the circle of... life?... or is it madness

I am in a bit of an obsessive cycle, trying not to "solve this" while trying to solve this mess. Why did I break and why do I want so desperately to talk to my Dr. Perri Cherie? this may just turn into a very disjointed connected post but I'll let it be whatever it decides to be and whatever it turns itself into. I wasn't going to mention Dr. Cherie, I meant to focus on the repeats of patterns I am seeing as I have been reading through some previous posts.
I was going to come on here to say I think it is very likely that the head injury I suffered really is what has effected my mood stability so much. It took me a very long time to figure out how to stabilize my moods, how to utilize my neuroplasticity, and how to concurrently cope with the variety of other atypicals of my life, and over all I had reached a balance. It was maybe not the most healthy balance and there were definitely problems with the craftsmanship but I had at very least stabilized the major mood and insanity issues. Until I took another blow to the head.
It upset my stability. Knocked it out of balance again.
But this time, being older and wiser, having the luxury of a little more time on my hands, knowing the trials I had faced far too alone the first time and the major time, I was determined to put myself back to together with correctly guided professional help. So I sought out the best, which is more challenging than you realize when your brain is a mess and your emotions are out of whack. The very reason I needed good help are exact problems that make it challenging to find good help. But with some help, and exhausted determination (which means it takes more time) I found and continue to find good help. My vestibular therapist was amazing and I was seriously sad to leave her when it was time to be done. My chiropractor did such a good job with me and offered some emotional support so I likely stayed there too long but moved on easily, shutting that door when I realized this. But still they were the support I needed. I tried a few places that weren't a good fit. I had a few doctors that blew me off or just didn't want to be involved. Those likely contributed to my overlooking of symptoms, like my ankle that will actually require surgery if I ever hope to have it heal. Sometimes it was discouraging but I kept on looking as I knew I wasn't put back together right and I want to be. Along the way I was directed to not only a good psychologist but the best neuropsychologist in the area for head trauma related issues. Maybe I am bias, but I quickly saw how knowledgable he is and how good he really is at his job. He had the ability to help me; not only to help me put myself back together but to put myself together better then I had ever been. He was a dream come true, the reward to much effort, and the answer to many years of prayers. But something happened... I was too much and not enough at the same time. Too much crafted over too many years maybe, not enough obvious injury maybe? I am not sure. Yet I am sure I could ramble on and on about the endless possibilities and because I can do that I will likely hit on some truths along the way but I really would rather not. But something happened and I am not sure what or why.
So I am searching myself for answers and I am finding some repeat patterns. I am glad I have this forgotten blog to refer back to. It is helpful. Yet, I also know that I am very different. I have grown and matured a lot from some things I read while others I am still very much the same, but mostly I had become more of a balanced version of all of it, except that I maybe had lost a bit too much of my insanity. Or I had believed that I had. There are parts of me that I just need to embrace and accept better. I need to be okay with my perfectly imperfect self. Dr. Perri Cherie was teaching me that and how to, and constructively. Or at least that is what I thought. I was blocked and stubborn at times I am sure, but I also was protecting. Not me so much as him. I feel I am repeating myself now and am losing track of where I intended to go with my writing today... But I committed to letting it be whatever it turned out to be so if I am ruminating I suppose that is what needs to be, for a moment... And I will accept that so that I can move on. I am at times a slow processor but on that note, why would I be hard on myself for that when repetition and practice is how we learn? But repetition in the lonely brain is rumination and "counterproductive." Is it? Buddha says to question everything, and as one who often does I know that this can be exhausting and you then can become a black hole of knowledge. SO... This is why I crave talking to Perri Cherie so desperately. He had answers and he knew how to work with me and how to work me. Even if he was playing with me, I didn't mind because I like play and good things happen when we are allowed to play... But I never really thought or felt that he was playing with me in any way that was "inappropriate" or whatever and I still don't think it because I am "very intuitive" and I do sense those things... though I tend to be naive too, as I don't see myself as a threat or temptation to anyones moral integrity.
So I am really rambling and letting my thoughts work there way out. It feels neutral and safe inside of me at the moment so I will believe it is healthy. When I keep too much inside that is when things go off in unhealthy directions, when my head starts really getting screwed up, and when I really get stuck. So I will let this nonsense continue to flow and foolishly publish for the whole world to see because I know they won't anyway and I am allowed to be human, I am allowed to make mistakes, I am allowed to be me, and I am allowed to be free.
Dr. Perri is not allowed to be free and I am sad for him. I wish he would talk to me because I know he can still help me and I know that I could help him also. But that does not matter as I am allowed no influence there. That is a restriction that really bothers me. But it is. It is that restriction that seems to cause my brain to repeat some of the unhealthy patterns. But maybe it is that restriction that protects us both? I am open to that idea but I think it is wrong. It will take some convincing before I can believe it. I think it is wrong because it undermines me and the progress I have made. I think it is wrong because there are often exceptions to the rules and there are so many things that make this feel like an exception, but I don't like where my thoughts are going now, because it causes pain, so I will redirect.
hmmm... what were my original intentions. Oh yeah. Why did I break? Because I was already broken. because I was working so hard to hold broken pieces together when a lovely person who was also working to hold his broken pieces together bumped into me, or did I bump into him?.. I don't know, probably doesn't matter. But as broken pieces fell I think some of his broken pieces got mixed into mine as I tried to pick them up.
Poor man, he was so kind as he tried to help and to make sure I left with all my pieces, but in his startled rush he sent me off with some of his as well. I wonder if he realizes that he hasn't got all of his broken pieces now?
(This makes me laugh.
But still this story wants to keep going)
And though he tried to help me collect all of my pieces some of my pieces likely scattered into the nooks and crannies of his office where they are now lost from me forever.
His cleaning people will likely clean my pieces from his space and they will be out with the trash, forever forgotten by all but me.
I hope I will not need them. I feel like I do. But maybe I can put me back together with out them. Or maybe I will throw all my pieces out and start over.
I will not throw his pieces out though. I like the way they shine and I will keep them just in case he ever decides he needs/wants them back. It might be best to lock them out of sight and mind because I find their colors so mesmerizing and I wish to duplicate them when I cannot because I don't have the full formula. ...and as I think this I realize that because he does, he likely won't even need his pieces back... Oh what a lovely mystery he is. But I will keep them anyway, maybe to study and see if I can figure out the formula.
...But if I'd like to study them I suppose I will need to go to school and become a wizard myself and then I can pull these sorcerer's stones out when I have the correct wizarding guidance to study them; otherwise they may just cause me trouble.

