Category Archives: Mental Health Just Talking

Are You An Empath, Psychic, or Just Crazy?

As a child I preferred to sit with the adults, watching their body language and listening to what they said. My mom comes from a large, loud, Irish family that more often than not didn’t tell the truth. When they did it was usually to my mom. I picked up early on when a person was lying or being evasive. I could spot people who were a little “different” right away. Some would ask why did I keep the company I kept if I could do this. The answer to that is I thought I deserved what I got from them. I knew who and what they were as soon as I met them but had no self esteem or confidence. I thought very little of myself and didn’t care what happened to me.


The qualities of empaths are similar to those of a bipolar person or at least to me. Some say empaths are more of a mystical thing not a scientific one. I’m not sure about that.

People often confide in me even people I’ve just met. I’m deeply affected by the emotions of those around me. I put other’s needs and happiness first. I always support the outcasts and underdogs. I have a deep love of animals and feel more comfortable with them than people. I become overwhelmed in crowds of people and then feel anxious, irritable, and impatient (unless I drank). I’m somewhat creative and feel tragedy/loss deeply and for a longer time than most. I can easily read people whether it’s by their writing, eyes, mannerisms, there’s always a tell. I’m often yelled at because I “know” things but can’t explain how and people think I found out in a malicious way. I’ve also proven this to be false many times.

These traits describe many people. I do feel everything 100 times more than most people. That is the most difficult part because I wish I didn’t. Alcohol helped with that. I don’t grieve like everyone else does. I still have days where I cry uncontrollably over my dog GiGi who was hit by car at the end of our driveway. I think I can still see her white fur gently moving in the breeze as she lay there so still. The same when her brother died years later from a heart condition. His death was not a pretty one. Even though she was hit by a car there was no visible injury to her. Her brother was different and I’m the one who found him when I woke up in a puddle of blood. My dad was at dialysis so I lost control of my emotions. I still see my Mom as I ran into her hospital room. Nurses laughing, drinking coffee, one man doing chest compressions, bloody foam running down her chin, a howling sound that I’m not sure if it’s me or my Dad who’s on his knees. I’m the lucky one in the family who gets to witness the death of everyone or everything I love. I get to remember and feel all of it continuously.

It’s something my twin sister won’t have to go through. I’ll be the one to deal with my Dad too when the time comes. The worst part is my sister distancing herself from me when I’m the one taking the blows to protect her and my nephews. She would never see it that way. All of the grief and pain has shaped me into who I am today. I have kept things from her because I know it would hurt her and when she holds a grudge it isn’t pretty. She already hasn’t talked to our Dad since Christmas and I’m not sure why. I refuse to give her anymore reasons to stay away from us and only consider her husbands family as her real family. I have to say this hurts more than I thought it ever would.

Sometimes I think watching all those movies was a bad thing. I always had an idea of how life was supposed to be, how sisters were supposed to be, none of it worked out that way.

“You Do Realize You’ve Always Been Different Right?”

One of my earliest memories is a Birthday Party for my twin sister and I. At the time you could have your Birthday Party at McDonald’s. I believe were around 9/10 years old.

At one point in the party I was outside. I remember standing outside the glass doors watching everyone laugh and fun with such ease. My twin seemed to be able to do this with no effort. I stood there watching for a long time. I thought “why can’t I be like them?”, “I want to go home”, “I can’t do this it’s too hard”. Even at that age I felt uncomfortable around people. I always felt like I was on the other side of that glass door watching other people live normal lives.

This feeling has never gone away. Not in 44 years. I just deal with it better now by pretending or isolating myself.

My mom was extremely close to one of her sister’s my Auntie Lee. I love my Auntie Lee. She does remind me a lot of my mom. It’s selfish but it’s one of the reasons I love to spend time with her. She is also the one other person who has accepted completely for who I am. Although like my mother she has no mental/verbal filter. lol

I  talked to her the other day and told her I’ve been having a hard time lately. I also mentioned that I’m having trouble making the smallest decisions like what underwear put on! She laughed at that one. (Her laugh makes me happy and breaks my heart at the same time. It’s exactly like my mom’s.) She did say to me “Honey, you’ve always been that way. I think you’re just now noticing it. You’ve always been different. You were always more sensitive then the other kids, you would rather be around the adults or by yourself, you didn’t talk much you just soaked up what everyone else said and did. You were always observant, way more than kids your age. But you were so quiet it was painful to watch”.

