Homemade Mocha, Part II

People look at me and my life and think I'm just not trying very hard - that I'm overly privileged because I can just drop everything and stay cooped up in my house. But they don't realise that every single day of my life is a struggle just to stay alive. If it weren't for my fighting spirit, I feel as though my body would've just given up and I'd have faded from existence a long time ago. But no, my spirit keeps me going, driving me from one day to the other in hopes that I might be able to climb back up out of the hole I fell into and just live! I'm still here because of hope and because of those little moments like with the homemade mocha. All of the little things culminate into something great that keeps me going.

Depression can be defined in its most simplistic form as pressing down on something or someone. Depression is a pressure or force on the body and the mind, which can be caused by both external and internal sources. But, ironically, an atmospheric depression seems to release this pressure, making the weight on my shoulders seem to vanish. That feeling is so pivotal because of its antithetical nature to my depression. I welcome the storms. I embrace and love the storms - especially that peaceful moment just before. I may not be able to access that wonderful, powerful, amazing part of my mind anymore, but I feel that - one day - I'll be able to dig and dig deep enough that it'll come bursting out. And it is hope that makes me believe - a force greater than the forces of nature. Hope is the driving force of humanity, and it has gotten me this far. If I give up on hope, now, it'll be like swimming half-way and then turning back.

I once nearly drowned. I was just four or five years old. Most people think that drowning would be extremely scary, but I don't think that. As the water filled my lungs, I quickly began to lose oxygen to my brain. This caused me to begin to fall into a very dreamy state. I didn't feel any kind of pain and can't even remember pain. The process was amazingly fast. I may have struggled at first, as anyone would, but I don't really remember that part, either. What I remember most was this amazing peacefulness I felt. Everything started to become dark and my eyes began to close, the sunlight above refracting into the pool water. I stopped thinking - I wasn't really in a conscious state, but I was still oddly aware. I saw a humanoid shadow block out the sun and start to come to me when everything went dark. Moments later, I was wide awake, chlorinated water spewing out one horrible cough at a time.

I know I was terrified, especially afterward. I had trouble learning to swim for years and years afterward, completely petrified of water that merely went higher than my nose, let alone truly deep water. But I also had a growing fascination with water. Some of the most peaceful moments in life come from the most tragic of moments. Sometimes, horror breeds purity and calm. I think this is how some of my deepest depressions were; I would have some of the calmest, most tranquil moments when I was the most depressed and hit the rockiest of bottoms. I'd watch the sun rise and let life hand me the self-therapy I needed so direly. Seeing the quiet, lovely nature that somehow manages to survive amongst all of the asphalt and concrete, when cars aren't driving about and people aren't yet awake, and the world is still for a brief period, I could find peace.

I've never really been able to find true meaningfulness in life without crashing badly. Steady moods were stagnant and unproductive. Highs were more delusional, temporary, and empty. But those lingering lows that took so long to climb out of were like trials for my soul to bring about enlightenment. And when I'd rise, I'd rise a little taller. Depression tempers the soul into a finer, sharper steel, wrought out of the blackest, most brittle iron. It's a very difficult process, and takes its toll time after time, but it always imparts something a little greater.

Wellbutrin, Wonders or Worries?

I recently got on Wellbutrin, an atypical anti-depressant, for my bipolar depression. It usually works within the first one or two weeks, and - right around the start of week two - I started to notice effects fitting of Wellbutrin. Apparently, Wellbutrin can cause hypersomnia (lengthier nighttime sleeping, more daytime sleepiness and/or sleeping, and such), and one study I read said that it was most prevalent within the first month of use. Well, guess what! I started sleeping for 12 hours a day rather uncontrollably. And then, when I wake, before I know it, my mouth is flapping uncontrollably, exhausting mom just from having to listen to me talk! Hmm... think the hypomania's acting up! Wellbutrin is supposed to have a decreased incidence of this in bipolar patience in comparison to other anti-depressants, but I'm always the exception to the rule, it seems. It's also supposed to have a decreased incidence of '(hypo)manic switching,' switching being a term that refers to suddenly and quickly switching from one mood (e.g. depression) to another (e.g. mania.) In some people, the switching can seem almost instantaneous. Well, I've noticed a little of that, too - from sudden bouts of depression and loneliness to equally sudden bouts of hypomania.

Now, Wellbutrin is supposed to also be able to help with ADHD. To what extent, I'm not completely certain. If it has helped, I'd probably need a pair of outside eyes to weigh in, as the hypomanic moods and quick shifts of lethargy and depression have somewhat occupied all of my cranial space. I did just recently score an 86 on a scale that ends at '70 and above' for ADHD, but that was apparently given lifelong experiences, especially in adulthood (since I really just reached that, I included all of my teen years in the considerations.) I have noticed that I can keep on a topic when talking a little better - spewing out words a hundred at a time, but usually still on topic. It's hard to tell anything else, though, when manic symptoms and ADHD symptoms overlap so much and are so similar, so obviously during a manic episode, what's causing what will appear a bit vague and ambiguous. I have, however, stated to my NP on more than one occasion that I want to maintain my mood somewhere around hypomanic and level, though that might take much more of a toll on those around me than on myself.

On the plus side, I have been getting that extra energy boost I've been wanting, but then again, at what cost? Sleeping for an average of 12 hours - effectively taking half of my day away - makes there a lot less time to utilise that energy. While I have gotten some more things done in that time - even though my current tasks have been relatively irrelevant to life - perhaps just balancing it out. I have had less pain in the time the Wellbutrin seemed to have started to kick in, which could incidentally be a result of the hypomania and increased dopamine from the Wellbutrin. I've actually been able to get little workouts in for almost every day in the past week, which is definitely a plus, and might allow me to eventually work back to the point of being able to climb a single flight of stairs without feeling out of breath! Or to walk around Walmart for a little while without feeling like killing myself just to make the pain go away - especially in my joints. My NP actually asked if I had osteoporosis from how inactive I've been! I'm quite certain that would be some ways down the way, though.

So to list the pros and cons of Wellbutrin as of week three (week two since it kicked in)....

Pros: Overall elevated mood, shorter episodes of depression, increased energy, possible decrease of ADHD symptoms (though that's yet to really be confirmed), hypomania

Cons: More mood 'switching,' sleeping for 12 hours at a time, possibility of worse panicking (yet to be seen, though), hypomania

And yes, hypomania went into both categories.

Painful Pane of Glass

Have you ever watched yourself as you were commandeered?
Have you ever felt that you were on the sideline of your own life?
Have you ever, have you ever watched through that painful pane of glass?
Have you ever felt you weren’t you, and no longer in control?

Like a horrible flood, or a slaughter for blood.
Like a big horrid storm that’s become the new norm.
Like a sick psychopath making a big, big blood bath.
Like a volcanic ash cloud that seems to swallow the ground.

