Write or Flight Syndrome: Bi-polar aftermath

Continuing the writing therapy:

I got a message from my friend yesterday, he had heard there was a bi-polar protesting a hospital, and he had to be restrained 15 times. My friend said, I heard that and thought of you.

It's a good thing to have a sense of humor and friends who know you well enough to say something like that.

There were a few weeks that passed and I hadn't called, so they make sure to call and leave messages that will gain my attention: that one did.

But what was interesting was that my friend defended a fellow bi-polar saying all he wants is to have people treated right, respectfully. My friends learned from years of knowing me, what a bi-polar can be about.

As I was updating them on my current condition and the activities surrounding the events which have left me in rough shape, I was told, that they appreciated my kind heart and have always thought of me as a good person.

I needed to hear it, it's been a rough time, and sometimes it's a matter of what you say to another. They are not familiar with any other bi-polar than me, but they learned to take care of me.

When I told them I discovered that the condition I was in was not emergent when the nightmare started three months ago, and none of this had to happen, they started telling me to breath. I have so much emotion on the surface right now, it's not unusual for me to go from crying to braying to laughing.

I'm on my way to learn about PTSD which is a serious disorder, and none of us, especially the sensitive bi-polar types, should ignore the damage this can do.

Right now I have to learn to concentrate and not drift back into the past where the pain and breach of duty took place on the part of supposed healthcare providers. They provided me with a new challenge, like I need one.

The people in your life are important

When I drift back in time, feeling those same feelings, I sometimes experience anger that I know if I let loose I would not be able to take back. That is why I'm trying to listen to the wisdom of my friends, and their observations of me, so I know where I'm at in time. I don't remember what day it is, I'm sure some of you can relate.

I'll bring back whatever wisdom I can as I have to gain control of this situation before some serious things happen.

I'm not scared so much as I'm not happy that my mind selects to occupy itself with these sorts of thoughts. I hope to find out what I can do and what I should do.

One thing is getting out of the area which is triggering these emotions, but I say that would be running, you don't start and fight and leave off. You finish it if it is worthy and just. I think it is, but then others think I should leave it behind and move on to getting my health back.

I'm considering both sides, but I'm also scrambled eggs these days.

A friend of mine has a child who was taken to jail because the police were tired of dealing with them, so, out loud, they say, we're going to teach him a lesson and take him away. Which they did. The lesson turned out to scar this child and did nothing to make anything better.

I want to teach some lessons too. I thank God everyday that I have had control up to this point and have not done anything yet. I've had the task of getting complaints out, alerting agencies and businesses and asking them to do their jobs in between pain and extreme emotion.

But I still have fight in me, and it's not ready to go away anytime soon. There are people who need to really think about who they are and what they have done. They are the one's I want and I will likely get them. I just want to do it in a way that doesn't disgrace those of us who have mental challenges.

So, I pray and keep in mind that I have my own set of principles not able to be reached by the shallow and the cruel, but ones that I will use to do all I can to set matters straight. Stay with the truth and there is safety, not always success, but there is success in standing your ground.

I have been fighting for other people, now I have the fight of my life...for me.

Just how bi-polar am I? A good witch or a bad witch?

A friend of mine who has never seen an incident of my bi-polar rage, got a dose of it over this last stressful year.

As we know stress produces a lot of fun chemicals in our bi-polar brains, yet we seem to like the stress, and are notorious for creating havoc. We like adrenaline it seems. We enjoy those miraculous chemicals that make us happy and joyous. We despise the depression. Resist at all costs. But really the depression is much easier to control than mania, especially mania that has no end or light at the end of the tunnel. It's a combo deal: mania and depression.

I have been battling it back for two months and I'm not sure when it will end or if I can make it back to home plate. For several years I've known different people and they were not witness to who and what I am. They know I tell them I'm bi-polar and I'm certainly garrulous enough to qualify, but it's the other stuff that is tough to analyze and understand. I've talked to so many non polars and they give the shit about, "it's just an excuse" "yes, you do have control" or "sorry you're damaged." None of the above are even close to actually living this kind of "self controlled" life.

What I mean is we have to be vigilent and honest about where we are in terms of our thinking which may lead to actions unwanted. On an average day I handle average stress without much ado. Then there are higher forms of stress and I know I'll be angry or upset so I prepare my reaction. Most of the worst reactions come from a few types of things such as physical pain, not getting enough sleep, and medication or drugs, the same but some are prescribed.

I note that most of the bi-polars I know, which are many, including family, have drinking or drug problems. I'm not one of them, but I do understand as I have drank my way through a few bad times. However this is not at all what you should do. A bi-polar has their own chemicals, you don't need drugs. Trust me on this one.

My friend took me to an appointment where they were going to gingerly put some cortisone or steroid in my back. The doctor said it would be fine, they would give me a pain killer, and that I would not feel anything. They forgot to give me the painkiller. The doctor ignored my communication as I gripped onto the bed, while he continued to insert things into my back. I was sweating by the time it was over, once I sat up, there was snap, crackle and pop, as my neck was so tense that it aggravated something and ended up with an instant migraine.

Now had I prepared and brought my own meds, the one's I know what the reaction will be, there probably woud have been no problems. But these doctors want nothing more than to fill your baggy up with pills and then you're fine. If you don't react well to the medication then you have a doctor with a mental issue, doctors need to feel they are doing something for you, even when they are not. Fragile people I've noticed become doctors.

After the procedure, not done exactly as described, the doctor could care less as I was ready to throw up on him, and I just wanted to leave, which I did. Sadly, I went crazy on my friend as she was the driver and I was the psycho freaking her out with my cussing and thrashing about.

She had a lesson to learn that day: this is what a bi-polar can do.

I learned that day that yes, I'm capable of things I don't even know about. We argued vehemently over my ability to "control it." She went on and on about how she had seen me control myself, and that if I would just listen to her all would be well in the world. I explained through clenched teeth from the back seat of the car that had I known there was a problem I may have been able to foresee the stress and control it, but now it was all past that point.

If you trigger a bi-polar, my recommendation from what I've seen and done, is run.

But she kept arguing with me. I told her she's the crazy one for arguing with someone in a crazy state, such as I was at the time.

Hint, if a bi-polar is angry and quiet, why ruin a good thing by arguing with them.

Finally miles down the road, I gave the warning not to fuck with me or argue with me anymore as I reached the point of no return and I would jump out of the car and walk home if I had to. I couldn't listen to a non-bi-polar telling me what I am or am not.

I suppose luckily she was slowing for a light on the busy street when I opened the door and jumped out. The shock of hitting the pavement gave me a moment of clarity: "did I just jump out of the car? I did, wow."

She was far more shocked as she came around to pick me up as I was brushing myself off and walking thru traffic.

I told her the only way I would get in that car is if she "shut the fuck up" and let me wade through my bi-polar disorder by myself. She had no other choice. Then as she let me vent and listened to my explanation, I could see and feel she now understood something she hadn't before. All the bi-polar talk and she had not seen a true episode and it took her by surprise. But after an hour of having to listen to me, she knew I know myself. I may not have control but I try to get it.

She also was now the "medical contact" as she could explain me and my maladies. However, she didn't get the chance recently as I've had more great healthcare chemically induce a major mental episode which is not finished apparently.

With all the government thinking hey let's cut the benefits of people who rightfully should be given help to keep a balance in this country. How foolish, what idiots, the government contains to think we polars are ignorant fools, out of control. You will find most of us have above average IQ's and that we have little patience for stupidity.

The best option in dealing with our kind is simple kindness. Once triggered, an episode can last two minutes or two years or basically it's unknown. I'm trying to deal with a difficult situation which has me at a point of wondering "will I make it?" That sort of stress seems to propagate itself. And that is often countered with suicidal thoughts and basically a host of imagery of homicidal thoughts. This is where it gets dangerous and where you better know who you are dealing with and what to do. I honestly can say I don't know these current thoughts or myself at this point, thus keeping a balance is problematic even for me an old polar bear.

I believe I could say I'm experiencing other types of disorders, such as panic attacks when I recall a certain situation where I had pain to the point of dying. I'm also spacing out going back to the trauma, which I don't think is necessary and it is unpleasant.

How do I stop it? One of the main things to do is always question yourself if you feel you are out of control. Others as I described with my friend, may never have seen a true manic rage episode and they will not be prepared for it. She never expected me to jump out of the car and frankly neither did I. Every healthcare provider should be prepared for such episodes and friends and family need to create support to keep things from going from bad to much worse.

I have several to thank for my most recent challenge and this is where you have the most stress, is with people who will hinder from healing: mostly healthcare folks. They think they know fucking everything. The doctors in my town should start their own website called, "I'm so arrogant I think I know everything." They can tell us all about how great their own lives are with their ill fitted mates, their cheating on each other, their smoking and likely my most recent experience includes a doctor who was either on drugs or who is in need of an education.

