the standard at my house with two daughters and a son.

See? Boring.

I am first and foremost a woman who deals with an incurable illness and will continue to do so until I die. Well, and perhaps afterward too. I mean, who really knows?

If you don’t mind too much, I’m going to write about all of these things. I might even add in the bits where one of my family members believes that God has them on this earth for only one reason and that is to save his children and to draw them back to Him because they are lost.

Maybe I’ll recount some of my experiences growing upon a ranch as a teen who presented with Bipolar at a very young age and how well that went over with my undiagnosed Bipolar father. Maybe I’ll include fun times at the church I was attending that was into casting out demons. Yeah. Fun times.

Have I mentioned I went to Bible College searching for God? I wanted so desperately for Him to take away the pain I felt that was crushing me from within every day. No? Bipolar, prayer, and demonic possession… seems like there’s a story in there, somewhere.

What’s on your mind? Should I throw caution to the wind and open up a bit more? It all, and I do mean all, ties directly back into this sickness, this life long illness I struggle with. It is all infused with, you know it, Bipolar.

I don’t believe it is a disorder. I believe it’s a disease, an illness and should be treated with the respect it deserves… that we deserve.

Talk to me my Readers. Tell me what you think. Do you have questions? I can’t guarantee I’ll answer, but I’ll read all of them. 🤔

Be well.


Bipolar – My Best Friend

90e0b3c0b78324323204c14bdfffde84  I have three kids ages 25, 22 and 19. My eldest, Jessica and I drove across the country back in last August from Tampa, where she was stationed in the Air Force, to Washington State. She and her two cats and I took 11 days to make the trip. I have to admit that I was worried about how I and my Bipolar were going to behave on the trip. I can tell you in all honesty, it went far better than I expected it possibly could go.

Jessica and I have great relationship. We’re very close. We’re both going to college, different ones though. We don’t live together, but we often cook and eat meals together and we study for school together. One of my favorite things to do with her is to go for walks. We take my Kelpie/Australian cattle dog Bailey (she’s 3) for a walk around the neighborhoods around my house. We talk the whole time. We talk about everything from family and school to politics and science. We like a lot of the same TV shows too. Sometimes we watch them together, other times we watch from our respective homes and we might be messaging each other about them. Needless to say, she’s my best friend.

Jessica also suffers from depression and anxiety. While she was in the Air Force she was receiving counseling for it but couldn’t take any medications for it because she was an air traffic controller and they can’t take most drugs. Now that she’s out, she’s seeing a counselor and a med provider. She’s taking something for anxiety and is finally feeling some relief.

It was hard watching her suffer while she was still in the military. Talking about it wasn’t enough to help her. I was worried that she’d be against going to be seen for her anxiety and depression because she watched me do it her whole growing up life. I didn’t need to worry. She knew she needed help and knew how to get it.

When we talk about it we understand how each other feels. Although my moods are much more violent and farther reaching than hers are (thankfully she doesn’t have Bipolar), she still understands me.

More than just being someone to talk to she challenges me to try to be better, to push myself to go further.

I am so thankful for Jessica. Before she came home I was so lonely. I know that we’ll only have time like this until she transfers to school in Seattle in a couple of years, but until then, I will enjoy her companionship and try to learn as much as I can from her. She teaches me how to be better, to be stronger, to believe in myself more. She has no patience for my well-practiced pity parties.

Ours is a very unusual and unique relationship. I never thought I’d have someone I love like this as a part of my daily life who wasn’t my partner.

My two other kids know how close Jessica and I are. I try to spend as much time with them as I can. I also try to get them to spend time here when Jessica is here. They’ve grown apart during the years she was gone. Now that they’re all adults they’re getting to know each other really for the first time. I try to encourage that.

My other daughter and my son also understand about my Bipolar. They are also part of my support system. I depend on all three of them to help me when I’m in a bad place or when I’m struggling with being stable. Each one has a unique role to play. I’m so thankful for the three of them. I don’t know what I’d do without them.

