Ouch it hurts...

Dream the impossible dream

I suppose I will begin the latest post with, "why in the hell am I trying to fix me when I can't be fixed," or at least it seems that way.

For a moment I was happy, then I recognize how demented I am, now I'm completely freaked out.

Went to my therapist

Triggering me these days requires almost nothing except the WILLINGNESS to be triggered which apparently I have. If I don't get these feelings out there is almost no hope I will be integrated and enjoy a good life. The feelings surface whether or not I want them to. So, let them.

It's ugly and I'm confused, tired, (oh right HALT you dumb ass bi-polar before you attack something other than yourself) and don't know what to do with it all. I woke up again, dammit, and again I remember...they would not leave me alone.

Year after year, day after day, I kept up the ruse that we were all right. I turned 35 and that was the finale except it was not: I was damaged. And it was not something a band aid and juice would fix. Rather it's substantial and I'm finally doing my part because the results have scared me too!

This is me or not me, umm, who am I?

I feebly figured out I'm not my anger, but I'm also not the baby, or the others either. (This is getting spooky and weird) Maybe there is some division among me or I'm simply a damaged product you send off to be sold for a 1/3 of the price.

If I could tell you I would, but it appears I'm clean of all drugs and alcohol, but not clean of mind. My mind spins thinking of why all of this is happening. When I awake from sleep there is pain and memories to be stuffed back down...or they would be if I didn't bring them to surface for rethinking.

Stop, think and do something different constitutes a whole day for me. I am upset about what happened with me, the local ER, and possibly other parts I don't clearly remember. Maybe I'm wrong, but should I have been in jail or somewhere that would help me deal with my regular death ritual?

That's in the past

I do want to make the past the past, but how can I if I can't remember it? Or if I remember and it's painful? Starting today I will hope that I can make it through these events one after another until the issues become clear.

Writing will likely help but when the bi-polar reporter steps up to the plate we ALL need to run. I have only so much control over my character so I want her on a flat, one dimensional page, so she won't hurt any of us. She has a blood lust for truth and fairness.

Those are nice things I agree, but they are also completely unreasonable and no human being will EVER live up to it. Please God, tell me now that I was not ripped off last week as they will know her wrath. She will make them better by being the catalyst or bringer of rain upon their lousy business practices. I hope they are ready, I'm not.

I may have some control, but I fear there will be cussing and disturbance before it's over. I want peace and that is also unreasonable. If only I could put me back together like Humpty Dumpty, I cracked a very long time ago.

Each day is a choice

Here and now is what I face, and I will rise to the occasion. But who am I in all this? It's scary to note  that there are things that I cannot change and no wisdom to go with it. Maybe I'll just pray for a break and hope that it will come. That is all the power I seem to have over this split in myself.

The reporter is another one of us, the worst, not the worst, that's the depression. Both are equally disabling and then there's me...who am I?

Some of you may find this sudden schism scary...so do I.

Another night and I wonder if I can even go out. There is an AA meeting I would like to attend, but is it too much for one day? Probably...............

Talk later...Laura Hart (or whomever I am)

I remember and you had better too!

Dead again: How many times is this now?

It's not as if I haven't been dead before, but I had the dream last night, after two weeks home...And I know that others know this too: I died and came right back...again.


Now, if you don't remember then hear me out.

I had taken morphine and drank some beer and likely added other drugs too. But according to the ER report, I was a handful of venom, thrashing and attacking. But also, clearly, a suicide as I directly asked to be shot by police, LOL. Remember I spoke about the fact that I had been hit with Narcan early in the year without any warning and I was scared....

Many of you don't think I'm scared or get scared, but just am a hard ass who has some serious "psych" problems. Well, I do get scared as I apparently ran to a church across from the hospital ER and sat crying while freaking out the Pastor and church members. This information came from my friend who came to pick me up.

I didn't get picked up, but I was sent down the mountain with a Sheriff watching me: to jail. If you read the guest post from my friend who gave me the head's up about what lead to this recent attempt, she makes a point of why was I sent to jail. And why there were no medical records sent with me. ???


They didn't have all the information, only their own prejudice

I've said it before, I say it again, the medical field is full of prejudice and they don't like complicated people. They did a drug screen, which I have not seen, so I cannot comment, but there must have been some really good stuff swarming through my veins that day.

I remember taking most of it. Black outs come with heavy drugs and alcohol, so it's no surprise I don't remember it "word for word" or maybe "drug by drug."

Death has it's own feeling: and I felt it. I have experience trying to be dead along with being dead on the tub four years prior. It's not the big deal we all make it to be, my assessment is that it would be boring, and that is why I keep coming back for MORE.

I kicked and kicked and they all fell down

I put on a show as I must have been a mess from hell, pissing, shitting, throwing up, but getting off ALL that doctor dope. Being the crazy bi-polar, it had to be all at one time. How very dramatic of me.

But give me a break guys, I was scared of you. You had previously breached my trust by hurting me with the Narcan. If people don't know, Narcan is given in situations where a patient is about to die from an opiate overdose. I was not dying that day, I simply had palpitations and wanted to confirm my heart was okay.

Instead, I got a blast of this opiate antagonizer and I screamed like a baby! I was chock full of opiates at the time and all I could do was scream. Well, the scream was more like the word "FUCK" going on for an hour, I don't know. The nurse who gave this swell drug to me never alerted me and I was sent on a long trip from hell.

It was my wake up call though

You can never say that things don't happen for a reason. It was terrible in the sense that I was hurt to a degree that even my family would not talk to me. I could not clearly understand why when I was wide awake I was given this drug. And we know from both these experiences, that KVHD does not want to take their own responsibility.


Don't do this to another person or I will be angry

I'm a different type of person as you all have figured out. I have fight and grit. There are others who are simply suicidal and they would cave under the pressure. I ask KVHD staff right now to rethink what they did to me, realize the prejudice, and make sure it doesn't happen to someone else, less willing to come back from the dead.

I'm here and alive!!!

The best part of this story is how it ends, or begins, as it's a new day. I'll be working on the story of the Kern River Valley, it's healthcare, it's politics, called "The Valley of Fear." A sneak preview of the book is on this site under the label: the bi-polar reporter. Read it and know that you who were a part of any of these exciting adventures will be contained in the pages.