...well now, that ended far more strangely than I expected. But it makes me laugh so there you go. I'll edit later... So who then am I posting for? I ask myself. I don't know, myself and anyone who cares to read me? why not just leave it unposted? umm.. because whats the fun in that? and besides the only way to truly fail is it never try, or to never put yourself out there in the first place.
and this is out there

Itally

12/13/18 12:32 am Italian time
Italy is a bit like me.
It is crowded, full of people and old ideas and new ideas.
It is new and scary but old and traditional.
It is full of roundabouts.
…So many roundabouts
It is plain but beautiful.
It has mountains of adventure and oceans of mystery.
It is fast moving but slow to evolve.
It's full of carefully crafted but not always intentionally crafted things
and naturally beautiful things.
It has passion and energy but feels calm and collected.
And all of this has to live cohesively in one small nation.

It is exciting to be here and scary at the same time but I feel calm and at home as I usually do when I love myself enough to let me be me.
It is hard to communicate but that is nothing new. People think and do things differently than I am used to but that is a reality for me no matter where I am. I am not afraid of the people here because I don’t understand them exactly and they don’t understand me.
It is easier here to see that for what it is.
It may cause some discomfort, and some people will not be open to helping or being friendly, but that is okay because it is hard. However with those who are friendly and do try to help it is so nice and such an awesome experience as we get to participate in humanity at it’s best:
Despite language barriers, cultural and even racial differences people can find a way to connect and share warmth and friendship with each other.
It is a beautiful thing and part of why I love to travel. While some parts are hard and intimidating -and sleep is definitely disrupted- it is such an incredible adventure that will open your heart and your mind to new and beautiful ways of being if you embrace it for all that it is and allow it to.
I love Italy already and I am very glad to be here.

It is the healing journey of independence after the one with friends that in many ways broke us.

I need to write this out, before we leave.
On Sept. 21st 2017, I was in a car accident. The timing was interesting, the scenario was interesting. But the most interesting part was being hit in the head by an airbag.
I remember seeing the lady that was about to crash into me much too late to do anything about it because my attention had been on a car that was moving faster than the others. That is where I felt a threat was coming from. but then oh, where the heck did that car come from. I still don't recall. I don't recall seeing her at the intersection. At least not communicating to me that she intended to go in a direction that threatened the safety of my crossing. But mostly I don't remember. As I saw her I knew "this is going to be bad" because I was gunning it in an Acura TL (they have awesome get up and go) and barely had time to get my foot halfway onto the break and I was fearing a side impact from the car that was coming at me faster then expected. Then every thing went black. Then I am stopped, by the other car and my face and arm hurt so bad and I am trying to understand where I am and what just happened. I see the other car I see my airbag, I hurt really bad, but I am okay. I am miraculously okay. I am shaking as I instinctively check to make sure we are out of harms way and I find my phone and dial 911. I am crying. Not a historical cry but a confused and disoriented crying. As I open the broken door and step out I feel so weird. Everything feels off and my right side feels taller than my left. I am limping but I don't know why because they only thing that really hurts is my face and my arm, and they hurt so bad I am sure that something is broken, I will lose teeth from it, and that I will be black and blue and look terrible for days. "Everything went black, but I did not go unconscious" I repeat to the police officer. I am an emotional mess. Disoriented and confused. the thread that had been holding my mental health together pulled out right down to the end.
I wish to report this beautifully and crafted with artistry but I lack time so I may skip and jump but there are important things here. I don't feel I have fully processed what happen and my Dr. Perri Cherrie (name changed to protect privacy) who understands this from the professional and psychological side, who could give me answers, is no longer available for me. We talked about this a little but I was slow to process and share and I likely have forgotten some of what I had shared.
But so many things I felt and experienced in the coming months were familiar. "I've been here before" "I've gone through this before" It made me realize how much the head injury from my youth had impacted me through my formidable teen years.
I remember feeling my brain rerouting as the sports medicine Dr. who works with concussions asked me questions. I remember black when he asked me to recall the words. I couldn't. With clues, I was able to retrieve them, but only because I had experience with this, I already knew tricks and there were times that my thoughts were even more clear, like how a person can walk on a broken leg or lift a car when there is danger and they must protect. I asked the first doctor I went to the day of the accident about concussion, I was confused disoriented and pathetic, and my head was my biggest concern I didn't want to lose any more brain power and stability. He pretty much blew me off and was more interested in my husbands thumb he had fixed the month before. He x-rayed my arm and shoulder and gave me eye drops, and said every thing looked good and that was they end of that. But even still my left wrist is weaker and will begin to shake if I hold it in certain positions or use it too much. It never did that before.
But my head was my biggest concern. The next day my husband texted his sister a picture of the car. She made comments back that hurt my feelings a bit but triggered an immature emotional reaction and feelings that I had worked through long ago. I had been brought back to an emotional place with my-sister-in-law that neither of us were in anymore. It took me a bit to realize it, and not before I am sure I did a bit of unintentional damage to the relationship first. "I've been here before."
I wrote as so much flooded back when Dr. Cherie caught me off guard with his expectation that I come in no more or at least not for a long time and only if I get "hung up" on something. In that writing I wrote about my 12 year old head injury and the mistakes that were made in my care and as I wrote I faced the feeling I have had but have not been able to express, the feeling that tells me that I didn't go completely unconscious in the car accident, because I had been there before, my body had learned and my instinct knew that I had to wake up quick because deep down inside I knew the only one looking out for me, the only one that could protect me, was me. I had to wake up, I had to be okay. That may have not been the best thing to do in terms of getting the help I need, but it is what is it and I may never know.
I will end here because I have to fly... Literally to Italy. No time to even edit but I'll do that later.