Bipolar – Preparing for Potential Fears

I’m leaving early tomorrow morning to fly from Seattle, WA to Tampa, FL where I will meet up with my eldest daughter who is leaving the military and coming home to us. She, her two cats, and I will begin our journey on Monday or Tuesday to cross this great nation of ours. While I’m gone my other kids will take care of my new house, and my dog and cat.

I have GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder) in addition to my Bipolar Type 1 and am currently cruising along in a hypomanic state according to one of my doctors. Being the mixed bipolar that I am I’m dancing with a little bit of depression too. I’m taking my chill pills as allowed.

I’m afraid I suppose. If you cornered me and asked me how I feel I’d say I’m afraid of all the unknowns ahead of me and of what will happen at my home while I’m gone and it’s all out of my control.

These are normal fears for the most part. Some of their intensity isn’t. If you have Bipolar Disorder you understand that.

I’ve tried to be as prepared as I can be so I can sit and relax this afternoon and not rush around looking for things that should already be packed. I finally got enough Lamactical to last me the whole trip. That was a panic for a few days waiting for the pharmacy to do its thing and have them ready for me.

Probably my greatest fear is of losing my medications.

My family will come together and take care of things here. My daughter and I travel well together so I’m not worried about that. Well, I’m not sure about the cats. They don’t travel well. It may very well be noisy and smelly. But if I lose my meds or the pill boxes get opened I’ll be stuck. I take some controlled substances that just can’t be replaced.

I’ve talked about fear in the past. I’m experiencing fear right now. I’m not afraid of the flight this time so much as I am about the drive from the freeway into the parking garage. I’ve never seen such dangerous driving conditions. Last time it took us an hour or more to go half a mile. Forget about getting to the airport two hours early for the security check in… it might take us an hour to get from the freeway to the parking garage. I’m afraid of the drive and being late because of it.

After that I’ll have the potential of being afraid of the flight, after I consider being afraid of not finding my flight on time.

Lots of potential fears are in my near future. This will be a good opportunity to test myself and see if what I say to do actually works.

I choose today to believe in myself. I choose to believe that we’ll get to the airport safely and all the way to Tampa without a hitch. I choose to believe that all will be well at home and our journey will be a grand adventure. (I’m glad some hotels allow animals.)

I choose to believe in myself and that I’m sane and a terrific person. I believe I can cope with the situations ahead of me and I will do the things that I have learned to do to make that happen.

The truth will out.

Bipolar – Preparing to End a Life



I’ve been preparing for a while to put my eldest cat to sleep. She has cancer in some huge areas of her body. She’s probably been sick for a long time and I didn’t realize it. She’s very terminal.

I think I’ve been keeping her more comfortable because she’s stopped vomiting every day. I’ve been giving her a shot of steroids every other day to reduce the swelling in her intestines. I had diabetes for a while so I’ve got some experience with giving shots, but not generally to moving targets. I have to pull up that skin between her front legs on her back and make a spot there to give it to her. Sometimes she decides I’ve taken too long and walks off. Frustrating.

Good news – I’ve managed not to stab myself.

I’ve had everyone who cares about her come over and have time with her, Siberia, before her day comes (tomorrow). I wanted everyone to be able to say good-bye and have closure. Honestly, I think it’s giving me more closure than it is anyone else.

My eldest won’t be home from the Air Force till late August and I don’t think I should wait that long just so she can hold her for a few minutes. She understands my decision.

Last week I finally made the decision to do it this week and I scheduled the appointment. They wanted to know if I’ll be sitting with her when they do it.

Let’s talk about stress. Losing a pet due to an unexpected accident is sudden and you have no choice of when or how it happens. This is not like that. Not only is it slow, it’s happening on my schedule and I control the whole situation. It freaks me out. After fighting with Blank the other day and stirring up intense emotional energy there, I’m going to say good-bye to my cat. Then I start moving Friday. Three major stressors in one week… that’s enough thank you.

I don’t think there’s any good way to prepare for death, even if it is of an animal. I’ve tried. We went through it last year with my dad. I’ve tried to give everyone a chance to say good-bye. She looks sick.

As for me, I have to go home afterwards with an empty cat carrier.

