Hanging out in Orange County, California is full of mystery and excitement. Not really. It's rather bland as each suburb looks like the other. It's easy to get lost because of the lack of identity the place seems to have.
What stands out for me is the train track everyone rides. Residents jog or walk along the cement side walks off major streets ignoring the exhaust wafting at them at rush hour. The reoccurring fast food establishments. The bi-lingual signage. A college which hosts a major swap meet on the weekends. The same family park on every corner.
How do the ducks know where to park?
New Year:
This year is different. Done.
No, it's going to be a blazer as it's an election year, and I elect to continue to not just talk truth, but shout it, sing it, gargle it-whatever it takes is the motto. Protesting, petitioning, and propagating fair play are on the schedule.
Several new stories or continuations will appear shortly after I, ehem, (clearing throat) deal with the computer problems which started last year with Hughes Net. Pradman Kaul CEO of Hughes Nest, took one on the chin on my other blog: Your Government Your Problem: an Owners manual.
There are many blogs to write, much ado with the current adornment, hand written, on the 5150 mobeel I drive around with a sense of myself. Who else writes with markers on their car? If you know someone else please do let me know as they must be a kindred spirit.
Upcoming Titles:
Sick Degrees of Separation
The Good, the Bad, and the Unrepentent.
Social Security: the oxymoron
More to follow....Laura Hart The Bi-polar American
Showing posts with label 5150. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 5150. Show all posts
Monday, December 30, 2013
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Just thought I'd slip over to my other blog to complain, my dog doesn't want to hear it, but hey
I know that most of you I have invited over here are in the mental health fields and are probably not shocked by anything I've said so far. I'm sure you've heard it all.
Today, I'm complaining. In fact I'm really pissed off at myself right now. My body has its own way of fucking with me, and when I woke up this morning to take a jaunt out of town, the pain was too much even to get out of bed.
I don't really like pain, though I work with it everyday. I use it to carry me through a rough day.
But days or mornings like these really make me wonder. I'm in pain from head to toe, my heating pad hasn't been of much use, and even the pain medicine isn't doing anything. FUCK! I will only take a small amount of pain reliever because I want to stay functional and alert.
After an hour of crying which sometimes actually helps, I crawled onto this fucking computer to have at it again. I don't know though, I may have to just go to bed and hope that the pain will be more tolerable later this afternoon.
Being the bi-polar I am I have two problems with this condition. First, pain triggers mania and then depression. Pain killers are so touchy I have to be very careful as to how much to take. Medications are my nemesis as I have had so many problems over the years.
When the neurologist treated me earlier this year for my squishy neck condition, (I'll call it whatever the hell I want to call it) they put me on steroids. Oh, so bad.
The first couple days were wonderful as the inflammation obviously was subsiding, then the problems started.
I can't even drink coffee, I am a stimulant myself, but the steroids were like an espresso IV. I couldn't come down and then my personality became inflamed. I thought I might hurt someone so friends kept me at their house for a few days until I began to be able to handle things, like "hi how are you?" My answer was "fuck you."
Steroids are now off my list. The only thing I can say about them is they make you eat. I ate so much that week, all my food, and raided other people's fridges too.
Unfortunately, had I taken one more of those pills, I and this community would have been the top story on CNN.
And other drugs are blackouts for me, I don't even remember, but yet people have told me that I talked, was seemingly lucid, and yet I haven't the slightest idea who was in charge.
A friend of mine came over during a crisis which got me my first 5150 of my life last December. The idiot guy I was seeing didn't realize I was not there. I had had a colonoscopy that morning and I warned those bastard doctors that they needed to watch me closely with their drugs that "everyone else" seems to tolerate. (I guess I'm just not everyone else assholes)
The last thing I remember was walking out of the clinic. Then a blip of crying and yelling on the canyon road. But then I was at our local hospital being threatened. I imagine they charged up enough adrenaline in me that I was able to remember they were wrestling me. Threatening me to the point I have the memory.
How I know its a true memory, was that I didn't know the nurses who were doing this and went to the hospital to find them. Yes, it was a true memory.
