Mr. Sweatpants is bringing me some food. I guess his section is having a holiday party. Yeah, I�m hungry! Hurry up. Playing with my food is like playing with my emotions, man.
Something smells good in here. I think it�s me. Yes! At first I thought it was the Gucci perfume, but now I�m starting to think it�s the new detergent I started using. I believe it�s one of the Wisk detergents, but either way, I smell fresh, fresh, fresh.
Not that I don�t always smell fresh.
Well�maybe sometimes I smell like smoke, because I smoke. But I�m paranoid about not smelling like smoke, so maybe I don�t smell. I take steps so that I always smell good.
I�m pretty tired today, however, you know, I wish my doctor would up my medicine again. I can�t believe I�m saying that but it�s true. Even though I�d be very tired, at least I could do better about ignoring those suicidal impulses. From what I�ve read, many bipolars get suicidal impulses and that 20% of the UNTREATED kill themselves.
It�s so frustrating because I don�t want to die, I don�t want to stop living. I usually like being alive. I know I have a purpose. I want to live in spite of what�s happened to me. I don�t want to be a victim of my own hand, especially when Rodn*ey Linc*oln tried to kill me those years ago.
It�s just that I sometimes feel like I have someone sitting on my shoulder telling me to give it up (some people say they believe it is Satan), that I oughta do the world a favor and give up. I hate thinking like that. I�m mad that I�m bipolar and that these impulses happen to everybody who has it because it is tiring to fight this all the time.
I keep having to repeat to myself:
�I love being alive�
�I have a purpose for being alive�
�I have a reason to live�
�I have a daughter to raise�
�I have a right to live�.
I love being alive because I came very close to dying once. And to think that I should just give up is such a betrayal to myself and the very person that I am, that I get very angry.
It�s just a little angry impulse, and I�m ignoring it. However, sometimes I cry because it�s just a very sad thing to think about, you know, my daughter growing up without me. Gosh, I could never do that to her. I know what it�s like to be that �little girl lost�. I would never leave my daughter alone on this earth. Life without a mom is very sad.
I was explaining all of this to Mr. Sweatpants on the way to the airport last night, and I cried. I told him I want to find a counselor but I�m scared that someone will commit me and I�ll lose my daughter. Then, I will have nothing to leave for. But it�s an irrational fear, because really I AM a functioning bipolar. I can work and eek out a living and be a good mom. I just don�t want some power-tripping doctor to make me go in against my own will when all I really need is a sounding board once a week. I�m fine. I just need someone to listen to me once a week. That�s all. Not too much to ask.
I�m a little sad sometimes, if only because I feel like I�ve been handed a long awful sentence. You know, I have an illness I will forever have to take medicine for. It�s something I can�t change, and unfortunately there is a stigma attached to being bipolar. People think we�re crazy.
I cried because I realize it will be difficult to ever find someone I want to marry and vise versa. I know about the stigma of a mental illness. It makes me want to scream because I did nothing to deserve this life, and yet, I keep getting the whammies. I�m not giving up though. It�s not going to beat me.
I�m going to beat this mental illness. I�m going to conquer it just like all the other obstacles in my life.
Don�t you worry about me. I�ll be fine, even if it means I�ll be battling the inner me for the rest of my life. I got all day.
I will not give up and I won�t give in to this fear.
I will survive.
I will live to be a ripe old lady with 9 cats.
Of course even then, neither my kittens nor me will smell.
Because I�m paranoid about smells.
In other news, Mr. Sweatpants and I went out to the airport last night to get Melinda and Enrique. We waited a good while, and then I saw Ricky, and I cried. I haven�t seen any of my Navy friends in 3 years. And then there was my sister Melinda. I really, really missed her.
We stayed up for a while last night chatting, but everyone was tired, so we all went to bed around 11. I slept so well. I think it�s because I knew there was a man in the house, and even though I�ve been without a man in the house for 4 years, it felt nice to be able to relax and really sleep.
Today is going to be a nice day. I�m kinda pissed because I don�t get paid until tomorrow, and that�s going to make it hell to get Ricky a present at the last minute. Oh well.
Melinda and I both bought each other lavender bath products. That�s kind of funny. J We must be a little psychic.
I feel bad for Lisa that she�s going through so much. She pretty much married a guy she really loved and it�s obviously going to be a hard road sometimes because he has a drinking problem. I guess I just want her to know I�m there for her and I still love him too.
I love her guy too, but I know he does things to her sometimes that are mean and uncalled for, and he can act like a real pig jerk. That�s when I get mad. I don�t think anyone deserves what she got last Friday. He shouldn�t have kicked her out in the middle of the night. That was so wrong. It�s your house too, Lisa. Even if your name�s not on it, you are married to him now and you have a legal right to be there. So he can stick it as far as I�m concerned!
Love you Salsalita!
13:56 - Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2003
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
%%older_entries%%
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