I told the girl on the phone that I hadn’t yet decided if I was going to be with her at the time or not. I feel like the right thing to do would be to hold her, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough on my own. If I let them take her away and do it away from me, well, I’m already feeling guilty just thinking about that.

My Mom knows about my indecision. She’s pulled through again and surprised me. She’s offered to meet me here at my house and then go to the vet with us. Then, we can sit with Siberia together. That’s a really nice thing for her to do. She understands because she’s had to put to sleep several of her own family pets. This will be my first time with me taking the animal in myself and being totally responsible for it.

That’s tomorrow. I’ve been preparing by letting her sit with me on the sofa (Siberia, not my Mom), which normally annoys me. She gets all close and licks me and always has to stick out a foot and hook me with one single claw. She’s making it harder because she’s wanting to sit closer and closer every day. And she purrs no matter how she’s feeling. I can give her the shot and she never stops purring.

So to protect myself emotionally as much as I can I have prolonged the issue by letting everyone say their good-byes. I’ve spent extra time sitting with her and talking to her. I’ve taken lots of pictures of her. I’ve waited as long as I could. Tomorrow has to be the day. I’m starting moving all my stuff to the new house this Friday.


I could change my mind again, but as of now I’ve decided to hold Siberia tomorrow. My Mom will be there with me helping me be strong. She’s done few things that mean as much as this does to me.

So it will be the vet, Siberia, Mom, me and a chill pill.

Bipolar – Overload and Fury Road

{Warning: drama ahead.}

It’s said by people who know these kind of things that we really can only handle so many major life events at one time, or say, in one years’ time. I’ve passed the recommended daily disaster/stress quota already for this twelve-month period and I’m scheduling more for the near future. I’m maxed out. Friday night, I lost control.

Last year my father passed away after a horrible 6-month sudden fight with cancer including it spreading to his brain. It changed him at the end. It was horrifying. Add a few more major stressors and we come to Friday night when I lost my shit having been provoked by my son’s first girlfriend who is 21 years old. It could have happened at any time, but she pushed my last button and my “lose my shit” gun was locked and loaded. Then the little female of the species told me in a text that I would “NOT” be seeing my son Saturday. She had the nerve to shout at me! (Never shout in a text – use all caps.)

I’ll come clean and just say that I don’t like this girl. Like all good mom’s, I think she doesn’t measure up to what I believe my son deserves. I could give you a rundown of all the things that in my mind disqualify her as suitable for him, but that’s not what I’m blogging about at the moment.

Some of the stressors recently have included looking for a house for me in a market that is pretty much closed. We’re 45 min south of Seattle. Nuff said. There is no housing available and if you find it, it isn’t cheap. We’ve had a rough time finding a place, but we finally did.

Four days ago I scheduled to have my eldest cat put to everlasting sleep on this coming Tuesday. She too has cancer. She’s terminal and after seeing the cancer in an amazing ultrasound that her vet allowed me to sit in on, I agree that it is obvious that she’s got no hope. It’s very possible she’s in pain.

They wanted to know if I want to hold her. I feel like how can I not? But, how can I? My Mom offered to go sit with me. I said yes. So I’ll hold her when she takes her last breath. I’ll be responsible for that, for putting down a cat that seems as friendly and loving as ever. Okay, maybe she’s more friendly than before. She sits as close to my butt on the sofa that she can and as long as she can. I feel bad, but it annoys me after a while. I don’t like to be crowded. So, I feel guilt. My kids have known her, Siberia, most of their lives. She’s 12 and my youngest is 18. That’s happening Tuesday.

Friday, if all goes as planned, we get the keys to the new house and begin moving my things in. We need the keys for Friday but apparently that might not happen. Stress. The kids have taken the day off specifically because I was told we’d have the keys that day. OMG. We’ll be taking the really breakable things and things like the big TV that doesn’t have a box anymore. I’d like to get a lot moved that first day. I’m going to be depending on my kids heavily.

Sydney, my youngest daughter, is going to paint my bedroom for me. I’m thrilled! I’ve chosen purples! I’m going bold.

