Wee Hours of the Morning

I woke up at 4 this morning to the rain outside and had an epiphany. I have become a fearful, negative, and down-trodden woman. My children...bless their hearts...are constantly criticizing me and I have internalized it all. And I'm tired of it. I've let them dictate and belittle and I've paid for it. I'll have a facebook page if I want it and Twitter if I feel like it. This is shameful and embarrassing but important. I am not at a good place and intend to change it. So how?

I just yelled at the dog. This is not good. I need a support group. I have good friends but none of them would believe my children are in any way at fault. But, then again, the fault is mine. I take it and swallow it. I ask for their input and opinions and they criticize me. I've always felt I was impervious to the put-downs but it seems I'm not because my self-esteem is at an all-time low.

So how do I change? I can take stock of my assets and accomplishments. I can review my list of things I love. I can make some decisions for myself. I can join Facebook and Twitter and the children's opinions be damned. I'd be criticized for writing this blog. No body reads this blog anyway. But I just want to "put it out there." I'm making a change...taking a stand. And writing this blog is the first step...

A New Title and a New Start

I'm still bipolar and being bipolar is still a large lens through which to view my life but I don't want it to dominate my life. There's so much more to me than that. There's my children whom I am still supporting and launching. There are my gazillion pets...two dogs, three cats, and a rabbit. There's my art (see it at www.catherinesartwork.com ) and my slowly developing book. But even beyond that, people with bipolar disorder are not crazy, or violent. At least the one's I've known aren't. I'm not.

So, I'm starting over emphasizing the non-bipolar aspects of my life...such as they are. I have one fear though...that I will find out that I'm boring. I have been emailing two men on Plenty of Fish and both were sending long emails. Then we talked on the phone. Now the emails are two lines long. Was it something I said? didn't say? who knows.

When I sit on the sofa facing my netbook, I often pause to reread what I've written or just to think. Invariably, Boycat, our 13 year old gray tortoise shell cat places his head just under my hands. He's very touch oriented. In the middle of the night he'll appear by my head and gently touch my cheek to wake me ...to pet him. That's all he wants...to be touched. I felt that way yesterday, waiting with my son for him to have a cardiac MRI. I placed my elbow uncomfortably on the arm rest just to be touching elbows with my son. He was warm and didn't move his arm. The MRI was not dangerous but any procedure involving his heart scares me. We don't know the results of the MRI yet. I'm praying that we find that he had an episode last year, will never have another one, and there's nothing we have to do. I'm a coward. For someone who's afraid all the time, I sure do fear fear.

Today we are packing my daughter and Sunday we are driving her back to school. This is a heart wrenching ...and back wrenching ritual that is part of the launching process. The first year, I made all the lists and did all the packing and staging. This year...her senior year...she's doing it all. I'm just loading and driving. My daughter has CP and doesn't drive. Launching is a challenge for her. I'm doing what I can to help.

Well, son and daughter are home with ethernet cable for school and propane tank for the farewell cookout tomorrow. Boycat says good bye for now. We'll be back.

Bleak Outlook

I may be in the process of losing my home. Ok, that's extreme. But I am possibly losing my disability. I worked for the Fed Govt. for 22 years then retired on disability because of the bipolar disorder. I've been living on disability now for 6 years. I tried working for 9 months and the stress threw me back into instability. Because I tried working, however, Social Security is questioning my disability. They are reviewing my case now. If I lose it I don't know what I'll do. I'm 53 years old...an overweight, bipolar woman. Who would hire me?

It's raining. It's been raining for days. The flowers I put out are happy but need some sunshine. The birds start singing now at 6am and sing throughout the day in the dim light and light soft rain. Even the parakeet is chattering at me. It's a good day for tea and hot biscuits.

What's the worst that can happen? I can lose the disability and not find work. My OPM retirement is not enough to keep a house on. I turn to family. There's the dark, gloomy apartment over my brother's business that my father lived in before he died. Would my brother deny me access to that if I needed it? I would hope not. There's a trailer there but they've probably rented it out. Maybe I could add a second trailer. Surely my brother wouldn't turn me down.

I should be reading and writing...not worrying. But planning on contingencies helps me put things in perspective. If the worst were to happen, I could survive...with help and cooperation from family.

I hope the sun comes out some today. I need it.

Sunday Moning

It's early Sunday morning. I've been out in the garden in the rain. This past week I put flowers in the garden, filling flower boxes and pots...manicly buying plants and filling containers...but it's nice. I love being out in the yard with a cup of coffee when the birds are still singing. There's a wood thrush among the trees that reminds me of my mother...it was her favorite bird, too. I don't have many positive memories of my mother. Of course she was an artist, too. And she loved the mountains and the gardens. I'm a lot like her I suppose...not an entirely happy thought.

It's a New Day

I did not sleep well last night which will likely affect my day. I've been manic now for several weeks, trying to hold down the spending of money I don't have, throwing out stuff I've been holding on to for years, working on the yard for the first time in as long, and juggling the racing, jostling thoughts of disaster and fear.

But it's a new day and I have the chance to decide how it goes. I want to spend the day working on my book and perhaps painting in the afternoon. I went to painting class yesterday and painted an abstract that most people liked but I find comical and irritating...but I painted it. It was in me. (It's too pink.) I'll try to post it later so you can see.

I can't control my moods but I have some control over my intentions. If this turns out to be another manic day, I may get a lot done but never actually settle down to write. Perhaps I'll edit what I've already written. That will give me some structure which always helps. Whatever happens, it's starting out to be a beautiful day and I am blessed to have a new one.

Too Many Thoughts

When I have too many thoughts in my head, I need to start writing them down. I'm writing a book of essays, poems, quotations, and artwork but it occurs to me that I should post them here first to get feedback. I'm wanting the book to be a book of commiseration for people with bipolar disorder...like this blog. If you see this blog and like what I'm doing, please let me know. All artists, writers, creators need an audience...a receiver.

The next step

The next step is for me to be honest about my being bipolar and my intention for this to become a place where I can be open about my life. I am particularly concerned about hope...the lack of it that I often feel and the need for it particularly for people with bipolar disorder. I'm not having a prticularly good night tonight and so the gentleness and hopefulness that I want to bring to others is not forthcoming. You can't give what you don't have. So perhaps what is being called for here is a little gentleness of my own...for my own sake.

I wrecked my son's car yesterday, Social Security is challenging my disability just when I quit my job, the market has eaten away my retirement, ...I could use some hope.

The Beginning...

First of all, the name...I haven't been called Kitsy since 1981 at which time I took my given name (which was also my mother's name) to sound more professional. I'm not sure I feel any more like a Kitsy than a Catherine, but we'll see where this goes...

I'm wanting to broaden my horizons artistically...hence this blog...

I already have a web site for some of my artwork... http://www.catherinesartwork.com but it is too difficult to maintain. I'm curious to see where this goes...