Where to Begin... Again and Again

Published elsewhere on 10/10/18

So I find myself going in some silly circles or something like that... actually it is more like starting down paths then shying away and ducking into the trees or an ally way to avoid seeing the people I have been walking with turn and walk away. ...And yet I am aware that for every person that has turned [their] back there is (likely), at least, one other that figured I had; and they gave up waiting for me as I hid in the trees or ally way fearful that their rest or deviation meant they were turning their back. It's silly, I know, but it is.

... there is so much more going into our actions then we ever fully know. It is so easy to make assumptions about other peoples actions but those assumptions are based on our own interpretations which our based on our experiences, not theirs. And it goes both ways.

Sometimes being aware can be difficult. I suppose that is why they say "ignorance is bliss."

Yet, while I could philosophically ramble on for ever -I'm sure-, I would like this rambling to help me work through, what seems to be, some mental blocks so I can get back on the track I feel so compelled to be on.

Writing often helps. and strangely enough, publishing these pointless ramblings also tends to help me. I think it is something like talking through your feelings, only I am talking them through with myself in a place that feels safe, people can take or leave it without me seeing their reactions and I can speak with that hope of actually hitting a cord with someone; reaching another person that relates and/or feels helped, inspired or enlightened in someway. The internet is interesting in that way, it connects us while taking us away from people. I think that is why we need to be especially careful with it... but that is a rambling for someone else or some other time.

Today I'd like to focus my work-through-it rambles on why it is so hard to start something that has so much potential, is needed, has been well received in conversations and could really help so many people? Why is it so difficult to get myself organized and my thoughts put down on paper? again, there are so many reasons for that... but one thing I feel that continues to trip me up is not my lack of confidence in myself but others lack of confidence in me. As I try to write, put things together, move forward, etc. I think of how I can prove what I am doing how I can help those people see that it is not me they need to have confidence in but the idea that they had very warmly and excitedly received. I think how I can change what I need to change about the idea, myself or whatever it is to improve both myself and the project I am passionate about. Because I value other people I have to acknowledge that there is a reason for their lack of confidence in me but the irony of this is this often leads me to hide in those trees or duck in those ally ways as I subconsciously try to protect the scars I feel are not fully healed ...and thus justify their lack of confidence further perpetuating my short comings. And I get stuck.

Partly because I don't actually know -and I know that I don't really know- where I, or the idea's of the project, went wrong. Then communication looks something like this: I am afraid to ask and in the event that I do people are often afraid to answer honestly and they either say "it's not you, it's me" or in one such event "it's all you." Obviously neither are entirely true, neither are very helpful from a professional stand point, and, I suppose, I am still short on professionalism because I am not entirely sure how to handle these situations and I do take it somewhat personally, even when I think I don't.

If I take me and my shortcomings out of the equation, or if I were my friend and not myself I might point out that we live in a culture where you are largely expected to be "self-made." Also people have been conditioned to stick with what is safe and avoid taking risks. I might also point out that people are so busy and they have so much going on, [which is part of/contributors to problems I am trying to solve] so I need to keep going and know that it is not personal. I might also point out to my friend self that some of the exact problems I am facing are part of why there is such a need for what I am trying to do.

So maybe it is okay to step back. to take a new approach and to start again knowing that this may be the time I get it right or it may not. but what matters most is that I know, in myself, what I am trying to do is true to what I value.

And I value people, whether or not I feel they value me, because, at least from my stuck, I have learned that my feelings may just be my perception of the truth

​...and even if it is someone else's truth (that I am of little value), that matters very little because, quite frankly, they are wrong. :)

Fires and flowers.

This is hard... I forgot to leave myself the 20% reserve today... I forgot or just had too much to do.

Over all it was an amazing day. I got to teach my daughters friend how to snowboard. I got to comfort her through a tear-filled melt down when she got frustrated with how hard it was and was putting too much pressure on herself to live up to her dad's percieved expectations. Then I even had the privilege of opening the door for a bonding moment with her dad by having a talk with him about what were realistic expectations in this new learning experience. Her dad was great. I was pleased with the outcome and that I had the privilege of being involved.

Then on my way out I somehow got talking with a coworker who opened up about some similar issues. She was intrigued by how I had embraced my insanity. I admitted to her that up until very recently I thought I didn't really have a laugh. My laugh had been missing for so long I thought I genuinely didn't have one. Not that I never laughed but it was just a silent inside kind of laugh that was easily missed. We talked about anxiety and we bonded and though I had plenty to get home for it was a very good place to be and it felt good to have that bonding moment and once again be thanked for my insight. There was plenty more in the day, but those were major highlights.

And then to top it all off we got to go to my parents for dinner...

But I had spent over 80% of my energy... well over,

and I started to unravel a bit, far too early into the evening and I found myself awkwardly fighting back tears for no apparent reason at all while passively participating in pleasantries with my husband and my parents.