If, things go as I’ve planned them (and in the real world they rarely do), Kyle will have my brother’s work van and we’ll start moving small stuff and what not and Syd will start painting. Kyle was here doing a run to the dump with a bunch of furniture I wanted to get rid of for a few hours. He was 4 hours late and couldn’t come back to help with the things I can’t reach… which was the plan… after he went to the dump because he had to go get his girlfriend from work.

Sydney had called me at 9:00 a.m. (Friday) and bowed out because her doggie has a hurt paw and she needs to keep her from licking it. Terrific. Friday wasn’t so smooth. I asked Kyle if he was still coming over to help Saturday, yesterday. He said he and Blank, his live-in girlfriend of 3 months wanted to do some things so he couldn’t be here. I thought we had already agreed he’d be here on all his days off at least part of the time to pack. (I am going through the stuff that has followed me through ten years of a failed marriage and 30 years of living with junk I haven’t even seen some of. In my case, my bipolar has made it hard for me to let go…. That’s for another day.)

Okay, Blank (the girlfriend), I taught my kids that family always comes first. I have deadlines that I can’t put off. My emotional wellbeing and a lot of money are tied up in what happens in the next week or so. She demanded that he be with her Saturday to do a few things. He takes her to work, picks her up after work, spends all evening with her, spends all his off work hours with her and yet she feels neglected. True he’s been helping me packing the last three weeks maybe one day a week and spending time with Siberia before she’s gone for good. He has Fridays off. He takes her to work, then comes to help me, then goes to pick her up from work and goes home. How is that taking him away from her?

Where does a 21-year-old girl, who doesn’t know me or anything about me, get off talking to me the way she did? You’ll just have to take my word for it. She was disrespectful and spoke to me like I was a child. She shouted at me in a text that “he would NOT be helping me.” Who the hell does she think she is?

Why isn’t my son standing up for me? Why isn’t he explaining things to her? It’s his first girlfriend, I know that. But she shoved her control of him in my face and that was the end of it. Oh, she’s offered to come over with him AFTER he gets off work today. Terrific. I’ve never liked her. I think she dresses like a slob and is a ditz. She gets herself so worked up over doing homework that she doesn’t do it. Then she insists on Kyle stay with her when she finally does it, when it’s late. She gets depressed all the time and leans on my son to hold her up. The longer I know her the more I see her using him.

I pride myself on the fact that I don’t gossip about and with family members. This is the first time I’ve had reason to. Last night I texted with Blank’s cousin and Kyle’s best friend about her. I was really looking for muscle to help move my TV, but we got off topic and talked about them. He’s worried about Kyle too.

I haven’t been invited to Kyle and Blank’s house once since he moved in with her. I haven’t been invited to meet them at the park to walk the dogs and get to know each other. I’ve done the inviting. I know, she’s just a child, 21. She’s a female sharing a bed with my son. She’s no child.

I had called and asked if she would like to come over yesterday with Kyle to help me. She was walking her dog and said she’d call me back. She didn’t. Later I got a text from her explaining that she has control over Kyle, not me. Oh hell no. I called her and I went off. Fury unleashed.

I haven’t been this angry since Sydney lied to me about dating her now fiancée last year. I don’t even know this girl but the fury I felt was real. I wanted to immerse her in all the pain and stress I’m feeling right now and drown her in it… let her see how it feels.

Oh and that’s not all. I start, hopefully, moving Friday, right? The movers are coming to get the majority of the stuff on Monday. I’m hoping to be fully moved out by the end of Monday. Then August 7th I fly to Tampa to drive my eldest daughter Jessica (leaving the Air Force) and her two cats across the country to here, home.

I have no small amount of stress in my head. I don’t need a clueless child getting the cogs in my rickety machine tangled up and destroying the sensitive state that I’m perched in. And I go back to school in the fall. That’s super stressful for me. This time Kyle won’t be around to ground me. It will all be on me.

So after I unleashed my ineffective fury on Blank, I called Sydney so I could try to calm down. As usual she didn’t react the way I expected her to. She told me basically that she couldn’t believe that her powerful mom, who despite all the odds being against her, kept her kids and raised them and did it really well. She said that despite my Bipolar and other issues I kept them and their dad didn’t get to raise them. She was angry with me for letting someone who should have no power over me, have power over me like that. Where was the powerful woman she knew her mom was at? I got my ass handed to me.

