My Bipolar Journal - Episode 22

So, I've noticed that I've been real quick to snap a few times lately, which has got me thinking. I don't want to turn into annoying "look at me" girl again, so what am I doing wrong?

I think I have figured out most of it at least. I think. I think it's because I've been so happy lately. My life is almost just the way I've always wanted it, I have the best Humans in my life ever and everything is just almost too perfect. I think I'm not being very quick to recognize the things that make me angry and not avoiding them the way I should be. I guess another theory would be that I might be sabotaging myself, but I think it's more the first thing. Either way, I need to refocus my energy into recognizing what makes me angry so I know how to avoid it from going there in first place. Hell, I need to avoid wanting to go there in the first place.

So, I just inadvertently found out that this is my last day on my assignment here at Federated Department Stores, Inc. Hopefully I'll have something lined up for me for next week and soon. They should really just eliminate this position. There is nothing to do. I know they won't though. If there's one position that will always exist it is that of secretary or assistant. People love having them. They love to know that there is some peon out there doing all their petulant, trivial things every day. They obsess over being important and that there is a food chain in the corporate world. It makes me giggle.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 20

So, no more shows for a while. Well, there are shows. I will enjoy them, but it's just not the same as doing stuff, being involved in the moment. There's still plenty to do, plenty to be involved with, but it's not the same as being in the moment of the show, with people you adore as friends and humans and musicians and just surviving those moments, if nothing else. I haven't enjoyed working so much for such a long time. I love that it's new, something different. I love knowing what I'm good at. I don't like knowing what I'm not so good at. So, the next five weeks I'm going to work at getting good at it.

For now, I'm exhausted. I'm watching Heroes, trying to get caught up and relaxing. I'm bored, but I kind of like that. There is stuff to do, but I'm just completely burnt out. Sigh.... enough for now. Going to lie around for the rest of the night.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 21

Okay, so I had a fat discovery on my body recently. I knew I was a little chunkier than I like, but I was kind of diggin' it. I weighed myself at the gym for the first time in a century or so though and I'm fat! I'm a huge friggin' heffer fat heffer pig. I'll get over it and all. I'm going to the gym and all that jargon, so I'm not terribly worried, but holy crap! It's like I grew another Human.

Going to a different trainer today. A girl. Ew. Don't know how I'm gonna like that. She seemed nice when I met her for five seconds, so I guess we'll see.

I feel bad about something though. My friend just called to tell me she's getting married. I mean, what I am I supposed to do with that? I feel like a completely moron when I hear about people getting married now. I can't properly give people the reaction they want. I just can't bring myself to do it. I want to shake them and scream, "Just what do you think you're doing exactly?" I mean, I know people are different and Dar might just be the type of chick to pull it off and have it make her happy. I just don't know how to be happy for her and I feel enormously horrible about that. Me and my friend, Dale, have been working on things to say to try to relay a binigne sentiment to engaged people, so that they think we're happy for them, but still are saying the way we really feel. I'm open to suggestions. Most of what Dale and I come up with is just funny. I want to be happy for her because I know that's what she wants, but I just can't feel it. It's just such a sham to me.

I've figured out what people want though I think, or what they think they want. They want this thing where someone worships them all the time, surprises them all the time with stuff that doesn't matter like jewlery and flowers and surprise vacations and sometimes you find someone to do that for you, at least for a while, maybe longer. Then you figure out though that maybe that's annoying though. I don't think I could handle that.