How do I phase out what is reminding me to take care of myself? It is so hard sometimes. And it hurts. I am sure I will cycle through this a few times before I make it out okay

but tonight I am wondering why I reacted so extremely to the breakup my therapist said I should have seen coming. Why do I feel he was careless with me? I am so sad that I have to let him go and that I am no longer allowed to utilize him when I know he has answers and knowledge I am missing. When I know he can help if he would. I am so sad that he will not be my... anything.

I feel sorry for "overreacting" or what ever I did wrong to mess this up.

I am sure it is for the best if he says so and truly I don't want to be a complication or liability to him... ...but maybe I do. and maybe he is wrong.

It just doesn't feel fair.

and I don't feel up to grieving this lose right now.

But as my thoughts try to turn to my old ways of tough love and negative self take for being so pathetic, I am now consciously making the decision "ta not ta;" not to put myself down for feeling down and once again confused by this. So I will keep my pathetic self pity here in print and embrace that for what it is too... a sadness and grieving that I have every right to feel and even to express. I won't wallow in it and I'll get some sleep and get it turned around again, but I believe it is okay to feel the sad and to allow myself to hurt. And I think it is okay for me to be patient with myself. It is not easy to separate the fires... and it hurts, which is not terribly surprising since fire is hot and separating them will inevitably lead to a few burn scars.

"Your mind is a garden

Where you decide which ideas to grow

and which thoughts to weed out."

What to do when your therapist dumps you

This a snippet from my report of my own self discovery, I wrote it as an outward reflection in hopes of someday helping others if they ever find themselves in a similar situation.

I read a few articles that were extremely helpful for me, but there were very few, so I decided to publish this here as a way to pay it forward, to connect with my values today, and to honor both myself and my therapist I'd like to pass this info on sooner rather that later ...because I know how painful it can be and if I can help to relieve any suffering I am happy to. I'd like no one to go through these feelings alone, because you are not alone and you are loved more than you know.

6:56am
If your therapist dumps you and you liked them at all, even the smallest at all, then you need to realize that means they are at least good at wearing their mirrored therapist mask and it was you that you were seeing and liking. I hope that you can feel empowered by that. Now no sugar coating but; Yep, your screwed up, and yes, you have things to work on, But you have also seen a version of you that you can connect with, that you liked and that you can even love.

You liked you, not just your therapist.

You are worth liking and even loving. By accepting that part of you and all parts of you and then by choosing to be teachable, you can reach the best version of you; that version of you that you have hope of obtaining (I know you have that hope, and even the ability, or you would not have gone to therapy in the first place -and you would not be reading this at all).

No matter what reason he/she abandoned, rejected, or dumbed you it doesn’t really matter and no matter what he/she tells you, you will never be satisfied with their answer if you did not feel prepared for it, or if it caught you off guard.

But you can find comfort in knowing and trusting -if you liked them at all, even in the tiniest way- that:

1. you do like/love yourself and you can, - your even allowed to,

2. the therapist is good at their job even if they make mistakes, and

3. it proves two things;

a. you are worth loving and

b. your therapist has more faith in you than you know and they know you will be okay.

So choose to be okay and find a new therapist going in with an open heart and an open mind, agreeing to be teachable and knowing that you can change and you are on the right track, or that you can succeed, become a better you, be happy, manage your symptoms or whatever it is you are looking to get out of therapy. You can do it and you are worth it.

The crash... or a weakened battery to grieve?

If you cross a crow with a toad and a mouse it would sound something like I did today. As my body has worn thin from lack of sleep I have developed some sort of cold or sinus infection that is now attempting to steal my voice. You'd think I'd talk less because of it but I find it so funny sounding I may be talking far too much.
Fortunately for me they do not care to have toad-crow-mouse crosses teaching snowboard lessons at my Neverland (the resort I teach snowboard lessons at) so I got to back line. Which means you are the first one let off for the day if they don't need all of the instructors staffed.
So I didn't have to teach but since one of my favorite supervisors to clinic with was working  I asked if we could do a short clinic before I returned home to rest my body and prep for Italy. (* clinic meaning they take you on runs to work on teaching skills and technique)
Said clinician is very technical and his teaching style encourages you to think and solve.
We only got one run in but it was jam backed with review and technique work and reflection. I thought to do another run on my own, just for fun, but since mortality has returned to me in the form of this sickness I thought I best save my strength and return home.
I was feeling it. I was tired. And to be honest I was a bit relieved to finally be feeling tired. My heart isn't hurting anymore and I am no longer worried that I am going to morph into some alternative existences as I fight to stay okay. I am okay again just the expected tired. Still improved but tired. So I started to head home
And man was the tired starting to get to me.
I was so tired that before I even got out of the canyon I had to pull over just to close my eyes for a minute or two. I pulled over and turned the car off but it was cold so I turned the key back to the on position to keep the seat warmer working. I was asleep almost instantly.
In a little bit, not fully awake, I thought I better turn the car back on so I don't kill the battery so I turned the key... "What? it's already dead?"
How could that be? Over 45 minutes had passed. I thought it had been about 5 maybe 10. Holy crap I was tired. Much as I am now so I am going to sleep and will finish this in the morning.
It is now the next morning, after sleeping with only the aid of melatonin this time. I woke 3 times but was able to gently redirect my thoughts to places that would allow me to fall back asleep within a reasonable amount of time, since they were not full-blown-lights-all-on-(in the head) and heart-pushing-me-out wakings.
But 45 minutes I slept and while my car battery slowly died. I have so much to get done that I could have been mad about this but anger is not my emotions these days, what good does that do anyway. Besides it was funny and rather poetic that my crash would start in a car.
It may not be the crash, but I will let it be if it will let me.
However one thing had me wondering: is it the more cognitively demanding task coupled with body fatigue that brought me to a tired that was so intense I had to pull over and sleep only 5 miles from home?
Am I really going to have to grieve a loss of mental stamina?

