Tag Archives: dreaming

Loved You May and Hello June


May was the most interesting month I’ve had for what seems like forever!

A new medication for sleeping has done wonders for me.  Instead of needing and getting 12 to 14 hours of sleep almost every day, I now get up after only 7 hours and feel pretty perky.  All my other meds are the same and seem to be working really well for the most part.  I think the weather helps too.  I’m not isolating 1380021_10155657943450221_190890452345083084_nmyself so much as I was a few short weeks ago.  I love my yard; the sun sucks all the dreary winter from my body and brings the summer into my soul.

We found a cute baby kitty that we were going to adopt and kept him in the house with us for a few days until we could get him to the Humane Society to have him checked out and neutered.  He got out just before one of the most weirdest storms I’ve ever been through happened.  Snow with lightning and high damaging winds.  Then he never came back.  I still grieve for him.  He was so lovable and sweet.

The end of May marked the first anniversary of the death of my dad.  I still have the image of him taking his last breath as my sister and I clutched his hands, crying, and telling him to go.  It was okay to go.  I should have left right away so I wouldn’t have had to see his empty, thin body lying there.  I can’t forget it.  I still remember my mom as she looked after her death too.  I dream of them so much.    His birthday was 2 days after his death as well.  It was hard this year as I’m sure it will be every year.  It’s funny when I dream of my dad because, in my dreams, apparently his death was all a big mistake and he isn’t really dead and is still alive.

What makes it better, though, is in between the anniversary of my dad’s death 11107728_10155729474615221_1500065792585678561_nand his birthday my youngest granddaughter had her first birthday.  I remember the joy I felt when she was born in spite of the sad, dark time of a year ago.  This year was no different, really.  She is cute as can be and I love both of my grandgirls to bits.  Such bright and wonderful children who give me so much joy.

My daughter turned 18 in March and is almost 30.  Yeah. But she’s really doing great.  Doing fantastic in school, winning 2 awards and made the honour roll!  So proud of that girl.

I also met a man.  I decided to give up on the “bad boys” after reading several articles written by nice men who never seem to get a chance.  I also read some blog posts and comments from them where women have been stuck with the bad boys just like I was. And they just didn’t get it either. So…I’m giving one a chance.  It’s only been a few weeks but holy moly…wow.  He treats me like a queen, takes me for dinners, lunches and breakfasts.  He lent me his truck for 4 days (which my kids thought was really weird).

I have had to stop him from spending so much money on me.  If he had his way he would lavish me with gifts.  He wants to find me a car. He wants to buy me clothes. I said no. I keep saying no. He really giftswants me to be happy and expects a commitment in the future.  THAT I’ve  never heard before.  It’s been all disconcerting as I have not met anyone like him.  He loves how I look.  He’s beyond eager to meet my kids.  He wants to be with me all the time and I had to tell him I needed space to breathe and learn about myself in this new role.  It was a battle at first, only because of his own insecurities I think.  I notice he really doesn’t have that many of those so far.  He lives out-of-town on a beautiful 4 acre lot with an apple orchard and all the toys near a beautiful lake.  I’ve stayed there a few times and love the privacy, the birds and the sun on beautiful days.

I had a surprise graduation party for my son, his wife and my daughter on Sunday because they are all graduating.  My son got his GED back in the fall, my 11224583_10155851597945221_3784232355226808323_ndaughter-in-law went to night school to finish her high school and, of course, my daughter graduates high school in June.  My fella paid for all the food and drove me around everywhere to find supplies and presents.  He wanted to come to the party to do the cooking but I held him off as we had only been together for such a short time.  I just felt it was too soon.

He smiles all the time. And that’s important to me. We like and love so many of the same things and every time we discover something new it’s such a surprise.  He wants to make sure I’m not stuck inside and plans outings all the time.  He missed me yesterday and drove the hour drive and showed up at 4 in the afternoon with Chinese food for supper.

To think I was fighting this.  Neither of us could really understand my imagesCA48VGCDreasoning.  I do though, of course.  All those failed relationships, all the heartache and all the work invested and lessons learned.  He doesn’t want me to lump him into the same category as those guys.  He’s assured me he’s different.  I’m starting to believe it. His health isn’t very good at this time but we both hope for improvements.

