tHe haPPy grOUch

tHe haPPy grOUch

Friday, June 3, 2016

It's 5:30 am and I've already been up for an hour. I'm not sure what this early rising trend is, and I'm not sure I like it. Aunt Laura says it's perimenopause. I suppose it could be. I'm almost 43. Sigh.

I'm feeling my age more so lately. After a day of bartending, my knees hurt, my arms, my feet, my hips, my back...

Anyway...

I met with one of my prior college professors this week, she also works in admissions. Here I go again, maybe? One last ditch effort to get my college degree. Hopefully I can stick with it this time.
I've used much of my lifetime availability of federal assistance. I'll have to be very careful with course selections and make sure I'm not overspending my financial aid.

Side note...

May of 2011, I quit Key bank and started school. Early spring of 2012, I put my house on the market and rented Sharla's house. Two months later, I dropped out of school. This time last year I sold my Trailblazer. Early spring of last year I left my husband. If I look back at that last marriage, I can remember two other times that we split (more appropriately, he left) in the spring.
Now I'm enrolling in school again. And I've listed my truck for sale. I want to paint, build, write, craft, do something.
If my bipolar had a pattern, it would look like spring is ripe for mania.

If only it were just spring, though. I've noticed similar trends in the fall, when I also tend to shake things up with big decisions (sometimes disruptive ones). In the fall of 2011, I left my soon-to-be husband for my ex-fiancé (albeit briefly). I started trying to get back into music in the fall of 2014. Last fall I sold my VW. Last fall I moved out of Mom's and rented the house on the lake.

I find it less than comical that we always used to say to my daughter (about her dad)... "remember hunnie, spring and fall are his tough times".
Evidently they are also mine.
(And yes, my daughter is screwed. If she doesn't inherit these mental issues from either/both of us, it'll be a miracle).

Part of my therapy was that I was supposed to look for a pattern. I suppose I've found it. Part of my therapy has also been to put myself on a budget. I have yet to do that. Ooops. Part of my therapy was to "be still" during these times; do nothing. Go ahead and craft, paint, write, but otherwise, stay still. Indecision is uncomfortable, but sometimes the results of my "manic moments" are more uncomfortable. But I can't be still. I need something.

This is funny, considering these are also the times I tend to drastically change my hair... Cut it off, grow it out, color it crazy (I did just highlight my hair)...


So, my mania doesn't look like the over glamorized (and unrealistic) mania you see in cinema; I'm not jumping off buildings thinking I can fly. But trust me, that's not what bipolar looks like.
This is what it looks like. This quiet struggle. The disruptive behavior. The constant need for spending, for doing, for change. The discontent. The irritation, the anger. The (unpredictable) depression. The (enjoyable) highs. The scattered thoughts.  The inability to regulate moods and emotions.

I've recently increased my dose of Abilify. I've noticed no change yet. Wait and see. It's too soon.

In general, I feel like I'm at a crossroads again. I can't say why. I just am. And no, it's not because it's springtime.
It just is.

Anyway... in other news...

My boy recently went on a rafting trip to celebrate 8th grade graduation. (Graduating 8th grade??? WTF!?!?) You can imagine my anxiety while he was gone. Or perhaps you can't. It was unbearable. Sorry to anyone who I was bitchy with yesterday, it was a difficult coping day. He made it home safely. He's not dead. Although, one of the parent chaperones did say that a few kids went in the river. Somehow I knew one was mine. Sure enough, he was. He said it scared the piss out of him. I'm glad I didn't go. As fearful as I am of most everything, I would have had a friggin heart attack.
But he's home safe now. He's not dead. I can breathe.

Next week he graduates 8th grade. My baby, my last baby. Growing up and going into high school.
Sigh.

My other baby is growing up, too. She's 21! Holy shit! Jeezus, where does the time go???
She's dealing with some heartache right now. Boys suck. Although these scum needed to be purged from her life, I can still relate to the loss she feels. Loss of love, companionship, no matter how defective, is still difficult. I hope she can see how deserving she is, of better. Of more than that. I hope they stay gone. I hope she recognizes her worth.
I want to grab her and shake her and scream- LET THEM GO! In fact, I have. I hope she heard me.
So, which one of you has a nice young man for a son that would like to meet my smart, beautiful daughter? Heeheehee...

Work is good. Busy, busy. I may only tend bar three days a week, but I'm always busy.
We have two new girls coming on, and one guy leaving us. More change at the bar. I hope it all works out for the best.
I have to find a peaceful state of mind for work. It's been harder lately than usual. Most days I'm so tired of hearing my name called. So tired of people. The end of the shift is all I can look forward to. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I need a vacation. But I don't travel (mortality anxiety). I suppose I could just take some time off. I really haven't, in two and a half years. But I can't afford to, so I won't. Not to mention, I cannot anytime soon, with all the changes taking place.
So, just power through it. Know that it is a phase (even though it feels like a long-lasting one). It will pass. I will go back to enjoying my work. I won't be grumpy. I won't be discontent. Happy face, happy face, happy face.

Speaking of work, I should get off this thing and start my day. Four cups of coffee down, time to motivate.

Be well.