If you can beleive it, I'm the "nice one" in the family. My brother and sister have actually stabbed people and shot guns at fleeing "former" friends or lovers. They have done things in their rage which I helped them work through the same as I do with my own mind. I talk them through it, now they don't know what the hell to do with me. My biological mother, she's the worst of it, she's like a biological warfare, one hour with her and your life falls apart. She's a bi-polar I should bring to this community where I live and then leave immediately because she would tear this place apart. She is diabolical and scares the shit out of me. My syblings are far more malable and resilient, whereas she's got the bad vodoo bi-polar.

When her life and mine collided as I stupidly tried to help her, I had the lesson of a lifetime. She didn't want help, whereas I do, but can't get help. No matter what type of issues you have always keep your friends informed, my whole brigade is on watch with me right now, but some are angry and some are hurt and some have no idea what roils in my head at this juncture. My torment is I can't let go of the torment and it is seeming out of my control. I'm a workaholic who can't do much but write about what? My torment.

Help is somewhere, I can't believe there are only people like I've seen here in the Killer Kern river valley, one of the worst places to live if you have health issues or children in school. I thought I was coming to a place for some quiet while I healed up. Instead I face my biggest challenges ever in my life and my health slid right down the mountain. In terms of trying to deal with people of supposed "intelligence" tell them ahead of time, always tell your doctor and do drop any doctor that makes any remarks or tells you that you are not okay and a redeemable, important person in this world. The more positive an environment, the more likely you'll successfully be a true blue bi-polar American. And the more likely the people will be more understanding with you.

I'm on edge, actually I am an edge that should not be rubbed up against right now as it's a cutting edge. I'm in a "time out" trying to deal with things in a way that the rage doesn't take control or taken out on the wrong people. There have been too many times in my life I've done things I regretted later.

That is your answer to the question: Just how bi-polar am I? Do I need on-going treatment or just here and there? All keys to being a successful bi-polar. And it's possible. I didn't need constant treatment until I had trauma and physical disorders and pain to go with it and then it becomes a multiple problem. Stick with it, there are always answers and I have my own to deal with, hopefully it won't involve CNN. That's for the next post... may there be one.

Handling Bi-polars in an ordinary hospital setting: what will they do?

Cracked bi-polar I've been talking to people lately who have bi-polar and other ailments that have changed their lives, the status of thier lives as we have been given the challenge. Challenges are my favorite things, I look for them, seek and destroy. I learn as I live and I live as I learn. But recently something hit me, that my local hospital, devoid of compassion, as well as completely ignorant about bi-polar syndrome, has rudely interrupted my life. They took control they had no right or understanding to take. What do you do faced with this, bring in a lawyer who is equally as bad as the arrogance we are seeing in healthcare since George W. put a cap on monies recovered from your doctor. The are like free range chickens, run and in and out of doors, with prescription pads. At the KVHD ER, they sometimes try to mount an effort to look professional but they know they don't have what they need: which are the people who make a difference. One serious flaw is their inability to deal with disabled people, whether that be in terms parts of the structure, the policies in place which are not upheld, and the victims that come out of this machine are numerous. In fact large enough numbers could really deal out a class action lawsuit especially in terms of how they handle mental and physical handicaps. Now they are really killers over there. Nothing they have done with their records could define the damage. My feeling is there needs to be more extreme measures. Hell, the animal activists went to labs and rescued animals leaving behind damages, closing some abusive situations. They had to, they were humans tortured by the thought of hurting animals for our benefit, such as does it sting eyes or grow tumors? But then we have these creature to thank too. But where are the advocates at hospitals? Why is there no oversight in hospitals and why is it too late already. After my mental fracture, I have yet to experience anything like this in my life. My health was totally robbed and I ended up sicker than when I went in. How does that make sense. The question is who will take responsibility? The longer it progresses that I cannot fulfill my ability to get proper treatment, my mind has symptoms as well as my body, and they are not healing quickly either. Bi-polar but human...for now. I'm changed and changing, the thoughts, the hallucinations all because of lack of vigilence and qite possibly a vindctive event. I'm bi-polar and we fight and we write about it, we don't just stand around and look for ques from others. The manics have moments where control isn't always there. It's frightening, but more so for those who don't know how to deal with it, respect it. I have some serious ideas for education which could minimize all of this.

1. Once a bi-polar enters a healthcare facility all phone numbers of family or friends are made sure to be on hand in the event of a problem.


2. Bi-polars should have their own doctor to be able to explain to temporary doctors such as are in an ER, so that they are not mistaken for a "bad personality" or "asshole."


3. A summary of reactions to stress should be involved as if the intake is for "physical health" that will NOT happen at a mental facility. Most do not handle both issues, so a hospital needs to prepare.


4. If the patient is conscious immediately find out what medications they can and cannot take. I cannot take many type of medications making me susceptible to serious conflicts and mood swings. Loss of abilty to fully communicate.


5. A call to the mental health to let them know there is someone of this nature on hand would help,, as long as there is any mental health help left.


6. Talk to your doctor and sign up a friend or family member to make decisions when you cannot or they can at least help. Many people do not react well to hospitals, and bi-polars are no exception.


7. Create a chart to show your moods, much like a pain chart.


8. Pain and bi-polar are not buddies and manic rage can come on when there's too much pain. find out the level of pain the person can handle.


9. Give patients medications they are used to taking. New meds are always a challenge and certain medications can cause suicidal or other homicidal thoughts.


10. Maintain communication as best possible, but do not pretend, always know the person has a keen sense of people and their motives, it comes with bi-polar.

These are simple, that is what we need is simple. If I ask a question, what medication are you giving me, for example, the process unless so dire, should stop and explanations should occur. Communication the key.

I now have a serious mental problems I cannot define, but have to somehow try and deal with. My family and friends have tried to be there, but we are too far away, but make those important phone calls and write emails.

The mission I am on right now means that I stay busy as I don't that's when I begin to worry about trauma. I've had so much of it in my life, and I certainly am no threat, yet, but it could happen. It could happen before I can stop it.

I am hoping that in my case I can make a difference and bring people to do the right things. But I don't hold much hope is my problem, too many of the negtivity is getting hold as days go by.

If there were to be a miracle of some sort, something good coming out of something so horrific, then I could rest peacefully. So far, it looks as if some are not aware of how close things have come of recent to being different than what I want.

But I'm beginning to believe that we do have a war on our hands, and blood as been spilled for lesser things, so why not?

Jerry Browns talks of anarchy, so I guess I will too. Brown does what he wants with as much self admiration we can't get him away from the mirror, and now he needs to quit looking at himself and begin to see that problems can be turned easier with less government.

Or at least keep it simple. Don't let the bi-polars out of our nets, you never know about us, with the energy and creativity, it's a lost resource, labled damaged and stigmatized.

Teased, taunted, and tattered: Kern Valley High School student poem

She's an amazing kid, deep, sensitive, remarkable. Her life came up against the ugliness that is and was the Kern Valley High School in Lake Isabella. From these experiences, she has written, poetry, which can only be described as "intense."

The high school, which was described by some students as "racist" and parents concerned as their children were targeted by bullies and the victims were then harmed by having to be home schooled.

Everyone knew it. We let this happen. You know who you are. Two students killed themselves, leaving family behind to wonder what happened, the grief has to be overwhelming.

Psychologists jumped in only to confuse as they too could have helped. Their education useless against the pain of the "real world." They talked in ideals nobody cared or wanted to understand.

Here is a poem you can not only understand you can feel.

How would a religious person perceive these young minds? With closed minds. A community with more churches than sins, can't even agree on what do in response to the "lost voices" and have divided. Power not spirituality has taken hold of these people.

But here's your hope...


GONE:
Darkness claims the mind,
as terror seizes the soul.
Reality fades,
as nightfears take control.

A dream with no escape,
a prison with no door.
Lovers lost and family forgotten,
a shadow you'll be forever more.

Every creaking floorboard,
and every bump in the night.
Screams echoing in the dark,
with fears fraught with fright.

What will become of us in the end,
when we've traveled as far as we can go?
Waiting for something,
as we cry tears of woe.

Seconds tick away,
dragging painfully on.
The countdown thats started,
ends when we're all gone.

The life of a bi-polar: Fighting only the good fight

I'm not sure where to start or even what the title of this post should be, but it's been a ride from hell in my world of late, and I have found that humanity is only sprinkled sparingly out there in other people, their behavior, their actions.

Being bi-polar is a tough job, it's not something to be taken lightly, as you realize that people will use it against you if they can manage it, and they will also try and misconstrue your capability in a pinch.


It's called prejudice.

We think racism is the only form of prejudice, though it is and is one of the worst to tell another human being they are less than you based on their skin color, eye shape, their hair, culture, etc. There is also sexism, where women have been targeted to believe they are inferior or useful only in situations involving raising children or amusing male dominance.

If you look around you, you will find, I believe the strongest people in the world are African American women.