I have high hopes for this wonderful man.  If it doesn’t work out at least I know there are nice men out there.

So bring on June.  Graduations, beaches, long drives and love.  Bring it on.

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Roller Coaster


Finally, I feel I have the ability to write again, both electronically and emotionally.  Well, I still don’t know about the emotional part.  Its been a very emotion-filled few weeks, with many ups and even more downs.  My laptop may overheat but I will write with breaks so it can cool down.

During these times I came to learn valuable lessons about myself:  I’m still strong, there is always something new on the horizon, and I have my pride intact.  There were lots more lessons learned but those are the big ones.

I was always waiting for something.  Exterminators because we had bedbugs.  It took the landlord 2 months to get them here so poor Carly and I would go to bed each night so the critters could feast upon our milky flesh.  All the info we read from the government and exterminator’s websites recommended you don’t sleep on the couch or they will find you.  Where. Ever. You. Go.  So I couldn’t sleep.  I would stay awake until the sun came up, killing any that crawled on me and put them in a jar of bleach and laugh manically as they dissolved before my eyes (I bet you didn’t know how sadistic I can be).  During the day I would pick though my daughter’s bed, trying to decrease her discomfort.  She would still have new bites every few days.

During this 2 month time we were banned from seeing my grandchildren as my son has an almost supersized fear of the bugs and he did not want to risk any hugstransfer from us.  Ditto for the boyfriend.  I maybe saw him 4 times in that 2 months and that was to go to movies.  I was so relieved when we were finally sprayed at the beginning of December.  My oldest granddaughter was overjoyed when I walked though their door.  The hugs!  Hugs beat the bedbug blues every time!

Unfortunately the bugs seemed to be the beginning of the end for the boyfriend. He called less and less and I saw him very infrequently. We seemed to have a plan to go to Cuba though, where I hoped some alone time would help.  Over the holidays, he just stopped calling except for a text telling me Happy New year and don’t be mad, I’m going to Cuba with my friend.  That was almost 2 weeks ago and not a word since.

I knew this was a man who has lived with a very traumatic past and this is the worst time of year for him.  It took me a while to realize that he could not be ready for a relationship.  He needs to find his own self before he could ever trust his life won’t be ripped apart again.  I, of course, have had my own traumatic past.  The difference is I have both professional and familial support.  He chooses to have a different way of handling his feelings.  I’m afraid it ended with me having a broken heart because of the silence.  Or maybe I’m giving him too much credit and he really is just a jerk.  I don’t believe that though.  I do know, really, it’s for the best because, unless there is help in his life, my heart would never heal and would keep going through these unresolved issues he carries.  I think I might be stronger in some ways.  Unfortunately, I’ve now developed some trust issues of my own.  My self-esteem is even more damaged than before.  Who would want me?  I don’t feel attractive physically or emotionally/mentally.  What a mess.

There was one day that I slept away.  22 hours.  That was when I knew I had to try to do something but everything was pretty dark for me.  For those who survive depression hopefully knows everyone feels it differently; it’s never a contest, like “I have more reasons to be depressed than you do” kind of thing.  No.  What I feel ????is physical (heavy like an elephant) and mentally (my brain is a foggy bog of poo).  It’s how to get out of it is the challenge.  Sleeping 22 hours may not seem like a healthy way to do it but that was all I could do that day.  The next day was less, more like 14 hours.  Then it was 12.  I can handle 12. I did the dishes.  I tried to go grocery shopping.  Then suddenly I had stuff to do and had to get out of bed to do them so my going to bed at 7 am was not going to work anymore.  I seem to have developed a fairly normal schedule.

How I felt is so hard to explain.  I wish I had the words to tell you how dark my world was.  My dreams were where I wanted to be.  I couldn’t wait to dream because what happened in them was so much more exciting and meaningful than what my life was.  My bi-polar dreams have always been vivid but never so much as during this time.  My awake-time flashbacks from the dreams would leave me  quite confused. Once, on the rare occasion I did go out, I was very nearly hit by a bus and leapt 3 feet in the air as the driver laid on the horn, inches from my hip, waking me from my musings.  I thought no one would care anyway.  Of course I know now that is not and never been true.  I have my peeps who love me and always will.