I've got things to do, dogs to walk, a cat to harass, and a bird to wake up. But you too have something to learn even from a "crazy person" which is what the paramedics and police initially thought.

Now they think, the bitch has a few brain cells left, and she did kick all her drugs...hmm, maybe this is something to think about.

You bet!

Don't do what I do which is either dismiss me or take it too seriously, but we all played our role in this adventure. And here's the rub: I like you and I also like me. So, I won't take sides. LOL

Have a great day and thanks again for letting me die so that I may LIVE and LOVE and LAUGH and spit on you (oh my there's the vinegar, use it on your salad...fuck you!). I'm going to make things better and in some cases worse, but it's an adventure I never want to miss!

Take care and prosper...be back later with more...Laura Hart

What a day...oh gosh it's only 10:30 am

I've got a full plate

This has been one hell of a morning with the excitement of a scary movie and the hope of a new day. I have some serious issues and that is now apparent to me. What in the hell happened? Honestly if I never know it would fine, except to say that I do know, and it's not fine. Things are different now and I plan on things being very much changed.

I'm not angry but I woke up crying like a baby. The next step: Depression. I will not indulge that either as I really only have today. I could use drugs but then as they say in NA one would  be too much and a thousand not enough.

I'll continue to go with the plan that if I work each day, clean of drugs that keep me from my own pain, (I guess we all have our own pain) then I will eventually work through it all. I can't again stop the past from entering my mind. I can enjoy the day.

And I've learned that planning is not all it's cracked up to be. I try to plan but then there are things that just come up.

One more thing I have said all morning long which I corrected a friend about: "I don't know." I will find out what is below the surface of this excuse which keeps me from moving forward. Again for some unknown reason I like the truth.

Damn it hurts though. I'll be fine. Let's all be fine and good to each other today. (Yeah right, nice thought though)

But one thing I can do is to quit hurting myself. It's a cycle and I need to break it. I know I fucked up nobody needs to tell me as I put myself up on the cross already. Now I need to remove the nails from my hands and proceed to the kitchen...because I like food! (And candy too...fuck you)

Well this is the site I can cuss on, so sorry for the fuck you, but again, fuck you just because I can say it and feels good. Now don't take it personally as I'm talking to myself only and I don't mean it.

My real message is this: I'm going to make it and have a good day. My dog, bird and cat are awesome, I love them all. And in turn I will learn to like myself. I never have taken to compliments from other people, so don't be surprised when I pretend not to hear it. I maybe just okay, which is better than hurting myself.

I WANT TO LIVE but LIVE WELL. I've done nothing but hurt me over and over. I think I may owe myself an apology...I'm sorry. That is weird, but then I never said I wasn't weird.

Please have a good day. I think we may just be worth it. I think...LOL

The past needs to be the past

What a morning, full of memories I really would rather leave behind. I've been crying but that isn't pleasant either. I fucked up a whole lifetime I realize and now I have today.

It's such a little word, today, but it's so powerful I can even feel it. And I have attempted to not feel anything. So, with that said, I would like to leave the past behind and create my future...today.

They were not good and then I was not either

I was discussing the sad fact that I did not have children, had abortions instead, because I was afraid I would be abusive. I did not get this way without being abused myself so I was probably right. Considering how abusive I have been with other people, allowing my anger to run amok, I can imagine it would have been the same for my potential children.

You have no idea how sorry I am for all of it. If there was some magical way to make a clean start I would require that the world do it, but I know there isn't. I can only start now.

I can blame them all, but mostly I blame myself. What good has it done? Nothing apparently. After almost 50 years of life I still tried to kill myself. One attempt after another, year after year, hating me more and more. I felt like a failure who couldn't even kill herself properly.

But what if I'm not as bad as I think I am? That would require that I have faith and live. What a tall order. It's been a fucked up life, with me allowing the anger to run everything, and when that doesn't work, falling into deep, dark depression. Then wrapping it up with a dramatic attempt to kill or severely wound myself.

They were abusers and I was a victim, which I HATE to admit. But then I became an abuser as it seemed a better situation. Good God, it is terrible to even conceive of such a stupid notion. I had to be a child when I thought that one through. I'm not a child anymore, but I do have a child like personality. And it's hurt, bad. And the anger wants it's day.

But they're dead and I am slightly dead from it all. I can't take revenge and never could. Why in the world would it be okay to hurt a child like they hurt me, I don't know. Maybe they didn't know. Whatever the reason I can't begin to unravel what happened and still am so embarrassed about all of it.

One minute of sleep and it all came pouring out last night. No wonder I don't want to sleep. I woke up with a choice to be angry, cry, or move on with today. I CHOOSE TO MOVE ON and LIVE. It's the hardest choice, the unfamiliar one, the one that I haven't up to this point actually chosen. But I do. I want the truth and this is it.

If I could take back the last 50 years would I? YES! Fuck YES! But now I have to wrap it up in a day. Wow, that's something. They who did this will face their own shit and I cannot do anything to make that happen or make it worse for them, which is the anger again.

I was physically and sexually breached, repeatedly, and now I am not...so why do I persist in repeating it all? That is a question for myself. But again now I have a choice, when I was child I did not. My childhood is over, THANK GOD.

But my life is here and I have to greet it and like myself. I can't say I like myself yet, but maybe for today, I can at least accept myself. I'm a fucking flawed human, and I want to live life in joy and spontaneity. I hope that we all have a good day and do the best we can with it.

I'm again so sorry for all that has come from this, but I have to, for me to survive, put this behind me. And for me to move on, I need to pay attention to the moment. God grant me the wisdom to do all this. And you too!

Take care and have a great day...Laura

What a beautiful morning...please open the door

The news didn't surprise me

First thing this morning I was told that my "former" arch nemesis the Kern Valley Health care District is on the brink of facing severe cuts from the state. There is little to do to push this crisis center over the edge and this would likely be the death blow.

