The other side of the glass

I remembered that I really don't like pink that much. I liked the design but it was just too pink and hurt my eyes invoking a tiny bit of nausea whenever I'd return to my blog. So I had to change my blog background.

Probably if I was really cool I'd create my own thing, but I'm not. So I pick from what is already available and that works just fine for me. There is always something that goes well with "Am I crazy" anyway.

So though I don't love the one I picked and it does not seem to be super reader friendly I picked it anyway because it reminded me of a time (not so long ago) when I felt very detached from life. I had explained it to my doctor as feeling like I was watching life through a window or from the other side of the glass.

I'll probably change it again soon.

the realities of life

On another note. I miss my brother. The suicide aspect is a bigger struggle for me now then the first year. It may be because my mind and chemistry is straightened out enough that I am no longer relating so well.
I feel angry about it. It is helpful to know that is a normal and expected stage of grieving... considering my delayed development I may be angry at the forces that be for awhile.
Mostly I am sad, extremely sad about it.
I miss him and I hate knowing that he is not coming back. My heart aches because of how he died and that it was at his own hand.
I am having to face that it was not just a bad dream. I went through an extended period where I must have been half awake and half asleep because it really did seem like just a bad dream. I am pretty sure in my awake life; if it was just a bad dream then my asleep life would confirm as I dreamed about this bad dream that really wasn't so... I know, it's confusing.

But reality sinks further and further in. And my eyes well with tears often as I realize this new reality. I am so sad that I do not get to see him for the rest of my life. I am sad that even the dreams of him have become few and far between. They may just be dreams but it is always nice to see him. I was allowed a dream of him the other night... I woke myself up I was so excited to see him and hug him. I was sobbing as I woke and lost that moment.

I don't want to forget my brother...
I don't want him to get farther and farther away.

"I like munnee"

I like to write.
I find it to be a good outlet.
Sometimes I write big ol' long e-mails. Sometimes they are answered and sometimes not. I am ok with either (usually) because I like to write anyway.

Sometimes I write random notes here and there.
Sometimes I write in journals
and sometimes on the computer like it's a journal.
I jot down ideas and epiphanies in random places to better hold on to them.

I like to read.
I sometimes like to read the things that I wrote.
I can see in the things that I wrote how I was feeling and who I was at the time of my writing.
I like to read the level me writings just fine. Sometimes they are interesting and sometimes dumb but they are easy and sometimes fun to read.
Sometimes my writings are very down and depressing. Sometimes they are angry or dark. I don't mind reading those. It often helps me feel good about where I am and the progress I have made. I can enjoy and appreciate life more knowing that I am not down like that.
Then there are the overly excited happy or anxious writings... The up writings (a bit of a manic undertone... or would it be overtone?)
I can't even make myself read those.
They are incredibly embarrassing... Though I find it hard to destroy or dispose of writings or pictures (it just feels wrong) I do occasionally throw those out in a thousand tiny pieces or even burn them.
...
And yet I felt so hyper, happy, obsessed, excited, spiritual and/or alive when I would have written such things.
...
That is all I have to say about that.
Except that sometimes I am an idiot and I hope that people can be patient. Maybe even understanding.

huh? (is it God versus mania)

So I don't write so much lately. That would be due to the fact that I am now officially pretty darn boring. My smiles are week and my eyes hardly glow when I want to radiate that smile that helps people realize they are some one special. My angry reactions are mild and easy to recover from. And that intensity that people can't help but see written all over my face is seldom there and only a blush of a transcript when it is there. I hardly have any good stories to tell or much to talk about at all other then the weather, my jobs and the kids.
... so I am boring I guess, although very busy.

Now I hope that I don't sound to disappointed because the reality is that I am pretty darn OK with it. I've said it before and I will say it again, It is a fair trade off.

I feel rather stable and sane. I might even be kind of normal.

But still at times it is a struggle to figure out what is what.
And today I am really only writing for a hurting friend from a forum (I still think everyone should be friends, at least in some form).