In a way I was relieved that someone had noticed something. I was also sad that some people could see those things in me and not do anything about it. It’s hard to explain to my Dad or my sister that I’ve had symptoms from an early age. It’s hard for them to understand how much I’ve been through. I don’t want pity, I just don’t want what I’ve been through to be dismissed. Years and years of suffering I can’t even describe. And now medications do not work.

When I was younger Manic Episodes were great. Tons of energy, babbling, spending sprees, getting dressed up and going out, taking off to wherever I wanted, my own version of a Rockstar  life. As I got older my Manic Episodes started to change. Specifically when I started to go through Menopause early. Now Manic meant irritability, anger and resentment. A feeling of being trapped in a cage. My Depressive Episodes started to last longer.

Bipolar Depression I suppose is different for everyone. I know I wouldn’t wish mine on my worse enemy. (Okay maybe I would) It’s the giant aching hole in my chest that’s filled with loss, grief, worthlessness, self loathing, guilt, shame, and just overwhelming sadness. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel. My brain plays memories of events I would rather not go over again constantly. Thoughts race around in my head about things I had no control over but somehow blame myself for anyway. And I keep asking why my twin sister doesn’t love me as much as I love her.

That is a big issue with me. When she told me she hosting Pre Party for Women’s March then going with a group of women I was happy for her. But she never once asked if I wanted to go. The march was focused on the Affordable Care Act and defunding Planned Parenthood. My sister brought up her “harassment” when she used to get her birth control pills from Planned Parenthood. The more she talked and the more I realized I wasn’t going to be invited, the angrier I became.

I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to ask her if she’s ever been called a “baby killer” at a party for everyone to hear. If she ever walked into an apartment for a party and saw hundreds of photocopied pictures of dead fetuses taped to the walls. The apartment owner thought it would be punishment because he had just become a Born Again Christian. I will remind you that this is the same person who sold drugs, slept with underage girls, and beat me to the point of unconsciousness. There were about 30 people already there. Instead of leaving like a normal person would do I sat down without any expression on my face and drank a pint of Firewater and about 16 beers. I wanted to ask her if she’s ever been called a “baby killer” and spit on by her best friend’s boyfriend. I accidentally punched him in the face. But it was pointless. I keep expecting people to understand things they are not capable of.

I go to the Psychiatrist on February 7th and I’m scared. Nothing has been working for a long time now. Only the fast acting medications like Adderall and Klonopin work. Everything else doesn’t. I’m tired of being an experiment. There has to be a better way. I’m getting worse. I leave the house once a month. I don’t want to do anything or go anywhere. I have no interest in anything. Something has to give.

I Once Was Lost

It’s been a long time since I’ve made jewelry. Because my kidneys were failing and I didn’t know it, my eyesight was blurry. I had to stop making jewelry because I kept hurting myself. lol

Now it’s a different problem named Dutch. He loves to play fetch. He will play for hours. If I refuse to play he will get the rubber bone on the top of his snout and flip it at my face! He’s a smart dog. Too smart. But I’ve managed to work around him.

Here are just a few samples of jewelry I’ve done in the last three days. As I’ve said before I only use Swarovski Crystals. Other materials are Sea Glass, Czech Crystal, Swarovski Pearls, Abalone Shell (hand made and polished), and the bubble piece at the bottom of the necklace has a tiny shell, starfish and sea glass inside. (I didn’t make that) Everything else is designed by me and hand looped and linked. I enjoy doing this. It takes me to different place where I don’t have to think or worry, a place my mom taught me about.

Rough Patch

One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small. And the ones that Mother gives you, don’t do anything at all.

I’m in the middle of a rough patch. I’m not sure what to do. If I go in to a Hospital it won’t help and I’ll have a big bill. I will sit there for 72 hours while several different people ask me how I’m feeling, give me my medications, and give me Benadryl to sleep. I will see a Doctor maybe 1 time. He’ll repeat the question of how I’m feeling and never be seen again. They will tell me to follow up with my usual Doctor. 55cb1709e5e84e324ac12388cd821b8f

I really just want to move to Florida. At least when I was down there my Aunt called me on her lunch break and when she got out of work. She made sure I was ok and didn’t feel lonely. When I had to stay with her for a few days she seemed happier with me there. She’s like my mom. My mom was happiest when she felt useful. When her children were grown and my dad was obsessed with his hobbies is when she started to deteriorate. My Aunt’s children hadn’t called her the entire time I was there. When her daughter stopped by the day before I was to leave my Aunt asked why she hadn’t heard from her. My cousin said she figured because I was there they didn’t need to call her.

