In the clouds

Well, things make a lot more sense now with the dude – I should listen to my intuition more, that’s what I learned from that situation. I’m grateful that I finally got clear evidence of what he’s been up to. I feel much better in that sense – a huge chunk of external validation. It’s funny to see how badly people behave when they get caught doing something wrong. Funny in an awful way. He wasn’t that smart, but I’m horribly impressed by his ability to lie, and distract via the trappings of romance. I guess we all got skills.

No matter how wrecked I feel, life goes on. I didn’t like him anyway, he was totally mean, it was only the convenient sex, but then it was the principle of how douchebag he acted. I swear, I really have had good men in my life, and there will be better men. Now since I haven’t had a heart attack and Belgium is a ways away, eventually I have to get out of bed to pee, and things start moving again.

Bummer that I started smoking again though. And I did have such a panic attack that I wasn’t able to sleep, so here’s hoping that I don’t get fired when I crawl into work all crashed out. It only takes a trigger big enough, and the waves completely wipe me out. I need help, but I have no idea where to find the help I need, because I don’t think it even exists. Fairy godmother? A new teacher/mentor? Religious miracle? I’m sending prayers of all sorts out into the clouds.

In The Clouds – UTIOG

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Follow through

He did it again; texting me and asking to meet, and then the next day blocking my number. I went to his house to ask him to please stop torturing me with the texts – my phone isn’t smart enough to block his number, and I’m on a prepaid plan that doesn’t let me block him. It’s super distressing. It was made worse when I showed up to see him making out with another woman. I stayed calm, even though I honestly wanted to slap him. I yelled a little, but otherwise I thought I did pretty well, all things considered. She sure freaked out though – no one likes getting caught in the act, and they both had very ugly reactions.

Yeah, my relationships with men are disastrous these days. In fact, I have lost so many friends in the past few years, and my mood swings are getting worse, and I have to declare bankruptcy, and I hate my one job and struggle with the other even though she’s super patient, I can’t manage my paperwork, and I’m basically homeless even though my friend is letting me stay here for free, I hate being a charity case because I can’t keep my shit together, and I keep trying but then I make things so much worse for myself. I had almost a whole pack of cigarettes tonight and now I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack and honestly, I think it would be best for everyone if I did. I know a few people that would cheer, definitely including the pilot, who turned out to be totally right. I’m a mess, I can’t fix it, and there’s not a lot of help available. I could take pills that wreck my life, or go do more therapy, but for all intents and purposes, bipolar disorder is a terminal illness, it’s just a matter of how much I can get done in the time I have left. Please God, let it be over soon. I can’t handle this time around.

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Biking in the woods

Getting time out in the woods is so good for heart and soul. And when life gets difficult again, as it can, I hope I can always hang on to moments like this one:


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It’s really hard to keep my clothes on when it gets this hot. I don’t like people staring at me – I’m intensely private and shy in a lot of ways. Then again, sometimes I just need to get naked and play in the river.

I just turned in an article that I’ve been stressing over for weeks, and the relief is enormous. Even though I have a zillion things still to do, I think I might just play hooky and ditch everything.

A funny aspect of having such a long term illness, is that I expect to die all the time. It does give a fairly wonderful gift of fearlessness though – all those extreme sports did great things for my brain chemicals.

I’m super grateful that I have such idealism and hope for humanity – lots of people with severe mental illnesses tap too much into the dark side, particularly via drugs, alcohol, and bad habits. Go towards the light! There’s cake and more fun there! Hmmm, speaking of that, maybe I’ll take some cupcakes to the charming press liason at the museum who gave me such a great tour…

Holy shit, that island visit made me feel so much better – yay! I knew I just needed a walk on the beach and to bike through the woods on my favorite trails. Phew. Now I’m going to walk on a different beach, wearing even less of that bikini. Jumping in the water always makes me feel baptized and reborn all over again.

If nothing else, being bipolar enables me to feel shit very intensely, and I totally enjoy the times on the upper end. It helps during the times I’m at the other end, when life is gritty and painful. Not today though, wahooo.

Love to all

Dreaming – OMD
Extraordinary Way (Antillas Mix, not the club version) -Conjure One

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What a wonderful gift to be able to pass through quietly. Like a ghost, but a happy one. I didn’t sleep at all the night before, wondering if it was a stupid idea, worried about money, freaking out that I would run into one of the three pilots, or anyone who knew me. In the end, I just said fuck it, and hit the road at 4:30am. I almost went to Mt St Helens instead, but I’m glad I didn’t. I just needed to go home. I missed the island a lot, and it made my soul feel better to go back.

I did do a lot of ridiculous things to try and stay under the radar. My hair is different, I wore a hat and sunglasses on base, and I was driving a different car. I even pulled the battery out of my phone and didn’t use any credit or debit cards until I was almost ready to leave the island. I had too many freaky things happen up there to be entirely comfortable. On the other hand, I’m completely predictable and non-threatening, so if anyone was paying attention (they weren’t), it wouldn’t matter much anyway. I also took the precaution of stashing my weed on the beach under a log before I went on base- duh. I almost didn’t go do that part, but I was willing to risk pissed-off pilots in order to get some good photos. I was nervous the whole time, but it’s been so long and people are so busy, of course I could disappear in the huge crowd. Phew.

