Tag Archives: Bipolar and Addiction

The Time I Thought I Loved

There came a time when I slowed down my partying ways and applied for a full time job at a Video Rental Store. It was one of the big chains. The stores I worked at were owned by a husband and wife. The wife and the “District Manager” handled the day to day problems of all 10 stores. He golfed.

I loved my job because I loved movies. I would work whenever they would let me. I moved pretty fast up the ladder. I was there a month when I met the Manager of one of their other stores. He was handsome, witty, and had greenish blue eyes. When he talked to you he made you feel like you were the only one in the room. I was sort of sober at the time, always sober at work, and not used to men being nice to me.

At first I stayed away from him. “Nice” was outside my comfort zone. But the next thing I know the bosses had made me Asst. Manager and him Manager of our own store. This meant I couldn’t avoid him. I would get butterflies in my stomach on the way to work. It was horrible. At first I  tried to be a bitch but I just got in trouble for it. So after that I was just my self.

I hadn’t been myself with anyone in so long it felt great. We laughed constantly. He would come to see me when it wasn’t his shift. Customers thought we were married and owned the store. The flirting was out of control. I kept thinking “why doesn’t he ask me out?” or “why isn’t he taking anything further?”. A few years went by where we went on like this. I would hear a rumor of him dating some girl. I would ask him about it and he would say “don’t believe everything you hear”. He would get upset when I was upset about gossip I had heard. He came to my friend’s apartment one night at midnight because I told him I would be there. It was an hour away for him. I kissed him and don’t remember what I said exactly. He left around 3 in the morning and had to open the store for me because I was hung over. Why would you drive all that way to see me at midnight if you didn’t want to be with me? I couldn’t figure him out and it was slowly driving me insane.

He would say and do little things that led me to believe he felt more than he did. Don’t call someone beautiful, don’t touch their breast, don’t pull them on your lap, don’t spend extra time with them, IF YOU ARE NO INTERESTED! If you want to just be friends SAY IT! Don’t pussy foot around it for 10 years! My father even loaned him a large sum of money in an emergency. This was huge for my dad because he is very protective of his money. My dad was paid back. My mom loved the guy. When he would call the house he would spend extra time on the phone talking to her. He didn’t come to her wake or funeral even though most of the other company employees did. When I returned to work after my mom died the owner had put him in my store to cover for me. She wanted him there for a few more days while I adjusted to being back. For some reason he was rude and itching to pick a fight with me. I lost it.

I called the owner to tell her to get him the hell out of my store while at the same time he was outside on his cell calling her too. I think we reached our breaking point at a manager’s meeting 2 years before when I was asked to contribute money for his wedding gift. I had no idea he was seeing anyone, engaged, let alone getting married. You can imagine how I felt. The day before he was at my store flirting in my office, and said he had to show me something on his laptop. It was a girl from our State in a porn movie. I laughed it off because that’s how he was. When I thought about it later I wondered how his fiance would’ve felt about him watching porn with a woman that he was close to alone in an empty store at night.

It was around this time that I ruptured a disc in my back. I also had 2 bulging discs above it and 2 bulging discs below it. They also found 2 pages of other problems. No one would operate because it would set off a domino effect. I had 4 epidurals with no relief. Finally the company couldn’t hold my job any longer. Video stores were closing everywhere so it was only a matter of time before they started closing ours. I got out at the right time.

I didn’t talk to the guy from the video store for a few years. It wasn’t until I joined Facebook and he friend requested me that I thought about him. By this time he had children. I was hesitant but accepted anyway. In a way I’m glad I did. I got the closure I needed. He had matured quite a bit and had heard about what I was going through. He apologized for hurting me and not being honest with me.

That being said he was messaging me too much and I was responding. I thought again if I was this guys wife how would I feel? So I told him the truth. I told him he probably meant well but I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to talk. He understood. I was sad. He knew me so well that just by reading a simple post he could tell something was off. He would immediately message me to ask what was going on. No one else did. No one else does.

I’ve closed my Facebook account because it’s too much for me. I know half of what people put on there is a fantasy. They aren’t going to talk about their shitty days all the time. It’s only happy, happy, joy, joy, all the time. I can’t take it. It makes me feel more alone.

I haven’t met anyone like him since. Someone I feel comfortable around sober and I’m attracted to. I don’t exactly put myself out there either. I’m too tired and worn out. It’s easier to be alone.