I'm pretty close to figuring out what I would want in a relationship though if I were to even consider such a foul thought again. I want a high school boyfriend. Obviously, not a real high school aged boyfriend, but one of those guys who just embarrassingly gropes you in public at the most obscure times. Or maybe that I get to give piggy back rides to through the streets of Cincinnati (or wherever we may be). Someone who makes an ass of himself when he's drunk in public and takes it out on me a little, but then feels bad and wants to make it up to me with amazing sex. Someone who says, "Let's go to St. Louis. Right now," and we just get in the car and go stupidly without a change of clothes or barely even enough gas to get there and back. I want someone irresponsible and fun and who doesn't have his shit together and probably never will. Someone who keeps me guessing all the time and is never the same person every year. Someone in a band that my mom and dad groan about and say has no future whatsoever, who has lived in his car at least for a few weeks for no reason and loved every second of it. Someone with bad credit, no way to entertain me except with small, sometimes illegal endearment. Someone that when I say, "Just hit me!" they actually do and then they let me hit them back. When I say, "Go away" they do and they know exactly when to come back. Someone who gives wedgies and wrestles me and doesn't let me have the girl advantage. Someone who pins me down and makes me beg! Someone who lets me stare at them when they sleep and grab their cock to wake them up in the middle of the night for a series of mind-altering orgasms. Someone who rubs my back..... every... single... day and knows they will be rewarded every... single... day. Someone who doesn't expect me to cook or clean or where designer clothes or clothes at all for that matter. Someone that takes me seriously when I say, "Let's just walk to New York. It's cheaper."

God wouldn't that be great. Think of what a great story that would be to tell each other.

Something is making me really uptight about all this lately. You see. I know these people. In fact, I know just the person to have this sort of relationship with, but he would never have it because he's not willing to admit he's like that. What a shame to not know who you are yet. In fact, I know several of these people, but they're all dillusioned to the fact that there is this one person, one love, buy a house, make babies thing. I can't do it! I can't get them to admit it because they've been conditioned! Why cant' we all just break the fucking conditioning down and be who we want to be? Every time someone says something about how they grew up or they had kids and that's what happened to them I feel sorry for them. That is not what growing up means! Damn it!

I realized just the other day how much I love my life. For once, I truly love my life. Do I get upset, frustrated, pissed, scared, angry, etc.? Of course! That's part of what I love about my life though now. I was writing back and forth to my friend, Mary, from Avon and she asked me what all I was up to. I wrote five paragraphs. Five stinking paragraphs! And none of it was bad. The only thing I could really complain about was that I still had to get up in the morning to go to this temp job 40 hours a week, but in all honesty, I really like my boss, so it's not that horrible. It's not me, it doesn't fit with who I am, but it's not the worst thing I've had to do to pay a few bills. Even Chris and I have been getting along really well lately. I am so lucky! I'm sure there are people out there who really think I'm in denial, who really think that I'm repressing and maybe some part of me is, but I've truly never felt like this and I don't know how it's bad. Forty hours of my life is nothing in comparison to all the aspects of my life I've been blessed with at this very moment. I never would have had them or known them truly if I hadn't gotten married and then left Chris. I would have never appreciated this freedom.

Some days are still hard, some days are too high, but it's all exactly what I want right now. I can't stop writing about it. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop at being frustrated when I think other people are dillusioned about what it means to really live. This is why people want to live forever. I wouldn't regret a thing if I died tomorrow, but for once in my life death kind of scares me. Losing all of this actually scares me. I know there's more out there that I haven't seen, felt and experienced and I don't want to go until I've done all of those things. I don't want to get old, I don't want to slow down. There has to be a way. I wish there were at least a dillusion of grandeur to make me think that and really believe it.

IF I COULD I'D WAIT!

So, now I can't even hang out with people getting married because their "fiancee's" will get angry? I have a friend who just sort of broke the news to me again and I just got pissed. I wasn't even nice about it. I wanted to know if he wanted house guests in a few weeks and he said, "I don't think my fiancee would like that." I told him I was coming with a dude or two and that it wasn't like I was sleeping in his bed. Finally, I just said, "Chalk it up to another reason to not get in those relationship things." I'm so fucking annoyed. Now I can't even crash somewhere because someone's fiancee might get mad? I don't even care if he reads this. It's just obnoxious. You get married and no one can stay at your house anymore. You can't have slumber parties. People can't stay in your fort. This man is reknowned for his Halloween parties and miraculously somehow, this year, he's not throwing one. I wonder what we could chalk that up to. Fuck that. Fuck it all. Fuck people that want that. I am so fucking annoyed. I'm just going to go to bed and hope it all goes away.