The forum subject mentioned is titled "Is it God... or is it Mania"

I recently googled bipolar and religion (though I do not claim bipolar, my Dr. is treating me for that but he has yet to officially "diagnose" me with anything... Which is probably why I like him so well. I hate diagnoses and have done much to avoid such things. Things are going well so really, truly there is no need.)
Back to my point. I googled the afformentioned because my most recent struggles have been with religion.
I care not to mention my religious affiliations, but I am seriously at a loss, once again trying to "figure" that whole thing out... again.
I am not so sure what I believe or what I should believe. God is no longer speaking to me and when He was I was going crazy (literally). I don't feel those spiritual highs and eternal truth of understandings but I can't entirely discredit the "light and knowledge" I was inspired with. I find that when I really start trying to "understand" it all (especially in regards to doctrines of religion) I start feeling pretty crappy about a lot of things and there is so much confusion that it almost always turns to frustration. It is not my lack of intelligence that causes this. I do in fact understand that one plus one equals two. Rather it is likely due to one plus one not always equaling two in some religious aspects and literature's (and that is not just in my current religion) as well as the idea that that is all now due to a lack of faith.
SO when God is speaking I am crazy and when he is not I am not good enough or not doing/being good enough as well as lacking in faith.

I dare not let my thoughts delve to deeply. I'd hate to undermine the current balance of medication and chemistry that I am so happy with. The balance that allows me the liberty of restricting my thoughts. Though depth has attracted me some attention, it is at a price and I am just not willing to pay that at this time in my life. Sometimes I wonder if that is "right." According to much of what I have been taught it is not and there in lies the perpetuation of the problem.

In summary. I have no idea who God really is and sometimes I am not sure if I want to know. However, I see absolutely no point in NOT believing in God and that can be explained if you wish but not now. I believe strongly and solidly in being good and having high standards and values. I see the importance of those very traditional core "family values" and I in no way wish to deviate from those. I would also like to see more of it in the world and I am quite confident if people would stop letting go of those and get back to some solid (old fashioned) values then we would have a much happier world. For that I am confident that religion is a good thing. But where do I draw the line and how do I know what the real answer to my prayers are?


What has been me and what has been God?
Well now, this turned into some rather guarded confessions of my heart.
Good night Big Big World of the Web.

This is a response that I gave on a forum I found online awhile ago. I did not publish then because I do not like to label myself as bipolar especially since, as I have stated before, I have gone to great lengths to NOT be "diagnosed" (even if it is just that the Dr. I see knows that I don't want it so he won't outright say it)
But anyway here it is:

"I just googled bipolar and religion because I am going through very similar to what you are (or were) going through. I wanted to know if that was normal.
It is nice to hear that I am not alone. I am glad you posted.
It gets hard when some serious instability has some religious/spiritual roots. Stabilized on medication I no longer have the spiritual highs and divine inspirations/understandings that I once did, sometimes I miss it, but I also do not drop into the depths of Hell either. So I also tend to relate it all to mania. It is hard for me to know how much religion has played a role in that, especially being born and raised in a very strict religion that has extremely high expectations of it's members (not that that is "bad" it just has been a struggle for me personally in dealing with a disorder that I don't want to accept anyway).
It is hard to know what God wants of me.

I have also found some comfort in Buddhism, coming across it before medication this last time, but I to can still see links to that and some manic issues.

I am having some serious aversion and I am actively involved in my religion. Sometimes I find myself thinking "they are all a bunch of crazies" and yet I can't deny the good that being raised with high moral standards has been, which I know have helped me and saved me from a lot of pain (especially being mental the way that I am).
Anyway, I guess my point is that I appreciate your question and your own concerns. I also appreciate the comments that people shared, especially manic faith.