Mourning the Loss of your Insanity

When normal starts to return it is a little sad.
Losing your insanity is a bit sad.
Yes you read that correct if you read "losing your insanity"-let me explain:
When you start to return to normalcy you miss the sensations and the fun and excitement of it all, it is really quite intense. There can be a lot of pain and anxiety and maybe the mania I experience is just coping with those feelings with equivalent force.
I tell you, I would be fascinating to study... maybe that is why I have been studying my thoughts and analyzing myself so much through this... I bet there is some sort of disorder associated with that to (that makes me laugh)
which is probably why I have always avoided diagnosis... I'd get too many or not enough but mostly because I don't like the stigma's and discriminations attached to them.
And because I don't like how people use them as excuses.
And probably a whole lot of other reasons to that I don't really care about right now
so back to my point.
Coming back to reality is a bit sad. Maybe even -wait for it- depressing. Maybe that is why "depression always follows mania" according to Am I Bipolar on webbed.com.
It feels a bit silly that I find myself here again.
...The box he opened contained so much more than I remembered...
But anyway
Reality kind of sucks compared to spirit animals and omens; to feeling so full of energy and life that you might burst; to snowboarding being an almost orgasmic experience and floating in a pool at night is so other worldly that you never want to leave. I wish I were a better writer when I try to explain the intensity of joy, passion and pleasure my seemingly simple experiences bring when I am ... well.. I suppose I should call it what it is, manic.
Is that acceptance on my part? Am I allowed to say that? I do wish that I had my best therapist to help me answer these questions... But alas he is gone from me...I'll have to mourn that loss again and again and that really sucks but I have to put as many mournful realizations as I can off for now and because he promised not to close the door on me completely I can. ..."just don't look back to check" I tell myself. But there is a new sad to that loss with this new remembering/realizing/considering. It is sad to think that this may very well be what scared him away and that it is also very likely a contributing factor to the intensity of my feelings for him these past few weeks... It's another thing to mourn and to process. and it is sad and it can be embarrassing.
...But fortunately a great guru I once knew taught me that it is okay to make mistakes and that I am allowed to be human... to bad that guru is the same guy, do you see how there can be no clean break... pull the fuel, redirect, don't isolate and don't over think- so I move on again- as it slowly morphs into just my heart speaking and my mind is a garden where I choose which thoughts to grow and which to weed out...

Back again to the mania.
I can see how people can get addicted to drugs. I'd love to go back to mania -only without the equivalent level heartbreaking. Good thing I am smart and know what lies on the other side of drugs and I am not at all interested in that place.
Fortunately for me, during those pivotal years when people usually experiment with those things, I wouldn't touch it because I knew I was already screwed up enough; I didn't need help with that.
And I still think that is funny.
Right now I am not sure I am completely back to normal, I kind of hope I never am, but I am not crashed yet and I find myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, I will be able to curb the effects of the crash the way I was able to curb the effects of the mania. I hope so. And I think so and at least one person believes in me and that is enough for me.

*So it seems I am moving my book of thoughts, processing and reprocessing to my blog.
It feels like a worthwhile endeavor for me. And as I earlier read through some old comments I was glad that I had helped a couple of people along the way -by sharing. I do not advertise this blog and don't do anything to promote it so it is buried pretty deep, I'm sure, but on one occasion someone randomly came across it and thanked me for it. That is enough for me. They are worth it for me. and I am also worth it so I've already got one person I'm helping here :) Your welcome self.

A page from my book: waking from death

12/2/18 10:28 pm


He doesn’t seem to notice that I am in some sort of trance. I see the rice crispy treats and see him and somehow instinctively know that I need to eat one and give up on the new me, give up on the me staying sane and safe.

This feels important

Important to add to my story even in spite of the internet not working.

I am not sure why it is but I am awake now. I feel a little funny. Still a little detached but here and present.

I woke up about 10:18pm.

I woke up from the abyss of nothingness. From death or nonexistence. I have been here before. I used to wake up from death in depression and it is a very unpleasant feeling. This time is different, “I am dying” My body is fighting to hold on. To wake me up. I don’t understand it as I come to but I keep fighting to wake up. My throat is dry and scratchy feeling. It wants to keep me from breathing. I notice that Kelby is still not in bed and that I hear noises. I am pushing hard to come back to life. I don’t want to give up. As I wake I somehow instinctively start to check on things. I feel so strange as I leave my bed and walk into the hall. I am still hearing the voice saying that I am dying, except I am not; I can’t be because I am walking and seeing and hearing again even if It is the sound of the blood pumping through my head. I go down stairs to the sameness. I ask Kelby about the kids being in bed. As he is watching television he doesn’t seem to notice that Joe is not and that I am asking from a different state of existence.

This is proving a bit more challenging to write and explain and I may still be waking as I hear the white background noises inside my head. But I am mostly wide awake.

I took 2 nighttime Ibuprofen pm tablets before bed and I may have forgot my escitalopram because I was so tired and my throat was starting to hurt so bad thus I was merely focused on getting a good night's sleep. This alone may account for whatever happened, the death waking

As I looked up and down the stairs feeling so weird and out of it, knowing that I needed sleep but also afraid to die, I had to make a decision. I decided I had to return to “normal” so I took a rice crispy treat then went and curled up next to Kelby with my head on his shoulder to watch the show “Schitt’s Creek” It was funny but I was lost so I asked a few questions from the other side. Much like usual Kelby barely noticed me and I started to wax and wane comfortably in and out of sleep. I then knew I needed to write about this although I wasn’t sure why. Add it to my story and with that I fully woke and I left.