It took me hours to go to sleep and then I over slept.

Hopefully the fury is now in remission. I fear the overload is not. I’ll have to be more careful. Stay on top of taking my meds and going to my appointments. I should tell my new counselor about the fury I suppose. I stopped walking Bailey when it started raining again a few weeks ago. Today was one of the few days we’ve been out. It was muggy.

I don’t know how Bailey did it, but she spotted something gross on the side of the highway and rolled in it without breaking stride. So gross.

So yeah, overload and fury road. I am so mindful of the overload. I feel the fury sticking inside me like my dog eating peanut butter. I’ve got to control myself.

I have no intention of apologizing to Blank today. I have nothing to apologize for. I suppose I could apologize for yelling, but she was yelling too. Little bitch. You don’t get to mess with my family. (Obviously there is a lot more to things than I’m saying here. This is just to give you an idea of how I’m doing.)

I think it’s time for me to have a private talk with Kyle about the differences between family and a girlfriend. The major difference to me is that when everyone walks away from you in the most desperate moments of your life, your family still has your back, still believes in you, still loves you. Family is always what you have left when all the others have gone. That’s how I raised him. The four of us, we are family. Jessica, Kyle, Sydney and I. Unbreakable.

Overload and fury road. Don’t mess with me Blank. I’ve got stuff going on and you don’t want to be the one the fury road dead ends at, especially now that I’ve had time to think things over and not just react emotionally, which is what I did.

I still feel the residue of Friday night’s fury. I feel it settling into my intellectual side, ready to spring into action in a more reasonable way. I’m not going to have a shouting match with a child. She’ll be respectful to me if she comes over with him today, or she’ll be invited to leave.

I’m so angry with her that I called my Mom, whom I sometimes fight with, and explained the situation to her. Kyle has also started caring less about his appearance since he moved in with her. He needs to care because he works with the public every day at work. He’s also started using credit now that he lives with her. He never even had a credit card until he moved in with Blank. Now he’s just bought the $800 Samsung S7 active. He was using a free texting phone and was proud of it before her. Now he owes on the phone, furniture and other things. He doesn’t even have a full-time job. When he lived here he never used credit. I know he has to live his own life and make his own mistakes. I’m not fine with that, but I accept it.

My family didn’t approve of my ex-husband. No one said anything to me about it. Taking the kids out of the equation, marrying him ruined my life. Would I have listened if my family had tried to talk to me about how they felt and what they saw before I married my ex? I don’t know for sure, but there’s a chance it might have. I’m going to give Kyle that chance. He’s too new at relationships to just let him be pulled about by a user. Blank is a user of other people. Also, she too has mental health issues. That alone makes me afraid for him. He deserves to live with a healthy partner. Not that a mental illness means it wouldn’t work, but look, I’m who he’s been living with. I don’t want him to have to keep dealing with issues like I have. He deserves freedom and joy.

She may come over with Kyle today when he comes over after work to help pack. I can’t reach the areas I need him to pack. All us females are under 5’5” and we need his long arms and legs. If she does I will not apologize for our phone call. I have nothing to apologize for. I will be polite. Beyond that, we’ll have to see.

Honey, the name the kids all call my Mom, is thinking she’ll “happen” to swing by while he’s here to check out how he’s doing. I think she’s going to scope out his hygiene. Since he’s moved in with her he isn’t showering everyday like he was. He gets greasy fast so that’s bad. Sydney, who works for the same company as Kyle does, says he looks bad at work. She says his cloths are sloppy and look old and like they fit someone else. She says he’s failed his last three secret shoppers. That’s grounds to be fired. When he still lived here he got several bonuses from the secret shoppers, not fails.

Maybe I’m focusing on Blank because I’m putting Siberia down on Tuesday. Maybe it’s the move or the idea of driving across the country that is making me sensitive to her. Maybe.

I’ll tell you this for certain. No one messes with my kids whether they’re adults or not.

