Thursday

Its Thursday. He’s been on my mind a lot. I don’t really know why. 

Every time I see this commercial about bipolar disorder, I scream inside. It states that bipolar is a lifelong and disruptive. Disruptive? Disruptive. The understatement of a lifetime. I lost a man I truly loved to madness. The worst part: I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t keep him. I couldn’t stay to watch the destruction.  I couldn’t stand it; I couldn’t stand him. To say this is disruptive. Bipolars don’t understand, can’t see, the havoc they reek. Years later and I still grieve.  He was my friend, a great lover. A madman.

He understood me and didn’t judge me. He knew my faults and didn’t care. And then, he went away to a place I couldn’t reach; couldn’t go. How do you get over that? HOW?! Everything I tried, failed. Medication, failing, attempted committing him, therapy, patience, denial. I had nothing left. 

He liked being mad. No, loved it and chose it over me. I don’t know how to explain that, but he did choose. He felt the world misunderstood his affliction and used medication to cover it up. He has no idea how much it devastated me. I still am. And I don’t want to be anymore. 

At first, he couldn’t cope with small things. Then a business failed, he withdrew, hid. He wanted to pursue his dream. He totaled a car in a manic fit. He wouldn’t work. He chose to have our utilities cut off. He hit my truck 2x when he was pissed at me. Had screaming rage fits. He left for another place with no job and wanted me to join the mad trip. I wouldn’t—I only saw bad things there. He wouldn’t work there. He charged up all of our credit cards. He wrecked another truck. We bought another one. He raged at the insurance companies. He raged at an old lady who had too many items in her cart at the grocery. He lied to me. Everything was everyone else’s fault. Never his own. Never. It just got worse. He stepped into a raging flood, literally and was swept downstream in the middle of the night. He was fired from the same company as me. 

 I feared for his life and began to fear for my own. The future. Maybe I lacked faith. I did. But I couldn’t live in this hurricane anymore. He liked it. I didn’t—needed safer place to be. 

I think part of me still believes he duped me. That this was some horrible scheme to draw me in. But it wasn’t. It just happened. All of it. I don’t know how we both got through it…deciding to leave him was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Its not what I wanted but what I thought we both needed. He wanted the maelstrom. I didn’t. 

I grieve him, miss him, hate him, love him and scarred by him. Disruptive? 

Peace

The absence of words. Spending all day talking, cajoling, persuading: the idea of no words after 5 p.m. is seductive.  Silence becomes enveloping and overwhelming.  Yet a blissful nothingness.

Silver Linings in Dark Clouds

A friend just called and helped put things into perspective. Her twenty something daughter is pregnant, going to marry the clown, and my friend is barely 40.  She had her first child (pregnant one) when she was 18.  She didn't want this for her kids. She's not surprised her first, her rebel, chose a hard path; she didn't want them following hers. 

As a friend, listening to her story, I'm thinking (for once) this is a blessing in total disguise. She's worried about her daughter and rightfully do, but she cannot change her decisions.  Just try to make the best with what you have.  A grandchild to love!

A great reminder for me: Do the best with what you have. I cannot change my past or even earlier today.  But I can do the best with what I have at this moment.  I am at home sick, largely moping around bored.  What's the best I can do today? Rest and love it. Rejoice in sitting on my butt at home. Enjoy the hell out of it. Enjoy the silence and the stillness (I was cussing it earlier). Revel in the peace, no phones ringing, lack of insanity.  I have not done that all day--just been a grump.

So, thank you friend. There are good things in all things. 

I'm just a girl....

I had the most invalidating experience the other day: in a doctor’s office.  I have Hashimoto’s thyroiditis.  Basically that means I have a congenital crappy thyroid. Anyway, I had gone in to talk to the doc about some hypothyroid symptoms that had come up over the last 2 months.  

What occurred after that was a discourse in her ideals and preconceptions.  She actually said and I quote: I grieve for you because you had a hysterectomy.  I don’t—one of the best decisions I ever made. Then she went on to tell me my problems stemmed from being alone, being in menopause, the election and because of Wall Streets turmoil.  I am not kidding or exaggerating. I couldn’t make this stuff up.  

I was so stunned I had little to say other than: I don’t think so and I don’t have a problem being alone (another good decision). I had a hysterectomy because of the horrible pain I was in…This is a professor no less. 

So is the healthcare crisis just about the uninsured? Or does it also include crank healthcare? 

The worst part is: the doctor was female. She, in a nutshell, told me all of my issues were psychological….how invalidating is that? What a sexist response to another woman? How could another woman say that?? She honestly said: if I had a husband, I wouldn’t be so stressed. Was she talking about herself? I was married.  He didn’t help with the stress. Ever. 

She also said I could just give him my finances and let him worry about it.  You know what, bitch? I did that too—and he ran up my credit cards. No thanks. 