Now I am sitting in bed wondering what it all means. Wondering if I will be okay leaving in one week and a day. I will because I have to be… But is that enough to keep me there? I need sleep so badly that my body is starting to get sick and yet I still can’t seem to sleep and to do so now offers death?

I have cold water and Ricola’s with me now and yet I question taking the Lexapro (generic)

A little unsure if I had already taken one.

43 lexapro left after I just took one, or one more, but at least now if I forget again, I have it written down.

Pandora's broken box

6:19
I took 1mg of Clonazepam at 8:30 pm last night and still couldn't get to sleep until about 10:00. I slept good until around 12-12:30 am and woke up to myself talking it through with Kelby. I am proud of myself this time. I really am the professional on the other side of this profession. So knowing that and now better understanding, remembering and having learned from the formally trained professionals (this time it was the lovely lady doctor I went to today) I am now new me and old me and prepared me. All very well educated in the taking care of me. I take another Clonazepam (.5mg) and 1 and 1/2 of  3mg melatonin. It still takes me a little bit to fall asleep but now my thoughts are carefree and seemingly meaningless. Now and again some part of this experience pops into my head but it is weakened in its power and I easily shift back to my thoughts of sugar plum children dancing or whatever it was only this time I slept all the way until 6:00 am.
Progress
I do feel a little funny now. But it's not anything I haven't faced before. It may be a longer more intense race but I am still a runner and I've been a runner and training for a very long time.
I've got this.
Though I do wonder if this most recent head injury has contributed. For that it would be nice to have the professional yang to my yin. But oh well I guess. I'll have to find someone to help me figure out and fix that box when we return home.
Postpone the crash: :) yay. I am kind excited about this new adventure.

Let's just call it what it is

When you haven't slept for more than 2-4 hours at a time for 3 weeks you know your body is not going to hold up for ever. You know their is going to be a crash. When your heart has literally and physically hurt for 3 weeks you start to feel yourself wearing thin. Now I am getting sick, trying to keep a cold at bay, Airborne, Ricola, water, tea, whatever you can to try and stay well. But still your heart is broken and your brain is in hyperdrive trying to process what happened and any new bit of information just starts a new cycle of analyzing.
He said not to try and solve this, not to over think things. That is very good advice, and I keep trying to refocus but then something else pops uninvited into my head. This is so very complicated and I can see why he would not want to have anything to do with me. It is a recurring theme confirming my knowledge that I am too much. I complicate things too much and I am hard to be around.
I am returning to old thinking patterns... It is why I couldn't loose him but I have lost him and it is because of all of those things. Can't blame him, can't blame any of them.
But it sucks and its shit
I went to the doctor today because I need to make sure my heart really is ok, and I need to be well for our trip but mostly because I need to sleep. As I went through the process of explaining everything (and I will be grossly oversimplifying this story) I started to realize another reality I had packed away,  but taking a new form, a much better form... No wait? Is this better or is this terrifying?
The omens
the symbolism
the way everything connected
dreams
"have you had hallucinations?" asks the nurse... "maybe," is all I can say as I think of the feelings and sensations, the thousands of lives lived in days.
The book that is somehow writing itself
the laughing
the energy
no need for food
the spirit animals
the connections...

"I just worry about what you will be like two weeks from now," says my husband about 2 weeks ago.
The doctor asks if I have ever been diagnosed with bipolar... I honestly don't know
I kind avoid labels and diagnosis. Is this something I need to face? I suppose there are some similarities.

Thank God I have worked so hard to figure myself out and to solve me because -congratulations self You just walked yourself through- (by definition) a manic episode... and what problem have I been trying to solve this whole time, deep down inside knowing I only have myself to rely on?
The Crash
I want to prevent the crash, especially since I have never experienced anything quite like this before. My heart has never hurt for three weeks straight... except for maybe when my brother died. But especially I have never felt so much pain, peace, and excitement all a the same time or anything like this before... at least not that I can remember.
"I have complete faith in you," he says
I hope his faith holds as I keep turning logs away from the fire that so badly desires continued life.
I hope the doctors recommendations for sleep works
but I am still not asleep
and I am so tired
this is very confusing

Body Language

As I was trying to explain; to help him feel more comfortable with acknowledging what we both already knew, but that I needed to hear to know that I had no logical reason to question my sanity and stability I found myself grounded by body language as I looked at his feet. Then I noticed something even more fascinating, mine mirrored his exactly. His right, my left were pointed directly at each other, his left and my right were angled about 30 degrees off to the side at equal proportions of an open stance. It was really funny as I remember reading that the feet -and especially the lead foot- point in the direction the person wants to go. So the desired direction was apparent but there was obviously the other direction that things maybe needed to head also.

Later he had his legs crossed, but both feet very forward facing, which also happened to be pointing to exactly where I was sitting. I felt I was either weakening or strengthening his resolve to close himself off to me completely and I did not want to intentionally do either, so it was time to say goodbye (for now) but at least I knew that he really was sincere in the things he had said and that he really could not allow himself to be “vulnerable” with me because his heart had in fact been touched as much as he could handle and allow at this point in his life and under the circumstances. And I can work with that. I can leave him because I love him and I do not want to break him.
We both have plenty of love in our lives. His job was to help me see that. I hope that I can keep him in my heart, he said I could, and continue to love myself and others with the steadfast commitment that he taught me by being who he is. He is steadfast and deeply committed to his job, his values, and his kids. I would not wish to destroy that in a million years; instead I can learn from it and let it be exactly what it is and what it needs to be.

A teacher does not teach by what they say, they teach by how they live.

A dying light...

12/4/18
1:36am after laying awake for 45 minutes confident that I would fall back asleep naturally, I gave up and decided I’d better write it out should I ever hope to get back to sleep.

