Category Archives: My Journaling~ Ranting, Raving, and Everything Between

I Just Don’t Get Some People


I am sure by now, you all have heard about the tragic deaths of the two news Anchors Alison Parker and Adam Ward. They were two reporters gunned down during a morning broadcast on live television by a disturbed man named Vester L. Flanagan who previously worked at their place of employment.

Now… what kills me… and I have seen other examples of this that I will mention… what kills me are the people out there who believe it was a hoax. Not only that, but they believe Sandy Hook was fabricated as well… right up there with 9/11… hell, I guess these same individuals probably don’t believe the Holocaust happened.

This disturbs me.

Don’t worry… I have no crazy ideas about taking away American’s rights to firearms… but come on, THIS IS RIDICULOUS! Everyone is out to take away your guns… so you post videos on youtube, or use social media to spread your “Hoax” rumors?? Or claim it is some sort of ploy the government is using to gain support for gun control. Speak to Alison’s parents… her death is VERY real. Speak to Adams fiance he was moving with… he is VERY dead as well.

Now, I do believe we must educate ourselves and never take something for face value. However, saying that their death was a hoax, alongside Sandy Hook and others, for the topic of “gun control”… that is ridiculous. Because we don’t see blood and carnage in the short recording like we do in the movies… it is all of a sudden a hoax?! WOW.

Show a little kindness for these unfortunate people who have died at the hand of a very disturbed individual… offer condolences to their loved ones who now get to live lift without their loved one, all the while listening to the BS of others who will not acknowledge their horrendous loss…

Demonstrate a little compassion…

When the only thing you have to say will be hurtful to countless others, practice silence.

Show some respect


Have a little class.


Another Mothers Day Has Passed …


Mothers Day is one of the most difficult days of the year for me. A sad day. A tearful day.

Sadly, my children have always lived with their Dad. Not because I didn’t want them with me, not because I have done something wrong… but because of the way that circumstances played out.

Every year, the kids will make gifts for “Mom” for ‘Mothers Day’, and each year, though they do those crafts at school, I never receive a single one.


During my many visits, I have seen some of the sweet things made to be given to me on mothers day, some of the gifts the kids had even told me about before hand, but they have never made it to me….


The simple answer … they were addressed to “Dad”.

If you are reading this and you do the same thing, and the “Mom” is still in the picture as much as possible… don’t treat her as though she is dead.

I may not live right next door, and I may not get to spend most of my time with my children, but I am here. I do all that I can with the way things are. I talk to my kids, during visits I teach them things, create crafts with them, play, color, sing to them, teach them learning songs, count to 20, count to 100, help with homework, teach them manners, morals, and how to be kind… and so on. I try to be here for them, I try to teach them new things, I try to show them how to be a good person. When I am with them, and a holiday for their Dad approaches, I make sure to have them make their Dad a card, or get something for them to give him… I remind them to call I make sure to deliver their gift. I treat him like he is their Dad… cause he is.

I would never replace the word “Father” for “Mother”… or cross out Dad’s name to replace with mine… Never.

The first time I noticed that something meant to come to me for Mothers Day did not, it hurt. My little ones told me of what they had made for me, but it never got sent out. Then, months later, I found out why. During one of my visits, I came across the crafts they told me they had made me for Mothers Day… and I started to cry uncontrollably when on the front, the word “mother” was crossed out and replaced with “father”.

I am still here!!!!

I am not dead.

I don’t need every single mothers day activity completed since preschool, but one, or maybe two would have been nice.

Just keep this in mind.

In the big picture, this isn’t a big deal… but when it comes to the most painful things about not having my children with me as primary custodian… this is a big deal.

I am not dead, don’t act as though I am.

Actually, the irony is… if I were dead, every single one of those cards and gifts would have become memorialized… perhaps taken to my grave… never to be “seen” by me… but cried over and a big deal to the little ones giving it.

Instead, I don’t get them, or see them… as if I were dead… but not JUST dead…

dead and hated.

©bipolarmuse June 2015

I Would Like a “Pause” Please.

Oh my.