Before Christmas, I was on the bus after seeing my mental health worker and tearsjust broke down.  I was crying in public.  No one did anything except for the lady beside me who handed me a used tissue.  I sat there with tears streaming down my face, suffering in silence.  Which is what most people do.    All this was not necessarily because of a man.  I was on my way to my darkness partly due to the isolation I was in and the feeling of not being wanted anywhere because of the blasted bugs.  I was just so sad and lonely and alone.

I missed my Dad so much over Christmas.  His joy was like a child’s when he opened gifts.  His place was empty at the table where we would squeeze his walker in.  I did have a wonderful day with my family though.  We all felt his presence there, especially when, for no explicable reason, glassware started banana-cream-pie-004falling out of the cupboard and breaking on the ceramic floor at my sister’s.  I was making the banana cream pie at the moment, which was his favourite dessert.  I had to stir and stir the homemade pudding for at about 45 minutes so it wouldn’t burn.  Maybe Dad thought I wasn’t doing it right but I kept right on stirring during all the crashing and sweeping and didn’t burn the pudding at all.  One of the best we ever made.  He was keeping me on my toes I guess.

Carly and I got wonderful news the other day.  We now have a townhouse we’re moving to through public housing.  Instead of paying rent I cannot afford it will be covered by the benefits I receive from Disability.  This is a huge financial relief for me.

I have lots to look forward to.  I will get to purge yet again.  The crap that weighs me down.  Crap that I hang on to.  Crap I can let go.   And it ain’t just because of the packing.

If I can help it, life is going be like taking a deep breath of fresh air.

 

A Room Packed With Boomers


Well another week has gone by and my Dad’s memorial service is now behind me.  So was seeing some creepy family members I could have done without but I got to see some very beloved ones as well.  Especially cousins I hardly know but love.  The plan is to get to know them better.  It was rather a unique time…a room packed with Boomers is not something you see everyday.  I just ignored the creepy ones as best as I could.

dads finalIt was a glorious day filled with stories, the wind off the lake and my Dad’s ashes scattered at his final resting place.  It was banana cream pie, conversation and hugs.  It was sadness, relief, connections and my grandbabies.  It was seeing my Dad everywhere and hardly having to look.  My Mom too.

It was having to hold in all these emotions until leaving for home and reaching a short way from the cottage and then sobbing, uncontrollably, on my daughter’s supporting shoulder.  We held each other in our borrowed vehicle and cried for the loss of a great man.  Our ride the rest of the way was filled with silence but we could hear the songs and his voice in our heads.

That man was my Dad and I’ll miss him and my Mom so much.

Today was the 70th anniversary of D-Day and I found out more about my Dad today than I ever knew before.  My eldest sister sent out an email:

He said that he was suddenly put onto the minesweeper HMCS Minus & it was very much a secret as to where they were heading.
That Canadian ship was part of the huge armada of Allied ships that assaulted the Normandy beaches in order to invade Europe.
Dad was 2nd in command of the landing craft that took troops from the Minus to Juno Beach. He said that it was heartbreaking. The seas were
very rough & a lot of the other landing craft were letting the troops off too soon. He saw lots of men drowning & struggling in the water. He said
that they made sure that they went right to the beach to let off their troops.
On one of their trips into shore the captain of their landing craft (who was standing right beside him) was shot in the head by a German sniper. His head & brains exploded all over Dad.
Dad was now in command of the landing craft that was also now damaged by German gunfire. He could not turn the landing craft around to head back to his
ship so he had to take it in backwards. When he reached the ship the captain on the deck yelled at him for coming in backwards whereupon our father told the captain to “ fuck off”.
Dad said that one of his enduring memories of June 6, 1944 was simply the huge booming noise from the guns on all of the Allied ships that were there that day.

I know he experienced much more pain than even on that day.  I’m proud of him and can’t even comprehend the horrors he faced, even during the years following the war.  The nightmares never left him and he tried so hard to not let them into his daytimes.  He did a fantastic job.

I also said goodbye to a guy I was dating for 7 months who decided he wasn’t “that into me” and broke up with me, by text, the night before my Dad’s memorial.  I sure can pick ’em!  I don’t feel a great sense of loss though.  He was obviously emotionally challenged and I’m pretty sure I was the “interim woman”.  My life certainly moves on.