Not that I want it to close, but I want to point out it's NOT my problem. I have done and alerted everything and everybody, but it was ignored. Five years of this and now I'm really not the driven to help. Now if someone asks for my help, I'll likely be there, but nobody has and I'm free to do what I want.

I had stopped the insanity and wrote a goodbye post, but I did have to tell people who are now waking up to what they could be losing, such as their jobs and homes even, what to do about it. Take action you who have to live without a hospital. I can't and frankly won't do it for you. I have too much to live for and time to enjoy my friends who are left with me after all the drama, and my devoted animals who have seen the worst.

We walked into the sun

It was blinding as we headed up the trail this morning, my silly dog pulling and spinning on his leash. I was with two veteran walkers of the neighborhood and they had two dogs who were the focus of my Boxer, Walter.

Now let me say that Walter has an excuse: an absentee mother. I used to hike and climb but I forgot who I was. I had become a smoker and I had forgotten how wonderful it is to be out and about. It was great to see the sun in my face, though it hurt my sleepless eyes, I will want to do this again.

I have to build muscle that I let go over the years and that will take time. But I still can enjoy the morning with a brisk walk with my untrained dog who will eventually get the message. He's an awesome dog, you should see him walk or trot like a horse. He's beautiful and I am taking advantage of my time to do things I sure as shit could've done before.

Clean and mean

All right I'm kidding, but I'm still squeaky clean and feeling the pain of daily living. I'm more honest about this now as I had hidden my drug addiction from everyone including myself. Now I desire truth and honesty with myself and the willingness to accept myself.

I really thought last night before my NA (narcotics anonymous) meeting that I was the worst person on the planet. I'm not.

The second worse. Not really. I just have to come to terms with all the "hurt" not so much anger, but what is fueling the anger. I've been a real baby when it has to do with telling others how I really feel. Lately though I cannot stop telling the truth. I guess I would rather have something in the middle but I accept myself today.

If I have hurt anyone by telling them what I think I'll apologize and try to do better. I get the feeling that others are not so committed to the truth and I have to have more compassion rather than judging them. I cannot live without knowing who I really am. However, other people want to sleep walk thru life. I did it with pain killers for two years.

I had been in a state of "love" which is not my natural state. I was hurt in that relationship and I hurt back. It sucks because I am not going to say I don't still have feelings, but I'm going to say that I have more feelings for myself now. When I try to make things right I only try: now I WILL make things right.

I can't change a whole society who would allow the killing of people in a local skilled nursing facility and then BLAME THE MESSENGER. I was the messenger and blamed for many things I had nothing to do with. All that energy expended could well have served me, but I can't change the past I simply need to accept it. I fucked up...Gosh I do it all the time. Should I be punished again and again? Well, that's up to me as I'm my worst critic. I hate me. Or I should say I "hated" me up until this morning.

What is there to like?

Well, other than being a mongrel, I'm kind, funny, funny looking, a serious asshole sometimes, but basically okay and part of the human race. Others often compete with me, which I don't understand exactly. They think I'm SMART. Yes, a smart ass, but smart would not be me. I'm intuitive but less to take every book at it's word. Those books have only made me separate from the rest and I need to be a part instead of standing alone.

It's been a long life of making stands where I'm the only one there. As I've pointed out about KVHD, the people I worked with to gain understanding of the problems didn't acknowledge me. My own relationship turned out to make me invisible as well.

No go anymore. If you know me, then fucking say you know me or piss off. Nothing angry or personal, I'm simply tired of it and would rather walk my dog then talk to people who will deny me. Yes, I'm a bit crazy too. So what, do you think there is one single person on this entire planet, or even off this planet, who is a perfect specimen?

In fact, we all need to crash and burn so we can see the light...I love the light.

Even as my door knob became problematic this morning straight after the religious experience which was my walk, I could not help appreciate how funny and awesome everything is: I am so grateful for this time! Thank you Scooter (God) for all of this...

Take care and have a great day doing whatever it is you love to do. Life is short: get some balls people. Be a true bi-polar American!

Just for Today!

I'm happy to report some sleep

I have awoken from another night, but this time with some sleep under my belt. I'm more relaxed and more understanding of what I want to be from now on.

Less angry for one, and more appreciative of each "day" I'm given to recover from not only drugs, but also the thoughts of being dead. Yes, I tried not just recently, but for my whole life to kill myself. I had taken an overdose, tried to hang myself, and in the end, I really don't want it to end.

It's kind of funny really to find that I am ready now to take the helm and live. I am confused to some degree as to how I do this, but somehow I think it will come to me. I have more faith this morning, and more understanding of how I have been the one to make a mockery of living.

Anger again is hurt and I have been hurt, but sadly I turned into a person who hurts others. Wow! I do not care to hear it, but I am totally aware of it now. It's not who I wanted to be, then again, I kept trying to kill me. I needed a reason such as "I'm terrible" and worth killing.

Truth be told, I'm really all right and not a candidate for killing. I'm just a child who didn't get much light and a lot of abuse to go with it. I must have confused this abuse with my own self worth and now what a tangle it is. But each day I wake up I'm going to be more and more confident that it is OK to be me. Whether I'm a lump one day and an action packed adventure the next, I will still be my own BEST FRIEND. I have to be as I am the only one who can put this into motion.

I can't wait to see what a day brings as I used to think, "oh no, what will the day do," and then expect it will never get better. I CAN and WILL make it better.

Things I would like to do today: Laugh, smile, and take a long hot shower. Oooh, just the shower itself makes me want to live. LOL

More to follow: The end of KVHD under Fire, Thank God

HALT: Hungry, angry, lonely, and tired

Beware of bi-polars in this condition

I was just explaining to my sister that I had a morning trying to get food and I ended up having to deal with my anger all of a sudden. She simply said "halt" and I said "what," and it turns out to be something to learn...once again. 


The acronym basically says it all, stop before you explode and make sure to be fed. Yum, I love food right now in a way that's undeniable, but not having it made me angry.

You won't like me when I'm mad


People in general don't like to hear about how much they suck, and that is what I can do, make people feel bad. I don't like it, and don't purposefully go about doing this, but I have the responsibility when I go off so I must prepare myself.

