Monthly Archives: March 2016

Please Share If You…….

I am an Alcoholic with Bipolar and Conversion Disorder. I have been sober over 7 years. I come from a long line of alcoholics and family members with mental health issues. My niece was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder around the age of 15. She was diagnosed before me. Her diagnosis actually helped me get my diagnosis. I have probably been Bipolar from the age of 12/13. At 17 I started drinking. My niece chose heroin to self medicate. She has been clean for 2 years or so. She may have had 1 slip up. My brother, her father, is an active alcoholic.

My brother and ex sister in law would fight often in front of the kids when they were little. It would get pretty bad. My ex sister in law chose to stay with my brother for far too many years. My mother would even beg her to leave for the kids. She refused. When my brother eventually left her it was too late. The kids had been subjected to way too much. The oldest, like I said is Bipolar and a heroin addict in remission. The middle daughter cuts herself and has been caught drinking frequently. The youngest is graduating top of his class from high school and does nothing wrong.

The thing I hate is getting ridiculous “memes” or quotes from my sister in law and other members of Social Media. The most recent one is “Share if you hate heroin!”. I’ve received others saying “Share if you hate Cancer!” or other diseases. The problem I have is if I don’t share does it mean I “love” heroin or Cancer? No of course not. I think it’s a pointless thing to do.

As far as hating an addiction goes I feel it isn’t the alcohol’s fault or the drug of choice’s fault. You make a choice to use these as a tool to cope with a deeper issue. When you blame what you are addicted to instead of trying to find out WHY you are addicted you probably will not do well in your sobriety.

My father is an exception. He loathes alcohol. He quit drinking over 30 years ago. He won’t go anywhere that has a lot of alcohol. Just the smell of it angers him. The problem with this is he never talked about his drinking. He never learned the correct way to deal with his anxiety and anger. Those feelings have ruled over him for years. I recently asked him if he wanted at least a few good years of having the anxiety gone at least. He said if it involved talking to a Doctor, than no. So I tried. It wasn’t the first time. I can’t force him and I can’t be his verbal punching bag either. I disengage when he gets in a mood.

I detest that no one takes responsibility for their actions. Those kids wouldn’t have suffered half as much as they did if my brother had divorced earlier. My own mother was willing to take her and the kids in to live with us. All we would hear is “But I love him!”. Ok then stop complaining and do the right thing for your children. Instead my sister in law spent most of their marriage dragging my mother into their fights and the rest of us. For years there were phone calls in the middle of the night because of the both of them. They were toxic together. I have a hard time cutting her any slack because of the kids. I know it isn’t the nicest thing to feel or do but it’s how I feel.


My father is on Prednisone for Temporal Arteritis. It’s an inflammatory disease that is diagnosed by bloodwork AND a Biopsy of the Temporal Artery. The Biopsy is the important part. Of course my father refuses to get a Biopsy and is going on the diagnosis made by the Emergency Room Doctor at a Hospital that has tried to kill him several times and had a huge hand in my mother’s death.

The Prednisone itself is a harsh medication. It makes it harder for you to fight infections, causes weight gain, brittle bones, diabetes, and changes in personality and mood. I no longer recognize my dad’s face or his personality. His face is so bloated his eyes look closed. He angers easily and has a problem controlling his temper. This is not the man I know and love. It is hard to watch him change.

He will not listen to me even though I live with him and I’ve always been the closest person to him besides my mom. If my sister came over and saw him and spoke to him about his health, for some reason he would listen. She’s too busy. She didn’t even talk to him on Easter. She feels that he knows how to work a phone too and should call her. She is an idiot with her head in the sand. It’s her favorite place to stay. That way she isn’t responsible for anything.

I have to go to a Hospital I’ve never been to tomorrow for testing before surgery. She can’t go with me because she is working the “book sale” at her kids school. My dad is going with me. I don’t want him to. He is sick and shouldn’t be around other people that are sick.

I really need him to come off the Prednisone. His Dr. at Dialysis says he needs to come off of it but gave him no suggestions or names of people to see. They have infiltrated his fistula 5 times now. I become more disgusted every time he comes home. I called there once because I was angry. My father was furious with me. He’s so filled with pride it’s going to kill him.