Well, another week is ahead of me with plans to be with my family and some friends who have been so great helping me get though the last few weeks.

I’m looking forward to looking ahead.

Sleep Stories


Hey, how are you?  I’m doing fine this week.  I feel so much better.  My mind is pretty clear, I have plans for my life and my daughter’s report card was great.  Oh and my almost 20 month old granddaughter went pee in the potty for the first time pottytoday!  The only problem I’m having is sleeping.  Too much.  I could sleep all day and have done it a couple of times.

Oh the dreams I have at night (or early morning).  I think I don’t want to wake up because I don’t want to leave the dreams I’m in.  They’re so vivid now, so real.  Sometimes I’m not sure if something happened while sleeping or awake.  I’ve woken myself up yelling for my son to “come back here!!” like he was 2 years old.  The colours and patterns and stories make me want to sleep forever.

Most of them are really great dreams.  I told Dr. G about one that seemed almost precognitive.  I dreamt about my dream house and there were many new rooms in it.  Some of them had very narrow hallways that curved to the right before you enter the room.  Well, at my first appointment with the Intake Worker at the Canadian Mental Health Association, she led me to a door and immediately I had a strong sense of deja vu.  Sure enough, after entering, the wall curved to the right forming a narrow hallway and then we entered the open space of the office.

Weird.

I dream a lot of guilt dreams.  I hate those dreams.

I dreamt of apples last night.  Hundreds of them.  I filled my basket with them and I could smell them too.  I think it had to do with visiting with my son and daughter-in-law and smelling sample after sample of the products she’s selling for Scensie.  Apparently they use the same wax used on apples at the grocery stores.  No wonder.  None of my favourites scents I picked smelled like apples though.  Hmm.  Maybe I have scurvy?

dreamI asked Dr. G about my increase and intensity of my dreaming at our last appointment.  He told me that people who have bipolar have a very active mind so when we go to sleep the brain just keeps going.  When I told him about how much I was actually sleeping he brought up that nasty word…

NARCOLEPSY

NOOOOOO!!

Back in 2006 (?) I was diagnosed with the dreaded narcolepsy.  I had all the symptoms including falling asleep at inappropriate times, like during one on one conversations, going through stop signs with no memory of doing it until I “woke up”.  Forget driving on the highway.  I would get my 8 hours sleep no problem and more sometimes but the symptoms got worse and it was taking forever to get into the sleep clinic for an assessment.  narcolepsyMy GP had no choice but to diagnose me with that bad word until I could get to the clinic.  This meant suspending my driver’s license for a year!  A YEAR!

I called the clinic every week, looking for cancellations.  I was sooooo tired it was unbelievable.  I was on amphetamines that drove my body crazy with the shakes and the frustration of having eyes that wanted to close and dream but were wide open and dried out like 2 sand-filled apricots.  I couldn’t sleep at night.  I was awake all the time.  I was going on manic mode constantly.

I missed my dreams.

Finally they moved up my appointment.  Probably realizing my desperation and learning of my newly officially diagnosed bipolar disorder did the trick.  And it would make me stop phoning them.

Hi Sara!  It’s Marie again!
Hi Marie.  Oh I’m so sorry there’s nothing this week.  How are you doing my dear?

I was to go to the appointment after being awake for several hours and on no medication.  I got a ride there and looked forward to resolving this and 4 hours of sleep.  It was all so fascinating.  I love things to do with the brain and how it works.

I was hooked up to many, many electrodes and wires to monitors, wearing a paper gown.  While they were hooking me up, the techs had to keep prodding me to wake up.  I kept falling asleep while sitting there in spite of all the activity around me.

It was a great sleep.  I dreamed and dreamed.

When I was done the doctor asked to see me.  He had just one question for me.  He wondered if I started dreaming as soon as I go to sleep.  I assured him I did and I knew what I dreamt and everything.  He laughed and said I was in a dream state before the tech even left the room and my eyes had just closed.  He was astounded as that’s pretty rare.  He told me he would have the results for me in a week.

I saw him again and he played me a video of me sleeping where I snored obnoxiously or, as my friend Corrie says, unholy.  I was very embarrassed.  He said I did not have narcolepsy, that is to say I had the symptoms of it but they were being caused by sleep apnea.  I was to be fitted for an appliance for my mouth to keep my airway open while I slept.  That didn’t work out very well so I was switched to a CPAP machine which I had to wait for from Manitoba Health.