In fact, if I were to look for people who are willing to fight for their family, (our human family as well) and do it because it's the right thing to do: I would want to see a black woman. Now, when I say "black woman" I mean this distinction not to distinguish, but to simplify.

African American is a combination of culture and residence I guess, but not ALL people of color come from Africa, therefore, I've narrowed it down to "skin pigment and sex."

When I came to this rural valley in California almost 7 years ago, surrounding Lake Isabella, I could tell there was something different here, I couldn't quite put my finger on it at first. Then finally, a family in line in front of me at the store, gathering items to go camping and fishing, caught my attention. "That's whats missing, any other race than white."

I lived all my life in neighborhoods which were made up of different people: Asian, African, Phillipino, latino, and now I found myself in this almost exclusively "cracker town."

Then I found this place is a hot bed of racism as even the school district was known for scolding children for saying blasphemous things such as "Goddammit" but they were allowed to utter or even shout racial epithets. Wow, what a place to live.

Now, I should have known, (the next part of this is going to be easy,) that a bi-polar, white as a ghost, would now suffer the judgement, the degradation, the very same things associated with various forms of prejudice and discrimination.

It is my health that has suffered.

Being bi-polar is a full time job, you fail, you get back up, you fail again, and you often lose control, feel guilty, and gain a reputation, especially in a town with no conscience such as I found here in what we call the "Kern River Valley," no forgiveness or compassion.

I constantly have to "prove myself" or have my honesty challenged, and it's a burden to carry.

One of the burdens I carry is my heavy duty compassion for others. I know the feeling, the loss of self esteem, stolen by those who think by diminishing another they somehow make themselves rise. However, most of us of any intelligence know it's quite the opposite: you bring others down and you reap the reward which is the unsettling feeling that you are truly NOTHING.

My doctors have put me in a situation where I cannot get medical help. How could they do that? Well, they covered their mistakes, their judgements, as they cannot take responsibility or admit to their own shortcomings or wrongdoings. They harmed my ability to trust them, repeatedly.

The local newspaper made it worse. For a time I could not lay on my couch, eat half a chicken and a whole pie and lose weight anyway. My weight has also been of issue: you're too skinny, you must use drugs, you don't eat enough.

I tried to write for the paper, which I did until I realized they had no moral compass, only a calculator for their share of the advertising dollars. A true capitalist would have no problem with that, but a person of character would.

As i prefer to do even in public, even with the eye of the weak and wicked on me, is tell the truth as I see it: we had two suicides which may have been avoidable had the publisher and co-editor went after a certain school in the valley.

Please understand that I can't keep this in, it's been bothering me for months now, and it is simply the truth. This person who recently resigned from her position over children only to be placed in another position with money, was in my grasp four plus years ago. I had all I needed to remove her from power as well as her partner.

But the newspaper called off this dog. They said, in an email, I keep looking at, feeling sick to my stomach over each word, "...let it go."

Sometimes you don't let it go, it has meaning, and it can keep others from suffering. Yes, things are easy to let go, and say, hey it's not my problem, or somebody else will do something, then two young people die. They killed themselves. I had a serious emotional reaction. I knew in my mind I could have rid this town of this woman, but I allowed two people with the emotional equivalent of a cockroach, to sway me.

The moment I heard I wanted to help, then the reputation as the "hospital hunter" had mauled my ability to go forth with ideas I had for the "lost children" of this community.

In fact, I had decided my services were not doing anything, as I prayed to God to show me why this had happened, I wanted to kill myself. Not only that, I knew exactly how to do it. In a moment of destiny, my brother showed up, and we had words.

My Brother...

He had been drinking his life away for three years, and had constantly threatened all the people who loved him that he was going to kill himself. I never believed he would, and I challenged him.

He came into my room, I wielded a stick at him warning him off. He said as if he had control and not a beer or two in his bladder, that we should "do it together." He was not prepared for my reaction: "yes, let's do it, I have it all here and now, are you ready? You've been saying it for three years ARE YOU READY?"

Unstable, and not understanding that I was feeling sick from a variety of health issues, as well as emotionally shot down after the kids killed themselves here, I challenged him.

There was fear in his eyes as my voice changed, overpowering him, and he backed up. Three days later he hit rock bottom and has been sober for over a month. We don't talk right now, as he has his new and improved vision of the world, outside a beer can, and I have to conquer my own demons.

Healthcare hazards...

I'll be talking about what happened to me here in the KRV since I came here in 2003, a bi-polar, who had been previously damaged by a doctor and an antibiotic, called Gentamicin. Not many healthcare providers even know what sort of damage there own drugs can do to people, and I am one of them.

Not only have I been discriminated against, but I was literally tortured due to the misunderstanding of my bi-polar. I never like to go off on people, my preference is to talk it out, but others seem to think we of the chemically challenged are inferior.

My mind was played with, my emotions disturbed, my heart ached as my friends and family believed a nurse who should be an engineer and not working with people who are sick, or as one of my family called her, "Tokyo Rose." She actually tried to tell me I was hallucinating, and began a show for her co-workers, the doctors, as she knew NOTHING and apparently learned little, but will soon learn more.

This inferior mind apparently got to everyone. How then could it be that I made them so uncomfortable that they attempted in every way to demean and diminish me? That shows their own weakness and really has nothing to do with me or you.

But they succeeded in making me cognizant that this issue cannot be dropped and let go, as it was not a mistake, it was a complete loss of control. I could count the people on one hand who had intelligence enough to reason beyond their own prejudice. And those people do COUNT, they are the ones who make this world tolerable for all of us.

They are strong of mind, not weak of character and heart. I care what they think, I don't care what the weak and powerless, or the angry mob I'll call them, think because it could be of no use. They were like single cell life forms, reacting, but not acting.

One young nurse, told the mob, "why don't you just relax?" Yes, that was the question, but it's their question to themselves.

It's not just them, it's an administration at a hospital, the Kern Valley Healthcare District, that is the biggest disappointment along with its board member, hospitalist's, clinic Sienna Wellness Institute. But we shall not forget the Rural health Clinic, a monster, the catalyst for such things as ignoring warnings of abuse in their patients, which almost lead to the death of one only two months ago.

One arrogant doctor said he was here to fulfill his obligation to pay back student loans. (Hope we could help.)

What motivates people is what attracts you to these people. The CEO and CFO of KVHD hospital earn more than most administrators in Bakersfield and beyond. Why?

Sadly the answer to why is the people of this valley haven't enough self worth to actually stand up and say, "enough."

Now, it begins, the real battle. After preachers, teachers, psychologists have failed our children, they argue now amongst themselves, instead of taking action to help.

I'm going to post a poem from one of the children who was abused, teased, slandered at our school. She's amazing, real, and the poems speak for themselves. This child could one day be in charge of you...let's give them our all, and quit the ridiculous nonsense of who is right and wrong, and begin the work, the service, we can provide this world.

To those who have diminished me to a point they HIPPA violated (a healthcare term) me when my own doctor said, "does she have a gun?" Then made reference to me shooting people.

Why? You all know why, because I'm bi-polar. Well, i don't need a gun to take down the weak, maybe a fly swatter? Or a rolled up newspaper for their noses? Or how about a cotton ball...that would hurt. I think they are afraid of themselves, as they keep showing fear, not strength and compassion.

Can we? Will we? Should we?...Stay alive

I can hear the cracking in my brain, the rattling of old thoughts from the past, and I know now is the time to begin again.

After writing the post to the teens of the KRV and everywhere, I found myself uncomfortable with the subject of suicide.

I just reread what I wrote to the kids, and it sounded good, and had meaningful intention, but it didn't quite foretell what would happen to me two weeks ago. And my brother, swinging from his string, strung out on alcohol, is there too.

In a moment of pain and confusion, both physical and emotional, I convinced myself that my only option was to kill myself. Honestly, it is not the first time I've tried, and I knew the whole issue of the teens from the Kern Valley High School who committed suicide recently, was bothering me in a way I couldn't understand.

Listening to conversations amongst the kids about the suicides brought up my own fears and anxiety. I hadn't any idea how to talk about it with them, since I have never resolved my own issues.

In fact, I was so uncomfortable, becoming miserable even, because I have not rooted out the problems that still to this day make me a potential suicide.

At 11, I ate up a bottle of aspirin. My parents had divorced, and my new situation was far worse than the previous one, and I didn't have much in the way of desire to continue the farce that we were a family and this was simply how everyone lived.

I wasn't stupid enough not to look at other families and other people and realize that something was very wrong.

These issues still exist, I can't escape them, I can only face them. They are not mine really, they are the secrets of others. The ones I feel I can't even address in my own mind let alone a public blog.

But it's time.

Basically, I'll go through the list of things that got in my way that tormented me, that made me feel worthless, scared, out of touch, afraid to communicate my feelings, and finally, so full of angst I sought relief from attempting to kill it all, I guess. I wanted it all gone.