So I relate to your aversion, only since I have stayed actively involved in my church I am just finding it harder and harder to keep going. I just want to break away for awhile and try to come to terms with what I feel and not with all things that are swimming in my head of what others feel and believe and their convictions and fears... and yet my whole life I have been taught how dangerous that is so I am wracked with turmoil. But at least with the help of medication it is tolerable and I likely will not go "crazy" thinking about. I guess I just need to decide what is right for me right now and be OK with that. Who knows what the future holds.
I also agree it is not "all bad" but rather there is a lot of good maybe it is just hard to find the balance (especially coming from such an imbalanced state).
So thanks again and good luck to you."

suicidal default 101

It's one of those mornings. So many thoughts have been swimming around in my head that I'd like to write about but I just can't find the time. Plus I am a bit unorganized and chaotic...
And today when I feel such a pressing desire to write I can't think of the things that I really wanted to write about anyway.
So I'll just start writing.
...The other day I was chatting (on-line) with an old high school friend. Conversation came around to my mentioning that my brother had died of a mental illness (I still don't know how I feel about that term). The friend asked "how's that?"
Now I was chatting online which means I could not really read the question or the friends understanding of what I had just said, but the particular wording later got me thinking.
"How's that"
I think that it is likely what many don't know or understand that a mental illness or even disorders can be fatal, can actually be the cause of death.
Totally a hard concept to wrap ones brain around.
But when I think of my friends from high school who lost their dad in a very dramatic and tragic suicide. When I think of my friend who I worked with when my brother died and her dad that committed suicide when she was very young. And especially when I think about my brother I know that though technically it was their own hand that would have been the cause of death that their physical chemistry was the cause more then anything else.

My brother was a good person (and the other two men mentioned). He loved life even though he despised it. He was loving, kind and generous. He was so fun and very intelligent. But he had a suicidal default that is not "normal" and, just like a cancer that is not being treated, can only be fought for so long. We don't know who gives up and who gives into death when fighting an illness but many die from things that are not considered major or serious illness's, while some "fight" for a lifetime (or what we culturally and socially accept as a lifetime and a fight).
However in such cases chemistry/physiology over whelm either the body or the soul or both and it is time to let go. In a sense Pain trumps. And with a suicidal default (I believe I have previously written  a definition to that self coined term) one can easily commit a fatal offense with out really meaning to "kill them self."

Here is one silly little simple personal example that I can give (and I may have given before) about how an out of whack chemistry that seems to cause said default can cause a fatality.
Once, just a couple of years ago, I was driving along the freeway while my beautiful little mind was racing through my newest brilliant life plan. But it was not just formulating a plan of how to achieve a goal that my mind insisted on working through but imagining the course of my whole life in addition. When I got to the end, which took a matter of seconds to maybe a couple of minutes at the most (racing minds work quick), BAM I was done and slamming my high speed car into the cement barriers on the side of the freeway was a flash that was almost overwhelming in the quickness and intensity of such a delusion.
I didn't, but I have experienced varying degrees of intensity and dellusion (I am sure most people have really), but had my chemistry been that much more off I could have easily and instinctively responded to the demand before I realized what I was doing and where I really was.
I was not down and there are many fortunate things to my situation but a suicidal default is something that can over ride the sensible systems and truly has to be attributed to a screwed up chemistry. Because, seriously, it is just stupid to think that under a healthy and properly functioning brain chemistry my body and mind would do that to me. Wait, they don't, when I am on an even keel. Which as of recent, has once again, had to be achieved with the assistance from the miracles of modern medicine. But I do know first hand the reality of the chemical difference.

Long post, I know, and I don't know that it makes any sense at all but I suppose I occasionally feel the need to defend my brother because we all knew (he had even promised us) that despite his intense and prolonged struggles with a suicidal default he would never do that.
P.S.
I don't think we realized how intense his struggle really was until he passed and then read his journal. There, it is very apparent that it was not just depression or a fascination with death but a default and a constant struggle, likely the only thing that made any real sense to him.

Which came 1st the chicken or the egg?

???