The craziest thing is: I brought none of this up. NONE. I came in to talk about my thyroid. 

I’m still in shock.  

The thought of one more day there made me want to eat a gun.  I would have, but I called a friend instead.  He talked me down from the ledge.  I wish I could say this was something just horrible, but its from a constant grinding. A grinding away of ideals—in contrast with my own.  

I was born an idealist. That is for sure. I put people on pedestals and then wonder why they disapoint me.  Aware, I am. But the conflict still exists: the leadership here is abyssmal.  Constant change, no defined leader, atmosphere of uncertainity, no trust. You know, the stuff that is a blast to work in.  

I realize many people on this Earth could and would overlook these faults and be grateful for a job. I am not one of them.  I am grateful to be employed: but not at the cost of me.  That may be hard to understand for some. Probably many for whom I work with. I didn’t want to admit it either, but there it is.  I am done here and time to move on.

How in the hell do I move on? 

I wake up today, ready for a new day.  I’ve applied for a new job or 5. I’ve slept on the couch—sick with the flu. Currently sweating like mad—guess its the flu.  The thought hits me: what do I want to do? The usual list emerges. I would love to go back to school for a year. Just escape all of this for awhile.  Write. I’ve always wanted to write, but I have lacked the discipline.  No that’s not true, I just don’t like what I write. So I assume no one else will.

So I review the recent past. What has happened that has put me back here again? Perpetually unhappy with my job?  Nothing. Nothing has happened and that’s part of the problem. Faith. I have no faith left in this organization and it threatens my security. Hope. Hope in the vision for the company and for myself here. Trust. No trust at all in the leadership.  A very wise man once told me, when you are in defiant opposition to the leadership of the company and/or the direction the company is taking. Its time to leave. Guess its time to leave.

But here’s the rub: I’ve attempted to leave before? Will I fail again? Will I succeed? Why? Determination? Or just luck? Where are all the freaking answers to these questions?

What are the odds that I will sit down and just crank out a novel? Then get it published? I don’t know..At the moment I don’t have any ideas but I am willing to try again. 

Maybe I couldn’t leave before because I needed to meet certain people or experience certain things. I don’t know.  

If I want to be honest, I could never be happy with something I didnt respect. There’s the bottom line. No that’s too simple. What is the source of unhappiness? Why I am so unhappy there, really?  

Exploring…the job from the beginning was about survival and supposed to be temporary. Then somewhere along my path I’ve lost faith in myself and stuck around here resenting it. I just couldn’t seem to move-paralyzed in a sense. Whenever I tried to leave, I failed. Why? 

I thought this last change would make me happy-it did for awhile. But now I’m further from that than before. 

I find myself in great opportunities doing things I do not enjoy or have big downsides. Like planning. I am not a natural planner—I had to learn it, but I did well and I am good at it. I can’t say that I loved it. Ever. I enjoyed the collaboration. I enjoyed the challenges and problem solving, but the political stuff and fear I hated. Still do. Made great friends. 

Interesting observation.  With the project, I enjoyed the debating, the problem solving, the resolution and architecture, but the conflict made me sick. Then all the drama. I am so ready to move on its not funny. Just pooped. And now I have become that person in the office. The one who’s on an emotional rollercoaster. You know the people you know are leaving but they have no prospects yet.  About to chew off their feet to get out of the chains. That’s me. My flesh burns when I walk in the office and I resent everyone. Its not their fault. 

How would I write the ending of this chapter in my life? What kind of happy ending would I write? I would be writing, living in the country, successful and traveling. That’s how it would end. Serene life at the beach, writing all day, visiting with friends and family. I love that idea. 

The future

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04.08.08

Thinking about God and what free will means. Growing up Christian there are many dogmas and doctrines to embrace: destiny, predestiny, free will, what have you. God's will vs. free will. Why would God bother with a choice? Choices in religions, wills, and with eternal consequences. Regardless of one's specific faith: just ponder that thought, the choices. Why? Faith and belief is common.

And, why so diverse when Christianity preaches one way to God, through Christ? This one really stumps me. Christ's overall message was Love. So why the exclusionary stuff-the my-way-or-the-highway/hell message? It just doesn't make sense. Why would an all loving, all knowing, all giving all creating Being put quantifiers on his relationships with his Created? Really think about that.

All the Tibetan monks are going to hell? Really? 3 religions are all born from Abraham, but only one will ascend into Heaven? Most other religions acknowledge Christ. Christianity acknowledges no one else.

Back to free will. I was remembering something I read that mentioned, true happiness was denouncing free will and accepting God's will. So I get a bike for Christmas, which is what I want (my will), but if God's will is I give it away then I will be truly happy?

Sigh. The logical mind struggles with Faith, but there must be a place for it. I don't think Faith would read like our tax code, exclusions, loop holes, extensions. I see God way more together than that.

Maybe I lack selflessness required here.