Bipolar Memories

I recently read Polishing Dookie’s post “The Piano Man” on her blog and found so many similarities that it had me thinking. I thought of my own Grandparents and immediate family. I then went through some pictures. I’m not sure if this was a good idea or not.

I never knew my father’s father. He passed away at a young age from bleeding ulcers. I know he was stern, hardworking, and did not show affection. I’ve only seen one photo of him and it was blurry. I know my dad was born and raised mostly on a farm. He’s the oldest of 9.  My father’s siblings do not talk to each other at all. They do not show emotion. All the men on my dad’s side of the family have these famous Popeye forearms. I’m not kidding. My dad, not realizing what his looked like, had an anchor tattoo on one and a skull on the other. The tattoos were so horrible no one was surprised when the tattoo artist was shot to death a few years later.

My father’s mother was 4′ 9″ and also stern. She didn’t do hugs until she was in her 70’s. She didn’t tell her children she loved them until she was in her 70’s. She had been adopted and the circumstances of her childhood were less than ideal from what I can piece together. My sister and I would be left with her on occasion when my parents needed a weekend alone or there was an emergency. It wasn’t our favorite place to be.

For some reason we spent most of our time with my mother’s side of the family. My mother’s mother was loud and overbearing. She wasn’t the best wife or mother. Of course my mom always longed for her approval. She never got it. Even though she raised her brothers and sisters and was the one who sacrificed the most. My mother’s father was a plumber and served in the Army. He let my Grandmother do as she pleased without question or responsibility. Eventually she left him with 7 children, there was 8 but she had given one up for adoption when they were first married. It wasn’t my Grandfather’s.

My mother was close to her father. When he was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and Bone Cancer she was devastated. He insisted on being treated at the VA Hospital. He was diagnosed too late but as a last ditch effort they had taken bone from his neck to fuse something. He had a halo screwed into his head. When my mom would take us daily to see him she would have to clean him, change his diaper, there would be vomit running down the front of the halo and his top. She would clean this too. Her siblings couldn’t see him like that. When we received the phone call that he had passed away I could hear my mom screaming at someone on the phone. The Hospital was refusing to remove the halo saying it would break his neck. She thought this was insane since he was already dead. He had suffered with that thing on him and she wanted it off. She told them she was coming there with a screw driver and if it wasn’t off by the time she got there she was doing it herself.

My mom was one of the toughest most loving people I will ever know. Her experience with Lung Cancer changed her personality and changed the rest of us forever. I’ll never fully recover from those years.

I’m at the point in my life where my father is thinking of what he needs to do with the house and anything else he has. He’s been trying to figure this out for months. My mother wanted the house split 3 ways. My dad isn’t so sure it should be like that. He knows everything that I’ve done for him and my mom. I’ve also paid for a lot of things and pay monthly bills. I’m on Disability. My sister is married with a house, my half brother makes a lot of money that he usually gambles or drinks away.

It’s already started. My mom had a ring made for me from an extremely gaudy ring my Grandmother had. When she showed it to me she said “This is for you after I’m gone. I know you’ll probably never get married like your sister so I wanted you to have something for yourself”. Now my sister debates this and my father doesn’t know what the truth is. I doubt the ring is even worth much. It’s just the point of it. I can only imagine what they’ll do when it comes to my dad’s antique clocks or if he doesn’t make a will or a decision about the house. I’m not looking forward to it. Neither one of my siblings would have a problem with me living in a shelter or my car. At one time my sister had said something about me living with her. They have a good sized house and a spare room. I wouldn’t because of her husband. I mentioned it in passing recently and she denied ever saying it.

Family. Do we have to like them? No. Do we have to love them? It depends on who you ask.

Easy Breezy

1974372_10203801673429154_2743617788152765748_oI’ve said it before but I’ll remind you that I really don’t have anyone in my life to ask stupid questions. Questions like, “Do you like this vacation rental?”, “Do you think it’s too much?”, “Are they supposed to charge for that?”, or “Do these pants make me look fat?”. lol Ok I really don’t care about the last question.

I bought a one way ticket to Florida that leaves on August 20th and I have to book a place soon to stay. I was looking at Homeaway but there are a lot of fees connected, driving the price up. When you first see $129/night for a 3 bedroom, 2 bath, house with a pool on the water you think “YAY!!”. Then you click on it and it turns into $4,000 for 12 days. “BOO!!”.