Now HALT is what I could have done and then regrouped, but I had to learn again about anger issues which suddenly took me back in time. We have a local clinic which I have railed against for years, and the focus of attention in one of my books: what a shit hole.

Okay, I had not been there for years, but I was attending an NA meeting today. Sadly, I was in rough shape, and cried thru the 5 minute long meeting lead by former TWEEKERS. I never liked the drug nor did I choose to do that one. Oh yeah, I did all others including heroin, but somehow this was below me.

Good God.

They were trying to get their kids back and had an early bus, so I was especially enraged just for the occasion. After they left, I headed for the car and hit the steering wheel while contemplating screeching my tires down the whole street leaving track marks so black nobody would ever not feed a bi-polar again.

I walked into the receptionist with my "Sprite" bottle held high, as it was not allowed, and told her what a dump she worked at. Yes, I did.

Then I went back to the car, cried, took a time out, and reentered the building without a soda, and spoke to a nurse. She was nice and easy to speak with. I had my hand over my mouth as the only thing coming out was a stream of cuss words and a lot of judgment.

She told me that I do indeed need to sleep and was nice enough to NOT recommend their lack of services. I am not impressed with them, but I can't not like individuals who are compassionate and take in an angry bi-polar they don't even know. How brave.

In this small conversation she said things which have stuck with me all the way home, like the fact that anger is usually about being hurt. I told her something I had not told anyone in my life and like a priest she received the information without a bunch of crap. She didn't judge me as I was judging her and the rest of the world at that point.

My sister and her wisdom

I called on my sister early on this evening as I am making GOOD FOOD for me and it smells awesome, and she told me to HALT and now we know what that means.

God help us all that a bi-polar is reduced to ashes with only missing food, or at least good food, and then to be able to stop the behavior is the best part of the story. I'm not angry anymore, but I am interested in why it got so out of hand.

When I do have these conditions listed in the title, I need to be aware and stop the behavior. Okay, it was close and a few people had been called "fuckheads" and "assholes" but less than usual...

I'm living and learning the sober way, meaning I am facing the truth, and it's a bit uncomfortable. But I got my absorbent underwear and my sheet cover and hopefully will be tamer tomorrow after some sleep.


Need to eat. Have a good night.

Potty training the bi-polar and more household tips

Oh, I do know what the sleep problem is...Oh, piss on it.

Considering that I have been staying up all night and writing and fighting like a crazy person, it should be no surprise that I cannot sleep. But what is most surprising is why.

I'm afraid I will lose control and piss or shit the bed. Yeah, it isn't nice or a pretty reason such as simple insomnia, or something cool like narcolepsy, it's a fear of relaxing to a point of losing control.

What control is there left to lose?

First, I have kicked opiates, benzodiazapines, and cigaretters, throw on my concern about marijuana and you have a  fucking squeaky clean bi-polar here. But during the process of letting go of these drugs I seemed to have lost control of my digestive system.

I had been sleeping in an opium haze and somehow managed to avoid this pitfall but now I'm faced with the fact I need some "Depends" or a plastic sheet. Oh, yeah, it's humility, being humble before God and others that makes me write this publicly. I would never had admitted this as I was before.

Hell, I would not admit I was an addict either. I had all the excuses and all the right ailments to make sure my drugs were prescribed. This is the most dangerous of all the addictions: Faking an ailment to get drugs. I was initially not faking anything, but them I got hooked.


NA and AA can and will help: if you want help that is

I do want help, in fact, I made two meetings so far, not that I haven't had some problems getting there and finding a way to fit it all into that one day we all have that precious one single day. I like being sober, I must admit, but it's not just that, I like the truth.

I'm peeling the layers as a good friend verified to me last night, but it's also that I want this, a true awakening. Wow, it's been real  let me tell you. Sitting with other addicts and continuing to remind myself as much as I want to be "special" I'm just another addict trying to stay clean of drugs and addictive behaviors for another day.

What a tall order that I try to follow, and the bi-polar in me wants it in huge chunks, so it's rather agonizing to go thru this. But I cannot manage to pretend that I didn't almost fall asleep in the car, twice. I am sleep deprived to the point my eyes hurt and the body needs it's rest.

Until, I get that rest I will spin. So, I hope for today: a plastic sheet and some really absorbent underwear. You don't think this is humbling? It sure Fucking is. I'm humbly asking God right now for just that.

I'll be back and sober and hopefully tomorrow, with some sleep in sight. Good night, sweet dreams, may you not pee your own bed...as things get scary down the rabbit hole.

Upcoming: the two trash cans I need for my fucking mess and a new job too...Oh GOD!

Good morning from Laura Hart

It's a rough morning, but I have the faith that it will also be a rough afternoon...Trying to be funny, but I do want to make things work so I will endure.

I also want to make money and that is on my mind as I have been considering the prospect of going back to work, be it writing my books I so enjoyed, or making it in a job situation.
Yes, it's a good idea to have somewhere to go and making commitments, which really makes me sick to my stomach, but knowing that I have a job would be nice.

I must be trustworthy to do this, so I must make all the progress I can before I just simply dive in. Good thing the people around me are more serious than I have been.

Long nights and longer days have lead to my new perspective on things. I'll make sure that I am in good shape and ready to go for this new adventure. I want to sleep at night, but it appears that I have been holding back the sleep myself.
I can't believe I'm saying it, but I appear to be afraid to sleep. I can catch an hour here and there, but when I do finally get to sleep I hallucinate or something odd like that. Now I can and will find out what is going on, just hang with me, I have to follow thru...the toughest part.

More to follow: the hunt for a job and to write the books and screenplay

Following the trail: back up the rabbit hole...

hello, I'm Laura and I'm a drug addict, alcoholic, sex addict, food freak, etc if you will...

I have to get used to the "outside" again, as I was incarcerated recently, not for long, as I'm not one to settle in anywhere. But new information about what happened on November 11, 2011, the day my bi-polar became seriously out of control, has come to the surface as I have to retrace my missteps from this past month.
I'm clean of it all, the drugs are gone...but then so was I.
Can you imagine watching someone kick opiates and benzo's all at once?
God it must have been terrible for those around me, and I must apologize, because that is what bi-polar American's do when they fuck up royally.
I want to not only make amends, as I could have escaped this pain by simply reducing medications over the course of some months and then gone on my way, I want to be better because of it.