He has done nothing in regards to a Living Will or a regular Will. His state of affairs is a mess. Someone will have to deal with his 300 pigeons and his enormous antique clock collection. My sister believes she can just open the doors to the pigeon coops and they will fly away. She’s in for a big surprise. My sister and brother know nothing about antique clocks either. They do not know what is worthless and what is valuable. I imagine a yard sale with over 100 antique clocks all priced at $10.

I’ve stopped worrying about it. They can have it all. I would rather have my dad. My plan is to take off as soon as anything happens to my father. Let them deal with the mess I’ve been dealing with for years. I’ll live in my car if I have to. L.A. has a very nice homeless population in this one area I know of. There is a car wash across the street where most of them wash up. It doesn’t scare me anymore to think of that happening to me. I would be more afraid of being hospitalized against my wishes.

Back to the Prednisone. I need to find a way to get him weaned off of it. I may have to play nice with my sister and get her to talk to him.

In case I forget I watched a YouTube video of a young woman who had a Nephrostomy. This is where they have 2 tubes coming out of your back to drain your kidneys. This may be in store for me. I really, really, hope not. I’ll have to weigh quality of life against quantity at that point.

Pressure, Guilt, and Understanding

Putting pressure on me to do something is the surest way to get me NOT to do it. I hate guilt trips too. I wish family, society, the world, would try to understand what it takes for some of us to simply get out of bed.

My ex-sister in law called this morning to wish us a Happy Easter!!! She is the type of person who comes across as super happy even when she isn’t. She is a big believer in, if you think positive you can do anything. She has also found religion in the last few years. I am happy for her as long as she doesn’t pressure me into anything. I am basically an Atheist. I believe in the Sun, Moon, Sky, Earth, Water, Wildlife, and the beauty I can see in things everyday. When I recently reminded my ex-sister in law of this her response was ” You are not an Atheist. I don’t believe that!”. Ok don’t. It doesn’t change my mind.

She shares her religious sayings and positivity with me and others on Facebook. I scroll on by. She told my father that my nephew is graduating from high school and is the Valedictorian. She insisted that my dad and I had to go to his graduation.

She never seems to understand what a toll things like this take on my dad and I. My dad is 73 in June. He is on Dialysis three times a week. He’s had a quadruple bypass, an aortic aneurism, and now Temporal Arteritis. He is on extremely high doses of Prednisone that make him ill and uncomfortably bloated. I’ve had my kidneys fail twice in 6 months, stents put in that have to be changed on the 31st, an infection that is being treated with 1,000 mgs of an antibiotic a day. The antibiotic is making me sick. There are few days where I actually feel healthy. Yet she still insists. There’s also the fact that they cut my brother out of everything but still invite us. I don’t like it. Instead I send a gift or a card with money in it and make sure I talk to them personally to tell them I love them. They don’t care if I’m there or not. My nieces and nephew are more concerned with boyfriends, girlfriends, and friends. It’s their mother who can’t let go.

I’m tired of having to explain myself to anyone. I shouldn’t have to. This morning a clerk at the grocery store embarrassed my dad. He can’t hear well and the Prednisone makes his hands shake. He pushed the wrong button twice. She snapped at him and yanked the machine around and said “I’ll just do it!”. Some compassion please??? I told my dad that when I go to the store now I kind of let them know that I have problems listening or lifting heavy things. I don’t come out and say “Hey, I’m Bipolar and don’t feel well physically so could you treat me with respect?” I do say something like “Wow, I hate allergy season my ear always gets blocked!” and then I laugh. Most of the time this takes them out of their “I hate working with the public” mode long enough for them to have a slight understanding that their customers are human also. I worked with the public for over 18 years. I know how difficult it can be. I also know that it doesn’t give anyone the right to take out their frustrations on me or my loved ones. I really wanted to call the store on my dad’s behalf but I didn’t.

If you have loved ones in your family that are chronically ill don’t try to force them to do things they feel they can’t do or don’t want to do. My father still feels an enormous amount of survivor’s guilt. He feels bad enjoying family things when my mom is no longer here to do it with him. It depresses him to a point where he just isolates himself more. I know it’s frustrating to other people but think how you would feel losing your best friend and the love of your life. My mom would order for him in restaurants because he’s quiet and mumbles. Plus he’s had ringing in his ears since he was in the Navy. My mom was so loud and outgoing he was happy to let her take over when it came to social situations. Then one day he was thrown into the world without her. I can think of nothing sadder than that. I have to end this now because I’m crying. Happy Easter.