But my friends were called in on this finally, and she took one look in my eyes, and told everyone (I guess the house was full of cops and paramedics) that I was not there. She knew.
I came out of it the next morning at KMC. I was sitting in a chair in the hallway and suddenly thought, "how did I get here?"
I looked down on my wrist and there was a black hospital band. "Am I a pirate?"
The security guards watched me stir, and came running. I don't know what I did to so concern them, but apparently it wasn't good.
Later when the idiot came to pick me up, I had a good repore with the staff, and brought them out to see my car. They couldn't believe my license plates read "5150."
It took two weeks to get over that whole situation. I was embarrassed, depressed, and wanted to give everything in my life up. I ditched the idiot but not the lesson. Again, somehow, it made me stronger.
That was the week I began accepting myself as bi-polar. Oh, I wasn't happy at first, but then, I thought, hell yeah. It's freeing to just be yourself sometimes even if it is usually a sordid tale.
Okay, I'm done. Going to bed for a bit.
I had a sagacious 12 year old tell me last night I needed to take breaks while I work and take care of myself. I laughed and she thought I was laughing at her. No, I realized that a prepubescent knows more about life than I do.
Today, I'm complaining. In fact I'm really pissed off at myself right now. My body has its own way of fucking with me, and when I woke up this morning to take a jaunt out of town, the pain was too much even to get out of bed.
I don't really like pain, though I work with it everyday. I use it to carry me through a rough day.
But days or mornings like these really make me wonder. I'm in pain from head to toe, my heating pad hasn't been of much use, and even the pain medicine isn't doing anything. FUCK! I will only take a small amount of pain reliever because I want to stay functional and alert.
After an hour of crying which sometimes actually helps, I crawled onto this fucking computer to have at it again. I don't know though, I may have to just go to bed and hope that the pain will be more tolerable later this afternoon.
Being the bi-polar I am I have two problems with this condition. First, pain triggers mania and then depression. Pain killers are so touchy I have to be very careful as to how much to take. Medications are my nemesis as I have had so many problems over the years.
When the neurologist treated me earlier this year for my squishy neck condition, (I'll call it whatever the hell I want to call it) they put me on steroids. Oh, so bad.
The first couple days were wonderful as the inflammation obviously was subsiding, then the problems started.
I can't even drink coffee, I am a stimulant myself, but the steroids were like an espresso IV. I couldn't come down and then my personality became inflamed. I thought I might hurt someone so friends kept me at their house for a few days until I began to be able to handle things, like "hi how are you?" My answer was "fuck you."
Steroids are now off my list. The only thing I can say about them is they make you eat. I ate so much that week, all my food, and raided other people's fridges too.
Unfortunately, had I taken one more of those pills, I and this community would have been the top story on CNN.
And other drugs are blackouts for me, I don't even remember, but yet people have told me that I talked, was seemingly lucid, and yet I haven't the slightest idea who was in charge.
A friend of mine came over during a crisis which got me my first 5150 of my life last December. The idiot guy I was seeing didn't realize I was not there. I had had a colonoscopy that morning and I warned those bastard doctors that they needed to watch me closely with their drugs that "everyone else" seems to tolerate. (I guess I'm just not everyone else assholes)
The last thing I remember was walking out of the clinic. Then a blip of crying and yelling on the canyon road. But then I was at our local hospital being threatened. I imagine they charged up enough adrenaline in me that I was able to remember they were wrestling me. Threatening me to the point I have the memory.
How I know its a true memory, was that I didn't know the nurses who were doing this and went to the hospital to find them. Yes, it was a true memory.
But my friends were called in on this finally, and she took one look in my eyes, and told everyone (I guess the house was full of cops and paramedics) that I was not there. She knew.
I came out of it the next morning at KMC. I was sitting in a chair in the hallway and suddenly thought, "how did I get here?"
I looked down on my wrist and there was a black hospital band. "Am I a pirate?"
The security guards watched me stir, and came running. I don't know what I did to so concern them, but apparently it wasn't good.