Life has been so very hectic as of late and I have so many posts I want to make, so many topics I want to talk about, and yet I feel as though I have NO time whatsoever to spare to do so!


I must happily tell you that I have moved into my new house (new to me anyhow), and am now completely flustered trying to get everything in its rightful place. Everything else will either be thrown away, or it will be donated… I can see the beginnings of a “hoarder” and I must nip it in the bud NOW! LOL. I refuse to be the cra cat lady, living with her dead husband and pets, all 199 of em (pets, not husbands, wink wink, I think)…. walking through the garbage bin of a house… pissing off neighbors, and having my children refusing to come visit me. I will not become her.


What can I tell you about the new home?? It is so cozy to me… my personal castle…I literally get little flutters in my tummy when I am driving home because I love the way I feel when I am here… I love it so much. It is home to me… it is soothing… it is where I feel completely content… this is a new phase in my life and I feel this subtle hum of energy that is insanely addicting. It feels so wonderful to feel like this. No doubt that part of the reason I feel so great is that my little ones will be here in a couple weeks!!!!!! I am excited beyond explanation! I feel on top of the world!!!!!

In a matter of days I will have all of my children here… sharing this new home that I absolutely LOVE… sharing my love with not only my children, but also with this amazing man who has kept me on my toes in love for nearly three years now… we are going to be making lasting memories here in my castle, enjoying this amazing backyard… creating memories, these moments, little bits of life to live in our minds and our hearts ~ FOREVER~

myBackyardYo©bipolarmuse 2015

A Busy Muse On The Move!

Time has slipped by me, as it normally does when I am busy with that little thing called “life”. My wonderful man, S/O, Boyfriend, life-long mate… who I affectionately refer to as “Daddy Long Schlong” with a giggle… has bought us a new home! For several years, we have been living in an awesome 2 bedroom condo, but we have certainly outgrown it this last year… and I expressed the crazy-intense desire to “move”. So after much discussion, we decided to get a house and rent out our condo. EEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (that is my happy squeal)!!!

In about a weeks time, we found the house that was “home”. We looked at several properties, most were “ok”, and a couple we did like and would have settled for… then we came across our “home”. We were already in the area, as we had looked at about 4-5 houses in that housing community alone, and when we pulled up, I noticed the “tidy” front yard, and the US flag blowing in the breeze. It felt promising, and I was already forming a positive feeling for the home. Then we walked through the front door…

I knew instantly… I was “home”.

I felt as though I didn’t even need to look any further, this was the house I wanted, this was where I felt instantly that I was home. All the little things that ‘irk’ me about other houses we looked at, those little things were not seen… it all felt perfect.

Not only was the house very “cozy”, but the backyard was amazing, and very park-like. We fell in love with it instantly! It’s the type of place where you WANT to spend all of your time… the patio is also an observation deck… the stairs had been removed, but we fully intend to get new ones and take advantage of the amazing view of the night sky. We live on the outskirts of town, and it is the perfect place to sit, sip wine, and gaze out into the night… or, watch the fireworks as they are exploding into the night on the 4th of July. (I fully intend to get pictures of that this year from the observation deck, so I will post those to share with all of you.)

Be patient with me… all of this has made me very busy! This weekend we start moving in!!! But first we need to start off by cleaning it top to bottom, steaming the carpet, painting the rooms, and etc… you get what I’m sayin’… and doing tiny repairs. All the while, I have to also get the condo ready for renting it out. I am a very busy Muse…  VERY BUSY.

I can’t wait to share this adventure with you all!

I hope you all are having an awesome Spring! Thank you for riding along on this adventure with me… I will certainly keep you posted…

I am also staying keenly aware of how I am doing mentally. We all know that even those good life events can be the cause of a Bipolar “episode“… yes, I am being honest. This is certainly No joke what-so-ever. It is just the way it is. So I am staying ever observant of how I am feeling, what my thought processes are, and ever-so-important, what is my quality of sleep. To the normal peeps out there, that may sound odd, but sleep is insanely important for every single one of us… even more-so for those of us with mood disorders. Have you noticed how at every single one of your doctor appointments, they ask you how your sleep is? It is CRA IMPORTANT. Research it yourself… Knowledge is power!!