Have you ever seen yourself commit suicide, or try and try?
Have you ever seen yourself beat so to shit by your very own fists?
Have you ever seen yourself tear up the ground and swallow your loved ones whole?
Have you ever felt you weren’t you, and no longer in control?

I cry in the corner, not sure of myself, not sure of what I am.
I try to hold it all in so you cannot see, you can’t see me for me.
Like a werewolf at night, I turn and tear up the living nearby.
I’m a vampire in bloodlust, draining you for all of your trust.

Like a horrible flood, or a slaughter for blood.
Like a big horrid storm that’s become the new norm.
Like a sick psychopath making a big, big blood bath.
Like a volcanic ash cloud that seems to swallow the ground.

Have you ever fallen out of yourself, like you died and your soul had departed?
Have you ever watched yourself tear down everything you ever loved?
Have you ever felt your own heart ripped out by your very own hand?
Have you ever felt you weren’t you, and no longer in control?

Sometimes I just want it to end, even if it meant I’d just die.
Sometimes I’m so sick of myself, I don’t want to show my face.
Sometimes I think I’d be better of buried and out of your life.
Sometimes I just cannot see anything else but strife.

Have you ever felt you weren’t you, and no longer in control?

Progress, or Hindrance?

For the online game I've been playing, I wanted to address an issue in the forum and propose a possible fix. In the game, you can invade a neighboring empire and plunder any one of their buildings every 24 hours as long as you can breach their defences. Naturally, the stronger players in each neighborhood decimate the weaker players and try to take their most valuable things. These valuable things are necessary to make progress in the game. Many players have been complaining for some time about the plundering option, and even leaving the game entirely, while - of course - mostly the dominant, higher ranked players are just calling the sufferers whiners. Many of these stronger players seemingly devote their lives to the game and will breach a neighbors defences and then wait up to the allotted 24-hour window to plunder that neighbor when they're best producers are done producing! People who can't play so obsessively and constantly obviously have to have larger periods of being offline before they can come back and collect their stuff. Each player can choose various lengths of time for producing from anywhere between just 5 minutes at a time to 48 hours! The longer period you choose, the more stuff you get at the time of collecting (though if you could be there to collect every 5 minutes, it would be drastically more efficient than every 4, 8, 24, or 48 hours; that's just not realistic for many people, or probably most people.)

My person experience from being on the wrong end of plundering has obviously colored my views on the subject, for if I were a much more successful fighter and plunderer, I obviously wouldn't be trying to 'fix' the plundering system to limit my plundering abilities in any way - but this isn't a bad thing. See, I've been through the game's forums and I've seen argument after argument for both sides and took both sides into heavy consideration. Some people wanted to only limit the plundering so that those who are being plundered get only a benefit and those plundering get only a limitation. I don't agree with - the 'fix' shouldn't purely help one and hinder another. Others have quite bluntly said that people who get plundered should just 'get used to it,' also not a viable option. The game specifically lays it out so that you can focus on military might, trading, or something in between, but because of the plundering option, it's much harder to be a trader or something in-between when you aren't strong enough to defend yourself, retaliate, or plunder, and they're taking your only real means to progressing in the game.

Some people have gotten it much worse than me, having it seem like a whole neighborhood is ganging up on them at once - as many as 79 other players! This is brutal and completely decimates that player's ability to progress in the game. Now, here's the big thing - it's an online game, so it should be able to be played by a wide range of people. Making it so that only a select, elite group of people can play a MASSIVELY MULTIPLAYER ONLINE (MMO) GAME is ridiculous! Also, it's a free game, but people who spend money on extras (particular diamonds, which can be used to progress in absolutely every aspect of the game) get such a clear advantage that - even when they should be at the same level as another player - they can essentially rule whole neighborhoods of 79 other players. I've heard an argument that every MMO is like this, but every MMO I've ever played in the past let players be able to keep to themselves and go at their own pace without any real problems. One MMO that I've played over the course of a several years, I've been absent most of the time. Do I feel like I've lost the ability to play, like other players are going to murder me when I sleep or am offline, or like I'm 'missing out' because of going at my own, very slow pace? Not at all! I hop back on every once in a while and get to playing as usual. The player(s) who say that every MMO is so competitive obviously has only played MMOs that focus on competition. This game that I'm playing, however - Forge of Empires - is somewhere in-between and made with the clear intention to allow for competition, but also allow for more relaxed players. This isn't how it is in practice, however!

My idea was to add a button on every player's screen so that they can toggle whether or not they want protection from plundering. By getting protection, they sacrifice the ability to fight other players and, consequently, plunder other players. Other players, however, can still attack the people who are protected from plundering, and can gain points for defeating their defending army (default 2 of the lowest ranked military units.) This makes it impossible for players to no longer be able to gain points by battling other players, preserving the core Player-versus-Player aspect of the game, while protecting those who wish to opt out of the competitive part of the game. Now, attacking another player doesn't hurt them at all! If you defeat their defending army, their army is immediately restored and they don't have to worry about being defenceless (can't always say this about the attackers, as any units they lose they have to replace.) So by allowing players protected from plundering to be able to still be attacked, they are completely unaffected, but the players who want to continue fighting other players can continue do so!

There was a point brought up that I had already thought about that if the protection could be toggled at-will, someone might attack and plunder a neighbor and then immediately turn on the protection, making retaliation impossible. Since you can only attack and plunder once every 24 hours, I thought that it would be effective to make it so that the protection option can only be toggled every 48 hours. This makes it so that, if they come out of the protection mode to attack, they are vulnerable for 48 whole hours! If they turn on the protection again after that, then they can no longer attack other enemies for 48 whole hours! It makes it so that toggling it on and off is very inefficient, and thus can't be easily abused. I've seriously looked at this from every angle I can think of - unlike most, single-minded players - to come up with a win-win solution. It allows players to live in harmony without one minority constantly suffering and another minority constantly dominating! Everyone could also then play at their own pace with their own style. For some reason, many people can't see this, especially on the plunderers' side. They think that it would 'completely eliminate' the fighting aspect of the game, when I've distinctly tried to preserve that aspect. Most say that they attack for the points, and plunder as a 'reward' for breaching a person's defences. The thing is, if the person is virtually defenceless, then those people are getting a 'reward' without any real sacrifice, and plundering only hurts one and helps another, unlike all of the other aspects of the game that focus on win-win, or win-neutral situations. Plundering, as it is now, makes the game horribly unbalanced!