What is wrong with people?

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 19

Okay, just for those of you who are wondering. It was a dog. I knew they were stuffed dogs. They were selling bears too, but it was a freaking dog!

So, tired. So much rock, so little time. Tomorrow marks the end of a string of shows that I've been hittin' the bars high and low, on and off the road. Sure, they all have their points, but I am so going to miss watching the boys play for a while. Wah! Okay, whiney girl moment has ceased. Time will fly. There will be plenty to do. I will absorb myself in mindless promotions and efforts making myself even more exhausted than I am now. I can hardly believe my luck! This world is just not big enough for me. There truly isn't enough time.

Been going back and forth with this thing with my Papaw. One day it sounds like he's dying tomorrow and the next it's like, "No rush. He's doing fine." It's making me very passive about the whole thing. Growl. At the same time, it is sort of a passive moment. He has lived a long, full life. I hope he finds it meaningful and well worth it. Everyone has a time. My mom has this habit of texting me everything. Kudos for her for always embracing technology, but it's always stuff like, "Hi Jenn, Papa is blind now in a nursing home. If you want to call him...." It's a bit strange to get messages like that. Although I don't know why because I'm certainly not comfortable with any of it. I'm curious if she'll text me when any of my family members died. "Grandma died today. Call when you can." Even typing it makes me feel funny, but it will be an interesting test. And since when does my mom call her dad "papa". She's never done that before. It's so weird. I'm not getting any of it. Of course, it's a rare occasion that I do.

I am so faking delusional when I get old. It'll give me an excuse to grab all the young boys butts and scream obscenities. People excuse so much for old people. I can always be like, "I don't know what you're talking about." People will believe me because old people are supposed to forget things. It's going to be awesome.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 18

So, I'm fairly certain I entered some sort of vortex. I'm pretty sure I'm somewhere other than the Earthly Plane. I mean seriously. One thing, I have sworn to keep under wraps and so I shall since, this isn't exactly the most private of journals, but, wow. What a doozy for 9:00 am Tuesday morning. Hopefully it's done and over with now though.

However, the even more bizarre thing is that I get into the elevator and as I'm walking in with this old woman she says, "Do you think that one of the left is a boy?" It takes me a minute to realize that she's talking about a poster that has two stuff (what I thought were) dogs on it. She was asking me if a stuffed dog was a boy. We got in the elevator and someone she knew was in there and she said, "Those bears are so cute, I was just wondering if the darker one is a boy. I don't want my grandson to be upset if he would get a girl bear." Finally I told her that it would be whatever she told him it would be. Does she think they're anatomically correct? I'm very confused by people asking me if stuffed animals (whether they be bears or dogs) are girls or boys.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 17

Starting to feel back to normal, I suppose. Well, as normal as I get.

It's Monday though, so it's just annoying.

Hopefully, this will all end soon though. The worst of it is the embarrassment. I'm not usually embarrassed, so it's definately more uncomfortable than usual.

Spent all day Sunday (with the exception of a few short moments) recovering from my emotional retardation.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 16

I never decided, "Hey, I'm never going to be less than who I am," it's just the way I've always been. Sure there have been moments that I've come to the fantastic realization that sometimes I'm not being myself or maybe that I'm someone different entirely, but the unfortunate part of it is that sometimes that "me" is just plain fucking crazy.

I fought like hell, but I was defeated again. I thought maybe if I talked about it, knew it was coming that maybe it would embarrass me enough to not act that way, but things just don't always work like that. I thought I could do it. I thought I would win. I knew I had to because these people have not experienced me the way that they had to experience me yesterday.

