swelltide.

Our friend has taken the kids and left us the house to ourselves tonight. I have blown off work to enjoy the peace and quiet until the girlfriend comes home.

The whole situation is too much for me. This girl is attempting to 'work things out' with the newest baby daddy. They communicate over text messages and haven't had a real phone conversation with each other since she has been staying with us. This guy is nearly ten years older than her and he acts like a child. They both do.

I don't know the protocol here. It really isn't my place to say anything about her personal life, right? Over the weekend she spent the night with this guy, who doesn't want her living with him-- and they had unprotected sex. When I learned this... I was so angry that I couldn't see straight. So, we let her stay with us, for an indefinate period of time, so that she can make the same mistakes over again? Meanwhile, we get stuck watching her kids for the night??

Not anymore.

But, how do I comment on the situation without interfering into her personal life?

I have spent the last few days trying to maintain. To stay calm. Noise. Crying. Mess. Clutter. Have been irritable and tired. At least tonight I might get lucky and then get some sleep.

Swelltide.

Once again, I have never intended to go so long between posts. Have just been so busy with school, which despite all of the time that I am putting in still isn't going nearly as well as I would like. It might be time for an honest conversation with myself about whether or not I am cut out for a science major-- and if it would be cost effective to keep going until I get the degree. Especially now, as the economy isn't in good enough health to guarantee that I will be able to find a job when I get done.

On the bipolar front... I still have not been taking any medication. Only recently did my loans come in, and even with the refunds, I am not sure that I have the money to keep paying what I have on the meds. Hundred  bucks a month, without insurance. I am planning a trip but to the psychiatrist to maybe find a cheaper alternative. A combination of generics, maybe. Something. One appointment though is a hundred bucks itself.   Which, I have but can't really afford to spend.

Luckily, I have been fairly even-keeled. Though, I've had more nights of not being able to sleep. Fighting with myself to manifest any kind of energy. I've been cycling every few days, riding the ups and downs. It is much easier, even without the medications, now knowing some coping mechanisms. Managing stress. Learning to take control. If only I always summon the energy, find the drive or ambition. That is the most frustrating part of bipolar for me. Being a hardworking and normally focused person; putting things off and making excuses not to do things. Not having any energy. I hate it.

A day at a time...

Anyways... I'll see that I can't post more often so long as I can keep up with school work.

Swelltide.

Money. Again.

I am trying hard not to obsess about it-- to let it stress me out, but I have none. Actually, I owe money. My bank account has a negative balance, I have a few creditors calling and almost all of my bills are past due. Again, my school hasn't yet cut me a refund check for the student loans that I have taken out, almost a month into the new semester. If I had known that these things took so long, I would have planned for it. I have been battling this bureaucratic apathy since going back to school. Some kid coming out of high school might have mom and dad available to help, but I don't. Not really.

Over the break, I tried to pick up some hours at work but things have slowed down. I got a call from the office a few days ago, but now with school, I don't have the time. There is some resentment, but who cares?

So, money. Money. I haven't been to see the shrink. I haven't been taken my medication. I haven't been to get my prescription filled. I can't afford it, and to make an appointment to talk about cheaper alternatives costs money.

I have been doing relatively well off the meds. My attitudes towards things have been much different since going to therapy. Though, I am still dealing with some anxiety. I am still not sleeping like I should. I still stress. Just not like I used to. My moods have been fairly stable.

I will be happy when the student loans come through. Our my taxes get done. When there isn't debt hanging over my head.

That is where I am at. Time to get some homework done.

Swelltide.

My girlfriend and I had a crisis meeting with my therapist yesterday. We all talked about the living situation. Stress. Being ill all the time. How hectic everything is for us right now. And, school. So much has been thrown in our path. We're both dealing with a lot.

For my girlfriend to be able to talk about things, and someone not to dismiss how she feels or make her  feel crazy. For someone to offer the kind of support, and to suggest the kind of things that she had been saying, feeling and thinking for so long-- she really needed it.

Here I am, in this position where I have so much to do, and so much to focus on, that I can't offer the kind of support that she needs. She keeps saying that she doesn't want to come home. I know that, in part, it is because I can't be there for her in the way that needs me to be. The guilt I feel for that. The one person in the world who means the most to me, who has been there for me even at the times when I didn't deserve it...

Her anxiety is better. Her IBS, as the doctor calls it, really isn't. The therapist believes, as I do, that it is stress induced. Since we've lived over here, both of us have been sick almost constantly. Sleeping a lot.  Wanting to be left alone. Not eating like we should be, or taking care of ourselves like we should be. She is depressed. Dealing with stress. And, it is taking a toll on her health.