Later when the idiot came to pick me up, I had a good repore with the staff, and brought them out to see my car. They couldn't believe my license plates read "5150."
It took two weeks to get over that whole situation. I was embarrassed, depressed, and wanted to give everything in my life up. I ditched the idiot but not the lesson. Again, somehow, it made me stronger.
That was the week I began accepting myself as bi-polar. Oh, I wasn't happy at first, but then, I thought, hell yeah. It's freeing to just be yourself sometimes even if it is usually a sordid tale.
Okay, I'm done. Going to bed for a bit.
I had a sagacious 12 year old tell me last night I needed to take breaks while I work and take care of myself. I laughed and she thought I was laughing at her. No, I realized that a prepubescent knows more about life than I do.
Monday, October 1, 2012
From Rabbit Hole Entertainment: Spin it and WIN it!
Spin it and WIN it!
We have spoken of \all these darn obSTicles, but what about the AL CHEMy, we don’t see?
I look for the tRUTH OF it, then the uncouth of it, then I REAL EYES, what is UP is Down.
There is LITtle in this life, Stuart, so you may EN JOY the ugly, and make it go away.
My friends, animaLS of some Repute, have reaped the REAl REWards card as they are recipients of My playful, loving charisMa, they get Happied up.
Then they Happily put the happy dust on me too.
Good Deal, out of a bad hand, of card sharks.
Take the Bite of a Shark’s tooth.
Last moment, cRUNCh time, Captain, is the time for you to GRAB hold. Let Go, let go, let go, Grab it Rabbit, it’s there in the HOLE as your pole, so dance on it.
In my hospital from hell scenario, NO Pain too large, as I was Enlarged in pain, LAST MOMENT: Thought of the pain of the whole world, children starving in pain hunger, tortured, the used, the raped, the pain of our collective souls.
It was in that moment I gave myself to this pain.
Experienced the Globe of pain. Angels held me that night, I don’t FORGET.
On a plane, a sudden outbreatk of HEAT so hot, that our tiny propeller plane in Vegas Or Phoenix, got suffocating, as I was Sandwiched, the middle seat, the WAVES of hot REACTIONs, then SUDDENLY: I was going to TAKE over the plane and kick in the DOOR.
LOL (Fucking crazy stuff)
LAST minute, Stop, Think OPPOSITE: ICE
It was sNOWING on my mountain of the WORLD, bringing True Relief to my HEAT stroke. Lol
Quickly, the Captain of the Baby plane, turned the AC on. WE all breathed a sigh, and I secreted away into my WINTER WONDERLAND.
Nobody, but you, knew any better what had happened. I DID. I learned, and earned my own control, I can and DO control.
Over the Atlantic,
Rocking in my seat, angry, Writing my thoughts, and my posture, READ by other passengers, made the PLANE fill with disAGREEABLe energy.
It was Intense, and I again, last minute, no drugs to RELY on, I got really focused and umm, NICE. I was pleasant, looked to help disturbed folks, and dis engage others too nosy.
I put jackets on old men, had some food service adventures, and made the better of it.
SPIN IT and WIN IT friends. Go Nice, and Do NOT let anything or any one, any REMARK Stop you. Lol
Laugh it off, drugs are QUESTIONABLe. Remedy me this?
You think you have No power, confused?
OPPOSITE
You are powerful, mucho, alotto, so rest in that for a while. The more the Panic, the more the attack, the MORE you ARE.
Wasting dirty tricks, dung dirt cheap, on the weak of heart, is a peasy -easy endeavor, so more is what the MORE get.
Spin it and WIN it.
Someone is awful, CheatS you, lies to you, what will you do?
Real eyes, knows that it’s THEM NOT you.
Trust Should be a MUST in our living Quarters. If you Cannot TRUST them, then TRUST your Self.
Best SELf.
The One Who is AFRAID, but Moves Forward anyway.
Courage is not loss of fear, it’s ACTING on your excellent Spirit in SPITE of the fear and confusion. Working it out, walking it off, laughing as it’s beyond you, you are ABOVE it all…
Food, Sex, vanity, all become WALLS, that a Rabbit Holo Cost survives by Baashing it down. Sledge Hammers, work best.