I’ve always been honest with my kids. I see no reason to stop being honest with them now. The truth is, Blank provokes me to anger with the way she interacts with me and keeps my son from seeing me. I’ve heard the way she talks about the aunt she was living with for two years before the aunt kicked her out. She’s vicious. She interprets things to her advantage and then gets Kyle to agree with her….

Okay, I’ve vented in extreme here. I don’t recall doing this like this before. Well, it is a blog about my life and stress is a huge part of my life right now and she’s causing some of it. It’s time for me to recognize that I don’t have to let her get me upset and I don’t have to worry that I have to protect my son from her. I have to have faith that the good job I did raising him and his own personality and intelligence are enough to take care of himself.

Why did he have to sign a year-long lease? Sigh….

Bipolar – Pleasing Personality

As I look back over the last week I see several days where I had less than a pleasing personality. I wasn’t fun to be around. I guess getting ready to move and all the packing and coordinating is weighing heavily on me and I’m letting it change how I interact with people. I’m allowing it to change me in negative ways. I wasn’t keeping an eye on myself. I should have known that I needed to be careful.

I’ve worked so hard over the years to become someone I like. I like myself a whole lot more now than I did even a year ago, but it’s easy to slide back into the familiar crappy personality I the whole time my bipolar symptoms had free reign with me I wasn’t someone people wanted to know.

I should get a tattoo that says, “Daily, proceed with caution.” That way I’ll remember not to take myself for granted and let a mood swing, even a small one, affect my personality and turn me into a person no one wants to be around.

Twice I took the bipolar bait and let potential negative situations explode into fights with family members. I was surprised with how easily I started becoming the person I was for most of my life. I don’t want to lose the better “me”.

Let me give you an example. I didn’t just argue with my Mom, I fought with her. Neither of us was listening to the other and both were convinced the other was wrong.

My Mom and I fought over money. She supports me financially because I can’t work. I get some money from SSI because I’m officially disabled, but it doesn’t even cover my rent so I really shouldn’t fight with her. Morally, I should show her respect. Etiquette dictates that I be respectful to my mother.

I need to work especially hard to have my mood swings well away from my Mom. We lost my Dad just over a year ago and she’s still grieving. She doesn’t need me coming in and making her feel the way she does when we fight. I know it hurts her. She doesn’t explain things well so when she says something and I react to it as though that’s what she really meant to communicate to me we almost always fight.

I should really be asking her what she means. As I told my kids growing up, “ask good questions.” I will start asking her good questions to make sure I really understand what she means. I’ve been saving money since last September because I figured I’d be moving sometime in the near future. Now it’s July the next year and I’m moving. I’ve got enough money saved to buy a piece of furniture, new towels, flatware, a book case and things like that. Oh and I got a new toaster. She freaked out because although I reassure her I have enough money to buy these things she worries and expects that she’ll end up paying for them because that’s the way things have always been in the past.

I’ve always relied on her to bail me out financially. I didn’t go out and buy things I didn’t need, but she couldn’t see that. She just saw $$$ and doesn’t really trust me yet. I don’t blame her.

I’ve kept how much money I have saved private because I didn’t want her trying to make me spend it on paying for the movers or house cleaners. Maybe I should pay for them, but I’m not going to and I’ve explained why to her. I want my own things when I move into my own house. Everything I have is from her. She uses things, gets tired of them, and gives them to me. I don’t even have bath towels that I bought for myself. I’m 53 and I’m still getting hand-me-downs.

Yes, I’m thankful she’s taking care of my needs, but just this once I want to buy somethings for myself. She says she understands that, but I think she still thinks I’ll spend recklessly because that’s what I’ve always done in the past. I’m not going to do that. I’m paying for things as I go so I won’t overspend. I hope I’ll earn her trust as we go through this situation.

I’ve probably told you more than you want to know about the situation, but I have a good reason for that. As painful as it is to admit to anyone but myself that I let myself out of control and let my swinging moods overrun me, I’m admitting it now. I wasn’t careful and I let my mood change who I was.

I was acting like I used to act when we fought all the time. I really don’t want to blow all the hard work I’ve done or our relationship just because of some stress over moving. It was stupid really. I was just being stubborn and didn’t want to tell her how much money I have. To me it’s the only thing that’s really mine, I felt that she didn’t need to know how much money I’ve saved. I believed it wasn’t her business.