BUT NO...
Being bi-polar means knowing what you are and what you are not. I'm not sane all the time, and I'm not able to handle the drugs I was taking. It was awful for All of us, not just me.
Oh my it hurt to writhe in agony, but I will never forget, and that is something that may save us all from another bad trip. I'm the one in charge, so whatever goes wrong is my responsibility.

I love the truth
As I've spent the last week at home working on the house of pain, the house of dirt, and disaster, I can see clearly that I was not in a state of mind that was conducive to living a clean and easy life. I like things the hard way.
If it can't be done, then I would do it. I would put all my personal issues aside to take on anything, even a dare. That is nothing new, it's been a whole life of putting my own needs on hold while I whip up a tornado and go out and do damage.
Now, I'm more interested in doing things that I know have at the least a seed of truth. I love the truth, and I'm irritated by people who bullshit. Oh yeah, and I'm a great bullshitter if I may say so myself. But the difference is only that I want and need to hear about my issues so I can change them. However, don't bull shit a bullshitter as I will know.

I'm working hard to come back and be all that I can be, and that includes dealing with my issues and they are numerous. You have no idea the kind of anger I have been carrying around...

Well, some out there got a taste of the personality we call the "bi-polar reporter" the one who makes sure that there are no people who are hurt or taken advantage of. How realistic is that? Not at all, therefore, this alter ego has spent years hounding others and threatening their very existence.


What can I do with all my anger?
I decided I had to come to terms with this or go over the edge and now it's a daily thing, making a bed, raking leaves, cooking stew, and having FAITH.
Thank you God or Scooter as I call it, the universe, for the breakdown, which was necessary for true change to occur. I want the truth, and I will find it, and be okay with it, as I was drunk, on opiates, freaking out, and now I'm into the moment, the only thing that counts.
I can no longer stuff this down. I kind of wish I could as the constant need for truth telling is getting on the nerves of others around me who would prefer to just package it all and call it a day.

Not bi-polar American's

We bi-polar's are all over it, the truth, the reason for our malady, and with the truth comes real change so it must not be feared.
It would be nice if I could stop telling everyone the truth, but I don't feel it's good for me or them to lie or couch the truth. It's a real skin peeler to take off all these layers of deceit. Maybe I will find that I'm still lying after all of this, but I won't worry about it, as it will do what it's going to do whether or not I actually do anything.

We are so extreme

I should say that I'm extremely angry at a lot of things, but that is not my focus. I want to take control of my mind, thoughts, life, and the only way is thru my "anger management." 

My therapist was told that she could not let the bi-polar reporter run the therapy, and I was not manic when I last saw her, which made a huge difference. 
I'm not my anger, but then what am I? I guess I'm a lot of things, too caring, too much of a pussy who constantly gives chances to others but sadly not myself. 


This is my first blog back and I want to say that my "authority complex" has gotten even more complex as I found friends in my guards at jail. They not only watched me kick opiates, including herion, which I used three times this year, and benzo's I relied upon for self control, but they were KIND. 


The last part I did not expect. They were on my bi-polar radar as the "bad guys" and I guess that made me a good guy, sort of, but now they are truly appreciated. 


I want the Sheriff's department to know that they are supported by the insane, unkempt, types like me, the bi-polars. I'm sure they are thrilled but they should be as I don't take to just anyone, I'm kind of picky, so they must be extremely cool! 


Thank you all for your support, I plan on making this work, and will get back with my progress. Right now it's white knuckle time, trying to be an adult. Oh, didn't I tell you, I'm like born yesterday or something. 


When I left the jail I had no idea what I would face here at home, but I was hoping that it would be easy. NOT. It's been arduous and tough, like a bi-polar likes it I know, but also it's a learning experience, like I like it. 


I'll continue to let you know what I'm learning. And if the Sheriff's hear this message, please know I am sincere, and would like to make good on my promise. Walter and I tried to get there, but we ended up crying and buying a cell phone...(Don't ask) which is fun and awesome, I love it! 


Thanks to the people who care about me, you are so stupid, yet I love you....


More to follow: Indeed

Some things going on in our Comunity

Well it's been a couple of weeks since a post here and I'm a guest author today November 28 2011.

 I and my significant other were arrested in 2003 for sales of marijuana and won our case in 2004. After that we decided to celebrate the win with a big party just for Medical Marijuana Patients, their caregivers and families. We camp out and have a big BBQ dinner Saturday night and a band and pretty much all the good bud you can consume. It runs from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon and is just a really good good time.

The second weekend of this month we had our big party again. After the first one we had to make it a twice a year tradition. Full Moon in June and Harvest Fest times for are our parties and we've had 7 harvests and 8 June parties.

Every party a wrench gets thrown into the storm that is planning for a party to feed 100 people and this last Harvest party was no exception, except, that the wrench thrown was not a printer going out or running out of ink or such, but the sudden snap of my very bipolar best friend. Yeah, she up and decided that she wasn't going to take anymore medicine; period. None of it!

This was not a good thing. My friend was on heavy narcotics, Xanax, and she had to take thyroid meds as hers didn't work anymore. For those of you out there who don't know the significance of needing thyroid replacement medicine; the thyroid controls the heart rate and other vital processes. Without thyroid hormones you die.

It was weird how I was able to watch the SNAP of my friend's mind. I've flipped out before but had never seen it. And once she snapped... It was like all of the sudden she was enraged and there were no words to calm her. I had to ride that rage all the way home. Ahhhh! 

 I was instantly angry too! How dare she do this to me three days before my big party! So now not only do I have to worry if I got everything for this party but I have to worry if my friend is going to kill herself. She said she wanted to die.  NOT ON MY WATCH!

So this is Tuesday before the party when she flips. She drops me off at home and I'm freaked and look it. She goes on home too, she thinks to die. NOT ON MY WATCH.