Someone at Capital One wasn’t paying attention and gave me a credit card with 0% APR for a year so that’s what I’m using for this trip. I still want to be careful. I want to pay it off as soon as possible and not fall into old bad habits with money that brought me to Bankruptcy.

I’ve just been afraid lately that this might be the last time I’m able to really travel. I want to see a few relatives that are important to me. My Auntie Lee is my mom’s sister and just like her except almost always happy and blond. We were very close and I love her. She’s getting older and my health is getting worse. My kidney is having some issues which scares me. No one is really taking any of it seriously except for me. My dad has his own health issues and is worried about his birds. He’s also been accessorizing his truck for some weird unknown reason. He thinks he’s on an episode of “Pimp My Ride”.

My sister just came back from her 10th vacation this summer and when she called she only wanted to talk about herself. Not exactly a surprise. She wasn’t happy at my attitude. The pharmacy gave me my medication made by another new company that they do not have a complete ingredient list for. Of course after a week on it I already know it’s crap. I also know that they won’t let me exchange it or do anything about it because it’s a generic of Adderall. They don’t realize how many of these overseas companies still use gluten as a binder and the medication’s efficacy is dramatically changed. I am a zombie who cries all day. Thank you so much CVS!

I do have good news. My brother came over with his son, my oldest nephew. He’s going to an excellent college. When I say excellent it’s an understatement. I’m so proud of him. He’s kind and smart. I showed him my blog and he said “I love you Auntie Day”. Too bad his older sister doesn’t see me the same way. She has been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and has aimed her cruelty and violence at me on more than one occasion.

I am petrified to go on this vacation. It’s more expensive than I thought it would be and I’m not sure my relatives in the area are going to have time for me. Part of me is sad and part of me accepts that. I’m also afraid something will happen to my dad while I’m gone. If it does than I break my agreement and find the first flight home right? It’s a 4 and 1/2 hour flight. I hate that I have to reassure myself constantly instead of being able to just go with it. My sister’s input of “That’s stupid” or “Are you crazy?” hasn’t exactly helped matters.

Before my brother in law knew me as well as he does now he would say to my twin sister “Why can’t you be more like your sister? You know, easy breezy?”. She would respond with “Because she’s on drugs asshole!”. He would laugh at this. It went on for years until he finally understood that I just laughed and went along with what everyone said to avoid confrontation and because I was medicated. It wasn’t until the day everything bubbled up like a volcano that he learned.

I wish I could be easy breezy and let things go instead of going over every possibility of what can and will go wrong 1,000 times a day until I want to vomit. I am my father’s daughter.

The picture was taken at The Naples Zoo in Florida when I last visited. I enjoyed my time there and felt at home with the atmosphere. I have to try to remember that.


I used to love the 4th of July. Every year I would buy a new outfit, have my hair done, put on my make up, and get anxious to have the night start. I knew I would see “friends” and probably meet new people. It was fun for me most of the time.

When I stopped drinking I didn’t expect that ALL of my “friends” were going to slowly disappear except one. And even that one would stop inviting me to anything and everything. I wasn’t “The Fun Dana” anymore. Although she remembers all the bad things, humiliating things, and dangerous things I did while drinking, she still missed “The Fun Dana”. She also didn’t want to put me in a position where I might be “tempted” to drink.

The first year or so of sobriety I could understand this. At year 7 almost 8 it pisses me off. When last 4th of July I was told her and her boyfriend weren’t doing anything except cooking outside and maybe watching a movie I didn’t believe her. I decided to stop by.

When I got to her road and looked down it, I could see the cars parked up and down the street. She lives at the end and then there’s the beach. I parked and went around back where there were people I didn’t know. I saw my best friend of 30 years walking towards me with a pretend smile on her face. I could tell she was already buzzed. She yelled my name and gave me a hug. I stayed 15 minutes and left. We never discussed it and I still don’t get invited to anything.

My sister has been at her in-laws beach house for the last few weeks. She has disowned me. One less person to talk to. The only other person I talked to keeps texting me for money or Adderall. I decided that I am no longer enabling her. Another one bites the dust.

My father called the drugstore today and yelled at the Pharmacist for 10 minutes when it was really my dad’s fault. My dad has been extremely hard to live with lately and I’m sure he thinks the same about me.

