introducing Bart, one of my best friends

Bart is one of those people that I have complete trust in and will say anything to regardless of the amount of time that passes between us talking/hanging out. we've been friends since...well, my mom used to babysit him and his sisters when we were in elementary school, so there ya go.

we were talking last night about our respective mental health issues, and he sent me this text:

"Dang. Idk if this is any help but you being bipolar doesn't change the fact that you're carrie and you're a great person that's incredibly fun to be around. just because you have something a doctor told you doesn't change that. I know it sounds corny, but you're a good person and as far as I can tell hat hasn't changed. I think as long as you remember the things and people you love...I don't think there's a drug that can take that from you. for whatever that's worth. I can't speak for what a drug will do, but if you keep what you love, I don't feel like you can lose. You just have to make a choice to make the best of whatever you're dealt. I know that probably sounds ridiculously hard at this point...but as cliche as it sounds if you just focus on the little things, the big things will take care of themselves. might sound stupid, but I really think that if you keep focused on who you are and what makes you carrie, you'll be fine."

I thanked him for being grounding. and for helping me slowly pull myself together. mostly I just want to keep a record of what he said to me, so I posted it here.

back to my knitting.

fragility

I don't know how to be this fragile person. This weepy, flaky, horrible person who can't control the temper she spent so many years getting in check. all of that work for nothing. I feel like all of the things I have done to better myself in the last 10 years have been for naught. I don't know how to react to not knowing who I am. I've never felt like that before.

I don't know how to react to my anger and frustration with myself for not having the patience to see what happens with this new medication. I don't know how to pretend that I have the patience.

I don't know how to be this person. because I'm not fragile. I worked hard to leave my unreasonable anger in the past. I have so much strength, but somewhere it was lost, leaving me drinking the dregs. I've been awake since 11am yesterday but I feel too wound up to sleep.

I want myself back.

Please.

don't watch "Precious"

I can't breathe.

tonight is hard. the pain in my calves is distracting in the best way, though.

the science of selling yourself short

I'm in love with John Henry. not only does he have incredible physical strength, but he understands what it is like to have nothing and he firmly believes in the power and knowledge of people over that of machines.

I'm also in love with Harrison Bergeron. he also has incredible physical and mental strength, but he is moody and willful and angry. I think he reminds me a little bit of myself, minus the physical strength thing.

watching "Breakfast at Tiffany's" in a movie theater is fantastic

I feel horribly lost today. drowning in my head. I don't know if I can handle all of the time it will take to balance out. I have good physical balance and I would happily give it up if it meant I could be mentally balanced instead.

I'm fighting an internal conflict. one side is glad I'm on medication, excited for the day when it will all kick in and I will snap out of it. the other side is angry and confused, wondering why I'm putting more chemicals into my body, freaking out about side effects, crying because I'm never going to be the same person again, scared that the drugs will make my personality flat. logically, of course, I'm siding with the former. or at least I'm trying to.

why don't I have a counselor yet? that will be priority numero uno for tomorrow.

today my brother turned 20

Dear Catwoman,

I just found a poem I wrote about you, dated 12/27/10.

Apples

I know a woman powered by breath
who lives off words and whiskey and
apples she collects like men.
coon skulls and plastic feet map out points on a grid with no mathematical function
except a dance with a mustache in a sweater vest

sometimes my head is spinning
but I come home to deer in my front yard who watch me
climb from my car and up the porch steps without darting away
and I know she is watching me

 I miss you.

Love,
Carrie

cardinal directions

this week was awful.

I feel like I have no words anymore, you know? like everything I have ever said is the summation of everything I ever will say. I'm never going to learn much more than I already know and I'm not going to grow any more. my mind is freezing as my body gets older. I will fight it.

Thursday I went to see my shrink for a med check. SURPRISE! I'm bipolar. it's not really a surprise, I guess - just an overwhelming explanation for the last few years of my life. over the last two days a desire to apologize to everyone has been building up in my head. an "I'm sorry if I flaked/freaked out/fucked up somehow and here's why" kind of deal. but I just keep telling myself that being bipolar is a reason, not an excuse. massive difference. and if I'm bipolar, then I'm going to try and embrace it, because any other course of action would quite possibly be even more detrimental to my mental health.

I talked to my mom on the phone for a little while yesterday and she was asking me all kinda of questions about being bipolar. somehow we ended up on the topic of my weight - apparently she didn't know that when I was 17 and looked really thin that she used to tell me I looked too skinny and I needed to eat something nearly every day, and that it got to the point where I didn't even want to look in the mirror. She kept denying it, saying that she never had a big concern about my weight except once in the 6th grade when I lost weight because I was overextended. I sent her a message on Facebook with a link attached to some information on bipolar II, and this is the message I got back from her this morning:

"Thanks for the info. Guess I really haven't spent much time around you in the last 4 years or so. I've seen the depression but not mania. Things like overspending and pretentiousness? Anyway, got to thinking about your comments on weight when you were a teen. Dad and I did go through a period of time when we were concerned about you having an eating disorder. Didn't realize it carried over into my interactions w/you. You have probably noticed I don't really have comforting words when it comes to bad things in a person's life. Just not good w/that stuff; even for my own children. Its hard being imperfect and not wanting to be. Let me know how I can support you. I just know there are plenty of people out there w/bipolar that are having great lives. I know a couple. I always think of you as strong enough to handle what life throws at you, but if you need something, please ask."

 It hasn't been until recently that I am finding out just how highly my mother thinks of me.

I always hoped my life wouldn't be this kind of hard. I need a compass.