Sexual abuse: chronic feeling of shame that I couldn't stop it or stop it earlier; confusion of love and sex; feeling like I had no ability or right to have boundaries for myself; a need to hurt myself began early on, but unlike suicide, this was a self punishment type of thing, whereas suicide is an escape.

Physical abuse: post traumatic stress syndrome meaning I haven't and probably won't forget the fights. I already had so many issues with the sexual abuse, next came the new feelings of being hit, bruised and bleeding. But there was also the new me, who began to fight back. I had forged a fire in my soul by this time, and no one was going to beat on me without a response. Yeah, I responded all right, and the fights were over the top, as I was angry with me, with the world, and I hated alcoholics. I was just telling a friend, that I used to drink to get along with the drunks, that I never really liked to drink, it was a defensive mechanism.

Emotional abuse: I think of all that happened it was the emotional abuse that did the most damage. A fist can cause a black eye, but consistently telling a child they are worthless, will cause blindness. I am blind to my own worth. The messages were confusing, and I was confused as to why I was under attack. It was much later in life that I was even able to understand that the people who did this, were and still are, very much insecure and intimidated even by a child.

I wasn't an average child, I am and was bi-polar. My chemistry changed early, I could give a crap what all the experts say, it came right along with all the strain of living a life of pain and confusion.

Built to fight

It became apparent the world was not a safe or honest place, and it is still not. There are liars and bullies everywhere, and they still bother me, and I still fight back.

I'm becoming tired of seeing a world of deluded people who have nothing to give, only a sense of false hope.

I have hope, I believe in the unbelievable, mostly because I lived it. I tried at least six times to seriously escape this mess we call life. Each time something happened which kept me alive another day. The rope broke. My mother kept me awake and made me eat, not knowing I had taken all my grandmothers sleeping pills and was hallucinating wildly. The gun jammed. My brother and sister drove six hours to find me after I was attacked, packed with pills and alcohol.

Why I'm alive is really a big question.

Now, my brother, on the edge for years and years, does not want to die, he just refuses to live. He is afraid.

Embarrassingly, I made an attempt two weeks ago, when I was spun around by hopelessness, and found myself staring my brother in the eyes. I told him, let's do it together. I let him know his drinking himself to death is no different.

In that moment, I saw his fear, and he saw my intention to die. It scared us both.

I knew he would go off the deep end, but then he needed to. Now, after two crazy bi-polar nights, he is going to a doctor.

Hold on...that subject is on its way, but there is a reason we are doing this.

There is NO place for someone without money to DETOX. Yes, Governor Brown, you can cut that budget for mental health even more, as you spend twice as much on people who have no outlet for help...from alcohol.

Legal and advertised, booze, parties, yes, it's all right until it ruins your whole life and health. Add some tweek or crack, and you've got a person who is costing more than a DETOX bed.

But we have discussed that we will detox him at home, or a daily ER visit, then use another drug called "antibuse." Apparently, this drug will make my brother very sick if he tries to drink again. His will power is gone, like many these days, and he decided this would be the route that might be successful.

We're on our way to be judged and then drugged.

But we must talk now, all of us, the order of the bi-polar disorder, as mental health budgets are missing all around the country. People are killing themselves and others and its time to find a way to deal with all of this.

I'll be back with the rest of the story, as there is a lot to tell.

Kern River Valley teens I want to talk to you about suicide

"The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time."
Jack London

Resuming the Bi-Polar American

There have been so many things going on in my life, inside and out, of recent, but when I saw the reports of two young teenagers, 15 and 16, killing themselves, I couldn't help being effected.

I've met so many young kids in this town, some have jobs, do well in school, have ambition, know where they are going, but these are very much the minority.

Most of what I see have been teenagers completely out of touch with the world around them, parents equally out of touch or even out of reach. Nobody to turn to, except friends, drugs or alcohol.

It's not a pretty picture, teenagers with no self esteem, no skills, no security whatsoever, hiding their pain, just trying to survive.

Life is what we make it or how much we can take it

Who the hell just wants to survive out there, raise your hands? Not me. Doesn't sound like a great future, simply surviving.

And I'm not talking about how much money you have, your car, your hair color, skin color, your boobs, your dicks, I'm talking about how you think and what you create with those thoughts.

Now who wants to learn what you really are? I know any teenager faced with that question thinks they would rather not know who they really are because it's going to be bad news. They are going to be told of a terrible nature they wish they could avoid hearing about.

Knowing what you are and being judged have to be clarified to get this point.

Judgment, good or bad, as they say, is simply a way of defining things. It's also a way of causing separation, division, miscommunication, all really cool things too. Sometimes though it can be described as a decision making process but is nevertheless inferior to understanding and acceptance.

Understanding means a willingness to go past the cover of the book and really get inside and find out what is going on. It's not a necessarily unpleasant task, it means you take more into consideration whereas judging you narrow the field.

When we were all young, tiny ones, we crawled around, finding things, tasting them, touching them, spitting some out, and experiencing the world. It was fun, dangerous, great. There were no parameters at this juncture, and the world was incredible. Television...ooo...now we have 9000 channels and nothing to watch. At one some juncture you probably found a different type of grass interesting, the tiny stalks called a lawn.

Remember looking up in the sky and seeing the vastness, watching the blinking, the stars, the color, the moon, it was all part of the universe, a big, big, big universe with variety, sanity, chaos, God; we were in heaven. Our minds and spirits were open and the world was abundant in every way.

We had our keepers, our parents or whomever loved us enough to care for us, in most cases, we were kept from danger as we began the journey.

It's all still here, and you have to find it, believe in it, and have faith that everything is the way it is supposed to be.

What I notice with teenagers is the beginning of "losing yourself" which is necessary to beginning the bigger journey finding yourself in everything else.

You're moving through a process

Then comes fear, it's the time of life where we have to look at the dangerous side, as unlike the stage of exploration and adventure which some of us were allowed early on, we start looking for absolutes.

These absolutes are to protect us as we have swung on the pendulum from gas to brakes. It is a stage, that hopefully we can break through, where we have our "rebellion."

We need to be told how to be ourselves for some odd reason at this point of life, I don't understand, but it comes along with the fear stage.

Seeking a structure to live in our minds and hearts begins to appear. Sometimes this is where I notice many people must get caught in their lives. The need for a "rule book" or a set of instructions comes from that fear the feeling of separation which is a natural course if you follow it through.

When you begin thinking for yourself, you will learn that we are all thinking the same things. So, you think you're so smart? You are.

The rebellion

You start out on a course of adventure, there is nothing to fear. You move to the next stage where everything should be feared. Spiders are no longer friends to follow across the fence. They are dangerous man eating, poisonous, deadly creatures which must be eliminated for your survival.

At this point I think we all begin to understand our adventure could be over if we decide to swim in the pool and don't know how to swim.

Eventually, we delineate what is dangerous in our opinion, and what is an acceptable risk. Balancing it out. The world is all bi-polar from the north pole to the south pole.

Then we begin to question everything, and we don't really like the answers we are getting as young adults. Our parents didn't tell us everything did they? How could your mother tell you about the time she and her pals drank until they puked and slept with her cousin or something?

Communication breaks down as parents try to remain in control as they see more danger than a teenager who simply hasn't had that much experience. But at this point, we all must break free of our parents/society/family/ and begin the fun part of being responsible for our own actions.

Again, we go the other way and learn that our parents weren't as stupid or even, were worse than we thought.

Now you think for yourself

I can't help wondering how these two particular teens made the decision to go to the extreme of suicide.

There are always multitudes of answers for problems, but one answer that has no return receipt is suicide.

These very young people made a serious decision. There had to be a problem that they believed this was an answer to use. We don't know what it was necessarily, but we see they did not communicate with anyone to warn them of this potential decision.

I wonder myself these days and especially now why I thought suicide was an option for me.

Suicide doesn't have to be a sudden death, it can be a lifetime of self abuse, it can be killing your spirit, denying your knowledge of being part of it all, letting yourself be used by others to the point of not knowing your own worth. No, I think suicide is a way of thinking.

We at any point must start thinking for ourselves, as I spoke of understanding and acceptance.

As a teen you are still working under the boss, your keepers, your teachers, your family hierarchy, but if you are not communicating or able to be close and truthful, learning trust, you may find yourself feeling alienated and alone.

Often these are the fuels which lead to the desire to consider death as an alternative to life. We have been given that option, there is a way to override any instinct for continued existence.

Understand you are okay no matter if you were the one who spilled the Kool aid on the carpet, the one who is labeled "always in trouble," the fat kid, the red haired kid, the youngest, oldest, whatever, it really is okay and so are you.

Now what are you going to do with this? You're going to open your mouth and talk to someone if you feel like you need to talk. Some people want to tell you what to do and that makes them feel important. Sometimes they are more correct than you and that's okay too.