I’m sad all the time lately. I think about the people I’ve lost like my mom. I don’t know how to be happy. I never really learned how to let go and just be. I know I have felt happiness while drinking. Many times while I sat by the ocean with just my best friend and the waves. We would talk for hours and laugh for hours, looking at the view and feel content. We would even say it out loud. Maybe that was pretend but felt real. Her and I were loners for so long. I do miss being with her. We were a team for so long I never acknowledged the fact it was like a break up when I stopped drinking. Maybe she felt a loss in some way too. I should’ve asked.

Feeling Alone and Knowing It

I understand that unless you are Bipolar or have a Mental Illness you will never be able to truly comprehend what some of us go through. Something that others would “get over” in time, takes me years or sometimes never to “get over”. I am told almost daily to “stop living in the past”.

Let me ask this. Would you want someone to whip you everyday then pour salt in your wounds? Would you want your head to feel like it’s going to explode with the pressure? Your heart with the pain? I don’t think so. Neither do I. But it’s what it feels like. Often. I can’t pray it away, wish it away, chant it away, think of a stop sign, snap a rubber band, or use any behavioral management. If it’s going to come I can’t stop it. I can only wait it out and hope it leaves me whole and not in pieces.

There was an incident recently where someone said something to me about how I need to get used to being alone. They said my father’s health is failing and once he passes I’ll be alone. It isn’t like I have children like my sister does. Well, thanks for that pep talk! Assholes, everybody has one. I would’ve loved to have children if I hadn’t spent most of my child baring years drunk. I refused to bring a child into this world that I couldn’t afford, to be raised in dysfunction. When I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder I made the decision not to have children because of my family history. I was kind of on the fence. If I had met a man who was kind and stable who knows? Then due to kidney disease and other health issues the choice was taken from me. I went into Menopause at 39/40 years of age. So that was that.

I always thought my twin sister would be there for me. I should have known better. Even when we were younger she didn’t want us to have the same friends. I was not allowed to be at the same parties she was in high school. It got a little better when we got older but we never were as close as I wanted us to be. She thinks we are too close if we talk more than 3 times a week. My mother and her sister talked sometimes 3 times a day! And would see each other almost every other day! They talked and laughed. How I miss hearing them laugh. I miss a lot of things.

Good news is my dad is feeling a little better. He sold all of his chickens and a few pigeons. That’s progress. His mood has improved a little bit but it comes and goes. I still get the brunt of it as usual.


Is There A Doctor In The House?

Do you ever feel there is a huge lack of Doctors that truly understand Bipolar Disorder or Mental Illness at all? I do. When I was going through everything with my dad and was extremely irrational I called mine. I was stuttering and rambling on. I was trying to explain that I needed to be there for him. I needed to feed the birds. I needed to calm down. I needed SLEEP!

He wanted me in the hospital. I laughed at him. He gave me a prescription for basically an over the counter sleep aid. The ingredient in Benadryl. Diphenhydramine HCI 50 mg, and Trazodone 100 mg. I didn’t even get the over the counter one because I already have it. I took the Trazodone and was out for 6 hours. When I woke up I couldn’t move my arms or legs. I also couldn’t speak. I used my nose to dial my sister on my cell phone and tried speaking to her. It scared the crap out of her. Two hours went by before I could move almost normally. I called the Doctor who told me to take extra Adderall to counter act the Trazodone. I’m not a lab experiment.

I think I’ve been having a lot of trouble with my meds because he never adjusted them after I told him I now only have a total kidney function of 79 %. I have LOST 120 % of kidney function. Most medications are filtered through your kidneys. He asks me everytime I go to see him “So have we tried ……… yet?” Gee you’re the Doctor don’t you know? And what’s this we shit? It’s just me suffering with these crappy side effects, not you! I’m sick of it. Why can’t they make a pill that makes me feel how alcohol did until it didn’t anymore? Sorry, I’m cranky.


First, the good news. I booked the trip to Orlando, Florida 5 days 4 nights with a Meet and Greet for Sebastian Bach. Between Airfare, Hotel, Ticket and VIP package I spent a total of $588. I thought it was a pretty good deal and will admit to being somewhat manic when making my decision.