Now that I'm finally being able to see things from different perspectives - a trait that doesn't come very naturally to people like me - I'm taking flack for it by people who can't see the situation from different perspectives! It feels terribly unfair. I'm doing my best to come up with a solution that works for everyone, not simply hindering one and helping another, and people are getting mad at me for it! Now it feels like it would be better to be single-minded and fit in with a certain 'group' of people who think the same way than to be devoid of any group of thinkers and take flack from most everyone. I've read just about everywhere that people with bipolar and various other related illnesses need to learn to see from other's perspectives since many of us apparently are lacking in that department, but it appears to me that most people are devoid from being able to see a situation from multiple perspectives. If this is the case, I'm just putting all this effort into learning a trait that no one else actually really shares. It's supposed to be 'helpful and healthy,' but I feel like it's just a disadvantage in one way or another. I thought something better would come from it - a novel, balanced idea that could be appreciated from both sides. But, just as in life, the power-hungry want to remain in power, and the weak want the tormenting to stop, but no one actually does anything about either. Capitalism - a total crock. No wonder so many people hate America! (and any other imposing, power-hungry, dominating country that they aren't a part of.)

Mine Your Grey Matter

I was doing some random research, which tends to yield some of the most interesting finds. The research spanned from the mysteries of the brain to truths about the Mayan Calendar (and subsequently debunking, or at least easing, most suspicions.) But I want to focus on the first part - the brain. Sometime down the line, going from one thread of information to another, I came across a series of articles about emotional processing in the brain. One thing that it brought up that really stuck with me - even though it's actually quite obvious when you think about it - is how memories are what our minds and brains use to reference how we should react to emotions and situations that trigger emotions. For instance, someone who had an ex girlfriend who constantly eyed other men would probably become jealous when their new romantic interest was also eyeing other men. We take previous experiences and apply them to present and future ones, for better or worse.

I have terrible memory - just awful recollecting capabilities. I will do something that is completely emotional charged one day, and then completely forget it the next. Connection? I think there's definitely a possibility. If I can't easily recollect how I went through previous experiences, how am I suppose to learn from them? Sure, some very major events have stuck with me - like the time that I almost drowned... or, rather, the times... my first break-up, my first clear manic episode, when someone I didn't know, but would come to call a dear friend, embraced me when I was extremely depressed... Most of these experiences were bad, and I've forgotten most of the good memories (though, if I can't recall them, were they hardly memories to begin with?) The 'good' in my life is most often recalled by those around me, while I usually draw blanks. This likely caused for me to react to most bad situations with negative emotions that I can recollect, whereas I seem to often react to good situations as if for the first time - like it's some alien, otherworldly event.

Now, sure, I can recollect some of these things to an extent, but it's mostly vague, and it's probably largely because it's surrounded by negative connotations which - like I said before - I seem to hold onto that stuff. When I talk about myself, I very, very seldom talk about, or at least start with, the positive stuff. That takes a lot more time and effort to come up with and decipher. I would say that perhaps my logical, and negative, 'left hemisphere' dominates, but then how would that account for my creativity and abstract ideas? If this could simply be explained by some kind of brain hemisphere dominance, one side would more obviously seem to dominate. I'm also not especially rational (look at all of my anxieties, which are by definition irrational!), and the left side is supposed to be 'rational!' Though, sure, perhaps I can't rationalise because the right side doesn't interpret things for my left side enough... I have found many instances where I have immense difficulty interpreting feelings, situations, philosophy, mathematics, and so on. But I still think that memory is the bigger culprit here.

I also have a lot of trouble learning from past mistakes. After all, if I can't really reference the past situations, how could I learn from them? I make the same mistakes over and over it seems (I mostly know this because other people point it out, or I suddenly recollect after the fact.) Depression has been shown to cause brain cell death, the destruction of synapses, memory troubles, decrease in brain mass, and so on. If this is the case, I can't begin to imagine all of the valuable grey matter I must've lost over the years. Depression leads to potential memory problems, and memory problems lead the trouble regulating emotions. This seems like a very vicious cycle to me. Since I do know that I'm a creature of habit, and fall into bad habits particularly easily, it's not exactly a stretch to think that I might have a bit of trouble getting out of such a vicious cycle. I get myself trapped into vicious cycles all the time! I seem to be a magnet for them.

In summation, memory has been a problem I've been trying to address and figure out how to deal with for some time, now. I've become somewhat of a cliché when it comes to memory problems. You know those 'My Little Reminders'? Well, it's kind of a joke between mom and me that I would need one for the first, another for that one, another for that one, and it pretty much doesn't end until I'm swimming in the things just to remind me of the others! And at that point, there's really no point. Every time I try to come up with a method for remembering things, I forget what that method was! Or forget to follow through. There have been many nights where I almost take my meds twice because I forgot that I took them! And it doesn't help to look at what day the pill bottle says, because I've forgotten what day of the week it is. I'd forget my own birthday if people didn't bring it up for weeks prior.

I'm trying to learn. I'm trying to master my moods, my disorders... but it's really hard to do so when I can't even manage my own memories. I've had many days where I just freaked myself out to a panic at the realisation of just how far my memory problems can really go. I saw my great grandma suffer from dementia for her last years on Earth and think, "Well, I know what's going to happen to me!" Sometimes, it seems like, rather than try to fight and overcome the memory problems, I just prepare myself for the 'inevitable' downfall that is the future to come.

When Anger is Depression

People tend to have a very clear idea of what depression is... but they're probably only somewhat right. Sadness, lethargy, lack of interest... these are some of those symptoms you always hear on commercials for antidepressants, but what do I never hear them say? Anger. Anger is a very common expression of depression, especially in men (who sometimes display most or all of their depression as anger.) I would say that anger is a way of saying that something is clearly wrong, whereas more cliché signs and expressions of depression are usually much more introverted. Anger almost always has an obvious, clear expression, even when it's passive-aggressive.

I would say that about around a quarter of the time that I'm depressed, it eventually turns into anger. I've spent years and years perfecting hiding my depressive episodes, but anger is one thing I can never hide. I can cry when no one's looking and then appear perfectly normal when people are looking, I can get up and out just enough for people to see me and not think I've completely shut down, I smile or even laugh when I'm nervous, awkward, or sad, and - when the feelings are strong and bubbling up while I'm visible, I can usually bury the outward signs deep down when I feel I need to. I go through all of this trouble just so that people don't recognise my depression, but the one thing that I can't hide, people don't even realise is a sign of depression.

One way to differentiate my normal anger from anger caused by depression is that normal anger usually has a justifiable cause, whereas anger caused by depression can be easily triggered from what seems like nothing. If you accidentally run into me while turning around, and I want to rip your head off, that's a sign that I'm depressed. I think that the cause is that I'm already under enough emotional and physical stress. Anyone who's had a long, stressful day will probably understand what it's like to be on an unusually short fuse. When you're stressed from the get-go, the last thing you want is even more stress, so the little things that normally don't set you off can.