The next morning another couple of friends went to check on her at my request. They took food and were hoping to talk her back to compliance. However, she was not having any of it. So they went to the fire department up the street and reported her as an attempted suicide. The cops came and she threatened them and then had a seizure. They ended up taking her to the local ER where she attacked a nurse and ran away. The cops found her at a church, curled up in a ball on the floor crying. They took her back in and she went to jail.

Now, I thought she went to 3-B at KMC or something like that. I did not know they just took her to jail.

So, we have our party, and it goes off without a hitch. It's Monday and I get word that my friend is in jail not a hospital. OH NO! So I make the call to the jail and tell them I have information about an inmate and I need to talk to medical or they could have another death in custody! I get transferred and am able to tell the nurse what's up with my friend and that she wants to die. She transfers me to the mental health nurse, who I again tell, and she thanks me, and I feel better. I know now that she will get the attention she needs.

The next morning I get a call from a lady, identifying herself as my friends case manager at KMC's 3-B ward. She tells me that my friend is there and her thyroid condition had been diagnosed and treated
and she was after a little history. I was happy to oblige. I was even able to give them the name of her endocrinologist which the manager knew. After we were done she told me I probably saved my friends life. Ha! She's not suiciding on my watch! In Jail or not!

My question is; Why was she sent to jail without life sustaining medications? It's not like she wasn't brought in as a psychiatric patient in the first place. But somehow after she assaulted the nurse and made her escape, her psych problem got forgotten, along with the rest of her medical history, including the thyroid. So she went to jail with nothing. Will there be any lasting damage to her heart or other organs from being without her thyroid meds for almost a week? I guess we will see.

Right now my friend feels great! Newly off the narcotics she's riding the high of sobriety. I am newly off morphine so I kinda know the feeling of having that weight lifted off. I just hope she doesn't crash. I didn't, but I'm hot as radically bipolar as my friend. I just hope she's ok from now on. No more wanting to die.  
   

As I walk thru your valley of darkness I shall not fear: Here's your drugs assholes

I'm in full mania right now, on the verge of attack, raging, roaring and ready to fucking do what I should have done a long time ago: show them how good their drugs fucking work when I don't use them.

Here's the deal, another mediocre mind of medicine has struck the right cord. I can feel it, it's a nasty one, and it needs to be dealt with now.

Oh drug seeker, we are going to put a contract under your nose you can't see and then mess with your medications. Take your list, that you try to keep, such as health goals, drug changes, whatever the hell I wrote.

I made a mistake, I think I put it up somewhere, but let me say, with no knowledge tonight, most likely tomorrow the rockets red glare, I am doing what my insane mother did and that is to get angry and stop taking all my medications, ALL OF THEM.

Moments from now they will be in the trash, and likely so will I. I really don't know, and have too much fear to ignore. If I seizure fuck it then I do. If I have pain and am angry, that's not a problem for me either. What is a problem is having my physical problems ignored by the ignorant.

So, can we get on with it? My fucking healthcare now that I've removed all your fucking drugs? I'm not seeking, and I don't want your comfort or the leash that goes with seeing doctors.

I'm done with this shit. In fact, I'm about to show you how done with it I am. I'm not only embarrassed that I have to explain this all the time, but do NOT take Xanax, or pain killers, if you want treatment for things other than the judgement of others...who have nothing to judge.

My recent mistaken PA, lied to me. She is a real winner, I cannot even believe this gal. She has no personality, which I could've lived with, but she has nothing really to give. No openness which she obviously has missed out on in her own life.

Just a stone cold one. Okay, you win, I'm done. Good for you.

Lupus and the kindness of strangers

The diagnosis

I'm glad I had someone with me when I finally saw the rheumatologist again yesterday after my unexpected absence this last 10 months.

I've had so many diagnoses in the last eight years, and we just discussed the insomnia I "woke up to" as a serious symptom for anyone, but most especially a bi-polar who has 24 hour drive-thru brain activity.

Dr. Kim had taken a whole slew of blood tests, but I had been side tracked with other more urgent issues, and when I did not return, I had no idea what these tests had revealed. There is a serious problem with communication between my doctors as these records should have reached my primary last November and only now am I hearing about the results.


Autoimmune has nothing to do with cars

With my first autoimmune diagnosis being Grave's Disease, I was told early on that if you have one you're likely to get another.

My endocrinologist told me this and had me tested for Lupus five years ago. Lupus is becoming big business and I was told that the rash on my neck which has stuck with me for six years connected me with the likelihood of this particular autoimmune disorder. 

I really didn't necessarily care or believe that I had this, as I have been told I had cancer at least three times, and given the variety of illnesses suggested, I didn't trust the tests or the testers.

This time I "felt it" when Dr. Kim said that I have the Lupus markers and that I have had them for years now. He also told me I had a severe Vitamin D deficiency too.

So, in the last 10 months, my tests have revealed not the probable onset of these disorders, but further confirmation of their on-going damage to my body.

I thought there was a cure

Knowing that I had been tested, the tests used were highly sensitive, and I knew somewhere in my mind that I have autoimmune problems, but I didn't know how bad it would get until now.

The doctor apparently didn't realize that I had been sidetracked because of other issues such as Bradycardia, pain episodes that no medicine can relieve, skin molting and weight loss, inability to get my thyroid under control, and finally the gastric issues that left a hole in my hull.

He was not sensitive as I asked about the cure for Lupus. There is a new therapy that had been touted around the internet as a cure for Lupus and my cousin thought to tell me that they could "cure" me.

Self delusion was what is was for me. I could have looked it up and researched it, but I wanted a cure and maybe I wanted hope of a cure. Either way I had a different expectation than what I heard.

The doctor told me they could treat it with Plaquenil the old standard and some Vitamin D which if he had listened to me, I would have told him I was taking a Vitamin D supplement during the winter but he had his agenda I guess. What that means is that there is still miscommunication, again.

Dr. Kim, who had been more sensitive the first time I saw him, made it clear that he was irritated that I had not returned. He said I could have kidney failure and die, that I have to treat the issue.

Well, they could have sent that information to my doctor here in the mountains, an hour away from his office, but five minutes from my home. Not to argue, which is what I do best, but healthcare is failing because of issues such as simply getting these records to the right people in a timely fashion. If this is so serious, then why wasn't a phone call made or a why didn't they check in when I cancelled the appointment because I had been harmed at the local ER?

