Archive for the ‘Questions’ Category

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Road Trips

February 22, 2010

I used to love going on road trips. When I was growing up, almost all of our family vacations consisted of traveling many hours to visit relatives. We’re talking seven-hour, nine-hour, and twelve-hour road trips. I loved staring out the window at the ever-changing Texas landscape. I loved listening to the radio. I loved letting my mind wonder… imagine… envision… plan. I could dream big – as big as Texas. Anything was possible.

As an adult, I’ve also enjoyed road trips. If I travel alone, I love that I can be one with my thoughts – uninterrupted. I love the wide open spaces. I love the long road in front of me. If I’m traveling with my sisters – I love the conversation and the singing along (quite loudly) with Journey’s Greatest Hits cd (best road-trip cd ever).

Something has changed in the past year or so. Anytime I’ve had to travel out-of-town, I’ve experienced quite a bit of anxiety. It sucks! I’m constantly worried about my car breaking down or about getting in an accident, or I don’t know what.

To be fair, I have had a few issues with my car in past trips, especially in the last year. I know that must be playing a part in all this, although anxiety has never been an issue for me, previously.

Even when I ride the bus (because of the car issues) from my city to my sister’s city, which I’ve done quite a bit this year, I become anxious. I just want to be there already. I don’t want to go through the process. It’s just too much. I don’t get any pleasure out of it. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts. It’s way too uncomfortable.

In two weeks, I have to take a seven-hour trip with my dad and return home two days later. STRESS. My dad, whom I love dearly, will talk the ENTIRE trip. (Deep breath.) This will only add to my anxiety. The purpose of this trip is to get all my STUFF that my aunt and uncle have graciously been storing on their property – an apartment full of stuff. The thought of dealing with it makes me sick to my stomach.

I hope this trip-associated anxiety will disappear one day. Road travel used to be so therapeutic for me. I envision many trips in my future. I want to be able to enjoy, not dread, them.

If anything is possible, can’t this be?

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Fat, Fatty, McFatterson

February 19, 2010

It’s after midnight, and I just scarfed down two slices of pizza and washed it down with a Coke… sigh.

I had a thought earlier today. What if I inventory what I eat in my blog? It’ll make me more self-aware. Blah, blah, blah. No one cares about what I eat!

I should care, though. I’ve got to make some changes. I’ve got a freakin’ reunion to go to in about six months.

I’ve already envisioned getting up early to go to Shipley Do-Nuts… or Starbucks.

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Olympians

February 13, 2010

I love, love, love the Olympics! I get so excited when it’s “that time.” I watch from the beginning of the opening ceremonies to the end of the closing ceremonies. I watch as many events as time allows. I never get enough.

When I was a young girl, during the 1984 Summer Olympics, my sisters and I created a make-shift gymnastic apparatus out of our couch. I would give my best Mary Lou Retton imitation by signaling to the imaginary judges, running as fast as I could from the kitchen into the living room, and hurling my body into a hand-stand position on the couch. My sisters were both my competitors and my judges. Ah, those were some good times.

There’s something incredibly attractive and sexy about Olympic athletes. They are very hard-working, dedicated, fearless, determined, and relentless. Those are all admirable traits. Those are all traits that I wish I had. The reality is that I am not hard-working. I’m a quitter. I am not fearless. I am fearful. I am not determined or dedicated. I am ambition-less and undedicated.

Do I get to blame these things on debilitating depression? Are the odds against me because I’m bipolar? I don’t know. If I were being as gentle with myself as a therapist would be, what would I say to myself? I’m not sure. I just know I can’t let myself off the hook.

I can strive for better, for more. I know I’ll never be an Olympian. I’ll be okay with that if I can just make some real progress in the life that I’ve been given. It’s going to take work… a different kind of work than that of an athlete. I am capable of hard work. I have to dedicate myself to this task. My life depends on it.

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Happy Lately?

February 7, 2010

Sooo, since my last post, I’ve been concerned about my blog having a dark aura (for lack of a better word). I’ve been trying to think of something positive to share.

Dictionary.com defines “happy” as: delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing; characterized by or indicative of pleasure, contentment, or joy.

When was the last time I was happy? My happy moments comes in brief spurts, mostly. I had one this week when I was complimented at a temporary job assignment. I had one yesterday when I realized people were reading my blog. I had another one yesterday when I got to see my beautiful 8-month-old nephew.

This is a good lesson. So much of my time is spent thinking about how miserable I am… all the time, miserable. NO – not all the time. I do have good moments. I can tuck them away, and pull them out of my memory when I need to smile.

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Outed

February 4, 2010

I outed myself today on Facebook… you know the little info blurb that sits under your profile picture… I typed the words, “I am bipolar.”

I am bipolar.

I wonder if I’ve really owned this fact? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t feel as educated as I should be. I don’t feel as proactive as I should be – about taking care of myself. Let me be real: I’m not a proactive person.

I guess – in a very small way – this is me taking a step in the right direction – this blog I mean.  I wanted to start blogging about my life and my mental illness over a year ago.

Today, I start.

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My Voice

November 17, 2008

Well, it’s been a few weeks since I decided to start this blog, and I haven’t posted anything. I’ve felt all this pressure to know ahead of time what my purpose for this blog should be. Anytime I’ve had an idea for a post, I’ve immediately sensored myself. I seem very concerned about who will be reading this.

What do I have to share with the world? What do I want to share with the world? How much of my inner self do I want to expose???

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