There have not been many movies lately that I’ve been dying to see. The Revenant was one of the ones I’ve been waiting for. I’ve thought of nothing else but this movie’s effect on me.

Disclaimer: The politically correct term Native Americans I intertwined with the movie’s term of “Indian” only to show the time period of the film.

Spoilers: This review/commentary contains spoilers. You can still enjoy the film they aren’t game changers.

The Revenant: Leonardo DiCaprio Tom Hardy

Rated: R


Leonardo DiCaprio plays Glass, a scout for a group of fur trappers and soldiers. With him he has his young son who is part Native American. Tom Hardy is Fitzgerald, a trapper not part of the group of soldiers in the hunting party. Fitzgerald is also someone who hates Indians due to his partial scalping years ago.

Glass and his son help the group find the best places for trapping and how to avoid attacks by the local Indians. In flashbacks we are shown the love Glass had for his Native American wife and the events that bring Glass and his son so close together. Their bond as father and son is deep.

During their expedition the group is attacked by a local tribe. With the help of Glass and his son a handful of the men are able to escape to safety. But because Glass’s son is half Native American and Glass lived with a tribe, a select few blame the attack on him. This causes internal strife amongst the soldiers and the trappers. They argue which direction to go in and who to follow. Making the situation worse Glass is savagely attacked by a bear protecting her cubs. Glass is now considered “dead weight” and the men want to leave him behind. His son wants to stay with him along with another loyal boy. The leader of the group offers extra money to whoever does stay behind. He won’t leave the two young boys to fend for themselves so they agree to give up their share of the money to anyone else who volunteers. Of course Fitzgerald offers his assistance.

Fitzgerald is told to only leave when and if Glass dies, to give him a proper burial, or he doesn’t get his money.

I’m trying not to give everything away but it’s hard. The story gives an astute insight on the subjects of grief, redemption, forgiveness, and the lengths one would go to in order to avenge a loved ones death/murder.

Glass’s character is so consumed by vengeance he doesn’t care about his own life. He will do and survive anything to reach his goal.

From the musical score to the breathtaking cinematography this film was perfection. There isn’t a lot of dialogue and there doesn’t need to be. Leonardo DiCaprio says it all with his face. Personally I think this is the best performance of his career.

Tom Hardy, who is no slouch himself, plays his part so well you hate him. Even a die hard fan like me was rooting against him. It was sometimes difficult to watch him portray a man so detestable. I didn’t even feel that way watching Bronson! It shows just how ingenious his work is.

The film is long but never feels like it’s dragging. I wanted it to continue. Unlike Spotlight where I felt every minute ticking by.

There is no doubt in my mind that The Revenant should have won Best Picture. I’ll have to settle for it’s wins in Best Actor, Directing, and Cinematography.

When I am still thinking about a film days later I know it made an impact. Sometimes award shows are to mired in the social and political aspects of a movie instead of going with how the movie made you think and feel. After watching The Revenant I thought of my own losses and grief. Would taking revenge really make me feel better? Is it worth the repercussions? Does it start a never ending cycle? I don’t believe too much in forgiveness given certain situations. I’ve always struggled with the concept. You have to be prepared to give up everything once you take that dark path. I’m not ready for that I still have so much to do.

One of those things is to watch The Revenant again.

A New Experience

I recently met with a new Urologist. This is my fifth. The primary Urologist I had was the type of doctor that saw two things when he looked me. Bipolar Disorder and my bladder (ureters). He never saw me as a whole person. No one has been able to find a cause for my kidney failure and as I would have my first consult with each new doctor they would end with “I don’t know what I could do for you”. To me this was unacceptable. The Nephrologist telling me I really only have one kidney and my choices were stents for the rest of my life or tubes coming out of my back. He thought it was good news.