Oh soo attractive!  ha ha

Oh soo attractive! ha ha

In the meantime I still couldn’t drive and I was so tired I was finding it harder to work.   The call came that my CPAP was waiting for me after only 2 weeks.  It was the happiest day of my sleeping life.

Now I sleep with my CPAP every night.  Dr. G really doesn’t believe I have narcolepsy, thank goodness.  I think he was just throwing it out there to scare me.  I’m going to see a dietician to address some of this so hopefully things will be better in the sleep department.

Ciao for now!

I Don’t Want To Watch The Sunrise Anymore


Sleep is not my friend.  It hasn’t been for quite some time.  I CAN sleep but I have to get there first.

Imagine there’s a travelling circus going on in your head.  For me I hear music, I see faces I know and don’t.  I relive conversations from today, a week ago and from years past. I’ll change those conversations to “I shoulda said” and “I shoulda done”.  I think of TV shows, questions for the universe (why do I have to pay GST and PST for feminine hygiene products?  Is there another word for synonym?) A door has been blown open in my brain letting all of this garbage out to beat the crap out of my consciousness. Oh, and hot flashes.  Let’s not forget about hot flashes.  Talk about speeding…no sleep

Then there’s my subconscious, with its crazy dreams starring monsters, dream houses (good and bad), old lovers (bad and good), parents, guilt, strangers, and new friends.  The dreams are so vivid.  Take this morning for instance (I can’t say last night because it was way past what would be considered last night) I dreamt I was, all at the same time: on a date; at work at my former office and doing a lousy job; sleeping in the dream at some point, then waking up (in the dream) and found 3 of my teeth were missing and in my hand.  I was late for a meeting and everyone was really mad and kept asking where I was but I couldn’t remember. In the dream I was so embarrassed, so distressed and panicked when I realized I forgot a whole passage of time.  AND my teeth fell out!  They all were rolling their eyes (“There she goes AGAIN!”). I also kept avoiding the date-guy because I lost my teeth.

Oy.

So once I’m asleep it’s not a peaceful time.  It’s very busy.  But I do sleep and for a long time.  Too long.

Dr. G. had said to take an extra tablet of the medication I use at night that’s supposed to slow down my thinking and help get me on my way to la la land.  It worked for the first night but the second night I watched the sun come up again.  I read the rest of my book and started another.  The night after that I fell asleepno sleep2 early, mostly due to the hangover the increase in my medication causes. I struggled to stay awake and went to sleep by 11:00 PM.  I swear my eyes just popped open at 1:30 AM.  There was no sleep for me after that.  My daughter came into my room shocked to see me awake and reading.  She went off to school and I tried to sleep again and managed to get about 4 more hours in.

Otherwise, mentally I feel so much better than I have in months, maybe even years. My depression is controlled and my feelings of anxiety have lessened so much.  I’m starting to go on interviews for volunteer positions.

I’m seeing Dr. G on Wednesday so hopefully we can straighten this out.  I know it’s a form of mania so finding a solution is number one on our list of discussions.

I anticipate things going well very soon.  Hey baby, I’m still here.  🙂

Ninety-Eight


The countdown begins to my 100th post. I think this post is leading up to it.  I kinda want to look back a bit; how life has been treating me and how I’ve been treating life.  It’s gonna be kind of whiney so be ready for that. There are positive things too so don’t worry and keep reading okay?  I have a question for you at the end.

I’m sure most, if not all who read my blog know that I HAVE and live with bipolar disorder and I refuse to use the term I AM bipolar.  Having bipolar disorder does not totally make up who I am although it sure rears its ugly head a lot of the time.  It’s affected my life in pretty much every way I can think of.  My kids and their attitude towards me, my ability to work or know what I can do for work, my finances, my love life and my ability to connect with people who love me, people who don’t know me, getting on that goddamn bus and getting out of this goddamn apartment.  Meeting people and letting them like me. Huh.  Just me liking me.

Choking down numerous medications every day twice a day for one part of my brain, others for a different part entirely and more meds to help slow down those racing thoughts at night so I can sleep.  Dreading sleep because the people in my dreams were loved ones I would look forward to; my mom, my dad, my kids, my dream house.  Now it just hurts when I open my eyes and tears have made my pillow damp.

I’ve realized that, in order for others to “get it” I have to get it too.  I’ve been learning about me so much the last few years, the last few months and the last few days and yes, even the last few hours.  Dr. G has been getting more direct with the hard questions and how I have to ask and answer them.  He’s not letting me cop-out of acknowledging my very positive progress. Still holding me back is my lack of self-esteem and how I damage myself by not letting more positive people into my life, hell, just more people in my life. Self hate is hard to release when its been festering inside for so long.  I know in a past post I talked about the sexual abuse I survived as a child and teen (the link is here).  As an adult, I’ve worked through what had happened to me and I’ve healed for the most part.

neverI will make it my goal to see my strengths.

I have many ways of sabotaging my situations.  Look at the men I’ve picked.  Well we really can’t look at them but I’ll tell you some of the common denominators.  One good thing is I’ve rarely have had any physical abuse from any of them.  The problem with living with bipolar is, in my case, my strong need for connection, to be close, to feel loved and the willingness to give up on my own self to get it.  Because of this and not finding what I want/need or imagine I did, I have been with too many men in my life.  With all of them I’ve changed myself to suit their needs and stuffing mine away somewhere inside.

Not a good plan, I found. My mom used to call it falling in love with falling in love.  That’s me.  No matter how well-meaning I am about “this is the last one” I would finally see how dysfunctional these relationships were and what it was I was ignoring about them.  And me too.  Don’t forget about me.

I will make it my goal to know knowing mewhat it is I want or if I even want anything at all from a person.  What can they do for me?  What am I willing and ABLE to give to them?

So what have I learned about men?  One man, he just wants it all; his “special” time with me and something entirely different too.  Not for me.  I could never do it.  I tried that once and it didn’t go well of course. I cared for THIS man and I know he cares for me as well but not in the same way.  A few days ago during a tender moment he held my face in his hands and told me he could never be the man I was looking for.  He is not my man of my future.  His needs were greater than his feelings for me.  I always appreciated his honesty.

Others were just plain mean.  Really nice to me but negative to everyone and everything around them.  Negative, angry, superior and definitely know-it-all  everywhere.  I would be feeling demeaned until that warrior woman inside of me made me see again how unhealthy these relationships were. and how they couldn’t last.voices

I will make it my goal to not ignore that voice in my head and the feeling in my gut.  They are almost always right.

Learning to love myself hasn’t been easy.  Physically my body has been going through so many changes.  I’ve lost weight, which is good of course.  With the evil menopause I have the usual symptoms like hot flashes.  I can take that but what sends me into despair is the hair loss.  My beautiful, thick, curly hair (which I never allowed myself to admit it was beautiful but secretly loved) was now half gone, dry and some curly parts are growing out straight.  WTF.

Wrinkles too.  I don’t like them.  They can go away.water

I will make it my goal to take care of my body.  I will appreciate all it can still do.

I appreciate many things about myself.  I still cannot believe the strength I’ve been able to conjure during the really hard times.  I know it was my creativity, (which did not die completely with my taking these meds) and it was my kids and grandchild with another on the way!  I have more reasons to live than to die.

I’ve learned that many things are beyond my control but that doesn’t mean everything is.

My goal is to know my limitations and find ways to work around or with them.

So this will be the end of this post and I hope to write my 99th post very soon.  I would like to know what readers would like to see in the next post or even the one after that. Regardless, I hope you keep coming back.  Feel free to read some of my past entries too and let me know what you think.

My goal is to no longer hide from truth.truth

Housework


Wow, It’s been a while again. I guess I’ve been all discombobulated. Life has sure had its ups and downs in the last few months. Let’s see…

  • I’ve moved and survived.
  • I’ve discovered music on my TV and that is giving me a lot of joy. I never did figure out how to get music on my iPhone.
  • I lost 30 pounds without even trying!! That would be because of no more Lithium.
  • My cat is now home with us in the new place and that puts me over the moon…even though she had has some adjustment issues. I look out where I’m stepping now. cat-pukingNothing like warm (or cold) cat puke on the bottom of my foot when I’m trying not to wake up too much when I have to go pee in the middle of the night.  Or the yowling.  She especially likes to yowl in the bathroom.  At 3 am.  The echo I guess?

I had such a bad time before the move. I honestly didn’t know if I could make it. My daughter was at her wit’s end.  Neither of my kids Bipolar-disorder-treatmentreally understand what’s going one with my illness.  So they get impatient. They figure I’m lazy and probably even stupid.  I’ve done what I can to get them to get it.  I will keep trying I guess.

In past posts I’ve written about my mom and how her presence seems to be everywhere. Well, the months and weeks leading up to this move I know she was trying to help. I would babble to her while I was awake and in my dreams.  I was a basket case as only I can be. I was driving everyone nuts with my fears and tears and rants and being generally incapable of coping. Coping skills? What the fuck are those? I had no money (again), no food (again), bills piling up (uh huh again), welfare not paying me what they were supposed to. I couldn’t afford bus tickets or fare so I was even more isolated than ever before.

So anyway, my daughter and I were going through yet another box of stuff that she was urging me to purge and to which I would resist. “It was Gramma’s,” I would cry. She was relentless on lots of stuff but that always got to her so I used it a lot. When we came to some pictures of she and her Gramma we would both cry. Then, in an old purse she was MAKING me get rid of, there they were.  The crystals.

stonesOf course there is a reason why I bring this up.  After my mom died, like pretty much right after and when I went back to work, a volunteer came to my office telling me she was moving in the next few days to London, England to marry her long time lover.  Same-sex marriage wasn’t legal in Canada yet.  I was glad for her of course.  We had gotten rather close the last few months before my mom died.  She always knew things.  She was very spiritual as well as a Wiccan.  She taught me a lot and gave me peace of mind.

That day she came in, she saw the sadness in my eyes that no professionalism could hide.  (Who was I kidding anyway?  Professional? Me?)  She told me about leaving and I told her I knew it was coming and I was so happy for her.  We hugged for a long time in my office.  We didn’t cry though.  She said she wanted to pull some of the sadness from me and give me some of her joy. As she moved away she reached into her bag and pulled out a little baggie with stones in it.  Gorgeous stones: amethyst for my mom, rose quartz for her and the blue quartz for me.  Spiritually aligned.  A beautiful gift.

Then I cried.

I hadn’t been able to find these particular crystals for a long time until I found ???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????them in the old purse. My heart flipped in my chest when my eyes found them and my fingers touched the little bag.  I whispered “Mom” and Carly looked at me like I was, once again nuts.  She just rolled her eyes until I explained it to her.

I think her head must hurt from doing that all the time.

It was like everything changed when I got up the next morning.  The hopelessness had lessened so much I could call my worker at welfare and demand the bus tickets I needed to get to doctor’s appointments.  I could purge the things that weighed me down in that apartment.  Our new apartment is rather cozy so of course I had to give up things.  I didn’t mind so much anymore.  My daughter even said “Mom, look at you” as I zinged crap into garbage bags and hauled them to the garbage bin.  I purged even more when we were unpacking.  I arranged movers and COMMUNICATED with professionals.

Suddenly things were just working out.  We looked at a great apartment for a great price and the manager liked us so much he wanted to move us to the top of the list.  It turned out he couldn’t do that and had to take the first tenants that applied.  He did have another place, though, that we could have first crack at.  He went to bat for us to make sure we got it.  He made sure everything was ready for when we moved in.  He was wonderful.   Welfare was paying for movers so that was great.  Like I said there wasn’t much to complain about at all.

Oh and I will be a Gramma again! (No NOT Carly)

Of course I am not miraculously better.  I am better though.  I’m still more isolated than before we moved but, for some reason, welfare sent me $150.  So I bought a bus pass for the next week.  I can get to the dentist to have my broken tooth looked at, see my psychiatrist (missed the last appointment because I hadn’t called for bus tickets, doh!).  And get some food!  After that I don’t mind not going out in the bloody cold.

Part time work may be in my near future as my wonderful sister figured out a great job that might just work for me and it sounds like one I would love to do.

Things are more peaceful in my head. There’s more purpose to my days whether I’m selling my jewelry on Facebook (Carly needed tampons) or actually doing the dishes instead of letting them pile up.

My crystals are in my purse again.

I am getting things done.