my world has been in a bipolar downward spiral for a while now, frankly it seems like rock bottom can't be far away.  in the last couple of weeks life has chosen to screw with my downward spiral even more.  my mom, who i love dearly, has been having some health problems that involve her heart.  we can't seem to find out what is going on with that.  my son fell off a trampoline , doing a header into a bunch of rocks and busting his head open in three places.  the doctor at the hospital chose to only sew up two of the three places because one of them is in his hair so if it scars badly, it will be covered by his hair.  he got 8 stitches, and thinks it is the coolest thing in the world.  took ten years off of me though.  my car tore up and may possibly have a blown motor, we can't afford a new car for me.  at all.  on top of all of this, every bill we have has gone up in the last two weeks, including our FIXED RATE mortgage by over a hundred dollars a month.  so an already bad situation has been made worse.  i think i can reach out and feel the shrarp edges of the rocks that make up rock bottom.  i'm right there and i don't know what i can do to cushion the fall or to even prevent it at this stage.  i tried to talk to david about it, i explained that i had been feeling depressed for a while now and that all of this stuff with momma and then all of this other stuff started piling onto me and that i didn't feel that i could take anymore.   his response was to tell me to trust him  and to let him worry about all the stuff going on.  that does not take care of the fact that i was becoming almost suicidally depressed before all of this stuff started.  but if i don't act like everything is alright, david will feel that i do not trust him, when that is not at all the case.  i'm just depressed.  all the rest is making me anxious and even more depressed.  i  can't control that.  it just works out that way.  telling me not to worry is like telling me to not breath.  also, my mother in law informed me that the demon spawn, my sister in law's son, has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder.  that kid is as much bipolar as i am schitzophrenic.  they based this diagnosis on the fact that he knows the difference between right and  wrong, knows there are consequences, and just does not care.  sounds  more like a sociopath to me.  so when this kid, and yes, this will happen, goes on his killing spree, it will be announced to the world that this bipolar teen/man has gone on killing spree, unless they get his diagnosis correct.  i'm not even convinced he has a mental disorder, he could just be plain old fashioned mean.  he hits his teachers, he terrorizes the other students, he stabbed another student with a pencil, i'm still not sure why the parents of that child did not file assault charges against him so that he would be in juvenile hall instead of back at school ready to attack another child.  he will be repeating the third grade because his grades are so bad.  that is another thing... bipolar people are generally very bright, intelligent, and creative people and so are their children.  he is not bright, intelligent, or creative.  he is a bully.  he is cruel, vicious, and violent.  he is not bipolar.  he is a sociopath or a psychopath or just plain old mean.  i've never seen him manic or depressed.  those are the major factors of bipolar disorder.  you cannot have bipolar disorder without the depression and the mania.  he has never displayed signs of either.  frustration, yes.  anger, yes.  hostility, yes.  i know what being a bipolar child was like.  i did not behave like that.  i know everyone is different, but come on.  the same exact disease, you have a set of symptoms to go by in order to reach a diagnosis.  there is nothing similar about me as a child and this kid as a child.   nothing.  there should at least be similarities.  there is nothing.  he is not bipolar.. i refuse to share a mental health disorder with that freak of a human being.  i knew when he was a small child that there was something seriously wrong with him but noone would listen to me.. i guess i have been proved right now.  i just hope i am nowhere nearby when he goes on the killing spree that he will be going on.  the only question is, is will it happen when he is a teenager or will it happen sometime after he reaches adulthood. 

i've been wondering lately, what if i were to go back to the place, if something were to happen to me, if i were to fall off the face of the planet.  how many people would actually notice or care.  i've come to a degradingly low number of people.  if not for my husband and my son, i think my cats would probably make a feast of me before my body would be found if i were to die alone in my home.  if i were to simply take off, noone would notice except, again my husband and son.  they alone might actually miss me if i were to simply disappear off the face of the planet.  and as for going back to the place as we affectionately call it, i don't think even my husband and son would care if i went back there.  i would simply be gone for a while.  my family might miss me a little bit but they would not feel my loss that much.  my wider family, would not notice at all.  my friend heather might notice that she can't get through to me, a few other people might wonder at the long absence of contact but not think much else of it.  i might as well be an invisible person.  what close friends i had, have moved away so i do not see or talk to them as much.  so what is the point?  even on here if i go a long time without writing, would anyone really take that much of a notice of it?  i remember when john didn't write for a good while, everyone going to his site was worried and said so.  i doubt such would happen here.  i don't touch people's lives, i don't brighten their days, i don't mean anything to them.  i can write about my bipolar experiences, but i doubt i am helping anyone through their own experiences with it.  when i set out to write this i thought i would write about the things that i think about and how i felt and it would help me keep up with how i am dealing with my bipolar and that maybe someone out there with bipolar would read it and it would help them to realize that they are not alone in it.  i was so alone with my mental illness all my life.  i've dealt with it since i was a child and i didn't want someone out there to feel alone as i did.  but i think i have failed in all parts of my mission.  at times i hold back what i am thinking about,  i don't always put how i feel about things in here because sometimes it is just to raw to put into words, i haven't been keeping up with how my bipolar is doing and how i am dealing with it, i just know it isn't doing so well right now, and i don't think i have helped a single person out there.  i've totally failed at what i meant to do with this blog.  the only thing that has happened that it started out to be is it has become something of a refuge for me, a place to put down thoughts that i couldn't put down anywhere else.  some people on here might miss me for a while if i were to disappear, but let's face it, i didn't even put a wrinkle in the stream.  i'm not saying i'm going to disappear, don't get me wrong.  i'm just saying what if.  it's not a nice game for me to play.  maybe i shouldn't play it when i am depressed and down.  but it shouldn't particularly change the outcome on who would care and who wouldn't.