The first and last thing I do when I go there is walk on the beach. My favorite beach has access points at both ends, and I used to have days where I would alternate between and sometimes walk all the way back and forth. This time I swam at one and walked on the other, and soaked up the sound of the ocean, the feel of the hot sun. That stocked me up for a while. Then I did the thing that’s been bugging me for years; I took a letter to my old neighbor, saying how upset I was when he made fun of my suicide attempt. I was pretty gentle, but only because time has dulled some of the pain and outrage. It was funny that even though he knew me for years, he didn’t even recognize me. I wonder how he reacted when he opened the card and read that note. I’m ok not knowing.

And then, I went to my favorite park and rode around on the forest trails for a while. Luckily my mountain bike could dismantle and fit in my rental car – I needed the ride to help process some of the emotions. I popped out on the cliff side overlooking the water, and just felt the breeze blow it all away. Time doesn’t heal fast enough, but travel helps. And sometimes, under the right conditions, revisiting your former home can help heal a lot of wounds.

The funny part was that on my way to the beach, I saw a party for VIPs and I wondered if the one pilot was there. I never knew him really, we live in completely separate worlds, but it would have been hilarious if we were right next to each other without even knowing it. Thank god he didn’t know I was there. All things considered, I’ve always felt horrible that he was the one to get the brunt of my illness up there. I’ve had crashes before, but that was the worst period of my life by far, and oh lord. I know well that people never look at you the same after you have an extreme episode of either up or down, and holy fuck I’m sure I was a crazy bitch. I thought I was dying, I wanted to die, and I hated all men – I had no business even dating, much less going out with someone that I knew I had zero chance with. I set myself up to fail, and I was wildly successful that time. I’ve always wanted to apologize, but guys like that won’t hear it, won’t care, have better things to do. I did pick up a picture of a fighter jet though, just as a reminder of how bad my crashes can get. Given the years of build up to the perfect storm of shit that caused that one, I don’t think it will ever get that bad again. God willing.

Sometimes though, when I miss my family, miss my dog, and wish I was safe at home, it does get overwhelming. It’s hard to plan for a future when I still expect to drop dead of a broken heart at any time. Then I have a wonderful day, and I think I can make it a little while longer. I did get to hear my favorite radio station for hours – 91.3 out of Victoria.

Now I am back in the shit of everyday life, even more broke than I was, still not sure what to do, but my head feels better.


Walkin Alone – Charlie Musselwhite
Go – Chemical Brothers feat Q-tip





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The lunatic is on the grass: A schizophrenic golfer unwittingly removes stigma of mental health


Such brilliance, this one got me right in the soul.

Originally posted on takingthemaskoff:



“For no amount of our screaming at the people in charge to change things can change them… the powers bent on waging war against the poor and the young and the “other” will only be moved to kinship when they observe it.”

People with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia are the most discriminated against people in the history of the world.

A psycho is a derogatory term for someone who is psychotic.  Someone who is psychotic is a person suffering from psychosis.  Psychosis is characterized by a disconnection from reality.

That is it, that is all there is to it. A psycho is someone who is experiencing a disconnection from reality.

At first the term was “mad,” then we called them “crazy,” then “insane,” which became “lunacy” or “lunatics,” and then of course “psychosis” or “psychotic.”

As I have shared stories of the ancient days and how people with mental…

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Originally posted on hocuspocus13:

in_the_forest_2-wallpaper-1920x1200of a moral society is the kind of world that it leaves for its children


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“A Dream within a Dream”.


I love this blogger sooooo much

Originally posted on Americana Injustica:

Poe has always written words that spoke directly to my heart, creepy as he was…


 Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow–

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand–

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep–while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem


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The call of the open road

I had it all planned: my friend does pinup hair and makeup, and has friends to stay with the night before. They sound like wild partying swinger friends, which would be a fun break from reality. I am always happy to cheer people on, even if I don’t participate much. After we got a bit of sleep, we were going to drive over to see some airplanes, all decked out in nautical pinup gear. I was pretty sure no one would recognize me or care if I was there anyway, and it would have been excellent closure. A walk on the beach with friends, dropping off a card, and then ghosting on out of there. Then we would do the World Naked Bike Ride that night, in my red, white, and blue bikini with nautical body paint (in it to start, not sure if I can get completely naked in a crowd like that without a panic attack).

And now I think that as much as I feel homesick and need to purge that, and no matter how much I love the aircraft, I think I will either skip the trip or head somewhere else. Why reopen old wounds? I need peace and quiet and that would be wrecked if I happened to run into any of the pilots. There are a million other places I could go that would be better for my mental health. Since I have a car for the weekend, I can give in to the call of the open road, and what a glorious call it is.


Believe – Mumford and Sons

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More battle scars

Oh no, the date with the dude turned out to be amazing. I suspected it, but then found out his story, and that he was a marine who got blown up, and oh no, this will complicate my life. Well, maybe not. I might have tanked it already anyway. I had no idea that he was so into me, but he’s 14 years younger, and he still might want kids, and I suppose I could still have a baby, but I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I would love to have kids, but I’m terrified of passing on my depression genes.

The worst thing about dating is that it’s super distracting, and I have so much to do already, and I have such a hard time keeping track of everything. It’s emotionally upsetting, when I work really hard at staying on an even keel. All things considered though, I don’t see it working out – I have too many battle scars of my own. But after spending time with someone like that, it extra highlights how fucking lame and shitty corvette dude is, and how awful he treats me. Too depressing for words.


Battle Scars – Guy Sebastian feat Lupe Fiasco

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