Just talk...Don't go down the road of suicide or even long term suicide, there are many answers and just as many people with ideas, so seek them out. If you find you have no one, you are not looking hard enough. It's right there, it's called prayer in certain circles and meditation and focus, these are all states of mind.

You are never "alone." It's sometimes a matter of reaching out and developing a trust in the universe, but for those who like absolutes, you are never alone. The universe is so close you may not even see it. It's there always.

It's only in how you choose to percieve it does it change into either loneliness for some, freedom for others, time to think for some, and moments with our attention toward God.

I've been working with kids all my life, as I've been passing along what I have learned, I find I am the one doing the learning. Thank you. I've gained so much from talking with these kids many of you walk by or judge. They have helped me learn about what happened to me in my life while often times brightening my day with their whispy ways.

My basic message is that you the next generation, are all right. You have a challenge ahead of you as you have seen what greed, war, racism, sexism, genocide, did to this world over the ages. You also have new tools and new dreams for the future.

But first you have to get through today. If it's too tough, as it sometimes is, don't make it worse, you have the power to make it better: you think it better. (no band aid required)

Stay alive and create miracles

First thing I want to make sure is that nobody judges these children who committed suicide as them being any more flawed than the rest of us. They weren't weak, they weren't inferior, they were simply human. They made a decisions that is all.

We are the ones who should learn.

They are in God's arms, safe and secure, and we are here to talk about what other options there are in this challenging world around us.

Let me tell you there is so much out there you need to go back and start over and begin your journey everyday.

You are flawed, but perfectly so. Enjoy it, laugh at it, and remember that you have been given all you will ever need. We are all going to die eventually, but now is the time you've been given to live.

What are you doing with it? Right now...Each moment you have a choice.

Resuming the Bi-Polar American

I'm back, for all it's worth, but I felt I had to discuss more of the issues of bi-polar as there's now more to tell.

After many years living as a bi-polar I now have realized that I have the ability to control or to abuse the use of the chemicals which live in my brain. Or rather are produced in my brain.

As I've said before we are a factory of chemical combinations which can create havoc, negativity, rage, self loathing, and on the other side, incredible physical strength and "High Times" like euphoria, if you're lucky.

I've always tended to lean towards the more hypomanic side, which I knew from an early age how to create without the use of anything other than a few less hours of sleep. Can you imagine what the junkies would do with my brain and my chemicals?

We often abuse them in the sense that what goes up must come down, there is much to be learned about the ability to rise and fall, like the sun and the moon, and I don't know at this point if I can actually master this.

After Graves disease set in there have been issues in my own thinking that I either learned from or would have been killed by them. I've never experienced my bi-polar the way I do now.

The comment regarding the suspicion that Grave's and or thyroid related disorders can achieve the same sorts of chemical changes in us, is in my opinion very much an avenue to research. I've seen much alteration in personality in people who have this hormone off balance.

But thyroid controls so many things that it is even more so a threat as well as a challenge for physicians to understand thyroid in all patients not only bi-polar types.

I've read much regarding the "personality" and physical changes in people who have a thyroid disorder and they can begin to react like a bi-polar without ever having experienced any of the bi-polar seasons.

So, I would agree if you see any changes in your friends or family that have not been there before, you may be dealing with the Chief of the hormones, thyroid.

The thyroid can alter other hormones, male and female, can cause weight gain or weight loss, can actually kill you without it in your body and kill you if you have too much or lead into what they describe as "thyroid storm."

Thyroid storm is when there is far too much of the chemical in your body and generally cardiac arrest occurs which cannot be treated.

Personally speaking, the thyroid issue is so complicated when mixed with the bi-polar personality and things have and still are out of my control.

For instance, this last month has been the most physically challenging month of my life, I would say on every level. Not that I've defeated it, I just keep going. I try to learn from everything that happens.

I don't fear death, I am however sometimes offended by life. I simply don't think it's all that fun or interesting if the world turns on it's own axis and there is a bi-polar world which has no awareness of it's condition.

Staying aware of your states of mind is imperative to us chemically improved, bionic brains which don't turn off sometimes even after they are unplugged. It must be somehow that we get the luxury of being frightening to others who only wish they could muster an original thought.

Or those who think we are somehow "disabled."

Are race car drivers disabled? No, they just drive faster than those stuck on the LA freeways at midday.

If an average person tries to understand the many challenges (I'm using this word as it makes use of the action necessary to deal with or understanding your unique chemical make up) of having to stay on top of the emotional and physical at all times, they would tire of it quickly.

The world is made up of many kinds of people, labeling is, well, stupid. So, the first people are the stupid people. Stupid means they are too frightened to open the doors of perception and let in ideas and accept their own individuality. That's all it is, as the usage of people being derived of some lesser quality is only a false idea. Everyone has something to give to this world.

Ignorance is bliss for some and honestly I am jealous as I can't really remain "ignoring" things that are trying to improve me, as sandpaper smoothes the wood and brings out the grain. Each issue I run up against is a chance, an opportunity to learn something new.

Remaining ignorant that bi-polar like issues are strictly for those of us given the label or title like in a movie, means that people will be clueless to their own reactions to experiences, other people, and their place in this universe.

We can all conjure up a chemistry that is unlike others, hence coffee in the morning.

Oh, yeah, give me a cup of coffee and I will talk for two days while swinging from a chandelier.

People want a "pick me up" and don't realize it's right there in your brain, pick it up. You don't have to drink it, eat it or smoke it, you just think it.

So, people go out to be on drugs possibly as they have not mastered or even begun to see what they are made of.

Alcohol, the nemesis of the bi-polar, the pain killer, the legal substance killing so many, it's suicide. Suicide doesn't mean you kill yourself instantly, it means you kill yourself and your spirit little by little until the parts waste away and death is your savior.

Well, I'm here again to tell you that I have experienced death and chose to return. Why?

First, I was grateful for the experience, but it wasn't what you think it might be. No, there was no angles or demons or bright lights, and Jesus, Buddha, Allah were all missing, there was only one word there spoken, and that word, was "death" with a question mark on the end.

It's really not all that exciting it's more of a release back to the security we all seek here on earth but can't have and the security we want to slough off when we get there. I knew if I died I would be bored.

Yes, death is boring, life is what we seek. But with balance we seek both and at times which seem to be on our own clock.

And our destiny, what is that about? I have begun to realize that I have experienced many types of people and situations in my life, and maybe they all have had a reason.

I sure hope so as I have been wondering lately if my time is not nearing, if I have learned all I came to learn, or if it's death in the figurative sense that I'm ready to make great changes in my thinking which will spill out in my actions and ability to relate to the world.

Many times I feel isolated as I do it to myself when I can't understand the ridiculous world people want to live in and like. We have been always under the guidance of this universe, we are part of the stardust that made everything including the things you and I may not like.

Judging the world is also a hiding place as we are not good or bad, we are both, and they are merely judgments. Good things happen that seem good but decay. Bad things grow up and around, but have a meaning too.

I happen to believe in God and that is what keeps me going as I struggle through so many challenges I feel overwhelmed much of the time. But I can't complain as I pray for these lessons, I think I may need to pray for "kinder and gentler" lessons.

But then again...I may enjoy this kind of life where I believe with certainty that everything happens for a reason and it is within each of these tiny events a rope dangling from the universe to grab onto.

After this last month, I just didn't quite get it together after I slammed my car door on my face. Yes, I know, it's ridiculous. Then I've now had oral surgery and my first tooth removed in my life, but lingering pain occurs, and another tooth has been harmed.

Why me? Because I deserve bad things or that I hit some ice in the road or I'm somehow a bad person. Probably not, those are judgmental ideas which don't create any sort of productive outcome.

"I think therefore I am," means more to me than probably the philosopher Descartes who is attributed with that famous quote.

My mind clears and it fogs over where I can hardly see. Depends on my thinking.

What is thinking and how do you do it? That is something nobody wants to admit, but what you think is a form of energy which can be used for many different things and take on many different tones or colors. It can also manifest in other ways such as illness or what I call physical pockets of lies we accepted and continue to hold onto.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about my own cognitive process which leads to the creation of many different types of actions and reactions.

When I react it's more unconscious than anything else. I want to improve and be more active than reactive.

And the kinds of actions I engage in have changed and I do want that.

But there is much to discuss and maybe time to do it. Today is your day, whoever, and whatever you label yourself as. If things happen you did not want to face, than it's time to face it. Why let things overwhelm you?

Everyone of us is here on this planet, this dirt and water balloon, hanging in space, and we each have choices.

Choices are like money, how do you want to spend it? Do you choose to stay happy as often as not? Or are your thoughts more trying to avoid a possible danger and cling to security?

You will have your security back the day you die. (And by the way your credit is cleared too)

But right now I'm going through a stretch which I could not begin to explain except that I prayed for healing for my health or more so not asking, doing. Now my body is doing some very strange things and I am talking to my body directly as to what it needs and wants to heal.