I am thinking on his advice about not feeding the fire… Letting it burn out. It is a very sad but beautiful analogy and I envision sitting under a starry night sky watching a campfire slowly burning out the last little bits of wood; red glowing embers eventually cooling and fading into black. Now and again a piece of missed fuel will ignite causing a temporary flame to spark back to life but only for a moment... soon choked out by the lack of new fuel. When all the fuel is burned to embers, for awhile, there is always a low intense flame that is almost invisible. It is the hottest moment in the fires life.
The whole process is truly beautiful and mysterious and I think the analogy is very fitting.

But as a camper watching the fire die you have to make a decision: Do I sit and watch it die slowly until it is all the way out? Do I push and stir all the remaining fuel into the core heat in order to burn any missed fuel pockets so that it burns out more quickly and the risk of something reigniting while it is unattended is minimal? Do I poor water on it and stir to make sure it is completely out for the time being? Or do I just leave it to burn itself out believing that there is no risk of it causing a wildfire?

The decision made will be influenced by time and location. Sometimes we are tired or impatient so we put it out quickly leaving little bits of fuel for the next fire. Sometimes we have the luxury of being able to sit and savor every last moment of it; feeling the cold calculatingly creep into our body as the fire fades away. And sometimes, when we believe we are in enough of a windless desert that there seems no risk of igniting anything outside of the fire pit, we just leave it to do its thing.

Right now my mind is watching the fire die and it is the bittersweet end to an adventure filled day…

Dear Perri and All Other Therapists

I did get the chance to talk with him, one last time, though he did refuse to be my therapist any longer which is a little sad because he really is the best and I will miss him. But still I know he is right. I do feel like I got the closure I needed and now I can continue to let go... That does make me a bit sad but my heart has settled some and thinking it causes no added surges of cortisol, so that is good.
Progress.

I was able to say a whole lot in a short period of time and I feel better knowing that I was able to clarify a few things and help him to see that he really didn't know me so well as he thought. I am the other side to the profession, I have as much experience or more, just from the other side of the mask. Through the process of learning, trying and growing for so many years I have picked up a lot and had unknowingly created my own reflective mask. ...And to further complicate myself I thought I was transparent. It's comical really.
But there were a couple of things I didn't have the chance to say. I am not sure if he will remember that I told him about this blog or if he will remember the web address or if he will ever allow himself to check it out anyway but I'd like to say it for my own sake and for the sake of anyone else who may stumble across this.
First, and this is a little silly, I was bummed I didn't get to tell the story of my shirt. I got it in Lisbon the day we returned home from our Spain and Portugal bike trip. Because we had weird vibes with the friends we had originally come with, Trump had just been elected president, and it's basically the story of my life; it made me laugh so hard I had to buy it. It reads: "The future will be definitely confusing."
It always will be but that doesn't bother me. I enjoy the adventure. So it fits for me and it was so fitting for the situation. Though I knew I had to move on I could not bear him shutting me out completely. I am fine with things being what they are and whatever they need to be. I can leave him alone because I love him and respect him but I still need him to be part of me for awhile longer and the goodbye forever is more than I can physically handle right now.
Which transitions perfectly into my next missed topic of discussion. Though I had told him that my heart had been physically hurting for the past 3 weeks I did not get to ask him about it -get his professional thoughts on that. And I especially wanted to ask if he knew anything about waking up from death... More on that later but I had intended to ask today if he could explain the physiology of what was going on with me since it was starting to take a physical toll.
It turns out there is such a thing as "broken heart syndrome" where all the extra cortisol from stress causes physical heart problems and can lead to cardiac arrest of some sort. I had no idea until I looked it up this evening since I still feel a little week in the heart. But no time and no more time to write tonight either,
but therapists be advised; 
if you have a client/patient that you know is forming an attachment to you please be very careful in how you break that bond, it really can cause physical harm.
But even more important: thank you for helping me to write that very transcendent chapter of my life.

Reprocessing: so much to do... so little time

11/30/2018
2:24 am

I am thinking on reprocessing as I become semi-conscious through the natural cycles of sleep. It wakes me completely as I recognize that these thoughts are new, and they are forward moving in the direction I wish to head. I know that I will not go back to sleep easily now because my mind will not easily give up the processing of them and I make a quick and decisive decision to get them out now, as they are coming, so that I may return to sleep -the very thing I need- quicker… and as I type this I remember that even going to sleep I recognized that I was not likely to sleep well since I was feeling certain emotions before I went to sleep. Not terribly overwhelming, but emotions that needed to be felt and a very natural part of the “grieving process.” Emotions that I am familiar enough with to know that they would affect my sleep.

In addition to those loss and grieving emotions (before I went to sleep) I was thinking on how he just let me go. How, somehow, in my mind I felt a switch from him that I did not see coming, at least not like that and not just then. I knew therapy would have to end with him and I had scheduled appointments for the next four weeks in a row when I realized that I needed to get this therapy stuff done so I could move on and not grow so attached to him. An ironic paradox. It really did seem to me that the moment I started to utilize him as just my therapist is the moment he turned on me and this was so confusing to me. And my research confirmed that this was confusing. I now long to talk with him human to human, preferably friend to friend, but even if he can’t be friends with me for a moment to resolve this, I hope and so intensely desire that he can at least talk real person to real person with me, without the walls, without the masks, and outside of his confining office where his Jedi mind tricks would not have power over me and he would be less tempted to use them.

The new thoughts that are attached to the old thoughts that I know... I need guidance in reprocessing if I am going to do it correctly… or at least more productively and heading down the happier healthier path that (therapist) had started me on. The paths in my thinking that I had become excited about ...and grown quite fond of.

These are the new thoughts that are coming. Something feels different about this time. “It’s not an uncommon theme with me,” I say, “ I fall in love with just about everyone, but this is a little different, you are something special.”