With Terry having just died, having heard last year that someone who got me through a really rough time committed suicide, being reminded that great grandma died at almost the same exact time of year as Terry, and having lost my cat and only being to assume that the most likely scenario is that she's dead, along with my general bipolar self, I've been a bit overwhelmed, to say the least, and I'd say that Terry's death just pushed it all overboard for me. I can't get through any tear-jerker moments in shows and movies, or listen to emotionally charged, sad songs without bawling. I can hardly get out of bed anymore sleeping hours and hours after the sun's gone down (albeit that's not as hard during the ends of the year.) My anxieties are on high alert and spotting a spider or earwig just about makes me faint. I'm having some of the worse medicate sleep of the year. My pain has been more persistent and my back and neck have been undyingly stiff. And... I've been angry. My fuse has become extremely short and I go right to the 'I'll rip your head off' state immediately after the smallest little triggers.

I don't want people to feel like they're walking on egg shells around me... but they are. I can't really deny that. If you're going to be around me, be careful. Simple as that. I know it's not easy for most people to pick up on these things, but what I've learned from bipolar is that you have to learn from history. You simply can't just expect a mood, a trigger, a thought process, and so on to be just a one-time thing, nor can you expect it to be solvable just by willing it to go away. Obviously, the intent is not to ultimately just learn to live with it, but rather to learn to deal with the problem before it arises again, but that could take years of intense learning, practice, and therapy. Until then, however, yeah... probably should learn to live with it. Recognising the signs is important for both me and those around me. I'm not at the point where I can really recognise signs until the aftermath, yet, so it's very important for those who can actually maintain a clear head to try and learn to recognise the signs.

Until at least one side can see these things and attempt to nip them in the bud... it might be appropriate to say, 'God have mercy on our souls.'

Homemade Mocha

There's a feeling I get often. It's a very difficult to describe feeling, but I'll try, nonetheless.

Sometimes I feel like when the weather shifts, clouds form, the sun is blotted out, the pressure lowers, and the winds start blowing haphazardly. In the circumstance described, it easily becomes natural chaos, something I've always loved and felt was like home. My migraines, when I was younger, could be cured by strong winds blowing into my face. It was like the stronger the wind, the more able it was to blow the migraine away. It purified my soul at the same time.

Now, the feeling I want to describe is what you feel right before a storm, when everything is still dry, the air is relatively still, and you suddenly smell the oncoming storm. It's a magical and wondrous moment. You feel it in your whole body, in your mind, with every sense at your disposal. That atmospheric low isn't an unpleasant pressure, but it's still noticeable. It actually feels like a lifting of a burden from your body and your soul. There's always a sort of stillness at this moment - a tranquility that doesn't come often enough in most people's lives.

When I was psychotic - having constant, stable visual and auditory hallucinations - I invented a place in my mind that I could escape to. I always described it as a very bland, grey glade, completely surrounded by a treeline. The glade was quite large, probably the size of a football field. There were absolutely no other living creatures around except for some birds in the distant trees. The sky was cloudy and grey, but there was never any rain. The pressure was low - very low - and winds from all directions blew directly at, and converged on, me. I would just stand there and stand there in my mind, letting the winds blow at me as hard as they could and take away all of the stress, all of the worries, all of the voices, all of negative emotions... strip me of everything that clung to me and tried to drag me under, so that all that was left was simplicity and bliss.

Ever since I got on meds, and my psychoses were eventually completely blocked out, I couldn't access this place. I remembered it, but I couldn't access it. While, in my mind, that place had expanded into a vast, unsettled, unknown, untamed world, I always went to the field - that place that started it all - when I was under stress. Now, all of that was taken away. While I certainly wasn't in a good place - hit some of my lowest lows - the only real difference now is that my mind doesn't provide me with company and an escape. I don't have my coping mechanism for the still-recurring depressions and hypo-mania highs. I'm all alone with only a memory of escape.

I'm too afraid to go out into the world, anymore. I watch the storms from behind a window, never going out and enjoying them. The rain that I would once bask in, I simply watch from behind a pane of glass for a little while before going and either pouring media into my eyes or diddle-dawdling on the computer. I may be virtually 'stable,' but I'm lifeless. I may not be quite as risky as I once was, seeking some sort of destruction (not much in the conventional sense of sex and drugs), I may not plummet into as deep of depressions or as hopped up of manias, I may not see things that aren't really there or hear things that aren't really sounded, but that doesn't make me 'healthy' or 'fixed.' No, no, I'm quite far from that.

So, when I get that rare taste of the holiest of lands that I could've ever conjured up in my mind and my soul, where the pressure changed, my burden lifted, and my soul purified, I am in utter ecstasy. I feel all the same feelings I get from my prescription narcotics, only without the backlash. It's pure and wonderful. My brain becomes excited and sedated at the same time, euphoric and dreamy. My body begins to relax and my stresses start to melt away. My breathing becomes smoother and easier, as if each breath is of the cleanest, purest air my lungs would ever taste. For just a short time, I'm 'fixed,' I'm 'healed.' I feel healthy and at peace. For that brief time, I'm no longer afraid of or worried about anything.

So, when at 4:30 in the morning I make a fresh pot of coffee and pour that into a mug of hot chocolate powder, and make myself a homemade mocha, and suddenly I'm entranced and brought back to that magical realm, I don't care to worry about the past, present, or future. I don't care to think of all the things that stress me out in life, or all the things I'm afraid of. I don't worry about expectations or failures, of what I 'need' to do with my life, or what others say about me. For those brief thirty minutes that I drink two mug-fulls of homemade mocha, I detach myself from everything and just feel happy. I cut the strings that are tied all around me, holding me down. My soul departs from my body and rises up into the air in a surreal out-of-body experience. I reach a new level of sentience, of awareness, devoid of all the strife and distractions of life. I'm focused and clear.

There's a ritual there. The process is almost spiritual. The scent of the coffee always arouses a sort of wondrousness in my mind. And the gurgling sound of the percolation lulls me into a calm. Then I pour the coffee into a carefully selected mug (using another ritual entirely) and add whatever I wish to add. I then just let the coffee sit there, the aroma floating up into my nostrils, soothing me, as I wait for it to cool down. And then, when it's hot - but not too hot - I slowly begin to sip and savor it. I can feel it pour down my throat and into my chest, warming up my insides. It's a whole-body process. My central nervous system, my brain, my organs, my everything feels the effects of the coffee coursing through me.