I finally reassured her things would be fine, but I did have to tell her how much money I’ve saved up. I told her I have enough to buy the things I’d showed her I was buying.

You know I did try to not fight about it. I sent her links to what I wanted to buy and asked her what she thought. I don’t know that she saw anything but the price. I think we’ve come to an understanding. I feel like my personality is intact again. There are so many things that affect our personalities. I think we all want people to like us. The way I was behaving wasn’t doing that.

Today I have been reflecting on losing my temper during the week. I think I’ve spotted what the triggers were. Now I’m more prepared for the next time my moods poke me and try to make me behave badly. I’m committed to having a pleasing personality. After all, I figure I’m more likely to be successful if people like me, and don’t try to avoid my bitchy ass.

My quest for reaching my goals and following my passions are back on track. Everything impacts these things. I’m not going to give up my dreams because my moods are swinging. I respect my moods and their swings, but I’m determined to live my life with positive passion.

Having a pleasing personality will move me towards my objectives. I’m committed to developing it.

Bipolar – Indecision and Moving Forward


My new home.

To be successful in dealing with Bipolar Disorder or acquiring wealth I have to be able to make decisions and then right away put them into action. Despite my lack of inspiration recently, my goals and dreams, my passions are still the same. Now that I’ve realized that I was sitting still and not moving towards or away from my goals I know that I have to decide to do something to move me towards my goals and then do it right away.

Oh look, my Mother and I just went out with our broker looking for my first house to buy.

This is one way I can help get my enthusiasm back. Action.

We found THE house!

Having my definite main purpose is the first step on my road to success. In the past success was a stranger to me. While my illness was running wild even if I could decide on my purpose I couldn’t take action on it. Or at least it felt that way and this disorder is all about feelings isn’t it.

My Mother decided to make an offer on it. She’s buying it for me because I have no credit because I am on disability and don’t work. I’ll be making the payments (essentially buying it from her).

Then life pops in and loudly declares that things are not cut and dried. Things are messy and take time and are full of surprises. Such as…

My Mother added a letter with the offer explaining that the house is for her adult daughter who is disabled and asked them to take that into consideration. There were higher offers, but we won the house!

My anxiety tinged mind is making popcorn now.

On Aug. 7th, just after I move, I’m flying to Tampa, FL to drive cross country to bring my daughter home from the Air Force. I’ll have just been in my new house a few days. My kids will take turns living in my new house for me with my dog and two cats. How ironic. I feel jealous. I’ll have to work fast to unpack everything. The house is so much bigger than anything else we looked at. It’s beautiful. I wanted a yellow house. It’s yellow. It’s on a quiet street and has a fenced in back yard to keep Bailey safe.

What was I going to decide? Right, I need to decide where to buy moving boxes from. I’ll do that Monday. There, I’ve made a decision.

No, that’s wrong, I was going to make a decision to move me towards my main life goals.

Well now my goals include moving and all that entails.

I’ve just taken half a chill pill. My right leg is bouncing like crazy. Bouncing/tapping legs is a symptom of my anxiety.

Focus. Okay, I’ve written this blog. Time to work on another project before things get moving too fast. I have a lot of work to do to meet the goal of my life’s passion. My newest goal is to keep working on my chief aim (main goal), my passion, even as I prepare to move. I start back to school in the fall and I won’t have as much time as I do now. I can’t waste time being paralyzed by excitement and fear of the unknown.

Control. I need to control myself. Yesterday I walked up and down the highway with my heeler Bailey for an hour. After I got the news we went for another walk. I had to put the energy someplace productive. Today my knee is stiff, which is funny because it’s my new knee. I’ve had it replaced twice.

I’m going to put the joy I feel now into my Enthusiasm book. I’m going to make it more an encouragement notebook. I’m using one of those school test books.

If I crash later today, I’m going to look in my book and remember how I feel now.