Survivors, Thrivers in a inhospitable environment. Sheriff Murphy, has law on the Slanted playing field, so It’ not your fault, line starts back in time.
But See the Sheriff, and Watch his Level control, which way the ball rolls, you ROLL with it. Murphy’s law, requires a Steady hand.
As a Friend in Truth spoke about, Viktor Frankl, the famed funny man of WWII concentration camps.
Humor, Crusts of BREAd, Bug soup, you had to BREak Free, and This Counselor the victim HIMself of a hellisher hell, counseled his friends, co mpanions.
Great Teacher, of TRiumPhing The Hideous with the Beauty, the Talent of the Real deal, YOU. Know who you are. And You are GIFTED.
Great Day to you Hats and Rabbits, the hole lot of you. lol
The hole in the Rabbit gang of Wallbangers. Laura Attlast
We have spoken of \all these darn obSTicles, but what about the AL CHEMy, we don’t see?
I look for the tRUTH OF it, then the uncouth of it, then I REAL EYES, what is UP is Down.
There is LITtle in this life, Stuart, so you may EN JOY the ugly, and make it go away.
My friends, animaLS of some Repute, have reaped the REAl REWards card as they are recipients of My playful, loving charisMa, they get Happied up.
Then they Happily put the happy dust on me too.
Good Deal, out of a bad hand, of card sharks.
Take the Bite of a Shark’s tooth.
Last moment, cRUNCh time, Captain, is the time for you to GRAB hold. Let Go, let go, let go, Grab it Rabbit, it’s there in the HOLE as your pole, so dance on it.
In my hospital from hell scenario, NO Pain too large, as I was Enlarged in pain, LAST MOMENT: Thought of the pain of the whole world, children starving in pain hunger, tortured, the used, the raped, the pain of our collective souls.
It was in that moment I gave myself to this pain.
Experienced the Globe of pain. Angels held me that night, I don’t FORGET.
On a plane, a sudden outbreatk of HEAT so hot, that our tiny propeller plane in Vegas Or Phoenix, got suffocating, as I was Sandwiched, the middle seat, the WAVES of hot REACTIONs, then SUDDENLY: I was going to TAKE over the plane and kick in the DOOR.
LOL (Fucking crazy stuff)
LAST minute, Stop, Think OPPOSITE: ICE
It was sNOWING on my mountain of the WORLD, bringing True Relief to my HEAT stroke. Lol
Quickly, the Captain of the Baby plane, turned the AC on. WE all breathed a sigh, and I secreted away into my WINTER WONDERLAND.
Nobody, but you, knew any better what had happened. I DID. I learned, and earned my own control, I can and DO control.
Over the Atlantic,
Rocking in my seat, angry, Writing my thoughts, and my posture, READ by other passengers, made the PLANE fill with disAGREEABLe energy.
It was Intense, and I again, last minute, no drugs to RELY on, I got really focused and umm, NICE. I was pleasant, looked to help disturbed folks, and dis engage others too nosy.
I put jackets on old men, had some food service adventures, and made the better of it.
SPIN IT and WIN IT friends. Go Nice, and Do NOT let anything or any one, any REMARK Stop you. Lol
Laugh it off, drugs are QUESTIONABLe. Remedy me this?
You think you have No power, confused?
OPPOSITE
You are powerful, mucho, alotto, so rest in that for a while. The more the Panic, the more the attack, the MORE you ARE.
Wasting dirty tricks, dung dirt cheap, on the weak of heart, is a peasy -easy endeavor, so more is what the MORE get.
Spin it and WIN it.
Someone is awful, CheatS you, lies to you, what will you do?
Real eyes, knows that it’s THEM NOT you.
Trust Should be a MUST in our living Quarters. If you Cannot TRUST them, then TRUST your Self.
Best SELf.
The One Who is AFRAID, but Moves Forward anyway.
Courage is not loss of fear, it’s ACTING on your excellent Spirit in SPITE of the fear and confusion. Working it out, walking it off, laughing as it’s beyond you, you are ABOVE it all…
Food, Sex, vanity, all become WALLS, that a Rabbit Holo Cost survives by Baashing it down. Sledge Hammers, work best.
Survivors, Thrivers in a inhospitable environment. Sheriff Murphy, has law on the Slanted playing field, so It’ not your fault, line starts back in time.
But See the Sheriff, and Watch his Level control, which way the ball rolls, you ROLL with it. Murphy’s law, requires a Steady hand.
As a Friend in Truth spoke about, Viktor Frankl, the famed funny man of WWII concentration camps.
Humor, Crusts of BREAd, Bug soup, you had to BREak Free, and This Counselor the victim HIMself of a hellisher hell, counseled his friends, co mpanions.
Great Teacher, of TRiumPhing The Hideous with the Beauty, the Talent of the Real deal, YOU. Know who you are. And You are GIFTED.
Great Day to you Hats and Rabbits, the hole lot of you. lol
The hole in the Rabbit gang of Wallbangers. Laura Attlast
Sunday, April 1, 2012
When the student lights up the teacher...
Holy shit!
I came to London to see my friend. But actually I got here and she saw me. Today is the day I know more about myself- my current state- then I have in a very long time... if ever.
My friend is not just anybody, she's extraordinary.
But I want to preface this by saying that I have used this blog to tell the truth. And that truth has not always been a pretty picture. It's often difficult for me to justify doing this publicly, but I'm not going to stray from what has worked to change me.
There are issues that I would rather deal with outside of a public forum, but having done this, it has the effect that I'm no longer harboring problems--keeping these things out of the light.
The student...
My friend, who was only seventeen at the time, came into my life during a period when my whole foundation starting shifting. It was the year my mother died and to survive I had to face those secrets we keep in the darkness.
I've been facing a lot of issues recently--most of it accounted for on this blog. Layer upon layer of self deception as I've covered up what I thought were my weaknesses. Peeling it all off has been much like scraping paint: long and tedious. I can recall when I was 20 years old, thinking I would need maybe 250 years to get the hang of life. None of this came natural to me.
Today, my friend was able to reflect back to me pictures- images- beliefs I have become out of touch with such as--my anger/rage.
We discussed KVHD and the fact is that they may have hurt me, even tortured me of recent, but I can and will not allow it to happen again. But it is over. That's if I want it to be over. It's a choice I have when I acknowledge and accept it.
It's a problem when I bury it away from my own watchful eye. Neither of us could deny there were not real or unimagined hurts that were never allowed to be just what they were-- thus allowing them to heal. The pain stretched out over a long period of time--one thing on top of another.
Differentiating passion and anger...
I am passionately against hurting other people...yet, I'm really good at it myself. The difference would only be that I get angry at "possibly" justifiable events. But I don't just get angry, the whole world falls apart and I come unglued.
While dissecting the matter, my friend made a good point that I generally seem to manage to deal with my own pain rather well, and in a controlled fashion...most of the time. However, my mode of operation has been to help others. This well maybe my own fabrication as I internally try to hold onto the pain, but it manifests as a need to fucking fight even harder, more furiously, for people who "seem" to be victims.
Why did Batman fight?
You got a past, you got a past. What can you do? Accept it and own it, was the wisdom of the day.
My friend said there's no denying that she respects what I try to accomplish, but I often come out of these fights bloodied and bruised. The latter maybe all that needs changing.
I've acted in a confrontational way most of my life. Though I prefer to get along with other people, it seems that I will be blunt if the situation deems it necessary. A blunt instrument that is...
And most likely I will fight for other people as most won't fight for themselves. I can hardly stand it. It's like a crooked picture which needs to be straightened. Lord help those I've focused my laser on as there will be only ashes when the smoke clears. Again, that has been a choice whether I admit it or not.
But what if it's for a reason...
I'm bent but definitely not broken. What if life needs a character that has a lifetime of experience fighting?
Well, if it doesn't it would not have created me...wouldn't you think?
I'm here, this is what I am and what I do.
Then maybe I choose to change...
One way or another I will make many decisions and possibly implement new changes in my life. More awareness is in order. Also translating that awareness into daily life requires diligence and dealing with all the details.
Wow, what a complicated task it seems sometimes when we don't exactly know what motivates us to do the things we do.
Is it just low self esteem? LOL
What does that mean anyway. We as a creature, a human, I've observed tend to use words as if they are somehow known as concrete - the same definition for everyone. When I look at something and define it on this blog, I'm sure others will have their own interpretation of what I"ve written.
Hell, some people who have grammatical OCD can't stand to read me. My sentence structure is so weak and they just want to fix it.
I can relate to that feeling when it comes to my rules on justice. I think the sentence is weak and I just want to fix it.
My friend was able to do what not too many, if any, others have really done which is sharpen her knife and begin digging the bullets out.
There was no denying anything today- really that's the way it needs to be. I came here for a reason to be with someone who is not afraid to provide "passionate" feedback. We care about each other in a platonic, familial way, and with her Spanish temper, it works out. Oh, and her OCD about a lot organizational issues. She just wishes I was more strategic and less "rush the castle."
But being a bad ass does require some dramatic flair. lol
She's much more conservative as she seeks to AVOID conflict with her schedule. Admittedly, there's some extremes in both of us, which makes us perfect to reflect a surface we can see ourselves in--a mirror.
It's a perspective that we need to get in to see certain things. If I want to see truth I must look at a multitude of factors to even know the truth...of really anything. Sometimes I am in judgment I cannot see specific truths because of it. Once I let go of the judgment, employing acceptance, not trying or thinking of changing anything, there is more truth.
What truth do I act on, can be a real tough question. I've overreacted- but then I've also underreacted many times too. It's not either: it appears to be that moment of "just right" when I make a move that works for me. A car moves out of the way exactly when I need it to so that I may continue to speed along. Or I throw a piece of paper towards the trash and it ricochets off the wall and lands in the trashcan anyway.
It was just right.
I'll absorb and take in all that was said today. It's already processing, I can feel it in my reaction to certain issues.
I guarantee I will not be the only one changed by talking about these life items we take for granted and sleep walk thru. (The word through has three silent letters...and I think we can dump them. I'm much too busy to spell that out. I feel okay taking liberties with language. As always...I digress)
My friend heard some things today that I told her I really did not want to lie about to myself anymore. My rage being part of it. From this point on I will have more control of it simply by acknowledging it. I may have to do this repeatedly, but each time, I get a new truth.
After my lights came on this afternoon, I could feel pain in various parts of my body. My hands were shaky, I was uncertain. All good signs indicating the conflicts have risen to the surface.
Before I began this post, I packed away the story I wrote when I had some memory flashbacks and became angry two days ago. I'll re-post it--I can't run away from my feelings.
Unedited- Live- that's the effect I attempt to project on this blog. Not a huge stretch, but the raw material is good for introspective analysis--that's why I prefer to make myself write it out as it comes along.
"I'm learning to fly" ...Tom Petty. Youtube it--listen to the live version--when the audience sings along they all have a perspective on this song, an energy...try to feel it.
Have a great night...turn off the tube and get some truth and passion. Let it happen. Laura Hart (the bi-polar explorer)
I came to London to see my friend. But actually I got here and she saw me. Today is the day I know more about myself- my current state- then I have in a very long time... if ever.
My friend is not just anybody, she's extraordinary.
But I want to preface this by saying that I have used this blog to tell the truth. And that truth has not always been a pretty picture. It's often difficult for me to justify doing this publicly, but I'm not going to stray from what has worked to change me.
There are issues that I would rather deal with outside of a public forum, but having done this, it has the effect that I'm no longer harboring problems--keeping these things out of the light.
The student...
My friend, who was only seventeen at the time, came into my life during a period when my whole foundation starting shifting. It was the year my mother died and to survive I had to face those secrets we keep in the darkness.
I've been facing a lot of issues recently--most of it accounted for on this blog. Layer upon layer of self deception as I've covered up what I thought were my weaknesses. Peeling it all off has been much like scraping paint: long and tedious. I can recall when I was 20 years old, thinking I would need maybe 250 years to get the hang of life. None of this came natural to me.
Today, my friend was able to reflect back to me pictures- images- beliefs I have become out of touch with such as--my anger/rage.
We discussed KVHD and the fact is that they may have hurt me, even tortured me of recent, but I can and will not allow it to happen again. But it is over. That's if I want it to be over. It's a choice I have when I acknowledge and accept it.
It's a problem when I bury it away from my own watchful eye. Neither of us could deny there were not real or unimagined hurts that were never allowed to be just what they were-- thus allowing them to heal. The pain stretched out over a long period of time--one thing on top of another.
Differentiating passion and anger...
I am passionately against hurting other people...yet, I'm really good at it myself. The difference would only be that I get angry at "possibly" justifiable events. But I don't just get angry, the whole world falls apart and I come unglued.
While dissecting the matter, my friend made a good point that I generally seem to manage to deal with my own pain rather well, and in a controlled fashion...most of the time. However, my mode of operation has been to help others. This well maybe my own fabrication as I internally try to hold onto the pain, but it manifests as a need to fucking fight even harder, more furiously, for people who "seem" to be victims.
Why did Batman fight?
You got a past, you got a past. What can you do? Accept it and own it, was the wisdom of the day.
My friend said there's no denying that she respects what I try to accomplish, but I often come out of these fights bloodied and bruised. The latter maybe all that needs changing.
I've acted in a confrontational way most of my life. Though I prefer to get along with other people, it seems that I will be blunt if the situation deems it necessary. A blunt instrument that is...
And most likely I will fight for other people as most won't fight for themselves. I can hardly stand it. It's like a crooked picture which needs to be straightened. Lord help those I've focused my laser on as there will be only ashes when the smoke clears. Again, that has been a choice whether I admit it or not.
But what if it's for a reason...
I'm bent but definitely not broken. What if life needs a character that has a lifetime of experience fighting?
Well, if it doesn't it would not have created me...wouldn't you think?
I'm here, this is what I am and what I do.
Then maybe I choose to change...
One way or another I will make many decisions and possibly implement new changes in my life. More awareness is in order. Also translating that awareness into daily life requires diligence and dealing with all the details.
Wow, what a complicated task it seems sometimes when we don't exactly know what motivates us to do the things we do.
Is it just low self esteem? LOL
What does that mean anyway. We as a creature, a human, I've observed tend to use words as if they are somehow known as concrete - the same definition for everyone. When I look at something and define it on this blog, I'm sure others will have their own interpretation of what I"ve written.
Hell, some people who have grammatical OCD can't stand to read me. My sentence structure is so weak and they just want to fix it.
I can relate to that feeling when it comes to my rules on justice. I think the sentence is weak and I just want to fix it.
My friend was able to do what not too many, if any, others have really done which is sharpen her knife and begin digging the bullets out.
There was no denying anything today- really that's the way it needs to be. I came here for a reason to be with someone who is not afraid to provide "passionate" feedback. We care about each other in a platonic, familial way, and with her Spanish temper, it works out. Oh, and her OCD about a lot organizational issues. She just wishes I was more strategic and less "rush the castle."
But being a bad ass does require some dramatic flair. lol
She's much more conservative as she seeks to AVOID conflict with her schedule. Admittedly, there's some extremes in both of us, which makes us perfect to reflect a surface we can see ourselves in--a mirror.
It's a perspective that we need to get in to see certain things. If I want to see truth I must look at a multitude of factors to even know the truth...of really anything. Sometimes I am in judgment I cannot see specific truths because of it. Once I let go of the judgment, employing acceptance, not trying or thinking of changing anything, there is more truth.
What truth do I act on, can be a real tough question. I've overreacted- but then I've also underreacted many times too. It's not either: it appears to be that moment of "just right" when I make a move that works for me. A car moves out of the way exactly when I need it to so that I may continue to speed along. Or I throw a piece of paper towards the trash and it ricochets off the wall and lands in the trashcan anyway.
It was just right.
I'll absorb and take in all that was said today. It's already processing, I can feel it in my reaction to certain issues.
I guarantee I will not be the only one changed by talking about these life items we take for granted and sleep walk thru. (The word through has three silent letters...and I think we can dump them. I'm much too busy to spell that out. I feel okay taking liberties with language. As always...I digress)
My friend heard some things today that I told her I really did not want to lie about to myself anymore. My rage being part of it. From this point on I will have more control of it simply by acknowledging it. I may have to do this repeatedly, but each time, I get a new truth.
After my lights came on this afternoon, I could feel pain in various parts of my body. My hands were shaky, I was uncertain. All good signs indicating the conflicts have risen to the surface.
Before I began this post, I packed away the story I wrote when I had some memory flashbacks and became angry two days ago. I'll re-post it--I can't run away from my feelings.
Unedited- Live- that's the effect I attempt to project on this blog. Not a huge stretch, but the raw material is good for introspective analysis--that's why I prefer to make myself write it out as it comes along.
"I'm learning to fly" ...Tom Petty. Youtube it--listen to the live version--when the audience sings along they all have a perspective on this song, an energy...try to feel it.
Have a great night...turn off the tube and get some truth and passion. Let it happen. Laura Hart (the bi-polar explorer)
Monday, July 6, 2009
Welcome to the new blog, it's going to be interesting, especially for those in health care
Hello, I'm Laura Hart, I'm bi-polar, with some concommitant OCD, and I've lived my life with the condition but in the last several years it has been a true learning experience.
Sometimes one's destiny is a license plate they pick up at the DMV. After a bad round of antibiotics which took out a cranial nerve, I was severely disabled, unable to walk or see.
My doctor wrote up a note to the DMV that I was permanently disabled, and some license plates were ordered for my car.
I opened them up and looked, kind of pissed really, that the numbers across were 5150.
A 5150 is a legal hold when someone is a danger to themselves or to others. I knew this because my mother, brother and sister, cousins, aunts, oh hell, the whole family had some form of it. And some of them were on a hold, or couldn't be held, or were mislabled and put in jail.
So, when I saw this I knew what it was and was planning on asking them to take them back and give me some other configuration.
I never did.
This blog is partly expression and communication but it is also an educational tool.
I have many stories to share, but I have other voices I want you to hear too.
And we, "The Order of the Bi-Polar Disorder," have plans on bringing to the healthcare providers and the government a whole new perspective on this type of condition.
There will be many types of writers, some may use offensive language, others may be eloquent. But we want the real stories, raw, from the soul, from the great life salvaging sarcastic sense of humor, to fill this blog.
Many are artists, musicians, the creative types so be prepared for quite a motley mixture to appear.
There will be video, pictures, artwork, to go with it.
So, here we go...
Sometimes one's destiny is a license plate they pick up at the DMV. After a bad round of antibiotics which took out a cranial nerve, I was severely disabled, unable to walk or see.
My doctor wrote up a note to the DMV that I was permanently disabled, and some license plates were ordered for my car.
I opened them up and looked, kind of pissed really, that the numbers across were 5150.
A 5150 is a legal hold when someone is a danger to themselves or to others. I knew this because my mother, brother and sister, cousins, aunts, oh hell, the whole family had some form of it. And some of them were on a hold, or couldn't be held, or were mislabled and put in jail.
So, when I saw this I knew what it was and was planning on asking them to take them back and give me some other configuration.
I never did.
This blog is partly expression and communication but it is also an educational tool.
I have many stories to share, but I have other voices I want you to hear too.
And we, "The Order of the Bi-Polar Disorder," have plans on bringing to the healthcare providers and the government a whole new perspective on this type of condition.
There will be many types of writers, some may use offensive language, others may be eloquent. But we want the real stories, raw, from the soul, from the great life salvaging sarcastic sense of humor, to fill this blog.
Many are artists, musicians, the creative types so be prepared for quite a motley mixture to appear.
There will be video, pictures, artwork, to go with it.
So, here we go...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)