Manic Me

I’ll probably always post on this blog when I am in some sort of manic state.  That would be right now.  I’m trying not to over-plan, over-commit, or overdo.  I showed up to help a friend coach some high school kids a few days ago and I talked way too much.  Had to send an apology email and promise not to do that again.  But since I am “up,” there is no self-loathing.  That will come later.

Prioritizing is an important skill in a manic state.  Distractions are hard to resist, like a toddler with a succession of shiny balls hanging around him and a favorite toy across the room.  The toy gets neglected, and when that toy is one of my kids, it is not good.  When the toy/activity is music or baking or bike riding, who cares?  The distractions are usually household chores or cleaning that corner of the kitchen that no one even sees. . . .  I usually finish the main task, but the time frame is unusual and full of detours.

Most people think that manic me is the real me.  I used to think so, too, until a radio doctor described bipolar disorder one day and I realized that he was describing me.  Dr. Edell said that there are so many varieties of this condition, it was almost impossible to gather all the symptoms into one neat package.  There’s the mostly up, sometimes low hyperactive; the medium-to-low depressive and everything in between, including the full-blown bipolars who tend toward suicide at one end and crazy-spending/exercising on the manic side.  I suddenly realized that I was not lazy, not an occasionally horrible procrastinator, and not unaccountably anti-social most of the time.  It was such a relief.  And the beginning of my journey to find what was available that would help.

More about that later.

Bipolar 2

I think about this blog from time to time and wonder if I'll ever get back to writing. I had all the best intentions to make this my minimum writing exercise every week and maybe encourage a few folks. I then became discouraged with writing in general and decided that my very first blog post was more likely true and that I really didn't have that much of value to say. That may or may not be true.

I have recently been filled with a desire to help others in a way that is not easily found, on a subject that is not often talked about. Since a very famous actress announced last year that she is a Bipolar-2 sufferer, I have been thinking about what I might do to help those who have been diagnosed, suffer in silence or self-medicate dangerously as a result of this commonly misdiagnosed (or undiagnosed) mental illness. I have not kept this a secret from my closest friends and I have sometimes suffered from the stigma of this condition. I have been my own best guinea pig. I have tried so many supplements and a few medications, very few of which helped, but I have learned some very important things, which i intend to start writing about.

I'll start with the most important discovery of all. One can read the entire, fascinating story about this micro-nutrient supplement that has revolutionized my life and the lives of thousands of others here: http://truehope.com/default.aspx I hate health fraud with a vengeance and I don't believe this non-profit company falls under that all-too-common category of bogus health aids. I will write next about other things that continue to help me. Anyone out there?

Parenting quote from The Middle

I have a new favorite T.V. show. It's called The Middle, on ABC, and I finally got around to watching it today. I don't really watch sitcoms anymore and I almost never laugh out loud watching any show these days, but I laughed, OUT LOUD, all through this show. I recorded it because I love Patricia Heaton, though I rarely watched Everybody Loves Raymond when she played the wife. Just not a big sitcom fan.

Maybe it was especially timely considering what I came home to this afternoon. My husband (remember the reference to perpetual motion in my first post? No? Well, he is it) decided to clean the "room" that our 20-year-old lives in. Mark had a short list of things I really needed done, like a sink faucet that randomly sprays me in the face, but this is what he did instead. And he found stuff. Incriminating stuff. I tried to keep my eyes from rolling, I really did, but there were four piles of Nick's clothing in the garage to wash because, though they were technically clean, they stank. Many missing household items were retrieved (thermometer, serving dishes, our socks) and Febreeze was applied liberally.

We will probably not see our rebellious son for a few days. His bedroom is a pre-fab piney shack in the back yard and he goes to work while we will be at church. But it will be an interesting exchange the next time I stay up late to hang with him. Really late, like midnight. I had nothing to do with the ninja room cleaning; I get to be the good guy these days. But because we are living in the same house with two twenty-somethings and two teenagers (the teens are practically angels), The Middle was more than relate-able. It was downright cathartic.

Favorite quote: "Parenting is like being a cop in a bad neighborhood sometimes." If your children are not yet sixteen or seventeen, you will not think that is very funny. But watch the show on Hulu while it is still free! And laugh your head off or just get ready for things to come.

Oh boy, Nick just drove up. His new (first) car sounds like a lawn mower on steroids. Here we go. . . .

My first follower: Wendy

Her name is Wendy Corn and she has a sweet blog www.areyoubreathing.com.

I first spied Wendy the same way I first spotted my hubby, through a 650mm lens I used to take millions of surf photos with back in the day. Not to offend, but I thought she was a guy and that was a high compliment, still is, for a girl surfer. Though I never knew her very well, the Monterey surfing community is a big, dysfunctional family and as their photographer for about a decade, I tended to keep track of the "hot" surfers. Wendy was not only talented and quietly graceful, but her reputation remained dignified in a time when that was a challenge.

Mark can tell me a lot more about Wendy, having surfed Moss Landing and Carmel with her many, many frigidly cold offshore mornings while I was hunkered down, warm and cozy, in whatever little house we were renting in Seaside at the time with our babies and toddlers. Eventually, Wendy met and married Stefan, just as kind and dignified as Miss Wendy, and they produced two adorable boys. They became our neighbors here in Marina at some point. Always a treat visiting on the sidewalk in front of the house as they walked their baby boys.

So, here's to you, Wendy, for continuing to surf long after most moms hang up the wetsuit and for sharing your whimsical life on your blog. Let's get out and ride mt bikes in west Ft. Ord sometime! I think you would do better in relation to my speed and ability there than I would do out in the water with you. You still "surf like a guy."

Why would anyone want to read this?

I think that most everything I have to say is at least mildly interesting if not downright fascinating. But, whether this is true or not, no one is going to be much interested in things that do not pertain to them in some way. Unless I had cured cancer or discovered perpetual motion (well, I have, but that's another post), nobody is going to follow this blog to hear all about my Mom-ly struggles unless I can express a common experience in a winsome, hilarious or outrageous manner. Or talk about YOU specifically, right? That's just how we were made, and my brain begins to explode contemplating the whys of it. It just is.

So here I go in the babble of the blogosphere with alliteration, ambition and a good measure of moxie.