Oh lord, I’m going to have to deal with my Mother. She’s wonderful but she micro-manages everything. I mean everything, like she’ll call and ask me if I’ve been packing every day. Patience isn’t my strong suit. But, it’s one of the parts of having a pleasing personality, which I want to have, so I need to work on it. I don’t want to scare people away with my moodiness. But a pleasing personality, that’s a post for another day.

Find something wonderful to think about today even if it’s a frog hopping across the yard or your dog finally sitting down when you tell them to. Anything will work. But do try to find something positive to think about.

It’s the trying that counts.

Bipolar – Magnificent Obsession

I believe that I, a person with Bipolar Disorder, can have a definite purpose in life. I believe although I have Bipolar Disorder I can have a main goal for my life and I believe I can reach it. I believe I have the ability to find a magnificent obsession, an overwhelming passion to dedicate my life to.

The illness ate year after year of my life, but now I understand that it doesn’t have to get a free pass to destroying me. I say this although I suffered for years of feeling like I was being ravaged from within. I can remember doing things, thinking things, and feeling emotions that were bipolar even when I was a young teen.

My poor mom. I was a devil to live with growing up. My depression often expressed itself as vicious anger. She tried to help me. She knew something was wrong. Some of the things she tried included counseling, religion, hypnotism, and sending me to live with relatives for the summer hoping that they could get through to me. Nothing helped. I once tried to kill my brother by bouncing on his chest till he turned purple. I only stopped because I knew that I would get in trouble if I actually killed him.

I knew something was terribly wrong with me. In high school I started actively searching to help myself I started going to church and there began chasing hard after God for the next 25 years. During my most devoted years I attended a Bible college and earned a bachelor’s degree.

Still, I suffered.

Many of my symptoms of bipolar disorder presented looking very much like sin. I couldn’t stop being bipolar and I couldn’t stop the “sinning”. No one knew I was sick and even if they had, I don’t believe they had the tools to help me. At one point some of the missionary staff tried to cast demons out of me.

Years later when I was a single mom and had left religion far behind me I no longer felt like a condemned sinner. Having that weight lifted off my shoulders did a lot to enable me to get out from under some of the self-created depression and condemnation. I had been obsessed with trying to stop sinning and all I succeeded in doing was make my condition worse.

I suffered and slowly died inside as I impacted my three young children with the violence of my inner turmoil. I said things, I threw things… I did a lot of things I wish they had never experienced.

I learned about success teacher Tony Robbins on an infomercial and began on my quest to be successful. I hoped that “success” would give me the strength to not give in to the urges of my illness. I thought that if I could be successful, I could be in control of myself. If people could use these principles to get rich, maybe I could use them to be successful in controlling my bipolar. I ordered the material he was selling and set to work enthusiastically doing the 30-day program.

Something amazing happened to me while I was going through the program: I learned how to think before I reacted and I learned I could preserver when I failed and I could try again. I learned to never accept defeat. I learned I could choose how I wanted to behave and I could actually behave that way. I was able to change the way I thought about myself, who I was and what my future might hold. I learned to have hope.

I’ve worked for years to follow certain success principles. I’d go for long periods of time when I forgot about them especially when I was depressed. The illness is still with me, my companion for life.

Today, I believe I’m successful. I’m doing what I love every day. I’ve taken the additional success materials of Napoleon Hill and Clement Stone and found that I could have a purpose for my life, regardless of who I am, and I found principles to help me achieve it.

These principles help me get up in the morning and do things that I know will fight my depression, my mania and all that lay between so that I can function and keep chasing my goals and be successful. I refuse to lose to my illness. I may have setbacks when the illness does overtake me and I will tell you that for many years I lost the fight against it and realistically I will probably have times when I feel I’ve lost to it in the future. Right now, I’m taking my life back. That’s why I blog. It is one way I’m taking back my life back.

I still have to take chill pills daily along with all my other meds. I’m not anywhere near perfect or even functioning at my best. But, when the hill has been climbed and I’m back among the living I still have my purpose to drive me. I’d like to say it’s a reason I get up in the mornings, but I’m not there yet. Yet.

I have a magnificent obsession I’m focused upon. I have goals and dreams that I am working on so that they will come true. I believe I can be even more successful than I can possibly understand today.

I have Bipolar Disorder and I’m amazing.