My father is less than thrilled. He’s actually kind of pissed. I think he’s more afraid than anything. This will be my first concert sober. I have not really been out at night for the last 7 years. My dad has this weird notion that you only drink alcohol at night. Probably because of all the late night phone calls he received to come get me at the hospital, jail, or some weird place. I can’t blame him for feeling the way he does. After coming so close to death in the last 10 months and knowing what my future probably holds, I decided to start living. I can’t be afraid of letting my dad down or making him angry over the smallest things. Because I am Bipolar with Conversion Disorder and an extreme Anxiety Disorder, my life is automatically shortened by 12 years. The numbers for people with Celiac Disease is a 10 year loss of life expectancy. If you add in my Stage Three Chronic Kidney Disease I’m toast in a few years! I really do take these numbers with a grain of salt but it’s still doesn’t change the facts. Life is short.

I have been asked why I want to do this trip. My dad will never understand and most people won’t. I FEEL EVERYTHING TEN TIMES MORE THAN EVERYONE ELSE. I am sensitive, dramatic, I read into everything someone says or does, I’m hurt too easily, I live in the past where there are good memories and monsters. This is me. My one outlet has always been music.

When I listen to a song or watch a performance and I feel moved or understood that is the greatest feeling in the world. I envy those that can get up on a stage and belt out a song with all of their feelings and pain or joy spilling out of them. If I could sing out my pain I would be happy. Don’t get me wrong, I still try to sing in my car, I’m just not very good. It’s still a release. A song can bring me up or bring me down. When I hear lyrics that resonate with events in my life it’s even more invigorating.

Now I’ll move on to Humans. For some reason I don’t consider myself to be in this category. lol I don’t know why. The loss of humanity I see on a daily basis just enforces my need not to be associated with other people. There was a post on Facebook about how Doctors freely give out too much pain medication, knowing the person is an addict. That they are doing this for the money. This person had lost her best friend to a drug overdose. They both had worked for me for a few years. I was a little disgruntled with her placing all of the blame at the feet of the Doctors. I knew back then that her friend had Mental Health issues. I was just too caught up in my own crap to want to help.

I believe that blaming the Doctors is pointless. Most addicts are drinking or using drugs to escape something. It might be trauma or Mental Illness the point is they don’t or I didn’t drink a case of beer and a pint of anything a day because I liked the taste of alcohol and making an ass out of myself. I did it because the pain, anxiety, worthlessness, fear, all of it became too much. I did do some drugs but alcohol was my choice. Notice I use the word choice. Alcohol isn’t a thing that holds you down and makes you drink it. You make a choice and keep making that choice to feel normal.  It bothers me that more people do not see this as a Mental Health Issue. If you go to a “specialist”, whether it’s for your back or your brain, a lot of them will not be as knowledgeable about other health matters as they should be. A back doctor might suspect drug abuse but doesn’t really know the ins and outs of addiction.

I myself had gone to a Neurologist who suggested I have a drink or two a day for my tremors. He is a well respected doctor. I asked him if he had read my file. He said he had. I said “You know I’m an alcoholic right?” he says “Oh but you can still have one or two drinks can’t you?”. He hasn’t been the only one. I can’t count how many health professionals do not understand  what Gluten is. This is where there needs to be a change.


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.


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.

Manic Times

I recently stopped taking my mood stabilizer Topamax. Due to a problem with my insurance I couldn’t afford it for a week. During that time my morning crying and irritability seemed to disappear. When I worked the insurance problem and started taking it again the crying and anger came back.

I now feel better but I think I might be in Manic mode. I am more impulsive, my judgement isn’t exactly great, and I just want to run. I want to do things I never got to do and my mind races with ideas. The only thing stopping me is my health and money. I’m agitated and can’t sleep. I looked into flying to Florida for a Rock Festival by myself. I don’t know if this is good or bad. I have not been socially active in years. I’m always afraid my dad will get mad if I go out during the night. He thinks this is the only time people will drink. If I mention a concert or something similar he gets upset. I have stopped living so I don’t rock the boat with him. I have no friends left and my family doesn’t really like to spend time with me. I’m too sensitive and dramatic. They limit themselves to a quick text.

With my health problems and the future being unclear I don’t understand why I can’t take a trip or do something I used to love. There are always a hundred questions. No one thinks I can handle a social environment sober. After seven years of sobriety how am I to know if I stay home much of the time. I only leave the house for groceries. This isn’t living.

I also can’t trust myself to know if this is the Manic part of me or if I really do want to join the land of the living again.

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