The new Urologist was kind and compassionate. He explained in detail what the tubes coming out of my back would be like. They would hang down against the sides of my legs with little drainage bags at the end. I could never shower again and would have to do sponge baths only. The tubes are open to infection and get infected often. He told me he would try his hardest to make sure this wasn’t an option. He’s going to try a new kind of stent that the doctors I had been to previously didn’t have access to yet. He also said that there is a surgery similar to a kidney transplant but it involves your own kidney. He said this was a worse case scenario. He thinks that I will probably have to have stents the rest of my life. They aren’t so bad. The only downside to them is going under anesthesia every 3 to 4 months. It isn’t good to have that much anesthesia. The last 2 times my brain didn’t want to come out of the anesthesia. This is part of the Conversion Disorder. I can only hope it doesn’t happen again.

Right now I’m battling an infection and have to take 1,000 milligrams of an antibiotic for two weeks. I’m not feeling all that great. Plus my good computer is acting up and I have tried everything to fix it. The dog needs to be neutered ($180), I need an eye exam to get my contacts ($250), and I have a cavity. Oh! My car is acting weird too. I hate being stressed about money. I wish there was a way for me to do something to make money without interfering with Disability. I’m limited in what I can do. There isn’t much out there. I feel pretty good considering all of this. Mentally I have been doing better I just hope it lasts longer this time.


I can only relay what I have experienced with my diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder and Alcoholism. I can also tell you what I HAVE NOT experienced because of Bipolar Disorder and Alcoholism.

My health is a little up in the air right now. It’s reached the point where I think of the things I’ve never done. Things that I would like to before I can’t.

To be touched by a man that loves me without violence or alcohol.

I’ve never had that.

To be kissed by a sober man or even hold hands with one while I am also sober.

I’ve never done that.

To  travel by myself somewhere warm and just breathe.

To have happiness for longer than a week.

For people to see me as I really am. Or to be seen at all.

To be able to make friends easily to ease the loneliness.

These are not huge things but to me they are. I still work on them but feel time is running out. Some things I’ll have to accept won’t happen. That’s ok. As long as I am me and not pretending to be someone else.



I responded to a post about the A.A. organization. The person writing the post went over the regulations for A.A. The problem is it contradicted itself. The writer’s response to A.A. being a religious organization was that it might have been that particular meeting. If you didn’t like it you can “start your own meeting down the street”.

It was also pointed out that A.A. does not make medical or psychological diagnoses or prognoses. There’s no leader or religious affiliation. Then there was a list of what A.A. DOES DO.

A.A. has helped many people and I realize meetings are different across the country. The problem is the naivete that everyone will follow these dos and don’ts on their own without regulation. It just doesn’t happen.

In my State, and yes I went to many different meetings across my State, almost all meetings are held in a church or on church property. At the end of the meeting they say a prayer. I received many a dirty look for not holding hands and reciting along.

I was strongly encouraged to go off of my Depression medication because it was a “crutch” and my Anxiety wasn’t Anxiety it was probably my gallbladder.

When I first tried A.A. I was young and damaged. I have a hard time thinking I could have started my own meeting when I couldn’t even write my name.

So who makes sure A.A. does what it was set up to do and not what it isn’t suppose to do? Are you just suppose to go from meeting to meeting until you find one that fits? Most people attending meetings were getting rides from other people or walking due to D.U.I charges or financial situations. It’s absurd. It’s offensive for me to see someone write “If you don’t like the meeting you can go down the street and start your own”. It’s flippant.

Hard To Watch

I was watching a favorite Netflix show, Happy Valley, when a horrible feeling started in the pit of my stomach.

In the show the main character’s sis is a recovering alcoholic, 12 years sober. On the day of a friend’s funeral the older sister leaves her younger, vulnerable sister, alone at the funeral. She said she would be right back. She wasn’t. She leaves her sister there with mostly strangers for 5 hours.

When the older sister finally comes back you can imagine what she finds. A very drunk, irate, sister. Of course the sister doesn’t want to go home. She wants the night to last. Even as her sister begs her to stop on her hands and knees, she doesn’t. She goes to a dive bar she used to go to for years. The older sister follows and they argue for hours even while the younger sister continues to drink.

Watching all of this felt so familiar it made me uncomfortable. I started thinking of the past and when people in my family had begged ME to stop drinking. I didn’t.