…-it’s not a sexual thing...maybe I needed to add that?

I have so many things that I need to reprocess that I do not want this to be another one. But it is confusing to me, as I see repeats in my patterns that I believed he would have seen, been aware of, and sensitive to as my therapist and as “the best.” I know that he is going through some personal stuff, I sensed that, and I am aware that this could have thrown him off his game… but why would that happen ...especially to me? With me? Why the timing? It was far too familiar of a pattern so I came to questioning myself and at the same time wondering if I could believe anything he had said and that I had felt. Wondering if my perceptions were so completely off. Questioning. And feeling like a fraud in both my sanity and insanity again. A very challenging thinking trap to escape. His actions seemed to confirm everything I hated about myself; the mysteries of myself that everyone else hated about me too but would not tell me (so I could fix them.) I had been here before, but this time is different. I am gaining ground. Making progress and I will not let my mistakes or someone else’s mistakes, real, projected, reflected or perceived derail me this time. I AM more solid and I WILL make it through and I AM finding my power to do that.

So, and this is what woke me up, the new thought in this process, the thought that I knew could keep me on my path to full healing and my full potential:

“I can admit that I am wrong.”

I want to be able to compartmentalize and store my thoughts, hurts and experiences more effectively and efficiently so that I can live the best and most productive version of myself. There is more to my story than he knows (so much more), whether I was hiding it from him -very well- or whether he failed to see it doesn’t matter so much as I know that he does have the knowledge and training that fits my scenario and he knows how to direct me -he really is very good. I know deep down inside that he can still be helpful for me with this if he is willing to.

My pride says "No! since I told him I would not see him again as my therapist." My ego says no because “you don’t even know what the truth is and what is the lie with him.” But my heart says "it will hurt no matter how you see him again but forward movement is what you need and you are going to continue to love him either way, besides it might be good for him as well." And my logical brain says, "umm yeah, admitting that you are wrong and utilizing his skills to help you in the right direction of reprocessing this is a good idea even if it does mean you have to admit you were wrong about coming to see him as your therapist again and even if it is painful for either of you. It is paradoxically a step in the direction of becoming that person you have been working so hard on becoming for so long."

It is now 3:21 am and I feel like I have gotten it all out -I hope I have as I’d like to go back to sleep. “How are you sleeping?” He would ask regularly … because he knows that I am going to be extra sensitive to not getting enough sleep.

I broke my therapist

It's been awhile. I had been working so diligently to create my illusion that I almost had myself convinced.
And this morning, at 5 am, I believe in my realization that I had my neuropsychologist convinced.
It's such a funny irony, paradox, hypocrisy whatever and a million other things that I have struggled so much with my sanity, to keep it in check, and yet somehow I feel neither here nor there in the land of crazy and the sane. I can't accept that I am *crazy and I can't accept that I am sane -as if I am perfectly at home as a fraud in both spaces.  (*have any type of medical diagnosable mental illness)

I somehow have the ability to look at myself scientifically and rationally even when chemicals are raging through my system and there are mystical signs and omens at work on me. I don't know that I always recognize it as well as I think I do, but I do a pretty damn good job.
My therapist, who I had been seeing for several months, has been helping me to uncover my buried story, bring it to the surface, and to learn to accept and love my perfectly imperfect self.
I had my story so far buried I had forgotten why I had buried it; how I had gotten to that point. I figured I was just there to deal with PTSD from a car accident, that involved a concussion, thus it also meant dealing with the head injury of my youth, which seemed to be contributing to the problems I was having while offering reliving style memories and feelings from my teen years that I was not realizing were in fact head injury related and that I had been left to handle alone.
There are so many ironies, repeats and parallels in this
That is probably why the spirit animals came into play.
I do in fact need some other worldly comforting.
But back on track. I was also aware of recent painful experiences with friends and an employer. I do certainly scare people, but my therapist didn't believe I was scary; because I had him fooled.
Yesterday I remembered my blog.
I revisited you (blog) it's been years and I have to say it is a bit sad that it lacked sharing of some of the happier sides of my beautiful crazy life.
Ironically I feel it easier to share the depression stuff, I think it is safer to share and I often look back with embarrassment at the other. ...and I allow my self to digress again ... but back on track
You see the problem is that I fell in love with my therapist. It is not an uncommon theme with me, I fall in love with most people and it's not a sexual thing, it's just love. But because it is coming from me or is channeled through me it is a deep and intense love that I struggle to handle myself. Forget expecting other people to handle it.
What if you saw God, or Jesus, how would that effect you?
This is a deep confession and not where I expected to go with this, but I am going to let it continue, because my box is broken, my therapist is broken and I am tired of hiding, it never felt quite right when my parents told me it was something I should not share freely.
I wasn't crazy then. I didn't even have a damaged brain. I was a young child and it was a dream, but as sure as I was that I was alive and human, that my parents were my parents and that anything tangible really existed I knew that I had seen Jesus. I knew it because I had felt his love. A love so intense and so powerful that it changed me, it shined out of my little blue eyes as I proclaimed to my mom "I saw Jesus." It shined out even without me talking about it.
As an adult, as a teen, I questioned it, questioned if it was just a dream. I often tried to tell myself that it was just a dream, but that was a destructive lie.
When I was around 17, in a religious studies class, in order to illustrate some point, my teacher carelessly asked for a raise of hands from anyone who had ever seen Jesus; In that moment I became the damned as I tried to convince myself that it had merely been a dream despite the fact that I knew better. It likely scarred me more deeply than I know. I had just denied seeing God.
This was not what I came on to write about, but sometimes it is best to stopping fighting with ourselves and our egos and just go with the flow.
And  just like that my mind is empty again. Ready to go back to sleep.