So, I was told that this therapy would not end the pain, and I would not work again. Yeah, I was glad I had someone with me it was good for me and it also helped me to not hit him for being so coldly direct.

I am lucky to have my friends

I went quiet which is something that isn't me, and my friends have said the right things, as they are my support, they know me and what to say and not to say. They are also my counselors who are continuing to learn about PTSD which is a huge challenge at this stage.

My mind made a note yesterday of the methods the people are using around me to refocus my attention off of certain issues. I am always amazed at the gifts people have to give that they are often unaware of and I try to make sure they realize their importance in my continued life as well as what they bring to the world in general.

I would not have made it thru this last round without all the great care that has been given to helping me back to my feet. My friends have given me hope always, my father has been my strength, and my family has been my backbone, as I walk thru the valley of darkness I shall not fear.

Shit, I'm scared to death, but I have faith, and it's been God given and God driven. I was in the waiting room while one of my friends attended her appointment, and a conversation began with a woman who has many things in common with me.

She was sitting in a wheelchair, and we laughed talking about general things such as the new wave of pain management clinics. I threw in a few caveats about the legal "crack" industry and then I realized there was something about her that I needed to know.

Ask and you shall receive

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you in that wheelchair?" I wondered, being slightly invasive for asking her that so directly.

Her list started with Lupus.

And when she was finally done her husband pointed out her skin allergies, as she had huge red holes in her chest caused only by the EKG stickers.

My mind was reeling as she told me last week that she almost died in the hospital. But then she and her husband started laughing. I said, "you certainly have a good attitude about this."

She simply explained that it had been going on for 10 years and that she had to accept it or continue to be angry. I told her I'm still in the angry stage, but I realize I do need to move on from here as it won't help to do anything but make me more stressed out.

I got up after the conversation and was compelled to give her a hug. Though her issues from health problems were many, her ability to communicate compassion was still intact. She had a great sense of humor, she acted kind, and in that one hour I had a renewed sense that I am not my illness.

This woman was not her illness and I won't be either. Oh, you watch me work doctor, whether it be from my bed I will still maintain to whatever level I can reach comfortably. (though it may be uncomfortable for some certain others)

It's a new day with an infinite number of things I can and will do....

Insomnia: the forgotten symptom

Taking over my own health

I took a drive to the Rural Health Clinic over the weekend to see and maybe feel if I could, the beginning of what has become a mudslide of health problems that started in my life.

Yes, I'm bi-polar, but does that mean I am more prone to other disorders, mental or physical, or really what I'm saying was it the chicken or the egg?

Did my bi-polar  have anything to do with my thyroid problem for instance? The stress of being bi-polar could certainly link it to other problems, and here's the biggest problem I suddenly realized that I face: Insomnia.

For the last 8 years I have had differing levels of insomnia, meaning losing restful sleep so important to a BP, but also to any human being.

I could probably say that this symptom of itself has been a serious problem in my ability to regain my health. I've had autoimmune symptoms, and no diagnosis, but the problem I see is the fact that the symptom of lack of sleep, can exacerbate the rest of the problems.


Now I believe I may understand what happened with Michael Jackson

I've never had a sleep problem, I liked to sleep, and I made sure I had my 9 hours a night. It was clockwork back then, I didn't have to work to sleep, I just went to work and came home and fell asleep.

It seems easy enough, just like breathing, it was on it's own clock, the timer in my head, the Melatonin, all smooth sailing for 40 years.

And like a dark force had come over me, I couldn't sleep, my body went into stress.

Doctors immediately bring up "sleep aids" such as Ambien and I was given this drug at a time the insomnia was far beyond control of a drug.

The sleep pattern became so disturbed that I was in mania all the time, and I after a while I could not control it. In fact, my bird is living in a $800 dollar cage that was "free" to the crazy lady who nitpicked the imperfections of the cage, that the company decided to discontinue our purchase, and the cage was without cost.


But it's never without cost

As I was saying about Michael Jackson, he obviously suffered from insomnia to even consider using the particular drug, I don't have the name of it in front of me, but it's delivered via licensed anesthesiologist, to get to sleep.

His health, mental health was at stake, and the doctors even with all his money did not treat him properly.

I don't know anything about his potential for abuse of children, but I do know, that insomnia can cause a myriad of symptoms, including lack of self control.

When Jackson died, it was unnecessarily so in my opinion. He was sick, he couldn't sleep, his body had no recovery system to steady his mind and keep a balance in his body.

I could not handle the loss of sleep. I have a sleep journal my friend, not doctor, suggested I mark down the pattern which was occurring. Looking back in time, I see that I had a serious problem, and nothing on my medical records says "insomnia."


Why is insomnia not noted for it's debilitating side effects?

When I arrived here in this rural area above Bakersfield, I was sick, very sick, and probably slept one minute a night. But I was never sure, as I would writhe in bed, trying to get comfortable all night long. Suddenly I think the candle blew out for only a moment, then with a start, I would re-awake to the unreal, the one minute of sleep.

I assume my brain had to shut down or it simply began to shut down on it's own, to save my life.

Stress a killer and Insomnia the stress-or, together break down muscle, change the chemistry of the mind.

Now I'm not saying as a bi-polar that I haven't done some really strange things based on a mind which had no "off" switch, but what happened 8 years ago, was way beyond my "normal" strangeness.

I was in constant stress, my heart, my mind, and followed by these symptoms, my hair fell out, my hands shook, my strength wavered, and nobody thought to ask how much I was sleeping.

I've been thru one of the most horrendous stress events of my life, when the local hospital, a health trap, mishandled a case of Bradycardia with the use of Narcan, an opiate antagonizer. Not only that but the issue of "informed consent" but the misunderstanding about lack of sleep.

XANAX

The name of this drug sounds like a new car, but unfortunately elicits judgment from healthcare staff, as it is an abused drug apparently.

The drug is in the class of drugs called "benzodiazapines" which are anti-seizure medications generally speaking, but are also used for anti-anxiety, and for manics who just won't shut up.

