Bottles on my bedside table…

Yup, they are there. Sometimes it seems like tons of them. Here’s why: I have battled depression for what seems like all of my life. Since I was a teenager, really, possibly longer. That might explain why I used to come home from school and just go to sleep. In any case, it has been a long time. And since I have had what can be qualified as three major depressions in my life (actually 4 that I have had treatment for), I will need to be on antidepressants for the rest of my life.

Recently I had the worst episode – I’ve taken to calling it a breakdown – and have gotten a new diagnosis: bipolar (most likely bipolar II, meaning that I don’t have super manic episodes). And so extra meds have been added. Here’s what sits on my bedside table: my antidepressant, of which I take 4 pills each morning; my mood stabilizer, just one of those each morning (larger dose in one pill, to be truthful); sleeping pill, which I sometimes take a half of when I can fall asleep at night, but I am not taking that one as much; anti-anxiety med, which I take as needed… sometimes a half during the day and/or a half or whole in the evening (depending on my twitchiness/agitation); and the new med that is for keeping me asleep at night (the sleeping pill was only working for about 5 hours) and which is a complicated combo of mood stabilizer and antipsychotic that works well at low doses for treating insomnia. Erm, yeah, I am on an antipsychotic med.

The point here, now that I have spelled this all out and made myself sound a lot more crazy than I really am, is that although these pills help me (to not want to stay in bed all day, to not freak out and obsess about every little thing and to actually get some sleep at night), they do not define me. Because the important part of all of this is that the meds make me better able to live my life! They make me able to be true to *me* and not true to the depression or the anxiety. They make it possible for me to write this blog! Isn’t that to your benefit, lovely reader? So that’s the last that I will write about those bottles on my bedside table unless they seem to stop working… if you see me writing about them a lot in the future, please slap me around and tell me to talk to my psychiatrist!!


Judgmental people

I hate judgmental people. First of all, my business is my business. Well, no, the compulsive over-sharing thing kinda negates that, doesn’t it? But I don’t put my business out there to be judged, ok? I mean, I’m not judging you for being on Twitter all day and having no life, or for wearing that cat sweater, or for your dumb haircut. Uummm… ok, maybe I am a teeny bit judgmental. I guess it is when people are outwardly judgmental. Like you know when you can just tell by the look on their face? Or by the tone of a comment that they make on Facebook or a response to a tweet? You KNOW you can tell the tone, right?

Ok, maybe I hate people who make me feel like they are being judgmental… you know, because they have that look on their face, or they have that tone! Because then you have to feel like you have to filter yourself around them… you can’t just be you! And, if you aren’t getting the idea yet, I really have a hard time with my filter. Basically it is broken. So then I feel like people are being judgmental about my lack of filter… and I can’t help it!!

Alright, maybe I hate people who make me paranoid… no, really, some people just have it out for me. There is reason to be paranoid! Really!

Alright, the point is, don’t judge me or I will have to have to have a smackdown…

Male cat doesn’t like judgment from furball dog, either


So yeah, I have red hair. It isn’t natural, but I get compliments on it all of the time… and it looks natural. It goes with my coloring. I love being a redhead… I once had a kid tell me that I look like “the” Celtic Woman

The Celtic Woman

Pretty, right? I think so…

So I had a thing with this guy that ended recently (that is a whole other post…) and when we broke up he was pretty angry with me because of something that I did (basically I told someone the truth about him… ouch!) His parting insults during his angry (and possibly drunk) tirade were that I am “fat, spiteful and ginger”.

Ok, I’m not skinny… and he isn’t Mr Universe himself… so the fat thing stings but it pretty much rolls off my back.

Spiteful? Sure! You push me, I push back!!

Ginger? Really?? Ginger??? Dude, I love my hair! I PAY to have my hair this color!

And I love this definition: “A ginger is, among other things, a person with red hair, freckles and pale skin. Some darker skinned or non-ginger haired persons feel compelled to denegrate gingers out of jealousy because a ginger’s look is unique. Men typically love ginger women.”

Yep, I bet that is what it is. He is jealous…. But, the truth is, he is British. Apparently British folk really don’t like people with red hair and calling them “ginger” is a big insult. I really think, though, that he should have considered his audience before lowering that boom… [insert exaggerated eye roll]

So, I leave you with an important message from the hysterical Tim Minchin on this sort of hair color prejudice:

Blogging – therapy for the over-sharer?

I have come to realize recently that I am, in fact, a compulsive over-sharer. Spilling all of the stuff that happens in my life, good and bad, seems to just come as some sort of instinct. And I’ve got those good friends that are always interested in hearing it and friends that listen and maybe just pretend at times to be interested… and then there are those people that I kinda know and I really shouldn’t be sharing certain stuff with. But you know what? Sometimes I do it anyway! And I don’t even think anything of it before I’ve totally proven that I am insane it is too late. Keep in mind, most of this is online sharing… yeah, I am one of those people with a big online group of friends. So I have these instances where I go too far and I imagine people running from their computer screaming and putting my pic out as “beware of this lunatic”. Yeah, I don’t really blame them.

But here’s the thing… this is me. Part of who I am is someone who lets it all hang out. I was out shopping today, enjoying all of the knicky knacks in the stationary store (you know, the one with the Christmas ornaments?) and I came across a wall hanging with the wonderful Dr Seuss quote on it –

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

So there it is… I am me and I’m going to share. And so I’ve decided to use this blog as my outlet for the need to share beyond the people who actually want to hear about it. And those of you reading this will be my captives willing readers because you chose to navigate here! Aren’t you lucky??

So let me thank you, in advance, for indulging this compulsion of mine. I hope you find something useful in all of these ramblings.

Here it goes!

So it begins… I am glad you are here to start my journey with me! Of course, this isn’t really the beginning for me, but the beginning of your part of the trip. And it will be a trip, I promise.

This blog grows out of a desire to share myself and the things that make this unique, authentic person. It isn’t an easy ride. But we become the total of the struggles that we endure, right?