I have to say I was a little pissed at that. My Aunt’s children and my Aunt’s siblings that live in Florida have no problem calling her when they when want something. She isn’t a young woman. She’s 69 years old and has had Gastric Bypass. There were complications with Gastric Bypass and over the years she’s had to have a few surgeries and has gained some of the weight back. She’s still one of the most active people I know. She shouldn’t be doing most of the things they ask of her.

She has cleaned out entire apartments, painted the walls, decorated, put up wallpaper, and shelving. She has pulled out old mildewed carpeting and ripped up floors. Some of these things are just outrageous. I personally don’t think any 69 year old person who has been working all of their lives should have to continue working a full time job just to make ends meet. She has raised a family, made sure she kept a perfect home for a husband that didn’t appreciate her, and took care of his ill mother. On top of that working herself.

I watch my father struggle to pay property taxes and other bills. I pay the cable, phone, Internet, and Electric. I also put money in towards the water bill. It’s high because of the 300 birds outside. They have their own water system and have to be watered at least twice a day in the winter and three times a day in the summer. They also have their own electricity which includes heat lamps so I’m paying for that. My siblings think I have it easy living at home. If they knew what my father would be spending on the birds outside if I wasn’t paying they would have a fit. I also buy toilet paper, paper towels, and all cleaning products. It isn’t easy. I haven’t kept receipts because it’s my dad and I live there too. I just have a feeling that all of this might be questioned in the future.

These are also some of the reasons I have not taken the steps to move out. Besides the fact that I’m chickenshit and I don’t want to be alone. I’m kind of alone now anyway. I’m also being startled and yelled at when he does realize I’m here. I can’t win. It’s all so confusing. I have no one to talk to that won’t immediately ask about my medications or tell me I need a better Therapist or a different kind of Therapy. I don’t want to bother my Aunt.

Sometimes I talk myself into believing I’ve misread an entire situation or conversation. That I was never right to begin with. I’m starting to do that with my Florida vacation and my Aunt. I start to think that I probably did annoy her and I was a nuisance. I start to think she was only being polite and doing it for my mom. I start to think she couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I tried to talk less this trip. There were “jokes” made about the amount of talking I did the last time I was there. It was a few months after I had ECT and they had overshot their mark sending me into a manic phase that lasted quite a long time.

This trip I made sure if I was going to be in a group of the same people as the last time I would take half a Klonopin so I wouldn’t talk as much. I thought it kind of worked. But what do I know? I doubt everything these days. Love, trust, hope, existence. I wish I felt like I did after the one round of ECT. As bad as it was I felt confident, invincible and almost happy. It lasted almost 8 months. That is the longest I’ve ever felt anything close to happy in my entire life.

I even drove to a zoo that was 3 hours from my house. I had to go over a huge bridge which I’m not fond of at all. I was going because this zoo had a special breeding program for endangered wolves. They had built a special environment that mimicked the wolf’s in it’s natural habitat. It was beautiful. When I first got to the zoo it was a little crowded but for once I didn’t feel nervous. I was there for a purpose. I was a little disappointed when I arrived at the Wolf exhibit. There was a loud family of five there and the wolves were up on the rocks. There was no way they were coming down with all the noise and loud colors. Not to mention the strong perfume of the mom. I waited and waited. An hour went by before they left. I was so happy when they did I though my heart would burst.

I walked up to the fence as close as I could get but as far from where the family had stood. I stood with my shoulders slumped, eyes looking at the ground, head bowed. I was quiet as I could be. One by one they came off the rock. The Black one who was the Pack leader’s right hand man came up to the fence first. The rest followed on his signal. They all circled in front of me then sat down in the leaves. I cried tears of happiness, grief, and tears of everything I had lost and everything I would never have. In the end it was still one of the happiest moments of my life.


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