I hope that everyone out there had a happy Easter. We had a nice family cook out with my mom and my sister with her kids and then the children hunted easter eggs. And, believe it or not, we had actual boiled eggs, instead of plastic eggs. There were some plastic eggs, but the majority of the eggs, 33, were boiled. My son found the prize egg, which contained $5 in change along with a bunch of hershey's kisses. Everyone seemed to have a good time and my hamburgers seemed to be a hit. I do my own special mojo to them. It was one of the most relaxed Easters I can recall in a long time. So, I hope everyone out in the blogging world had a wonderful Easter. in all my battles with my bipolar lately, it was nice to celebrate a day that represented life, a life after death, however you want to look at it. but to me it represents life.

last night i was remembering back to a very bad episode i had several years ago with the bipolar. i was manic for months and totally out of control. when the crash came, it came hard, probably one of the worst crashes i have ever had, and that is saying something. i couldn't stop crying, i couldn't function. all i could think was about how screwed up i was and how badly i had been behaving over the last few months, the parts that weren't a blur, and how my son would be better off with a normal mother. i was tired of the pain, i was tired of fighting for every day to be normal, i was just tired. so i took a bottle of pills out of my purse and i took them. all through my life i have had a preferred method for suicide, it has always been pills, ever since the very first time when i was a young teenager and tried to kill myself. after that, everytime was pills. this time was no different. i took the bottle of pills, i don't even remember what they were now. i got caught and rushed to the hospital. they sent me to this pitiful excuse for a mental institution run by the state where i pretended that i had mended my ways and i now knew that killing myself was a 'permanent solution to a temporary problem'. the doctor released me to return to work the very next day. how crazy is that? i went into work and took an emergency leave of absence. we agreed that i should seek better help and found out who my husbands insurance recommend. turned out to be one of the best in the country that was covered under the plan. so i went there and they wouldn't let me leave, i thought i was just checking the place out. i was wrong. they kept me there, no toothbrush, no underwear, no clothes. i was trapped. no escape. i was in the looney bin. i stayed there about 8 days. they let me out, in less than a week i had tried to kill myself again and they were taking me back. that time in the hospital i found myself in restraints because i wanted a cigarette. how dare i want a cigarette in this fine non smoking facility that i knew exactly where the smoking area was at. i had spent enough time at that hospital to know exactly where i could and could not smoke. some nazi nurse had a bad day when she decided to fuck with me. they had to pump me full of enough drugs to calm down a person on pcp and i still fought them. i went into a full out psychotic episode. i don't remember past this bitch yammering at me that i couldn't smoke. i was in icu to let my heart regulate because i had done some damage to it in the suicide attempt. i don't recall, i passed out in er and woke up in icu, i missed the stomach pump and all. not that i am complaining. i was barely conscious for the trip in. oh well. so i lived. for better or worse. i went back to the place as we call it and was there for the rest of the summer. i haven't worked since then, i haven't been fully stable since then. isn't that a crock? they have played with my meds and have not found the right combo in all this time to get me stable. i may feel ok for a bit here and there, but always the racing thoughts and the crashes into mindless horrible darkness. i can't win and i can't end it because i have promises to keep. i swore i would be here in case i passed this curse on to my son. so that he would not be alone as i was alone. so if he is clear, i am free, if he is not, then i am bound here. either way i am here for the foreseeable future. i have to live with the pain of my body and the pain of my mind, every day and every night. i'm not so sure that which does not kill us makes us stronger. i think we mearly survive it and continue to go on. sometimes we are broken by that which does not kill us but we have no choice but to go on. that is all that there is. we survive because that is what our bodies are programmed to do. to live. and some of us are programmed to die and we have to fight every day to stay alive and most people will never understand that because they do not have the same programming. but no matter what you have to know, if nothing else, everyone has a time to go, and the only thing is how they will go. if it wasn't their time, they would not go.

 i know that the things in my life still have not gotten anymore figured out than they were before.  it hasn't helped matters any that my son is home this week for spring break and showing me that he isn't the little baby i use to hold and cuddle up  with.  he doesn't need me for that anymore.  when i bug him i can still get hugs and kisses but it isn't the same as when the little boy actually comes and wants to have your love and attention.  he just doesn't desire it anymore.  he is his own person now and no longer needs me to validate him for anything.  i can't wait until he is a teenager and he hits his stride on all of this.  when  he discovers all of this, there will be hell to pay.  he is already so fiercely independent and so unmindful of things.  i hope he continues to see beauty in all things instead of just what he has just been told is suppose to be beautiful.  i don't want him to go by some preconceived notion of beauty.  right now he doesn't have one.  he sees beauty in all kinds of things around him and i hope he stays that way.