We've dealt with a potential law suite, my almost being laid-off, my car breaking down. Refurbishing this place that was supposed to be ours, that was supposed to be cheap, that was supposed to be a retreat. Instead, we're paying more, dealing with things not being fixed and the appliances breaking down-- and getting none of the things that we wanted. It is an hour away from anything, so we're dealing with a much larger expense in gasoline. It is dark, and musty. Our basement is full of damp and bugs. It isn't our home, just some place that we rent. Mom has done her best to remind us constantly of whose place it really is. And, I have dad coming in whenever he pleases to get tools or furniture out that should have gone before we moved in.

None of this is right, fair, or just. We were expected to put in all of this free labor into a place that turned out to be nothing that we wanted. My girlfriend's parents donated all of this flooring early on, because my parents were selling this as a wonderful opportunity for us. And we've ended up paying much more than what we thought we were going to, and doing a lot of the touch-ups ourselves. I don't  like thinking of this way about my own parents, at all. But, we got screwed. And now, the girlfriend wants to move out, because of the way we've been treated and because of my mother's personality... and I am in this terrible position of having to potentially sever ties with my parents forever, or continue putting up with things the way they are.

I know, when we have the conversation about moving-- that it will be the end of any relationship with my mother. I can be branded as a selfish child who is ungrateful for all the things that I've been given. And that will be that. I will talk to my dad here and there, get some mail from him once in a while and see them on Christmas without any actual involvement as a family.

Everything here seems to revolve around my mother's emotional needs. Everything has always revolved around my mother's emotional needs. She is so jumbled and so tangled emotionally, that everything around her, must be complicated. She is bitter, and negative. She refuses to deal with it or to talk about it. It is something I have talked about in therapy almost every visit. I expect my mom to be a mom. To offer the kind of support, caring and concern that a mother should. But, she can't. When I had the conversation with her about my being bipolar-- it was the same as any serious conversation that I have ever had with her. I approach her almost like she is a child. I have to be very careful about what I say, and how I say it. Then, everything becomes about her. How unhappy she is. How she never has been happy. How she has dealt with certain things. It is her way of acknowledging what I am going through while at the same time telling me that she can't be counted on for any real support.

That is what is always comes down to. She wants to help, maybe, but can't because she deals with her own shit. Her own shit that she doesn't like to think about because it scares her to death. I talked to her about going to talk to a shrink, but she won't do it. It scares her to much. "If you start where do you stop..." I couldn't say anything because there wasn't anything that I could say that would actually help. What needs to be said and probably never will is, "If you don't want to help yourself mom, I can't make you, but I need you to be a parent. I have always needed you to be a parent." My dad, who I used to have so much respect for, who I still have a lot of respect for... I pity them. Even this makes me feel guilty. What child should pity his parents?

It was a terrible idea renting from my parents.

The plan at this point, is to have several plans. We're going to talk to my parents about needing to live here for either really cheap or pay no rent at all. The plan then, if this doesn't work, is to live with my girlfriend's parents for a few months to save money and get a place closer to school and her work. This is probably what we've needed to do in the first place. If we can't do that then we are going to move to some hole-in-wall place short-term until we can figure things out. We probably qualify now for a rent controlled apartment. I am honestly hoping that my parents don't want this to happen. It would be easier then for us to move on. What happens if they say that they will help us out, and we continue to be unhappy here?

I have enough to do, that I don't honestly believe that I can go on this way-- and keep up with everything. Working as much as I can. Commuting two hours every day. Spending every spare moment that I have studying, and now trying to catch up on all of the things that I need to know but haven't done well on. Reading. Homework. Lab reports. Tests. Keeping the house straight. Trying to clean and organize. And, all of the other things that go along with day to day life-- taking care of my car, making sure the animals are feed. Getting in some exercise. I may have taken on too much. Now, we may be moving. Now, I have all of this crap to deal with that should have been dealt with a long time ago.

Never again will I put us into a situation like this without first considering all of the details. There were no expectations going into moving here. There wasn't much of a conversation about how much rent was going to end up being or what we were going to be responsible for in the end. My mom is pushing for us to sign a two-year lease, and it isn't going to happen. I don't know if I can stay even for a few more months.

Swelltide.

The disorganization of my job stresses me out. What a waste of a day that today was.

Everything could be so easy, and everything could go so smoothly if someone wanted them to. I am not really sure whose job such things is and I've been working at this same place for years. I understand that some things are out of my control and some things are better left alone. Pick your battles and all of that. Who would I be to to even mention any of this stuff at work. anyway? My life is a mess. I am one of the most disorganized people that I know.

I have still been irritable. Still been lethargic. Still feeling isolated.

I've been eating mostly junk. I haven't been sticking with a steady sleep schedule, as impractical as that is for me most of the time anyway. I haven't been getting much exercise. I am smoking too much. Add a little stress on top of it all, and my mood has not been surprising.