I understood all too well why the younger sister drank. She felt out of place, she thought the other people there were better than her, she didn’t know how to talk to people in a fancy house at a wake. She felt invisible.

All of these feelings I’ve felt and thought I was fixing them by drinking. When I drank I didn’t care who the people were around me, I could find the courage to start a conversation, I was even cocky or arrogant at times.

As the alcohol left my system I would start to feel anxious and guilty. I would go crazy trying to remember who I pissed off or who I was too friendly with.

The only way to fix the shame and guilt was to drink again. A never ending cycle.

I did decide this last time that I was taking guilt and shame out of the equation. I wasn’t going to set myself up for failure before I even began. I put all of the what ifs out of my head. I decided if I slipped I wasn’t going to spend a week dry heaving with anxiety attacks and then decide it was too difficult and everyone was already disappointed so I might as well give up.

When I gave myself a break and took all that pressure off of myself I found it easier to stay sober. And I have for 7 years. I won’t bullshit you, the thought crosses my mind from time to time. The first few beautiful days of summer are the hardest.

But that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach reminds me of how I act when drunk. That alone stops me. Will it always stop me? I don’t know. I can only hope and continue to try.

Fight or Flight

I am at a point lately where all I want to do is take off. I don’t know where I just want to leave. I don’t have any fight left in me. I had a dream the other night that I died. There was no one to carry my casket. I was just left in a field. This bothers me.

The stress of dealing with my father’s illness and my own is becoming too much. I can tell by the way he talks that he wants to give up. He’s all I have and I love him more than anything. He isn’t the father I’ve always known anymore. They put him on Prednisone and he seems to be worse. He angers easily or just sits in his chair staring at the TV. He does things he isn’t suppose to be doing. He carried 6 fifty pound bags of grain down to the backyard. With his fistula he shouldn’t be doing it. I can’t stop him he only gets angry.

I’m going into depressive mode. I can feel it coming. I start thinking about the past and all the mistakes I’ve made, the people I’ve hurt. I think of what could’ve been. I always thought I would get married and have children. That ship has now sailed along with most of my dreams. I think of the men I have loved who didn’t love me. I constantly ask myself why I wasn’t good enough. It gets harder each day to smile and pretend everything is ok. It isn’t. No one returns my phone calls anymore. I can’t blame them. I’m either talking too much and annoying or quiet and depressed. I can’t win.

The Bad Thing About Good Days

I had a great day with my sister recently. We went and took pictures, went to lunch, talked, laughed and confided in each other. This is very rare for us. Most times my sister doesn’t answer her phone or call people back. This has caused problems lately because my Dad has been ill. It frustrates me to no end. She isn’t the type of person to call and invite me to anything either. I don’t know if she doesn’t want me around other people she knows or if it’s just her being distracted and thinking it’s no big deal.

I also was able to see my nephews and give them big hugs and kisses on the Playground. My sister said I was embarrassing them. She was laughing when she said it. The oldest said “It’s ok mom, Auntie D is cool.” My sister’s feathers were a little ruffled at that but she got over it.

The problem with days like these is you know they are going to end. You know somewhere in your future a Depression is slowly sneaking up on you. There isn’t anything you can do about it except wait. I hate this. I hate the feeling of extreme loneliness because no one else around me “gets” it. They yell at me for saying they don’t understand. They think they do. Unless you are in it you will never understand. You just won’t.

Recently I’ve been getting posts on Facebook from a site dealing with Bipolar Disorder and other “illnesses” people need support for. A guy recently made a movie or something that is popular regarding his “Recovery” from Bipolar Disorder and how beautiful Bipolar Disorder is. I have such a huge problem with stuff like this. One follower’s comment was how she doesn’t use Medications for her Bipolar but uses “Chakra” and acupuncture. She didn’t sound like the most stable person but who am I to judge. Quite a few fellow followers found Religion to be more helpful than Medication. This site advocates for all of this.

This walks a very thin line. Maybe some can get away with these solutions but they are in the minority. I think it’s harmful to the people willing to do anything for some relief from their illness.

Someone in my family “shares” these sites and articles with me on FB. I find it annoying and want to lash out. Instead I keep scrolling. I call that progress.

%d bloggers like this: