Category Archives: Bipolar and Addiction

My Consequences of Today



I am afraid that I have permanently damaged my relationship with my twin sister today. I feel crushed, humiliated, miserable and such pain in my heart.

I’ve been ill with kidney problems and on top of that I got a head cold turning itself into Bronchitis. I’m miserable to say the least. No medications are working. There isn’t much I can take for cold medications. My ears hurt, my face hurts because my sinuses are so swollen and I have a cyst on each side. When the tissue swells it puts pressure on the cysts causing the mother of all sinus headaches. The puppy is keeping me awake all night and the Pomeranian started having seizures last night. If it was up to me I would find another home for the puppy and the Pomeranian would be put to sleep peacefully. She is an older dog and has had these seizures for years. Every time she has one it effects her brain. It’s getting harder to watch. Because of my illnesses the puppy isn’t getting the attention and training he needs. I’m usually with him but too sick to do much.

I was so overwhelmed this morning with the puppy, being sick, the state of the house, my dad, that I called my sister crying. She offered to pick me up and bring me to her house where I could get some rest.

I got to sleep peacefully for a while. When I woke up it was because I had a bad dream. I went downstairs and her husband was on the couch. My sister and I started talking.

She said she was ready to call Social Services on my Dad and I because the house is a health hazard. My brother in law said it needed to be bulldozed. My sister said it was ruined by the dogs and birds and not worth anything anymore. She said it was probably the reason I was so sick.

My brother in law said that I needed to “hear some truths and own up to my part in things”. I needed to “take responsibility for what I failed to do”. He quoted some more stuff I’m pretty sure he learned in AA. When he kept saying I needed to “own it” something snapped. I saw red. I finally said “Just like you’ve owned up to everything in your ONE YEAR of sobriety! I’ve had 7, who the hell are you to tell me to own up to anything?” Then he told me to “Get the FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW! I MEAN IT! I DON’T CARE HOW SICK YOU ARE GET THE FUCK OUT!” So I said ” You’re nothing but a dry drunk. Don’t threaten me EVER! YOU THINK YOU’RE A BIG MAN? YOU’RE NOTHING!” At this point my sister is between us holding him back. I went and got my stuff from upstairs. When I came downstairs he kind of apologized by saying “I’m sorry I should know better and try to have more sympathy for people LIKE YOU” I said “Thanks. Don’t do me any favors.” I left and started walking home in the rain.

In the last few days I’ve lost 10 pounds. I am now 5’6″ and 120 pounds. Not good. My sister lives 25 minutes away by car. I’m not sure how I thought I was walking home. So I had to call my dad. I told my sister I’m too toxic for her and her family. I don’t want to come between her and her husband. I feel so alone. They will never understand battling Bipolar. How much harder it is when your medications are not working the way they should. When a man comes at you and sets off flashbacks and the panic attack is so bad you think you’re having a heart attack. How Bipolar is worse when you do not get enough sleep. No one wants to hear any of it. They want to talk about cleaning house when I can barely stand up, my hair is falling out at a rapid pace, my arms are skeletal, I can’t open a bottle of pills. But sure let me scrub the entire house, set mouse traps, line the cupboards, disinfect everything, find a place for the puppy that my dad won’t give up, try to get him to get rid of his birds and take care of myself. Easy. No  problem.

I’ll miss my nephews the most. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. Until I get better everyone is better off without me for now.

Bipolar Hypersexuality Confusion



I still struggle with the phrasing used in describing Bipolar Disorder. I can’t wrap my brain around most of it. Sometimes I’m not sure if what I was doing was part of being Bipolar or part of being a Drunk with low self-esteem. Not many Doctors want to talk about the promiscuous part of Bipolar Disorder. Mine sucks his breath in through his teeth and knots his fingers together as he changes the subject.

I wasn’t diagnosed until about 6 years ago and drank for 20 years before that. I drank while on different antidepressants. I drank mostly every day for years. I slept with different men often. Sometimes it was because I was attracted to them, sometimes it was to prove I could, sometimes I don’t remember why or giving permission. Those times I shrugged off and thought it was my own fault for putting myself in that position. Alcohol appeared to bring out a lot of manic qualities in me. Alcohol acted more like cocaine to my brain until I hit a certain point. Then things got weird or ugly. It didn’t matter because I had to get up and do it again the next night. It wasn’t the alcohol, it was the feeling that I was going to miss something. I didn’t know what or who but SOMETHING. I would get a knot in my throat if I thought I wouldn’t be able to go to this one place I went to every night.

It was never a need to have sex with me. Sometimes it was a game. The people I drank with were always amazed at the guys I could get. We would go to a bar and they would pick out someone they thought was out of my league. They would challenge me to pick him up. I always hung out with older men who drank as much as I did. They thought it was funny. I thought I had to prove my worthiness. It’s pretty sad when you’re proving your worthiness to a group of men that have been in and out of prison and were either alcoholics or drug addicts but I thought I was on the same level as them. I was often compared to a man. I was always the first to leave without saying goodbye or caring. I learned early on not to care.

There were times where before I went out I wouldn’t shave my legs thinking this would stop me from sleeping with anyone. It didn’t.

Do I regret it all? Yes. I never learned how to make conversation that would lead to an actual date. So I’m 42 and have never been on a date. I have also never kissed anyone sober. I’ve never been intimate with anyone sober. I’ve been celibate for about 7 or 8 years. I just can’t be bothered and my medications leave me with no sex drive. Then my health started to fail so I continued to be alone. I promised myself that the next time I had sex it would be sober and with someone I cared about.

I don’t miss those days filled with shame and guilt. They were also filled with worry. Did I use protection? I could never remember. I’m lucky all my blood work has come back clean. I took a lot of chances.

This isn’t the life I expected. It is the one I have. I accept that. I deal with what comes my way the best I can. Is it always the right way? Probably not. But I don’t drink, I’m no longer promiscuous, and I can usually remember the night before. So it’s better.


Knowing Someone’s Story & KNOWING A Story



The Kidney Mystery continues! And so does the drama. Where is House when you need him? I have learned recently that I do not make a great patient when I am in pain and the manic side of me kick’s in. I’ll explain.

I had an ultrasound of my bladder and blood work that didn’t come back great. My Doctor sent me for a Nuclear Pyleograph test of me Kidney function and he received the results on Saturday. He called me from his home and told me to go to the Hospital ASAP to get both stents back in because my kidneys were beginning to fail again. His colleague would do it at another Hospital I’d never been to.

I wasn’t happy. My dad wasn’t home and I didn’t know when he would be. It took awhile to get in touch with my sister who was very concerned with the car situation because my nephews had birthday parties and boy scouts. It’s ok my life is draining away there’s nothing like a good 7 year olds birthday party. (Sorry) I’m still cranky.

We arrive at the Hospital and no one knows what the hell we are talking about. They have to call both Doctors and see what’s going on. At this point I haven’t eaten or drank anything all day. Guess what? Cafeteria is closed and they don’t have a Gift Shop. I finally get a room almost 3 hours later which I share with another woman. I have an IV in because they’re forcing fluids but I can’t eat or drink anything. The Doctor on call there was making them do unnecessary tests and I was even more annoyed. The man asked me what a Hematologist was. He was thinking it was a stomach Dr. and kept telling the staff I had kidney stones. I finally yelled at 2 nurses without meaning to. I had enough. I told them I had every scan and biopsy known to man and I didn’t have kidney stones. I do have some GALLSTONES if they were interested but that was it. After the stents go back in my Dr. is referring me to someone in Boston. This Dr. hates giving up but has exhausted all of his options. So the nurses talked about me for awhile and I could’ve cared less because I still wasn’t sleeping.

For some reason they allowed a family in the next room to stay and have an intervention for their elderly father. He wasn’t agreeing. It was going on 2:40 in the morning when I lost my shit. I stumble out to the nurses station, with pole in hand, a little doped up, to tell them whatever that family is trying to get that old man to do he ain’t doing it and could they please shut up because my back hurts and I have a head ache. I then told them I drank for 20 years I know what surrender sounds like and that isn’t it. I’ve been listening to them since 5:00 p.m. with no give. Just to be honest I was assuming that’s what they were doing for all I know he wouldn’t do Chemo or something. But then all of a sudden the door opens and 15 people come out of the room like clowns from a clown car, including the F*cking Father! They are all smiling and saying goodbye! It was a WTF! moment. I didn’t imagine it because my roommate commented on it the next day.

Anyway I did really well with the anesthesia this time. There was no crying! I was kind of talking too much and laughing at my own wittiness but I’ll take that over wanting to be put back under any day! They did really well. The Hospital itself was super clean and I liked the Dr. that did the operation.

My roommate had been there over a month. She had been in a coma. Her crack addicted husband had left her for someone else. She started drinking herself to death. She is also Bipolar. She hasn’t been diagnosed long and it didn’t take her long to put herself in a coma. My one regret is that I didn’t talk to her more.

What I did do is give her the name of my Dr. because he is one of the better ones in figuring out the medication part. I also gave her some sober options because she had mentioned having problems with meetings. And I gave her some online resources. She likes to bake and do puzzle type things so I gave her places to go for that. Occupying your mind is a big part of staying sober and with Bipolar. My sister kept trying to pull me away while I was doing this. I was having none of this. She likes to pretend I was never at that point in my life when I was lower. I didn’t have a coma to stop me from going lower. Sometimes I wish I had. I hope the woman I met can go forward, it’s harder when your not diagnosed until late and you’ve had so much happen. She has family. I hope it’s enough.

Me? I’ll be shipping off to Boston. (Sorry brother in law for stealing from the competitors) Wait it would be good to steal from them right? Scratch that stealing is bad any way you look at it and I never ever do it except a Snoopy eraser when I was 5 and my mom made me return it. Just a little manic.

If I Saw God



I was watching the video for Fear by Blue October and thinking. I should never think, it gets me into trouble.

What I was thinking was how at peace the singer looked, how wise he looked, almost God like.

Then I thought if there was a God I would want him to look like that. I would want him to look battle worn and wary but at peace with himself because he knows he did his best in this world.

I would want him to have the height and long arms to hug me with and hold me while I cried out all my pain and shame. The kind smile and the light in his eyes that says “It’s ok I’ve been there too, I know and you’ll get through this”.

The tattoos that tell his own story of sadness and joy, to show he was human once and truly understands. But mostly the arms wide open, with the sun behind him and the sound of the ocean, looking to give comfort. If I believed in God and saw him that is how I would want it to be. It just appeared so calming to me at the moment.

That’s putting a lot of pressure on Mr. Furstenfeld and I’m not saying he’s God just that he has a God like appearance in that video and seams at peace with himself. I think he’s worked hard for that. He goes from crushing anguish to sublime salvation. I’m envious and wish I could achieve the same. His music helps me and for that I thank him. I hope to see him one day at one of his more personal performances. lol I’ve been saying that for years now and my brother in law even called to get me into one of his Boston shows and I freaked myself out too much because I would have to go alone and it was at a café/bookstore and I wouldn’t know anyone. Ughhh!

I know I switch subjects often but this reminds me that my brother in law really isn’t that bad. He also gave me a stack of Buckcherry tickets because he knew I liked them and he got them as a promotion. He’s offered other things too. He does care about me, I would even say he loves me. How could he not? lol


Let Down

I must have been living in another dimension all these years. A dimension where my dad was the hero, where he saved me from the monsters under my bed. He did for awhile. I guess my dragons became too big to slay. After a time he stopped trying. I didn’t want to admit it. But he didn’t slay the dragon that beat me, he didn’t stand up to the hospital for my mom and he still doesn’t for me. He’s become someone that doesn’t want to rock the boat. I NEED an advocate for the times I literally can’t speak. For when my heart is breaking and my mind shuts down. I need a Colin Farrell in a Winter’s Tale. But it’s real life and none of that will happen.

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