Wednesday, August 27

Home A'lonely

MD visited his family in Pittsburgh for a few days. He left Wednesday night and returned Monday night. It was the first time I was in our apartment by myself.

Guess what?

I didn't like being without him AT ALL. I missed him so much that I cried a little everyday. Is that romantic or pathetic?

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't in the fetal position hiding under the bed or anything. I had lunch with Breen and Bacon, walked around the neighborhood a lot, finished reading Harry Potter, went out to lunch on my lonesome. All of the things I'd normally do had I still been single in Delilah. The difference is I wouldn't have felt so damn lonely.

I rarely ever feel lonely. I couldn't remember the last time I did, so I actually searched Thighs by "lonely" to find out. I figured I would have blogged about it.

I did. The last time I felt lonely was May 29, 2009. How lucky am I??? That was when Bacon stayed with me in my apartment for a month. So there ya have it! It's cohabitation's fault! Moral of the story - live alone forever!!

Just kidding. I guess it's obvious that with every new chapter in life there will be new feelings and perspectives. I just didn't realize how many.

This weekend I was scared of becoming codependent, that I was going to be one of those women who can't do shit without their man. I've always been so independent and carefree, doing whatever the fuck I want when I want. But what happens if I was independent only because I was forced to be because I was single?
That doesn't seem right, though. Not all single women are independent. I don't know many who would travel to new cities by themselves. And I do plenty of things without MD, like go to museums, movies, shows, and ballgames. I just prefer he was with me, so we can share the experience together.

That's it!! I'm not codependent! I'm an independent woman who is in love and feels lonely when my boyfriend isn't around. That's completely acceptable normal person behavior! PHEW!

Friendshit

I always seem to have one friend who is hurting my feelings at any given moment. It usually starts with seeing pictures on social media from a dinner/bar night/house party/trip I wasn't invited to.

I immediately feel hurt, then think well why WASN'T I invited? I'm in that crew of friends. If I invited one of the crew somewhere, I have and would always extend the invite to the entire crew.

Then I think, okay, maybe it was just an oversight this time.

Then it keeps happening.

Usually around the third time I feel completely left out and slighted. Then I start to think well, maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I didn't do enough to keep the friendship going.

So I reach out. If I don't hear back or get a terse response, I know it's done for whatever reason. If I get a sure, let's hang out, I'm golden.

We hang out and have a nice time. A few days later social media shows me I wasn't invited to the next shindig.

WTF? 

I'm 36 years old and I still get hurt by "friends". Isn't that sad? I truly don't know how to stop letting stuff like this affect me.

I want answers to everything in life. I need to know why why why at all times. My gut reaction to disappointment is to confront the situation to find a resolution. This time around I'm wondering if I really need to do that.

If I have an issue with a friend who I've known and been close to for a long time, I'd confront her in a heartbeat. We have way too much history to throw it away and in that case, I'd HAVE TO know what the hell was up.

But if the friend is fair-weathered, why do I care so much? Say I did confront them. What would I learn?

If I did something wrong and didn't know it, I'd immediately apologize. Do I want to be friends with someone who isn't woman enough to address the situation from the start, though?

If I didn't do something wrong and I just wasn't thought of, then what? Do I want to be added to the next guest list just because I whined about it?  Who wants to be invited to something out of pity? Do I want to be invited just so I can say no?

Blah.

What I should really be exploring is, why give so much time and energy to someone who doesn't deserve it?

Whenever I'm hurt by someone I try to remember that I have many, many wonderful friends in my life and that I don't need to focus my energy on one bad egg.

I also try to be a good friend, too. I like to think I am one. You can tell me anything and I won't judge you. Anyone who's read this blog from the start knows I am the last person to pass judgment! I also make a point of keeping in touch and hanging out when possible. I do bail on plans sometimes, but that's only when I don't feel well. Between my mental and stomach problems, I sadly get sick more often than I'd like at times.

Why is it so much easier to focus on negative people? Is it easier for everyone or just me? 

Wednesday, August 13

I Want to Live by Erika Moen

Not even an hour after I wrote my last post, I find I Want to Live in my newsfeed.

The struggle is real. And I am not alone.


Robin Williams and Me

Robin Williams passed away this week from an apparent suicide. It's hard to comprehend.  Like most celebrity deaths this is a public reminder that we are mortal, that dying is a part of living.

For those of us with mental illness, it's a reminder that our struggle is very real and sadly, can lead to fatal consequences.

I've been wanting to write all over Facebook about what it's like to have depression, to be diagnosed as bipolar, to me me me his death. I want to shout and scream and say HEY, this isn't one random case, many people suffer, and two weeks from now when you're posting dancing cat videos, I will still be struggling to stay afloat.  I didn't do it, though. I'm not sure why. I guess it makes me feel more self-absorbed to declare things like this on social media rather than my personal blog. Maybe I'm a little embarrassed, too.  I don't think I've ever "came out" before other than here.

When I was diagnosed as bipolar in January it was, naturally, bittersweet. On the one hand I finally understood why I have such intense emotions and manic behavior. On the other, I felt like my whole life was a lie. Who am I really? Who would I be without my ups and downs? Was I born this way or was it learned behavior to survive my childhood? If I was emotionally stable, would I have left so many jobs? Had sex for sport? Speak my mind? What does emotional stability feel like? Will I know it when I have it?  Will I ever be free to be me, whoever "me" is?

It seems the real confusion over Robin Williams' death is understanding how a hilarious man who brought so much joy to people can suffer to the point of no return. The quick answer is to say he was wearing a mask to hide his pain, the old sad clown idea. I don't think this is true, though. At least it's not for me. When I am up I truly feel positive, joyful, connected, and loved. When I am down I truly feel hopeless, despair, depressed, and angry. There are no masks. I've always been a mood ring and could never hide shit about how I feel. And I bet Robin was the same way. Or maybe I just want him to be like me.

This year has been really hard. I started weaning off Zoloft in August, then went to Lamictal in January. I was all over the dosage spectrum starting from 25mg going up to 300mg back down to 50mg. I was down all of the time. My depression, anxiety, anger, and irritability were awful. I hated the world and I hated myself. If I did laugh and smile, it was involuntary. I never really felt like I was doing either, if that makes sense. I didn't want to do anything, except curl up and hide. Basically I didn't want to exist. Thankfully I never reached the point of being suicidal. I wanted to vanish, but not die.

Risperdal was thrown into the mix at some point. I started taking one as needed to help me through my panic attacks. Now I'm on 75mg of Lamictal once a day and .25mg of Risperdal twice a day. I'm happy (YES HAPPY!) to report I feel much better now. I've been on this regimen for three weeks and feel more up than I have all year. I still have some issues, but at least I'm heading in the right direction. It has not been easy trying to find the best dosage. Maybe I'm not even on the best, but I'm definitely on better ones. I hear this is a very minimal amount of medication, so I guess I'm lucky? I don't know...

Lucky to me is MD, who can feel happy, angry, sad, anything without questioning if he's too happy, too angry, too sad, too anything. Lucky is someone who doesn't doubt what they feel and think is real or valid. Lucky is someone who can simply be.

But do I really think having a mental illness is unlucky? Since I'm feeling good, no it's not unlucky. It's a shame to have to go through this, but it is what it is. If I asked myself this a month ago, I'd probably say fuck you you fucking fucktard.

I don't know how I want this post to end. Maybe it's because I don't know how my life with mental illness will end. I hope for the sake of my family and friends, it does not end in suicide. I know this must be a horrible thing to read, but unfortunately it could be the path I take. It could be the path for anyone, really.

Hopefully Robin Williams' death will reduce the likelihood of this happening. Maybe now there will be more awareness and acceptance of those suffering, as well as financial investments into clinical trials and making mental healthcare more affordable. If I didn't have help, I don't know where I would be.

If you or someone you know needs help, please call the Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You’ll be connected to a skilled, trained counselor at a crisis center in your area, anytime 24/7.

Wednesday, July 30

Work from "Home"

When Harpoon moved downtown, my department decided to give us a work from home day for morale. Such an awesome gesture. I picked Wednesdays to break up the week. WHIP'EM OUT WEDNESDAYS! "EM" are my thighs not my breasts, though. I never wear pants when I'm home. This is probably why I never have guests either.


Home. Living with MD has been wonderful. Sincerely. I love waking up with him, snuggling as we watch TV, cooking (!!), going to bed together. My favorite is hearing the door unlock and knowing he's home. It is everything I imagined it would be. Of course there are things I didn't imagine, but I'll get to that.

Yesterday was our six month moveversary. It feels like I moved ages ago. While I love living with MDLL, I really, really miss my old apartment.

Delilah Foray was the first place I ever truly felt at home. I never felt at ease in Jackson. I really liked my college apartment, but it was a shithole, I had 3-6 roommates at various times, and I was rarely sober. My grandmother's apartment in Bay Ridge was comforting because I felt her spirit with me, but I only stayed there a few days a week to get away from my parents and shorten my commute from NJ. It wasn't until I moved to Astoria that my life changed.