I must cancel or postpone therapy this week because of work. After missing the last week because my therapist was on vacation.

I have been thinking about seeking some kind of support from the university when I go this fall. Maybe going without therapy altogether and having meetings with a school therapist. I don't even know if it is realistic to expect that they have one. I don't want special treatment. But, it may be good for someone with the university know what is going on with me.

I'll be glad when the summer is over and I have started classes. When I stop anticipating, and things are really happening.

Swelltide.

In the car yesterday and my girlfriend started reading from a therapy module that I was keeping behind my visor.

Bipolar is often triggered by a time of great stress. She asked if I knew what this moment or time was for me.

We moved when I was sixteen, away from the only real friends that I had made up to that point in my life, where I attended a much more urbanized highschool. Superficial. Everything played like a bad reality television show. I ended up in an alternative school, where I took the minimum number of classes to graduate. Where I smoked a lot of pot. I was so angry at my situation, at my parents, at the dumb kids that I went to school with-- I would go days sometimes without saying anything to anyone. I spent two years like this, not talking to anyone. Hiding out, smoking too much and reading books. Sketching. Smoking pot. My friends would say that I always seemed sad.

I thought this was my moment, but after thinking about it, I'm not so sure.

I've had many moments of mania, or near mania, before this. I would go days without attending school regularly. I would scream obsenities at strangers when crossing the street. I would be a total oddball in the hallways at school. Then, it came across as a weird kind of confidence, and I or anyone else, never thought much of it. I would have weeks of eating my lunch alone, talking to no one, or not having anyone to talk to. Zoning out in front of the TV.

So, who knows really? It begs again, the question, what is bipolar and what is normal?

Swelltide.

I didn't mean to disappear for so long, but I've had a lot going on. Some much needed time alone with the girlfriend. We both skipped out of work. She's been dealing with a lot of stress and it finally caught up with her, I think. They've switched up her schedule at work and now we'll be seeing even less of each other. I gave her all the encouragement I could-- tried to convince her to leave her job. She's unappreciated, underpaid and she puts up with much more than I would.

It is a hard point to make to a workplace right now. That, sure, you could replace me and probably find some schmoe who has been out of work for a year or two, pay him less but they won't be up to snuff. Everyone sees dollar signs right now. Companies are squeezing employees for everything they can. It isn't fair, but what are you going to do? Leaving is your only real option-- that or drop out completely, as I plan on doing, and get more education.

It is summer, and that means an insane work-load for me-- so maybe soon I'll finally be caught up on some bills. Still no laptop, which makes this even harder. This computer can't do two things at once, and I don't have the patience to log on and wait. When I have things to get out of my addled brain, it needs to be right then.

The last couple of days, I have logged in and checked in. Read Sparta's last post. Thought about things. Would lose inspiration and just log off the computer.

"All around me are successful people, doing big things.  I know that I am more gifted than most of those people.  Yet, here I sit, bemoaning my pitiful self.  And I’m only pitiful because I’m too afraid to make a move."  

I have wanted so desperately to contact him. But, I wouldn't know what to say, really. Other than-- that statement-- has been the story of my life. I am a coward. I can't speak up when I need to. I can barely get myself to do the day to day things that seem simple to everyone else. The last long-term friendships that I've made, other than my girlfriend, were when I was fourteen. These people, whose parents had money for college, or have had the drive to push through life on their own-- now have children, or degrees or some concrete life-plan. All I have is a rented house from my parents and no real goal for the future other than finishing up with school.

A lot of people I work with, or have known in the past, consider me one of the smartest people that they've met. I don't mean to sound egotistical-- this I think is a defining trait of someone living with bipolar. I am a musician, I think abstractly, I paint and write-- I read books about theoretical physics, for fun. Thoughts are simple things, to me-- and action is so difficult.

I have done nothing with my life. I have accomplished little beyond working the same job for seven years-- coming home at the end of a long day (or short day) and plucking a few strings on the guitar. Watching television for hours, until I go to bed. I procrastinate. I am seemingly incapable of doing the simplest things-- the things that other people don't think twice about.  To make it all worse, I struggle with the guilt of this on a daily basis. That I have done nothing. That I have wasted so much time.

No therapy again until the 5th of July, and I feel kind of lost. I may have to break from my job-- or not. I may lose my insurance if that happens-- if that happens. I am trying to catch up on all of things I should have done weeks ago to get into school. The phone rings and I don't answer because I don't feel like talking. Every little action seems so monumental. Every little stress is blown way out of proportion. A depressive period, that seems like nothing, because I've lived this way my entire life.

So, yes. I think this is enough for now. More maybe in a day or two. Getting the laptop back, hopefully, tomorrow.