This group of drugs has the benefit of calming, and it helps in sleep.

I started taking Ativan, which is close the the characteristics of Xanax, but not all of the "benzo's" are created equal, meaning they do not all act the same way.

After six years on Ativan, up to a dosage of 8 milligrams, (yes, that's a lot of honey for the bee) and Melatonin, Valerian root, other herbal sleep aids, and hell even milk, to try and get that sleep I so need, I knew it was no longer working.

I stopped and started various remedies trying to get back to the eight hours or even seven, and it has not changed, except to the extent that it harms me.

One, two, three...and I'm up and awake again, each night. Often, I find food in my bed, so I am getting up during the night in a state that is almost like sleep walking, but more like sleep eating. Crumbs and ants, walk over me, in my "slots" of sleep, then I'm back up.

Netflix has been a good addition to my night owl activities, as it keeps me from getting started on a project and finding myself at noon the next day still writing. I stream TV programs I have heard were good, but since I despise the lassitude of laying in front of a box of numbers deciding how my next few hours are being spent, so Directv, go to hell, I don't watch regular television.

But during these stressful nights, I took my Ativan for years, in fact, as I said, I was at a 8 mg. dosage and was still not sleeping for more than a couple hours at a time. I could have taken more, but I began to realize there was a change in the effectiveness of Ativan for me.


Previous uses of Benzo's

When my mother died, I took Ativan to help the stress. I took 1/2 mg. of the stuff, and I was out in a moment, even a little sleepy when I would arise.

Can you even imagine the shape a person would be in to take 8 mg. of Ativan? I can't even imagine, but now, with a few doctors who care, I am beginning to learn some new things about what is really stealing my health.

I took 10 mg., not voluntarily, at a hospital which had staff making a mistake and insisting that I take, kid you not, 20 mg. of Ativan.

I told these nurses that they needed to check their nursing manuals, and come back with the 5 mg. I was titering down to. It took me 1 1/2 years to go from 8 mg. to 5 mg. and these nurses, who usually will always give less of these types of drugs, came on like gangbusters, trying to force me to take this dose.

Instead, I was given the option of splitting my 20 mg. into 10. So, knowing I had been on Ativan for five years, and it wasn't working properly now that I was reducing the dose, I took the 10 mg. and chewed them, accepting no water.

One half hour later, one of the nurses returned, and I was wide awake and angry that I had to take this mistake, and I say it was because I was bi-polar that I was forced into taking more drugs than necessary. I was also not asleep.

Most people who have no chemical problems, would not have awoken from this 10 mg. error, but I did. Why is the question, and it is the why the doctors avoided the anomaly of why I can take this much of the medication.


They called me the "light weight"

I was never able to take drugs, I was what was called a "lightweight." And I'm not talking about my weight, but my ability to handle intoxicants.

Why hasn't this been addressed? Several reasons such as the moniker "drug seeker" and "user" which don't help to find out what has happened. These are lazy judgments designed to get a doctor an extra hour of flirting with his staff while his wife/husband cooks dinner at home.

I would NEVER recommend that anyone else with insomnia, concomitant with bi-polar and thyroid the master hormone, problems, that they use benzodiazipines for insomnia.

I also would NEVER tell anyone to try Ambien either as it made me angry and a feeling of being drunk.

But it's a serious problem that needs to be addressed. Part two coming up... 

My road's been less traveled

I think I've expressed my distaste for Facebook, but let me do it again anyway. It has replaced daytime television and has become some sort of race for thousands of friends who would never be there if you begged them.I think it's causing a new mental illness of sorts.

I'm not saying it doesn't have some advantages such as finding old chums, chatting with people who have no phones (or something like that) but it seems to be a place to say the oddest things. And some scary things such as what I read today.

There have been suicide posts on "Face it you're bored" and I'm even going to push it to cries for help. I looked thru many posts, and so many people are in need out there. They need to be heard.

My nephew is suffering from depression and he gets his support via Facebook. It is strange, but I guess I'm glad he has some way to express his out of control feelings and get a response.

Sometimes it's easier to write than to talk to someone about deep, dark feelings...I most certainly can relate to that. And I did write on "my wall" today. Then I commented on Facebook.

It's odd, but the internet can be a place of healing and as much as I don't have a "chicken" or a "diamond" for a game, I see there are benefits to this type of communication.

Our President Obama is using the internet in a way no other President or politician has in history. I've been saving all of his correspondences as well as Jerry Brown, California AG Kamala Harris, and our local representatives. This is history like we have never seen it in this context, and I am very interested in following the tactical as well as the other unique changes being brought about on the internet.

I see more disabled people working in the future on computers set up to serve their particular challenges. I could use some new additions to my computer which could possibly  make a difference in my ability to be more productive, possibly even able to work more.

Hopefully, in a few years I will not have to read, I will be read to. Yes, it's already available, but for a price. Touch screen would cut workman's comp in half. We already should be ordering our computers with voice commands, which again would stop the repetitive injuries eating away at our disability monies.

I need to work to live in the sense I need air to breathe, water to drink, food to eat. It's part of who I am and I don't want to give in to my maladies.

The internet is changing the world, we can reach out to each other. As much as I face off with Facebook, I do see some communication that is necessary.
The next generations of computers and programs should be considerate of the elderly who also could benefit from communicating with family. How many lonely people, lost their spouse, live alone, and have nothing but cable television, would benefit from seeing their grand kids via the computer, videos and so forth.

So, if I were marketing, I would make simplistic version for seniors who are afraid or have no experience with computers, which could offer safety, security, and support.

Kids with cell phones can call for help. Kids know how to operate these devices more so than their parents and parental controls are a joke.

It's a new age, with a new way of thinking, and how about those moments, fellow bi-polars, when you're about to unload on someone, you have a list of support people on your computer to keep you out of trouble. I know there are support groups starting on Facebook and it's a remarkable thing to have lived half your life afraid to say "hi, I'm bi-polar" and get a stare, and then find people who have experienced the very same prejudice and isolation, is a truly miraculous transition.

Okay, my nephew is important, and I'm going to go write to him on Facebook right now.