While I could go on forever about this, it seems, I'll try to come to a closing. Ever since my mind became less active, less wild, I've searched and searched for replacements of those wonderful things that got me through those horrid times. Those moments of ecstasy and euphoria were forever trapped in my memory - whether conscious or subconscious - for me to seemingly eternally quest to find. I often wonder if those things ever could truly be replaced or if my attempts to find them will always be futile. I can manage to capture those moments very, very briefly - such as with the homemade mocha - but I can never seem to hold on to them. They're drugs that I constantly need to find a new fix of, whereas the original psychotic infatuations were pure and drawn from the spring - the very source - that was infinitely flowing. When my body and mind deemed it necessary, I would always fall back into that realm of total peace amidst all the chaos. Now, I live for those moments, each and every one I can find.

Rest in Peace

When someone dies, we often say their life was cut too short. But, in our minds, lives will always be cut too short.

When God told Adam and Eve that they would die, they didn’t believe Him. They didn’t die immediately, nor did they know when they would die, so it’s understandable that they didn’t think they were really going to die. But, it was because of their eventual deaths that others could live, for if it were not for Adam and Eve’s loss of immortality, none of us would exist. It is death that gives way to life. So yes, when someone dies, their life is cut too short, but it’s their sacrifice of life that gives way to more life. And, even though Adam and Eve lost their worldly immortality, they ended up gaining a more meaningful immortality with God.

I don’t think anyone, if not a mere handful of people, would choose worldly immortality. While we naturally fear death and the end, not knowing what comes next, often we fear what’s on this Earth even more. And an immortal life for us would mean more struggles and more strife, and I think that most people would accept and rather move on after a certain point than eternally live through life. Speaking on a more personal level, I understand and have felt those feelings of finality – of wanting an end to all things. I’ve felt the desire to move on from life and into whatever comes next. I’ve felt like throwing myself across that threshold just to escape the woes of life. While it was certainly neither my time, nor what I truly wanted in retrospect, I do know that I would rather let that day come and embrace it than to fear it, even if I can’t be certain what awaits.

So, with that, rest in peace, Terry. I hope you found an end to your pain and eternal bliss with God.

PANIC..! Oh, wait, it's fine.

So... second day 'on the job.' In that game I mentioned in my last post, in my guild, I got additional responsibilities to be both essentially the 'voice' of the guild, as well as a moderator. So, on top of being 'Master of Trades and Industries,' I'm also 'Spokesperson,' and 'Mediator.' A lot of hats to put on! And to think, not too long ago, I was simply a kid playing a game excessively everyday on my own. Well, I've been practicing and practicing at my three new jobs that - might I be clear - do actually involve other, real people on those other ends of the computer!

I've been constantly communicating with the guild leader, making sure we're both clear and understanding of my jobs, make sure that we're on the same page when it comes to guild rules, guild expectations, and so on, and I've been putting a lot of time and effort into this virtual job. I feel it's kind of like practice for an office job! E-mailing/messaging the boss, coming up with spreadsheets and tables, analysing data, dealing with patrons, and the whole nine yards.

Some of my standard jobs as Master of Trades and Industries including tracking market trends, tracking goods productions in each town, maintaining a steady market flow, notifying guild members about all of the above, and tracking the activity of guild members on an individual level. My other side jobs as Spokesperson and Mediator include alerting everyone to things that concern the whole guild, being the voice of the guild leader, explaining rules and expectations, making sure players aren't out of line in their posts in the guild forum, and making new posts in the guild forum, largely pertaining to my first job as Master of Trades.

Well, all of this was going smoothly (albeit a lot of work for one person!), but that was mostly because I have probably one of the laziest, uncommunicative guilds in the gaming universe. I essentially haven't had to interact with other players... since most of my posts and messages have been rather one-sided. Out of the 21 members, I'd almost think only three or four of us actually exist! Well, I just posted a long message talking about how if guild members don't start trying to follow guild rules and expectations, that there could be impending consequences. The guild leader and I have used this sort of language quite a lot without any sort of repercussions... ANY... at all. Not a peep.

Well, suddenly, I got a response! Hooray! right? Nope. The person who responded essentially said that they played the game to get away from rules and expectations and that they didn't appreciate the 'threatening language' I used in the message, speaking of consequences and such. Well... my heart just about sank. My thoughts were going at a million miles per hour and I felt like I was going to faint. "Did I just screw things up?! The guild leader's away right now, but what will he think when he get's back?! Did I really upset this person?! What are the other members going to think?!" And my thoughts pretty much went on like that for what felt like an hour, but was probably less than half that.

I then proceeded to write a reply to this guild member, explaining that I didn't mean for the language to be threatening, that I was trying to go with the theme of the game (empires, wars, iron-fisted rulers, and so on), and that the guild leader is a role-player, and that I was just following his lead. I submitted it, completely tearing myself apart while wondering how they would react to that post, and killing myself in anticipation. Well, luckily they responded before my heart exploded saying that they hoped it was just a bit of role-play and that everything was fine! Whew! What a relief...

So, I was panicking for nothing. Just a brief rush of irrational thoughts toward a situation that ended well and rationally! If I keep this up, I might have to get into customer support!

Err... nevermind. That would be an awful idea.

Baby Steps

This past week or so, I've been playing a game called Forge of Empires that combines aspects of Facebook's very own Castleville and the turn-based strategy game, Civilization. While I have to admit it's addictive - more so than either game, in my opinion - it's also helping me in one... rather unexpected aspect.

I've been climbing the ladder of global ranking in this game quite steadily, currently being ranked the 3,148th person out of over 35,000 people around the globe. I'm sure I was tied for last place not too long ago, and now I'm on top of over 31,800 people. I was quickly picked up by a guild leader who was quite charismatic and favored role-playing. For instance, he loves bestowing titles like 'Lord' and 'Sister,' using terms like 'the Brotherhood' to describe the guild, and imitating to a lesser degree some old-timey language. I normally avoid such charismatic people at all costs.

I also make it a point to never join guilds in games. Just like in the real world, I hate the crowdedness and expectations that come with being a part of a large group of people (in this case, only 20 others, but the guild is quickly growing, much to my dismay.) I also often have trouble showing any sort of Thespian side to me, even in the role-playing situation. In D&D, I mostly just talked and acted as I would in real life... granted, I can't actually shoot a bow, and I don't actually call killing a dozen kobalds a good day's work. Showing anything but stark, bland realism is difficult for me, particularly around a crowd of people I don't know too well. I also don't like taking responsibilities in games with other people, also much like real life, because I can't bear standing up to the expectations, even if only in my head, that come with those responsibilities.

Well, I'm breaking pretty much every aforementioned rule. I joined a guild, I'm beginning to show my Thespian side, even if just a tiny bit, and I'm taking on responsibilities within the guild (I'm now the Master of Industries, tasked with maintaining the trade system within the guild.) I have to admit that there was some anxiety behind the decision to step up and take on this role, as it's like a purely psychological agoraphobic situation. I feel like having these responsibilities creates a situation that is difficult to run away from if need be. I love being the loner in role-playing games with other people because then there are absolutely no strings attached. I can leave anytime and no one would care! But now... Now I'm the Master of Industries, having daily responsibilities?! Okay, calm down... Breathe...