I've accepted this will be the time in my life where I clear out much Karma, or as I interpret it, things that have lingered too long in my life, fears and falsehoods I've accepted about life.

Next up: someone asked me about my "fighting" life and I know that it is something I must address to carry on. It's been a long life and I'm fighting against something I fought as a child: the twisted people who had me carrying around their lies and cruelty for far too long.

And this experience made me a lie detector too, which isn't always pleasant to know you are being told things that are not exactly real or true, but solely for the benefit of people who don't want or can't face themselves.

I've made a decision to face forward myself. Meaning I want to know what it is that drives me and no longer fear what I am. It's not an easy process and it is one I must do on my own as there are few who can even begin to understand my intentions.

And the energy I can conjure is something of a storm, so I try to keep it away from people who cannot understand or will be hurt even if that is not my intent.

I've lied to myself too, and that is where I begin my search for the core issues which drive me and my life. I've got conflict written all over me and negativity coming at me like missiles. I have people refusing to believe; people who have no hope; and those who are attacking me for reasons they don't even know.

Having experienced this before, in my childhood, I realize this current situation relates directly to the beginning, "my big bang" when this personality was born. And it's time to rebuild the foundation whatever the outcome.

Painful decisions have been made to remove certain people from my life as I go through it, and I only want them to know I do it for them, not me. I know I've told many of you to stay away from me for now, but it's for your own good. I have many deep seated, wounds that must be dealt with now or they never will be done again in this setting called my current life.

We will talk again...have a sunny day and remember you still have to deal with the darkness too, it's part of the cycle...of life. And it's not just us bi-polars.

The Spiritual Warrior against fighting...

I used to think that the only way to live and be strong was to fight. Sometimes it didn't matter what i fought for or against, it was a way to live. Or was it?

Things have changed dramatically for me, mostly because I inisist that they do.

Somehow I need to know who and why I am, and it doesn't go away. It's been there all my life. I went to every church looking for God or something God like, and what I kept finding was dissappointment. I needed information about who I am and where I am supposed to be going.

God seemed like the first place to look. Then it was people, I was always interested in the way people think and why they do what they do. But I seemed to gain nothing but a sad underlying world.

People were never happy with themselves and even more so they were less happy with those who might think it's okay to just be okay. I was like that, okay to do what I felt like doing.

But then the this personal happiness was challenged regularly with the help of those around me. It seemed I was not allowed to be happy and accept things for what they are and were.

I carried my childhood around like an anchor for years. I dragged it everywhere, telling the story over and over in my head, in writing, drunk on the front lawn.

Then came the time I had to tell the truth to myself, that it no longer mattered what had happened. The thought itself seemed to diminish me but it was true. It helped me become sick. I know that illness doesn't come from bacteria and viruses, recently anyway.

What I didn't realize was that it was okay to be me all along and that is was also okay to have been fooled into thinking of myself as less important than anything else on this planet or off it. It was a lesson learned. A tough lesson fought as I decided to say what I felt no matter how it was interpretted.

But no, I never had the incling to be "right." It was not about being right, it was about the level of wrongness, the things that could be changed if one were to set a course in that direction.

I've tried to do that, it doesn't always work, but I have more soul to me than I ever have. I see the levels of thinking, the trust I had wanted to have in others is actually in me, and that is where I got side tracked.

I started fighting.

I would say if I took a guess that the person I have the most problems dealing with is me. It's not about what others do, that can be solved generally with some focus on that outcome. But it is about what I do. And that is why I'm here on this planet with the rest of you.

You can't dodge it anymore than I can. Today I feel like I don't have all the much time in this particular drama left, and there are a few things I would like to do before that happens.

One is to forgive myself completely for not being what somebody talked me into thinking is a perfect life. I didn't and don't really think I ever wanted a standard life. I can let go of the things which are bad for me and hang on to the wisdom of the universe.

I may never fight again, or I may tear up the land with my claws, it doesn't matter, either way I will have to forgive myself, and let things that don't work go, and hold tightly to the map and compass which have been made for me.

It's again time for a change, as I've shared with some of you, I no longer want to live the life I've been living. I saw the core, the problem, and it's in me. It's a painful world, hard and tough for many, and it's easy going for others. Oddly, those two examples, the painful world, could be a Senator on Capitol Hill who only wanted to help, but had to see that he couldn't. Others who take the easy route, they avoid risks, confrontation, trouble, believing hot means hurt.

What do I want now?

Either my dollar bill back out of the machine or some candy...

Thus ends the bipolar American, but the end is always a beginning.

Are you a victim? Really, I'm asking, are you a victim?

I suppose I would call myself a free thinker in that I am not afraid to think for myself and accept that there will be people highly fearful that I do that.

Some people need to feel validated by other people agreeing with them. It's about as important as milk to an infant.

When we come to this website, we are willing to label ourselves bi-polar. But that label is for simple ease of communication like calling your dog, rover instead of small, short legged, curr. It is not to diminish, limit, or separate ourselves from the rest of the world. It could be bi-polar or even pie-bowler, who cares, it's just a name.

I've seen so many outstanding people who are bi-polar, incredibly intelligent, compassionate, and creative. It's exciting to listen to the hum which is the motor of their minds.

These people are my heroes. They are willing to be who they are and not only that but to cut through the phoniness which is the thicket the rest of society hides behind.

And I am my own hero.

None of us is sick, we are not adjusted completely to our systems which run different from that of others. We have in common a need to express our emotions directly. Not an attack, but an expression.

No victims, that is where I see a need to start with many of the teenagers and young adults I have met.

Being a victim is a hiding place that grows nothing more than solitude.
Hey, I've nothing against solitude and enjoy it quite a lot, but there is the balance issue again.

We are heroes, the unlikely heroes, who have been given a gift to think for ourselves. It is a tough place as we are constantly being questioned as to our motives, our thinking, we tend to get the average person talking about how we over think. Yes, it's God's balancing those who under think.

But this is the lesson for the week: you are not a victim unless you put your energy towards being one, believing in one, and thus often times you build it and it will come.

Well why do only the things I don't want to happen, always happen? I get asked that alot from teenagers who are in the most horribly insecure portion of their lives and cannot stop thinking about how "bad" things are and more is going to happen.

And then it does happen. It was psychic; no it was the devil; no it was my bad childhood. It was the scary movie I watched.

It all boils down to thinking you have no control and you are a victim. You can believe nothing happens that is supposed to happen. There are victims everywhere and they want to talk and discuss this chronic condition, victimitis, over and over.

The torment and torture, that the victim cannot change anything itself. Nothing good will happen and if it does, it means something worse than that will happen.

Where do we get these ideas? It's certainly not just bipolars. It's a widespread social problem which incorporates, psychology, medicine, pharmacology, and finally dodging responsibility.

We, and I mean the kids and friends and family who have come together over a particularly meaningful period of time in my life, where I had to decide whether to challenge what I thought was horribly wrong or simply move on.

Most who know me now and have known me in the past, could tell you that this may take years to resolve, because I believe if something is worth fighting for, then it's worth waiting to get it done right.

Each of us is worth fighting for, we must fight for ourselves. We must learn that life isn't sweet and mild, people are cruel and self serving whether we have been nice to them or not.

Inner confidence doesn't have to come from karate, meditation, high SAT scores, it comes from knowing that you're doing the best you can and you continue even when you fall, you get back up.

As I've said, we will produce many creative projects out of our bi-polar talent pool on these sites and on film. It will help us all feel included in the world which is what we all want anyway: is to feel loved and appreciated. And you thought you'd have to take physics to understand what turns out to be a simple answer to what really drives us.

But the twist there is that we have to "love ourselves and appreciate ourselves." It is an incredible answer to life's quiz show.

You can't lose when you know you are sharing in the creation. So, what you didn't come out exactly like a perfect person, well, Mein Kamph to you. And black is beautiful. Most people don't see that there is beauty in everything and everywhere. They are blind, aesthetically.

(I like that aesthetic blindness, I think I'll use it again.)

We focus on what it is that we want, what it is that would generally best serve us, then that is the direction the car will go. Keep focusing on the cliff, and have a nice roll.

More on how being a victim is not the only way to live or think....

More to follow...

A new year in bi-polar: yet another way of thinking

I apologize that I haven't had much in the way of time to come over here to my favorite site and write to the "order of the bi-polar disorder" but I'm now here for a few moments and have quite a bit to say.

A new year, yes, whatever that means. But what a "new year" means to me is an example of a photo album of my life. You really don't want to open 1967 or 2007, as it was rather, umm, ugly.

But in a way of learning to be more than what I was, there was nothing like those two years.

I've never had a moment regretting the horror that was those times. And how they changed me, frightened me, to the point where I could not even live with myself.

Not just not living my path, but resisting the path, kicked up dirt in my own eyes and by the time I was forty, the environment had gone dark on me.

However, that changed, as I called out to the universe for help. It wasn't about praying it was about creating. The two are much the same, except one comes from fear and the latter is from the tools, the powers, we are endowed with by virtue of being part of the universe.