"Home" became somewhere I was safe. Somewhere I was free to be my true self. Somewhere without pain, confrontation, and stress. Somewhere that gave me strength. I never knew a happy and healthy home could do this because I never had one before. 

I have a habit of naming inanimate objects. It's kind of my thing. It was different when I named my apartment, though. It somehow had more power and impact. Delilah Foray was more than my home. She became my best friend and now she's gone.

We decided I should move into MD's place for financial reasons. Delilah was cheaper, but his apartment was only a couple hundred more a month for two bedrooms rather than one. It is a nice place and as everyone who's visited has said (I do actually have guests), it's an upgrade. Dee was an old apartment with lots of decorative molding and scratched up wooden floors. MD's place was renovated a few years ago and has a cleaner updated look. I guess.

I realize now we should have gotten a new place. If you're money-focused, then moving into a cheaper apartment is probably all that matters. If you're like me, and looking for a safe-haven, then don't take the easy and cheap route. Find a place that speaks to you. MD's apartment doesn't. Or maybe I'm just not listening.

Maybe it would have helped if I had all of my stuff here. Delilah's furniture was hand me down, so I tossed it all except for my bed, desk, and bookcase. They are set up in the second bedroom along with most of my other belongings. I guess I feel a bit like my stuff is banished to the room we never use. Actually I don't know why I never use it. Huh. I need to make a point to hang out in there more often.

I also don't really like the layout. The stove shares the wall with the bedroom. How is that possible?? I've never heard of such a thing. I asked MD if we can switch the bedroom and living room, but the living room faces the street so it's super loud. Oh that's another thing. Our building is an "H" design, and we are in the "-" part so we don't have a view or get a lot of light. Delilah was super bright with a great view and the stove on the opposite end of the apartment!!! She was the best!! WAH!

Our apartment number is 3EB, so naturally I named the place Threebio like C-3PO's Threepio nickname. Naturally. The name isn't really sticking though. I find myself saying "Bye Dee" still, then quickly saying "Bye Threeb!" as to not hurt its feelings.

I just really want my best friend back. Yeah, yeah, I live with my real best friend now and it's awesome blah, blah, blah. It's not the same though. Delilah and I were together for ten years. TEN YEARS. It will take time to get over her. Or maybe I never will. She'll always be my first true home.

MD to MDLL to MD

Obviously I've had quite the tumultuous relationship with M. It took us a long time to get our shit together, but in the end it was all worth it. I learned two very important things:


1. Never give up

2. Never surrender

Okay, I might have learned that from Galaxy Quest, but it applies to our relationship as well. I did not give up on M. I did not surrender to "logic" or the idea it was over, at least not until last January when I really was done. Then HE didn't give up. HE came after ME. That's when I knew we both would keep fighting and last a lifetime. 

So, in the beginning he was MD. 


Now I'm going back to MD. He has become the man I always knew him to be.

Tuesday, July 22

Stink Stank Stunk

I hadn't shaved my armpits in about a week. A strange oversight since I usually shave them everyday or, at least every day I shower.  Weekends are iffy.


Today I finally remembered to shave. GET THIS. My armpits stink! Noticeably so! I did not smell bad with hair. Someone look up if this is a thing. I'm too lazy to Google.

And I forgot to put on deodorant.


Friday, July 18

Buzzkill

It's Friday night and I'm home.  I didn't have any plans this week except for two therapy appointments. That's kind of my life now. Or is it? I don't know. I have this habit of forgetting what my life was like a week ago, a month ago, whenever.  The laps around the fishbowl are getting shorter.


I feel like the most boring person in the world. Why you ask?

Well, I kind of gave up drinking.

LAME.

Obviously I've always been a big drinker. HUGE. Thighs "Binge" McGee.  This year has been different, though.  I don't really want to drink.

I started my bipolar medication, Lamictal, back in January. I drank like usual through March, except for a week in New Orleans which was 10 times more than usual.  By April something changed. The urge to get drunk left. I don't want to get fucked up. I don't even really want to go to bars. It's the weirdest thing.

The first time I drank I got bombed off of Strawberry Hill Boone's. I was 12. So that's about 25 years of on again/off again drinking. I loved getting drunk. I loved beer. I loved being a barfly. Tonight I went to Crazy Ass to give a friend a birthday gift.  I drank two sips of a vodka soda and half a Captain and Coke. All I wanted to do was come home.  WHAT. THE. FUCK.