I can make my excuses, chalk it up to bipolar, menstruation, hormones, weather, the control freak inside me and my uncomfortability of being taken care of, but all in all, I can't use excuses. Not if I'm going to win in the long run. Not if it's going to make me stay the way I am.

It's so easy to be excused when your a wife or a girlfriend, but when you're just a friend, there's no one truly accountable for you in a sense. Everyone should have someone that holds them accountable, so I guess that's it! Thing is, there's no one that's always there all the time except for you. I end up holding myself accountable every single time while the onlookers see a viewpoint that is incorrect.

Sometimes you think it would be nice to find that one perfect person who understands you completely, but if you did, then why would you need all of the other people. What fun is that? What sucks is when people have to relearn you. New friends are the hardest to break. Being the new girl is even harder.

Realizing once and for all that the reason you're so good at taking care of people is because you are so bad at having people take care of you. It's embarrassing to need help. It's even more embarrassing for someone who has spent her whole life only relying on herself. Even marriage would never and has never solved this for me. I'm an individual. I can see now that it's a lot of the reason Chris and I aren't together anymore. I think on some sick, twisted level he wanted to take care of me, but it's impossible to please someone who doesn't want someone else to do those things for them. Not only that, but repels it, rebels it.

Sometimes it's not fair, but what do you do, lie down on the ground, kick your feet and say, "Damn you!" or do you start fresh. You start fresh, very fresh, everytime. You would think it gets easier. Like you can take shortcuts now because you've been there, done that. You've won before, so you shouldn't have to react the same. You should be able to skip steps, but you can't. You always have to start at square one. While you can try to repress and forget how you behaved, no one else does, so you have to go back and convince everyone that you're not trying to make their lives hard, that you're not trying to just get attention, that you want to be something amazing in their life. You try so hard to be self-sufficient that when you can't be, your friends want to help and it's embarrassing. It's embarrassing as fucking hell. The more you try to recover, the more you know you're embarrassing yourself, but it's like you've left your body. It's like you're looking down at yourself knowing you're being and idiot, but you're not in your body anymore and no matter how much you yell at yourself as you float above, no one can hear you.

So, the question is, do you ignore it? Do you bring it out into public? Do you apologize or is that just recognizing it and making everyone uncomfortable all over again? Do you make excuses? What do you think is to become of it by bringing it all up again? It's unfair, it's not right to have to think of these things. It's not fair to not know what other people need all the time, but if we did, it would be so boring.

Sometimes my brain outruns myself.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 15

So, really good manic episodes are really, really good for most reasons you would imagine manic episodes are really, really good. It seems though that the more manic you are, the more likely you are to snap and I'm not looking forward to that. I don't snap like I'm going to go around shooting people or something, but I usually wind up all crying and weepy. Not a good thing to anticipate when you are looking forward to a weekend with people who probably already suspect your true insanity is still lying just below the surface (and for those of you who read this, you're right!). Especially with the onset coming for the time of the month that I'm reminded that, yes, indeed, I am still capable of reproducing. It's like I have this wonderful cornacopia of events coming on that are leading up to disaster, so I've decided to really open my eyes and pay attention. I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED! I WILL NOT GO DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT! MWUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 14

You know what's annoying? When people ask questions to people who aren't there. Did you know that was annoying? The woman who thinks her son is an idiot for majoring in music was leaving a message and actually said, "Have you had this complain from anyone else?"

No, some would say I shouldn't be eavesdropping and that maybe it's my problem, but I sit right outside her office. Sometimes it's hard.

I too though tend to ask questions to people with no answers on here, but the term is generally rhetorical. However, since I have said that and am mostly likely being the pot calling the kettle black, I welcome anyone and everyone to answer all my questions, no matter how silly it may seem. Consider everything I say a real question and enjoy yourselves.

Now, here's the 2nd thing. First of all, I apologize to the person who might read this and knows the person that I'm about to talk about, but it was obnoxious enough to take the risk.