It's this foible that man stumbles upon every single day and that is: we are not powerful, we are victims of the cold and chaotic universe.

Nothing could be farther from the truth as you can only know by doing. But we are so powerful it frightens us and certainly scares those who believe that only "some" of us are like this. (no it couldn't be me or anyone I know)

It's an exclusive club of power. Not at all. What a terrible misconception which could lead to a less than productive and fulfilling life.

We learn what power is along the way and it's not what I personally thought it was. I had some lopsided notion that power was "wise" and "unapologetic" for it's uique talents.

These talents are not unique. They are open and come from everybody. You have heard of the collective unconscious which is the universe from which we all feed, evolve and grow.

I've prayed for my friends, always taking a moment away from me to allow the chance that my positive thoughts may have an effect in a good way in their lives.

And maybe they can use it like fuel, carefully made by their friend and co-creator.

We have work to do and the tools to use to get it done.

I've always felt that I was missing something, something important, that should be there for me daily. The Swiss army knife of life.

If I am in a situation that needs to be opened up, I pull out the bottle opener, pop, and we're on our way. Put back the tool and remember that it was useful, and could be put to wise use again sometime.

Then there are the moments where things have escalated, a bipolar moment, a spontaneous combustion, and again the tools are there. I reach in and pick out the most likely useful tool.

It looks like a nice saw blade could cut away at all the bulwark set up to keep out the truth.

The book called to me

I want to talk about the books, your books, my books, the one's that speak to us almost personally, perfectly.

For years, if it didn't sound pedantic and delivered in a way that is almost placating the reader, it didn't appeal to me. I wanted or thought I needed something in concrete: the immutable voice.

Yes, I read bibles, looking for something to sustain me, yet I found myself more and more frightened of the world.

In seeking this security I ended up finding the fear. In essence I don't need to seek security nor do I need to run from fear.

A trip out of the way and I had the book

I didn't want to drive I was tired and it wasn't what I was up for. But I did it, and found myself in a situation where I would have to wait.

Not wanting to do that, I opted to walk around Kernville for a while, as the wind blew winter cold on me and in all the cracks of my jacket. I slipped into the antique store to have a look around.

Everybody coming in and out talked about the cold, and each time they did, it reminded me I was luckily wearing my long underwear that day.

Then I looked into the corner, books pulled into stacks below the shelves, looks like they were sorting out some new arrivals.

Although I looked directly at the book several times it finally spoke to me. "hello." Well, it was the lady from the store, but she came over to notice I was staring at this book.

I opened the book quickly, but I already knew I was going to buy it.

The clerk seemed to know too.

Next we will discuss what happened once I began reading the book...and is still happening....

Awash in a sea of confusion...

I remember some dumb poems I used to write when I couldn't or wouldn't be able to express my emotions in a direct and honest manner.

I've changed that entirely as I now wish to express my emotions, when and where I like. Here on the bipolar American is even better. For my friends and fellow bipolar american's this growth period is for you.

What does it represent? What does the bipolar do that is significantly different than other people?

Damn good questions, but now for the answer: balance.

The polarity which is life, we've got a north pole and a south pole, making the world bi-polar.

Being ill has been the toughest experience for me of late. I'm sure it therefore contains the most information I need to carry on, so I have to face the situation with complete honesty like a surgeon's blade cutting through years of defense mechanisms, negative characterizations of myself, family luggage tossed my way to carry, and the force which holds it all together: fear.

I no longer believe that a doctor can help me with this illness, I think I'm the only one.

Right now there is so much energy around me that is from the past, that is depressing and negative, but then I realize that I called it out, and now must put it away and to rest.

I sure don't want to stay in this atmosphere I've created for very long, and I can't imagine how I intended to live through this.

For some reason I was thinking about an old friend of mine who used drugs since she was a pre-teen and now she's over 50 and still using drugs. I saw her last year as I stayed at the house, she still lives at home, her father is quite old and an old friend too.

But she refused to change anything, she apparently wanted and continues to want to be intoxicated at all times, on anything from alcohol to psychiatric medications. Yes, it's a serious lifetime of decay going on.

Yet, she's a really nice person, but could never love herself enough to get through all the shit.

I see it now with kids I know here who are really struggling. One particular kid attempted to get into the military and was refused because of the practice of "cutting."

Now, he's either going to believe that there is something wrong with him, and allow this experience to verify that supposition, or he's going to believe that there's something wrong with them, and point the finger their way.

Here comes balance once again, the teacher.

There is something he's not being honest with himself about, something causing great amounts of pain which bring him to a point of consciously inflicting pain and altering his body.

Likely he will internalize this as more evidence of his failures and his feelings of being different and misunderstood.

What can change this?

Learning from it. What could he possibly learn from being thrown out of the military for cutting.

He could begin to ask himself why he's cutting. Not judge cutting as right or wrong, like the military did. They don't cut, they kill.

He also could realize that he almost went somewhere that he could have been killed or worse maimed. He may have had to kill other people, and really, likely, as sensitive a nature as he actually has, that may have been worse than being hurt himself.

The basic element to all of this, is balance. Not having the balance to look at each situation individually. And judging is not necessarily the same as using good judgement, so he needs to begin to understand that just to get to the surface to take a deep breath of fresh air.

We can never do exactly the same thing twice. That is an illusion. Because you cannot put together the exact time and circumstances it stands to reason you cannot do the same thing twice.

So, every single thing you do, is unique and good for one ride only. You might want to make it good.

But there are those who are caught up in the illusion of repetition, we all have believed it at some point, as we learn the vitality of each moment, of the here and now.

I refuse to struggle against all this old energy that has been churned up on the storm waves of my life. I can see and feel it all there, depression, anger, hopelessness, swirling around me, yet there is no clear and present danger to account for the onslaught.

I've been watching it for a few days not knowing what it all meant. Then I refused to be a part of what needs to be naturally molted, sloughed off, so that a new shinier skin can appear.

So, I'm not interested in wrestling with it, talking about it, or judging it, I'm ready to let it go.

I think healing is the letting go process. And I believe now that this current storm is directly related to my "illness."

When I focus on what I want and not what I don't want, I usually get it. When I'm in fear of not having something I want, then the consequences are exactly what I asked for. I asked that the universe verify for me that I will not get what I want by having fear.

I feel more fear right now than I have in a long time. In fact, it's been overwhelming. That's what gave this all away to me, I'm in far too much fear for it to be totally created here in the present time, this comes from way back.

As I've changed my beliefs, it has altered my actions, and therefore my energy.

Faith is something I am beginning to understand in a way I may even be able to casually explain it. It's such a powerful system to live by that we don't even recognize it's simplicity.

I like the fact that many geniuses such as Albert Einstein, have recognized the obvious evidence of the creator. The role of a "creator" has often been criticized and argued by those confusing religion, a series of rituals and dogmas which we are to adhere to if we are to move on to a "better place," missing the whole point.

(really religion is a manifestation to deal with the fear of death or death of the ego, as in old age.)

We are all made of the same stuff, whether you're an earthworm or a government employee.

And we are here. This is your destination.

Knowing that every single thing that happens or has happened has been in your best interest, for us to learn to turn something unpleasant into something better is emotional alchemy. Learning not to turn everything into a negative is another handy tool for the life kit.

When I know that I am from the same creator as everyone else, I am compassionate.

When I know that everything that is happening to me will be to my benefit, I am safe to learn from my mistakes.

When I know in my heart that my life is my service to this whole world, to the whole source, than I know I am a co-creator in life and take that responsibility seriously.

When I change my energy and create a positive flow, a truth, whatever we want to call it, I am powerful.

When I realize I don't have to change the negative energy, that I only have to create the positive energy; it requires no ingredients at all, except to have the awareness to put it into action.

I got these words of wisdom sometime last year from a friend of mine, and it made a difference in how I would soon be looking at my world.
"Get in touch with joy. Any idiot can be happy cause their life is going well. A Superior person aspires to be happy in spite of their fucked life! That's how optimists think. Love you lots. Forgive yourself every day."

No truer words could be said. Create happiness, it doesn't happen, it's a state of mind.

And forgive yourself everyday. I didn't know what that meant for a while, since I am more masochistic and prefer to crucify myself everyday, so I had to ponder that whole idea.

"What? let me off the hook for being stupid, I don't think so."

Then it became a reality that some of my physical difficulties are manifesting from my own brutal treatment of myself. Which I should acknowledge was borrowed from those around me who "loved" me.

As I realize forgiving myself is as important as forgiving others. Treating other people with more compassion than yourself, is what?

Not in balance.

I'm in the middle of a shit storm, and moments from now I may again get caught in the layers of stripping paint. Just when you think you found the bare wood, you find that a lot of layers can be painted over the long years. Although you maybe tempted to paint over the peeling layers, it won't work. It will all just strip away. All your work gone.