I think that what is causing for this all to be possible for me is my... teacher's pet mentality that I've had for my whole life. Sure, I'm anxious to do almost anything that involves me an one or more other people, but I've always had a knack for being the teacher's pet. Sitting at the front (albeit, in middle school, my degrading vision had a part in that), raising my hand first to answer many questions, always checking things with the teachers and staff, and even hanging out with the teachers and staff! I was a teacher's pet! Now... I'm doing the same thing with the guild founder!

I'm a part of a very lazy guild... People are given instructions, and almost no one follows through, even despite threats from the guild founder of their possible removal from the guild. I, on the other hand, very actively communicate with the founder, do what he instructs, and even willingly help out! I'm finding the same dynamic here as I used to have in the classroom. The same dynamic that broke through and overrode my anxieties in order to prove myself better than all the other poor saps in the eyes of some authority figure. While I certainly could not go back into a classroom at the moment, no matter the previously overriding capabilities of this dynamic, because the anxieties would certainly win, and even though this is just an online game, I think it's a step in the right direction!

I'm being sociable in a public domain, I'm taking on responsibilities that I couldn't just run away from, my actions are fairly visible to the world (who play this game), and I'm being charismatic... I don't think I'd ever have imagined seeing myself doing these things in the past. Now... if I could only translate this to real-life situations...

The Depression-Mania Stigmata Dynamic

The title is really just a de facto title for a concept that goes through my head from time to time. The stigma - at least my personal stigma - behind depression and mania are entirely different, despite being two (sometimes equal) aspects of the same illness - bipolar. Why is it so different, though?

Manic episodes, or even just hypo-manic episodes (which I have had plenty of, but haven't had full-blown manic episodes in a long time), are 'highs,' and often bring along positive attitudes, happiness, creativity, a rush of energy and ideas, a lacking need for sleep, and a feeling of invincibility in one way or another. Most of this sounds pretty kick-ass, right? I mean, who wouldn't want all of those things? So, I often say that I would love to be hypomanic all the time! Well... much of the time, at least.

Depressive episodes are hard on the sufferer and everyone around the sufferer. They don't say 'suffering from depression' for nothing. Depression is both emotional and physical, and is the very literal polar opposite of mania. Depression is a major low that brings about negative attitudes and views on life, sadness, (for me at least) stunted creativity and concentration, horrible lethargy, anxiety, irritability, lack of interest in things you're normally interested in, hopelessness, and vulnerability. It's obvious that no one would want these things. Did you know that depression is tremendously more difficult to treat than mania? Depression is incessant and just plain awful. The cyclical thoughts that often come from depression also have a tendency to drive a person deeper and deeper into their depression, meaning that not being able to break those cyclical thoughts essentially means having just that much more trouble getting out of the depressive episode.

When I'm manic (I'll just use 'manic,' even to cover hypo-mania), I'm perfectly fine about announcing it to the world. Mania is like a celebration to me that I want everyone to take part in. Depression, on the other hand, I'd prefer to hide from the world. When I'm depressed, I feel like it's a sign of weakness, even though it isn't. I have a lot of personal stigma for my own depression. I become afraid of talking about it to people I'm close to because of worries about what they'll think of me if they know I'm depressed. I become very guarded on the subject and may even try to convince others (if not myself) that I'm not depressed. I don't worry about this as much with people I'm not as close to because I don't worry quite as much about what they'll think if I tell them I'm depressed.

To be honest, I've probably gone through at least a short one or two day depression almost three or four times a month in the last year, as well as had some depressive or irritable undertones almost every day in the past year. I try my hardest, however, to hide this. I will actually take the tiny reserves of mental strength I have left and focus them on just hiding my depression. I probably stigmatise my own depression more than anyone I know. This stigmatising also causes me to shy away from asking for help with these issues, even from my own therapists and doctors! I have other personal stigmata for things more inadvertently related to my depression, such as the word 'therapist' (people might not notice, but I very strictly replace it with 'psychologist' because of the connotations I think might go with 'therapist.') This is nonsensical, of course, but the simplest definition of a mental illness is its nonsensical or contrary nature.

Our minds almost always, if not always, associate one thing with another, be it good, bad, or neutral. "Those kids' parents are wealthy, thus the children must be spoiled." "When I'm manic I feel good." "When I'm depressed I feel bad." When you boil those things down, they come down to, in our minds: wealthy = spoiled, manic = good, and depressed = bad. But things really aren't that simple. Those wealthy parents could actually be great parents who teach moderation, the mania can get out of control and be unhealthy, and the depression could be a healthy reaction to a serious life event that you just have to go through the motions of. Never take things at face value. That's probably the hardest life lesson I've ever come across that I still have a stunningly difficult time getting into this ol' noggin of mine.

I think I have a lot of time and therapy ahead before I can come to grips with this concept that I'm already quite conscious of - that I should not only take mania just as seriously as depression, but that I shouldn't attach extra stigma to depression just because of bad subconscious associations.

To Future Me

Every day just might feel like the most unbearable day you've ever lived through.
Every day just might feel like you're soaring through the sky, too elated to pay much mind.
Every day just might feel bland and normal, boring and uneventful.
But, hopefully, you'll have figured this out by now, better than I have, and you'll have realised –
Not every day is like that.

Some days are better than others, and some days are worse.
Some days are so in-between that they'll seem boring and monotonous.
Some days you'll be an optimist, and others a pessimist.
But, hopefully, you'll be able to face these facts in the face, unlike me, and...
Maybe you'll be rightfully proud of yourself.

You are my hopes and dreams... or so I hope and dream.
You are what I cry when I'm alone, thinking I'll never become.
You are either young, or old, lively, or in a wheelchair,
But, either way, you'll have come to a realisation and have become enlightened, and...
You'll look back at me and think, "I wouldn't have changed a thing."

Because I look back at myself in the past and think the same.
Because I know that those hard – no, gruesome – times in the past were but stepping stones.
Because I see that I wouldn't be who I am today, if I weren't who I was back then.
But, either way, you are who you are, and you can't lose too much sleep over that, since...
What you see now isn't necessarily what you'll see in the future.

So I end this letter, now, to you – or me – perhaps to act as some sort of reminder of who you once were, of how you got to where you are now. Hopefully you've found that inner peace you were always searching for. Hopefully you've found that women who, however cliché it sounds (to me, at least, but maybe not the more mature you – how should I know?) who completes you. The sun to your moon, the yin to your yang (you probably know, like I do, that yin – though 'dark' – is supposed to be the female, but the darkness always fit you more.)