I show up at the first bar last night to meet up with some of the gang. There is a girl there who I've never met before who immediately gives me a dirty look. I think I was too fat to be talking to her or something or talking to people that she talks to or something like that. That didn't bother me. What did bother me is that she's trying to be some sort of social worker or something for crazy people.

I have never been so bored in a conversation about crazy people. Usually, they're the most interesting conversations ever, but she was just lame. She kept going on and on about how I wasn't crazy enough. No, I admit. Not all bipolar people are as well-adjusted as myself in so many words, but it's not that I'm better than them. Maybe they're more free than I am. I about socked her when she said, "And that's just not normal". I don't think people like her are normal, so who's to say who is right? I'm sure there's a book on it somewhere, but still.... Just because a woman screams crazy things in the shower and talks to people that other people can't see doesn't necessarily make her abnormal. Chances are she's popped too many pills. I think the meds can make us crazier sometimes. Maybe it's the institutions fault for such things, the doctors, or maybe she popped too many of her own pills. It's hard to say. People don't call autistic children crazy although they suffer from some sort of brain function or dysfunction depending on your perception. They live in their own world, so why is a bipolar person considered crazy and an autistic person sick?

Needless to say, I hope that in my hey-days of nearly killing friends in car accidents because I was convinced a man in a red truck with one headlight out was following me all the time are over, but I hope no one ever tells a story about me that isn't at least somewhat entertaining. If I have to listen to someone else's life, I want it to be good somehow. Some tips for telling stories about me is to not be judgmental when you tell the story, don't leave out any of the details, and always be sure to use my name. I don't want any of my luscious goodies credited to someone else.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 13

So, most days I just hate people. People in general. I hate clothes. I hate everything about them. I hate the fact that I am required to wear them by law, but then everyone has the fucking gaul to make the most hideous, uninventive, boring, overly priced, God-awful statements that they expect me to even pay $20 at a discounted rate for. It infuriates me. Not only am I infuriated at the disgusting fashion industry, I'm disgusted that I have wasted any portion of my life in TJ Maxx. Who the fuck wants dig through thousands of endless discounted clothes? Who the fuck has nothing better to do? If I could be naked, everything would match all the time, nothing would be too short or too tight or to loose or to long.... Okay, I digress. I guess people would just judge bodies, but at least for the most part, there's a lot less to complain about. Maybe we would notice more of the shades of people's skins and moles and scars and judged based on those, but point being... clothes make me sick!

People make me sick too. I love it secretly. They sit around in their corporate outfits and say something about their "training" at work and then laugh, big, hearty fake laughs. They're not really fake laughs, but nervous laughs. Nervous because maybe they realize they have wasted most of their lives thinking this is as good as it gets. Overly stressed because of jobs they don't really care about, they have wives or husbands they hate and kids that drive them crazy. At least they bought a house or a car. I mean, that is the point isn't it? That's the fucking goal, isn't it? To be able to accomplish the same thing that literally billions of people have accomplished. YOU ARE SO FUCKING BORING I WANT TO SLIT MY FUCKNIG WRISTS! I need something different! I need something interesting! I need something that says, "I've never seen that before", "I've never heard that before", "I've never even thought of anything like that ever before"! I don't even care if it sucks right now, I just crave the need for individuality.

Sitting here at this desk staring at grey cubicle walls, hearing people have meaningless conversations, stare at my pants that are a little too short and judge me based on pants or maybe my tattoo or maybe my streaky colored hair. I want someone to judge me for being too dull. I want someone to walk up to my desk and say, "What the fuck do you think you're doing sitting there, typing away, saying nothing and pretending you're working! Will you please get the fuck out of your chair, stand on the fucking table, sing and do the chicken dance!" Then we'd all break into a Drew Carey musical episode. GOD BLESS THAT MOTHERFUCKER!

Everything is boring right now. I'm trying to work on the novel and can't find it interesting. I'm trying to get some work done, but I can't do it all here, so that's just frustrating.