When you do get to the bare wood, sand it, and look at it like it's the first time, you may decide not to paint it. You may like it and just finish it, blemishes and all.

I lived in Greensburg, Indiana for a few years, in an old Victorian home, two staircases, years of wallpapering and paint, and we didn't know what was underneath.

Our entry moulding, staircase and railings were covered in carpet and paint. One day I was doing what kids do, racing up and down the stairs, and I tore the carpet.

After a great big family argument about how irresponsible, immature, and so on, I was for doing this damage, we realized that there was some really nice old, solid oak.

So, we pulled all the carpet, removed paint of various colors and shades, and found a beautiful 100 plus, year old, staircase. We, I actually did most of the work, finished it and it turned out to be a showpiece really.

How many of us are hiding under years of paint and wallpaper? I know I have been, and make a sincere promise that is not what I am doing anymore.

There's been a shift, moving a large tectonic plate, the rumble has been felt and heard. Real change is associated with resistance from the other side, the side that is used to you being a certain way.

I've never acted in a vulnerable manner, which makes me wonder how strong I really am. I have changed that now, and I can feel the shift, the shaky ground, and it's scary.

But that's where faith balances that fear.

(Just to let you know, so you feel better today, it works this way whether you're labeled bipolar or not. It's life.)

I'll be riding my own creation of the bucking, stubborn mule that I am. I'm sure it will be fun and full of kicks in the teeth.

Bi-polar Chic

Just to warn you in case of animal sabotage, I am getting sleepy, very sleepy...

A good friend of mine whom I met during one of the many upheavals which mark my life, wrote to me recently and told me what I am doing on these blogs, the fight I have put on, was "bi-polar chic."

And what she meant by this is that we bipolars are scatter brains who have more ideas swarming through our minds, at all times of the night I might add, than has existed since time on earth. We are weird for sure.

Because of the tidal wave of information we have a tendency to drop something, a goal, a career even and move on rather quickly to something else more interesting.

That has not been the case with me of late, I've been rather, umm, let's try to say or see it, "focused."

My friend happens to be a hypnotherapist and also teaches meditation (sshh, quiet, somebody's trying not to think), which you can only imagine, my frenetic mind must be quite the entertainment or irritation, same difference.

She's been one of the people who have kept me anchored to tasks, though I have not completed my books the way she wanted me to, I still am on those projects as well. All in good time.

She's also wickedly funny, and intelligent, and has helped me through a lot of walls and issues, always with encouragement. And to have her call me bipolar chic, was too cool.

I've been thinking about her great loss this year, losing her brother, and the greif it brought on, I pray for her all the time, and she knows that I'm always here too. And I know she will come through it all with grace and more understanding...

I think I am more clear on a daily basis as to what and where I am going. I'm following the trail of bread crumbs God leaves everyday and I eagerly watch and listen for the signs on the road.

I've had an incredible learning experience over the last years, decades, oh, hell, all my life, but particularly so now.

I've used more patience, yes, this is my standard for patience, it may seem low to some of you, but I'm pushing a cannonn up a mountain, and plan on shooting it off. So, I can't expect to do this tomorrow.

But there are things that are important to me, I've clarified this murky purpose I've felt hovering around my mind, and now feel more in contact with the universe, and all it's peeples. I feel content knowing now what I want, and also the confidence in my own ability to persist and carry out the actions necessary to get there.

(starting to doze, it's nighty night time, let's see if I can finish)

Bipolar chic: I like it. Thank you.

Somebody needs to tell me it's okay to take a break...I fell asleep during the last post

I just signed on here to look at and possibly finish my post on labels, and I started laughing when I saw what had happened. I fell asleep, you can see where I start to lose it, misspelling, then suddenly there's a whole series of question marks.

Either me, the dogs or the cat, hit that button and scrolled out all the question marks, and then I actually woke back up to finish it. But I apparently was so groggy, I didn't notice the repeated symbols.

That is both funny and sad, as I think I need somebody to tell me it's okay to take a break. Yes, I want to finish my story about labels and I will, (I'm leaving the post the way it is, it's funny) but I need to be okay to relax.

I just don't relax anymore. I don't know how really. I push myself as far as I can go, until, I get a blog full of cat or dog typing.

(Maybe the dogs saw I fell asleep and attempted to write their own blog. Just a thought, a stupid one)

Today, I felt good, got some shots in my neck, and the first thing I wanted to do this morning, was lay down and relax. Not do anything.

It was nice, sitting in bed, tired, but having really low pain levels. I didn't want to ruin it by driving or doing anything.

Truth, I actually sent my 90 year old neighbor to the store and then later for dinner, take out. He needed the exercise and we are quite a pair of neighbors.

The first time I met him, Brad, the WWII veteran, and general good guy, I was stuck on my roof and couldn't get down.

What possessed me to attempt the roof was unbeknownst to me, but I did, then got stuck. With no balance system getting back down the latter was tough.

I yelled for Brad, "help, umm, I'm stuck on my roof."

Finally, the elderly SOB heard me and came out and helped me off the roof.

He's been a great neighbor, I'm lucky, and at 90 he's doing pretty well. But he did have a stroke a couple years ago, and has had some health problems since then.

I watch for him, he watches for me, knows what time I get home if I leave, and knows when I'm back.

One day, I called him and he said he had fallen, and I could hear a slight slur to his voice, so I went over to check. He was disoriented and had a rug burn on his head from falling out of his chair. He has an electric chair, I don't know if it ejected him or what, but he slid in face first.

He wouldn't go to the hospital the stubborn old man he is, so the stubborn mule I am, called an ambulance.

We checked his blood pressure and off he went. When I got to the hospital 20 minutes later, I asked how he was doing, they said fine. I said, what do you mean fine, he's having a stroke, how's his blood pressure? She said fine.

I went in and indeed on the monitor, blinking away, was normal blood pressure. I asked what they had given him and she said, nothing.

Then the doctor came along and I grabbed him and told him he needed to recheck the pressure, as both the paramedics and Brad's home blood pressure test read him as high.

The doctor then said something about giving him different channel blockers, calcium blockers, and a whole show off list of medications. I stopped him to tell him Brad had been given nothing.

He yelled for a nurse and they used a new cuff and indeed, he had high blood pressure, so they began treating his stroke.

Long story, but it goes to show you how a small, strange incident can occur to change everything. What would have happened if I didn't go in there and check?

Well, one thing might be that Brad would not have been available today to shop and get Mexican take out for me, and I would have been hungry.

Somebody, stop me, and tell me to relax. I won't, but it's a thought...I'll just fall asleep writing.
Hey, readers, didn't you think that was weird, the scrolling thing? You should have told me my fly was down and there was spinach in my front teeth. Thanks.

More on labels, but the issue is being addressed in the blog: The jewel of the district, over at KVHD under fire.

Label makers

My sister said to me the other day, "I'm agorophobic," which means you are usual afraid of leaving your home, but it's translated as afraid of wide open spaces.

Anyway, I said what does that even mean, you're agorophobic? It's a label for something underlying. And then you are categorized as a mental health problem. Then you talk to doctors who want to give you drugs for it. Then the regular doctors have records of your "problem" contained only in a label, and base your treatment on this all inclusive title you now have. You tell your friends and family that you are agorophobic and they begin to treat you differently. They are worried, they want to intervene, they won't tell you the truth to avoid an argument. Then on some level you internalize this label and you deem it positive or negative. The symptoms are negative, but it gives you a way out from dealing with the underlying issues.

What did my sister really mean to say when she labeled herself? I think it was something difficult to cope with. It was changing jobs in a tough economy, a sick relationship, a pop on the head from the kids, the anniversary of her father's death, and on.

That's what she meant.

Those labels we hide behind them. The bi-polar label is a complex matter for me. I guess I accept all the connotations which go with it for the sake of helping others understand their chemical differences.

I'm emotionally and chemically different, and I refuse to say that it is not both good and tough at the same time.

Labels and judgments

People make judgments based on labels, and we are covered in labels, take a look at yourself. What labels have you internalized?

Are you an intellectual, stupid, average, happy, nice, mean, ugly, beautiful, old, young, strong, weak, cowardly, courageous, or one of many labels you have on you.

What does it mean to have all these labels

People think of you in terms of your lables. You are, say, a female, mother, overweight, white skinned, and you will be treated based on these first impressions.

Labels speak and portray certain things without any facts to stand pebehind them. I've recently dealt with such a person. I should call her no facts, that should her label.

But there is also the fact that we give labels to others: "she's an alcoholic," "he's a workaholic," she's a difficult woman and or "bitch" or he's a real "bastard."

I've entered situations where I've been given the "rundown" on people with a bunch of label making. The boss is fair up to a point, where he isn't really fair. He's a slave driver, a monarch, or whatever pejorative terms to come up with.

Now, I go meet this person with this impression in my head. Sometimes people don't question the label, knowing that if tlfey do, they dontinued and 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