The only thing that's changed this year is my medication. I always knew getting fucked up was a way for me to self-medicate, but maybe the Lamictal changed all that.

Let me clarify though. I still do occasionally drink, but it's nowhere near the amount I used to down.  I barely drank April and May. Not even once a week. This past Saturday at my parents' party I had maybe 7 or 8 vodka drinks over 12 hours. That's nothing. MDLL's birthday two weeks ago I probably had 10 drinks over three days. So it's not that I'm done drinking. I'm done WANTING to drink.  

I was worried MDLL would think I was boring. For a couple of days I thought maybe we had nothing in common.  Our whole relationship was built around drinking until 5am. Now I can barely stay at a bar for an hour if I even bother going at all. When I told him my concerns he lovingly laughed and said, "You could never be boring." I'm smiling.

This would all be easier if I had other plans, but lately I've been a homebody, too. A sober homebody. I'll probably go into this in another post, but one bad thing the Lamictal has done was increase my depression.  Or, as Cee said, it could be I'm more depressed because I stopped drinking. Who knows? I don't really feel like doing much of anything, so I'm just bumming out. UGH UGH UGH. I don't want to be a bummer!!

Is this post stupid? I feel like it's stupid. Regardless, I'm so glad I'm writing again.



Tuesday, July 15

A year later...

I am so excited to write again. It's been too long. I've missed Thighs, I've missed sharing, and I've missed me.


This year has been nutty, per usual. Shall I do the rundown for old times' sake?

1. I MOVED IN WITH MDLL. WHAAA?? Yep, that's right. I am in a committed serious relationship and Delilah Foray is no longer my home. 

2. I was officially diagnosed as bipolar. : ) :

3. I finished my baseball tour!!! All 30 ballparks!! 

4. I started a new job at Harpoon last May. It's okay. I love my coworkers and I make amazing money, but I am having some of my typical workplace issues. 

5. I weigh 210 pounds.

6. I just laughed out loud after writing number five. Not at the number, but at my 36 year fixation with my weight in general. 

7. I'm 36.

8. I've read five whole books in the past two months - The Road, The Fault in Our Stars, Harry Potter 1, 2, and 3. I'm also 100 pages in HP 4 and 600 pages in ASOIAF: Clash of Kings. All this because Harpoon moved from midtown to downtown, so my commute takes twice as long. I'm not thrilled, but I am happy to read again.

9. I graduated from Wheel of Fortune to Jeopardy.

10. My newest hobby is doing crosswords. I used to only do the Sunday Times, but I recently bought the online daily subscription. It's only $40 for the year! The Sunday Times was $5 a week alone!

11. My debt is back up again due to all of my baseball trips. I'll be able to pay it off in a year and a half, if I try.

12. I spent Christmas in Pittsburgh with MDLL's family. It was a wonderful trip, but strange to not be with my own family. I never knew how much I liked tradition.

13. My family is good! There was a rough patch last summer over me getting back with MDLL before his divorce was final, but we are all one big happy clan now. I love that they love him.

14. MDLL'S DIVORCE IS FINAL, FINAL-FINAL, I AM NOT LYING THIS TIME FINAL. 

15. I'm surprised at the order of this list.

16. I am only seeing my therapist Cee once a month. We decided it was best to do weekly sessions with my psychiatrist Rah, so he can track my progress and issues on my new medications. The issues are a'plenty.

17. My coldergies I really bad today. So bad all I wanted is soup even though it's 85 degrees with 100% humidity. (I don't know if it's actually 100% humidity, but it feels like it.)

18. I'm all for pooping at work because we are human and that's what toilets are for. Holy hell though, someone's poop pooped because even with my cold I could smell the awfulness. Courtesy flush, people!!

19. Another new hobby is hating humanity, which is partly why I now have a team of psychiatrists.

20. Now that I'm back in publishing, I know why I left. 

I'm not sure what else I can say...is it sad I summed up a year plus in only 20 statements? Items? Thingies? Whatever.

It's nice to be back. I hope I stay for a while.

21. I learned I've been using "awhile" wrong. Example:

Friend: "I'll come to the show, but I can't pay you until next week."

Me: "No prob. I'll get the tickets awhile and you can pay me whenever!"

By "awhile" I mean "now" or "in the meantime". Like "I'll get the tickets now even though you can't pay me right away."  It makes perfect sense to me, but it's wrong. My mom says it wrong, too. I don't know how many times I've made this mistake in my blog. Feel free to count if you're bored!