I need to get to Target and buy shit, but I can't because I'm stuck here. Who the fuck in the genius that put no stationary stores within walking distance in downtown Cincinnati. Are there not like a billion business that have needs? Is everyone going to rely on Staple's to deliver for free all the time?

I have to get my oil changed, I need to pay my Cinergy bill, I need to go grocery shopping. I can't do it because I'm stuck here and even if I wasn't I just can't bring myself to do it. I hate the mundane feeling of buying food and the ritual of paying money for electricity. Have we not advanced enough that we shouldn't just get electricity for free? We can get free wireless internet, but we can't get free electriciy? Electricity was discovered centuries ago. Getting oil requires me stopping my car and not doing something else I should be doing.

Do you know I sit in the bathroom of work for nearly an hour a day reading a book? Do you know that I'm posting my crazy ass thoughts on this website for everyone to read instead of doing what you would have me do which is apparently nothing. You should eliminate this job. There is no purpose. I answer the phone maybe up to half a dozen times in a day, get the mail twice a day (only once if my boss is gone), take an hour and a half for lunch and maybe spend thirty minutes on this stupid report that I'm trying to strech out across the rest of eternity. There are days I don't even work on it all. If I can find anything else entertaining to do I take an hour and a half for lunch. I have wrote four novels in the course of my work day. This is what you people are paying me to do and I know that you're all pretty aware of it, although it's something we don't talk about.

All in all though, I love the annoyance of the day because it's different. It's not the same. Sitting in a crowded food court listening to people laugh about training is more relaxing right now than anything else because I have no desire to be relaxed. Who can be relaxed all the time? How fucking boring. I'm too cold, I've been coughing for days, I want my voice back. I want to be able to kick my feet up on the desk, shut my eyes and fantasize about boys, then read for a bit before I head home. At the same time, if I did that I'd always be satisfied and who wants to be satisfied all the time? How would I ever appreciate satisfaction when it did come along? How would I appreciate my friends if most everyone else didn't SUCK MY COCK ASS! I can't wait for that feeling to come back.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 12

Sitting at my desk trying to not go crazy and I do mean in the good way, of course. I have "Onto the May" by The Host in my head and it's all I can do to keep from jumping out of my seat, dancing and singing, "If I could I'd wait...." Why don't I? I guess I need the money simply. You do that in an office and eventually they catch on that you are cooler than they are and they can't be around that kind of coolness. It's a little bit like that moment in the movie Teen Wolf where Stiles surfs on the top of the van, even the part where you fall on your back and laugh yourself silly.

I try to always remind myself of how lucky I am, but how often to I remind my friends that they're the reason I'm lucky. How often do I get to sit down to some shots with someone I've been friends with for a while and someone I've never met and have one of the best nights on the planet. I started out thinking the evening was a bust because I didn't get what I expected. I didn't think it was disappointing by any means. I had great conversation, great wine, and a good friend. When the night ended it was unexpected and, okay, I guess a little disappointing, but I was rewarded.

This new person, who may have been my friend for only one night, but God, was it great, actually looked at me at one point and said, "What you're saying right now to me is epiphonal." It amazed me that he said it. He just said it like that. I can remember moments in my life that were epiphonal, but not moments where I was ephiphonal. Why is that though? Probably because of the same reason my friends don't truly know that what they said had that much impact because I didn't say it to them. I try to remind my friends of their importance to me, but I don't do it nearly enough and not to nearly enough of them. I think that every month we should have just one day where we tell our friends what they mean to us and thank them for making us so much better. When they say something and it means something, let them know right away. Don't wait for it. Go crazy if you must. Skip down the streets holding hands and wait for that moment in the night where you grab onto them and say, "You will never know how important this is or how important you are to me," make those moments happen as only you can. You won't be disappointed if they are a true friend. How can you be? Who doesn't want to hear they made a difference somehow? That is what makes life worth living.

Live every day like that's the only day you'll be friends with that person because you never know when it will be or when it's the last one.