Are you going to go off on these tangents, too? I hope not. They even make me tired.

Sincerely,

You

More Awareness

I read an article (Finding the Middle Path) that discussed black and white thinking, something that's especially common in a number of mood, mental, and personality disorders (though what comes to mind where black and white thinking is a relevant 'symptom' or determining factor is borderline personality disorder, whereas its more like a quality that just may be common in other disorders.) The article mentioned using 'dialectal thinking,' which is basically mindfulness, or a form of mindfulness, as being a part of the bloggers' approach to dialectal behavioral therapy, one of the preferred therapies for those with BPD. Anyhow, at the bottom of the post, she wrote:

Note to Readers
If you are emotionally sensitive, please consider taking my survey about understanding loneliness. I appreciate your time and your contribution to better understanding emotional sensitivity.

Well, I decided, 'What the heck; I'll do it.' Little did I know how much it would cause me to reflect on some core issues of mine, bringing more awareness. Awareness, however, is a double-edged sword, or so I've found. Awareness can turn into hyper-awareness, which can then turn into anxiety and dwelling. I'm hoping I don't stab myself with the knowledge, as I'm so proficient at doing.

The questionnaire asked various questions about loneliness and emptiness. When writing anonymously through a machine, I suppose I'm better at reflecting. I answered a question about what I fear about being alone by saying that I fear I think everything is futile and essentially give up on life when I'm alone, whereas the right person in the right circumstance can give me the motivation I need to progress in life. Without the right people, I'm at a dead end. That may be relying too much on another person who isn't even in my life at the moment, but that's just how I am. I need to be in a relationship or have a deep and active friendship in order to get even a grain of motivation. Otherwise, futility sticks in my head. I currently have neither.

I've known for a long time, now, that I'm not a risk taker, and rather avoid risks at all costs (inadvertently and ironically a risk in and of itself.) This leads to anxieties, which leads to avoidance, which takes everything good in life away. I virtually have no friends, no social life, and have been leaping and bounding toward agoraphobia. Many days I find myself worrying about the smallest things in the outside world, especially hypothetical job-related situations. For instance, if I got a job at a store at the mall (I've wanted to work at Atmosphere at the mall in the past), but I made even a miniscule mistake with a customer, I would probably go into panic mode, especially since I almost panic just thinking about the hypothetical situation! Another fear is being bad at the job. Then there's forgetting things while working (which would be inevitable), not working well with other employees, my lack of dependability, getting fired, and even more. Pretty much every aspect of working frightens me, makes my heart skip beats or flutter, and makes me uncomfortable.

Now, a lot of this can be applied to interpersonal relationships. In the past, essentially everyone I've ever been friends with has moved out of my life for one reason or another. This has led to an immense, somewhat debilitating fear that such would be inevitable if I tried to get new friends, so I avoid the possibility of losing a new friend altogether by simply not getting new friends! I also have constant, pestering worries about what others think of me, and so I avoid social interactions as much as possible. I also can get very bitter - a kind of long lasting bitterness that sometimes seems to never go away, and so I burn bridges with some people. In many ways, I'm anti-social, yet I crave social interactions. My fears hold me back from exactly what I desire.

Disappointments, high hopes being crushed, feelings of betrayal and abandonment, and disillusionment have all led to a deep-seated cynicism and seemingly endless cluster of fears that hold me back. Progressing in life isn't just a matter of simply 'thinking differently' or 'getting over' these problems. They're engrained in my very nature. My essential being needs to be retrained, rewritten. I've been trained (and/or inadvertently trained myself) to avoid everything that makes life great, and instead block out the world. It'll be harder to break this wall down than the Berlin wall. After nearly a decade of constant retrogression, it'll be drastically more difficult to reverse the damage and get me back on track. On an emotional and interpersonal level, I'm little better than a small child (which emotional and psychological immaturity are also classic signs of borderline, which I still theorise I have, but have yet to be diagnosed with.) And, as I sank deeper and deeper, that bubble got compressed more and more, and there's nothing I need more than to just rise back up to the surface and expand that bubble once again. Ironically, before I was on meds, I was much more socially active and had many fewer anxieties. My other mood and hallucinatory issues took precedence and covered up those anxieties and insecurities.

Imagine if the U.S. post office decided to just shut down for a few months. Imagine the amount of mail that would build up! Now, replace the mail with insecurities and other psychological issues and replace the U.S. post office with my mind. So many issues have piled up that it's no wonder it's daunting and confounding as to how to deal with it. Every time I go to deal with one problem, my mind wanders to another, and another, and another, and so on, until eventually I'm so overwhelmed that I just stop for awhile and then restart all over again. I've tried so long, it seems, to work on these problems on my own (mainly out of necessity) that it seems to have backfired. I've never been good at doing things by myself, and yet that's often my preferred method. I've never learned a second language fluently, or many other knowledges, because I haven't had enough instructors. Life has proven that I cannot do anything long term without the constant guidance of someone else. Reading a book, finishing all of a video game (including the little things), finishing school assignments, writing a story, and so on... I'm essentially a symbiotic creature by nature and require another person around the clock to get things done over a long period of time. Very small things that only take a little devotion, time, and mental fortitude I can do on my own, though.

I just hope that parts of my psyche haven't undergone necrosis and permanently died off, or fallen off, and that it's more resilient. And to call my situation 'complicated' is a gross understatement. If I were to name all of the possibilities that have been brought up as to what my problems may be, it would look overwhelming; for instance: bipolar type schizoaffective, ADHD (attention deficit hyperactive disorder), OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), BPD (borderline personality disorder), GAD (generalised anxiety disorder), and SAD (seasonal affective disorder) are the main highlights of what I may have. Generally, what's addressed most is bipolar, which I've never really had truly clarified. It's more like 'affectivity on the bipolar spectrum.' Now, that's not even mentioning the possible physical issues I could have.

Anyhow, I think this is plenty for this post. It's also been all negative, so no need perpetuating it further.

Grinding Gears

Lately, I've been curious as to if I should be on a stimulant of some sort or not. Whether or not I have ADHD has also been put onto the table for questioning. What I do know for certain is that immense amounts of coffee (three or so cups of coffee or a handful of chocolate covered coffee beans straight) can aid in getting me to sleep. I also know that low to moderate amounts of caffeine and 'energy' drinks can calm me down. This is quite common in people with ADHD, except that sugar seems to be able to have the opposite effect, and actually magnify the energy drastically. That, I haven't found in myself.

My NP (nurse practitioner) is iffy about putting me on any more meds, or adjusting my meds much. From what I've read, people with bipolar can be flung into manic and hypomanic episodes more easily when on stimulants, which isn't ideal should that be the case 24/7. Well, sometimes I wish I could always be a little hypomanic, but when I'm not, it's exhausting just to think about. However, I'd much rather always be hypomanic than just blah or depressed. I don't deal with those two states very well.

However, a bipolar blogger I like to read talked about this sort of thing, as she's on Ritalin. She apparently takes it once every other day, and this gets her into a little bit of a hypomanic flight which lasts into the next days without going overboard, or needing too much of it. She described how I feel perfectly; she said, "Most of my moods like to hang out on the depressive side of the pole, and quite honestly, I hate it. Usually it takes something to push me into a state of hypo-mania. Not always, but generally speaking that is how it is. A medication, a major event, a seasonal shift. It doesn’t take much, but it usually takes something. I don’t just wake up one day all manic and happy." I didn't used to be like this, but it seems like, now-a-days, I linger around the 'blah' side of things way too much and need a push of some sort to get me some energy, up, and racing.

Hypomania is a wonderful feeling: you don't need to sleep as much, you have a rush of energy and ideas, you feel like you have the answer to everything, and like nothing bad could happen. Depression, however, would be if you took the opposites of all of those things except for sleep (it's a cliché that depressed people sleep too much, and it's often the opposite.) Now, I've been getting this grinding gear feeling for the past year or so. It's like the two have merged into some get-nothing-done, anxious, tugging-from-opposite-sides state. It's as though the gears want to be turning, or want to be stopped, but something's trying to have both at the same time. Imagine an engine that doesn't want to start, and you get that brutal, ear-shattering grinding sound - that's how I feel. You feel like trying to push it to go will just cause some sort of irreversible damage, and no one wants that.

So, what is this 'grinding gears' sensation? Well, let's look at how I'm feeling right at this very moment - as well as many nights. I took my meds a little while ago and they're starting to sink in. When this happens, I typically feel a kind of wall of sedation hit me. It's not always very strong - or even effective - but I do still feel it. Now, I have a tendency to resist this to a degree, often until I finally lose the fight and go to sleep (sometimes unintentionally in the middle of things.) However, during the resistance, I feel somewhat like I'm trying to run in shin-deep water. My mind wants to keep on going, but the meds in my system are trying to tell me otherwise. Often, the two contradict each other so that I can neither sleep, nor get anything done. I don't know how many times I wanted to write something but didn't because my meds kicked in and fogged up my brain.

Now, take this and apply it more loosely to my day-to-day life, not just at night. It got me thinking that maybe I'm on too many meds, or maybe just not the right combo. Maybe the more slowing/sedating properties are leaking less noticeably, but still problematically, into the rest of my life. Perhaps this is what's causing that grinding gears sensation. However, these hypotheses could be off, or incomplete - I really don't know. I just know that bipolar, or whatever it is I have, exactly, is a lifelong journey, and it'll probably take a good deal of time before I have things figured out.

Desires

I suppose I have horrendously unrealistic desires when it comes to my mood disorder and anxiety. I want to be able to freely and readily swing between highs and lows, but I don’t want to be obligated or responsible for anything during those times. I want to meet people, but I don’t want to do the work of going out into the world to do so – I’d rather be set up with someone and… just hope we mesh well. I want to be able to feel free to cry if I get emotional and laugh insanely when I’m emotionally high without feeling like I’m being judged. I want to be stable and unstable at my very whim. I want to be able to manually open the flood gates (tears), because – otherwise – they’re habitually blocked. I want to be able to just… go to sleep when I feel sleepy, and feel sleepy, like a normal person, instead of needing a chemically induced sleep every night. I forgot a long time ago what natural sleep feels like.

Some of these might not seem so crazy to certain individuals, while some of these might seem ridiculous. I can’t really predict who would think what. I can understand these desires being unrealistic, but they’re desires – not necessarily what I will or can get. I guess, to sum it up, I want control… even if that means a little bit of lack of control. I always imagine in my head how things should play out, with specific cues, like a movie version in my head. I can say that I cannot recall a single instance that has happened except for the ends of certain movies (I’ll admit, when no one’s looking, I can be a bit of a crier with films that hit home with me.)
 
I see these bipolar people on TV and movies, or hear stories about people with bipolar, and they sound so much closer to how I used to be. I mean, not many people get a number of coexisting psychoses in the form of different kinds of consistent and persistent delusions and hallucinations. That’s one reason an old therapist of mine and I had come to the same conclusion that I might have schizoaffective disorder with bipolar tendencies (in between bipolar and schizophrenia, though they are sometimes believed to be part of the same continuum.) Still, having been on a steady supply of antipsychotics for years and years, now – perhaps over a half dozen different kinds – I’ve been lacking that particular symptom. I had a love-hate relationship with my psychoses… I often miss them, but am often glad they aren’t around anymore. I guess if I could pick and choose my psychoses, I’d be just golden. There I go being unrealistic in my desires, as I obviously can’t be picky about what psychoses I do and don’t have.
 
And then there are my romantic desires… Love… wife… kids… Each and every day that goes by, I decrease my chances of ever finding those things because of my solitary, hermitic, anxiety-engulfed, anti-social, hypocritical day-to-day life lodged firmly in this house. And what if I happen to miraculously find any such person, and succeed with any such things? Would I just live a miserable, unfulfilling life? Would I feel inept and impotent? Would I be a horrible father? Would I still be too scared to even walk a few blocks away from the comfort of my house alone? I’m constantly pestered by these questions swirling in my head. The things I want could become so disastrous in my current state, or if my state got any worse. I then often think that, perhaps, dooming myself might be the only way to avert such disaster, assuming that I don’t improve. It’s not until I improve in the various other areas that my self-destructive tendencies really become relevant as more than a defence mechanism.
 
To be able to control what I feel and how I feel it… To be able to control how I deal with things in life… To be the master of my mind… Those are the things I truly want so badly. That’s what all of these desires really boil down to. I almost achieved a trance-like state during a shower at dawn. It was peaceful, relaxed, and utterly free of my problems. All the pain and anxiety and tiredness seemed to disappear. It felt almost like sleeping, but it wasn’t. All of my senses began to blur, but were ever-present. I was mindful of every one sensation, and yet they felt… not blocked, not dulled, but a particular kind of feeling that I’ve only really found in narcotics. You know that it’s there, but it’s drastically less taxing on you. This transcendent state was like a natural, mindful painkiller. If I could always achieve a state like that, I don’t know if it would be good or bad. Would I become like the guy on Office Space, or like a Buddhist monk? Or would I become like something else entirely?
 
My life has been like one giant experiment with no real conclusions. There’s been trial and error, with no ‘right way’ of doing things (but certainly plenty of wrong ways.) And, in this life, each trial and, usually inevitable, error takes months at a time, if not years, making the process painstakingly slow.