Here’s a couple pictures of our new home I want to share with you…

1526917_P01_75 1526917_R01_12Both pics are of the backyard. One is looking from the back of the yard toward the house, and the other is from the house, looking toward the very back of the backyard.

ourfirsthomeAwe, our first home together! Not fond of the all brown, but that is easily fixed (insert a winking emoticon here) … add a little paint… and presto!

Thank you all for all the love and support! I could never thank you all enough for the wise words you share with me… you always remind me that sharing my world is the right path… you are my inspiration, whether you know it or not. Our relationship is important to me! Please feel free to write to me, whether it’s a simple comment, or you feel the need to reach out in an email. I am always here… always listening… ALWAYS.

“…keep ajar the door that leads into madness…”~ Christopher Morley


I have made posts before where I mention the connection between “madness” being hand in hand with mood disorders, and artistic talents.

Granted, not everyone who is Bipolar has talents like that… many cannot hold a tune when it comes to singing, cannot play musical instruments, cannot write music or poetry… I am sure you get my point here.

In my case, I was lucky enough to have talent when it comes to singing and writing. I do not have an amazing voice, but I can hold a tune. I also loved music… passionately!! I would spend hours upon hours memorizing songs to sing… singing into my Karaoke machine… writing new songs… I was a total homebody, often in my own fantasy world, writing music and songs hour after hour, day after day. It was my happy place.

I tend to write more when I am mentally ‘unwell’. I am not sure why that happens to be the case, but it is. I can totally see the pattern. My ‘muses’ tend to be in a love affair with my ‘madness’. Am I out of my mind, in a corner, drooling on myself?? Or in 4 day old clothes, standing on a busy corner, screaming to anyone who looks at me about Gods love, and the imminent ‘end of the world’? No. Fortunately, that is not my “type” of madness.

Mine is subtle. Mine can be mute. Mine can be woven intricately with my core beliefs, my personal reality. Taunting me. Causing me to question my most personal thoughts, tainting my positivity with some sort of doubt. My madness plays a psychological chess mind fuck with ‘me’. But I am privy to its ways. I am not always in control of it, but I am Master over it, and I will always win… no matter the war it inflicts upon me, no matter what it does to TRY and destroy me… it won’t. It cannot.

I will ALWAYS win. ♥

©bipolarmuse 2015

“Whose The Queen?!” My Dear Sister, YOU Are. ♥

queenMy beautiful sister…

I have a sister 4yrs younger than me. She is beautiful, and has a heart of gold. I absolutely adore her… and though I am the oldest, I look to her as a positive influence, as an example to follow… I strive to be like her.

When we were young, it seemed as though I was favored because I resembled my Mom and her side of the family… whereas my sister resembled our Dad and his side of the family, and they were not liked at all.

I know it was not intentional by any means, but my poor sister had to endure hearing of how our Dad was hated, how he was all bad (along with his family),  and then in the same breath, hearing, “you look just like your Dad”. I can’t imagine the pain she felt when hearing this, the conflict it caused in her head… no doubt taking it to mean that she too wasn’t liked as much. A “guilty by association” type of thing. As a youngster, I did not think anything of it. In my brain, I was the oldest and had certain privileges with that, and she was the youngest, and being the “baby” came with it’s own little bag of goodies. It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized some of the damage that may have been done by “words” spoken as I mention above.

Of course, I do know that it wasn’t done maliciously… I KNOW this. However, I am sure that even-though it was not intended to hurt her, I am sure it did. And I am quite sure it left some deep wounds carried over from her childhood into her adulthood.

I so loved my sister from the very moment she was born… though I do admit I was insanely jealous of her. She was feisty and she loved to be surrounded by others. She was outgoing, she loved to have friends around… and she had an adorable sense of style that got better as she got older. She had this amazing olive toned skin that stayed just a tiny bit tan year round, and if she did get out in the sun, she was beautifully sun”kissed”. In many ways, I was the opposite… I so loved my alone time, listening to music, writing poetry, and singing. It worked out perfectly because we shared a bedroom, and we actually shared a bed… so since I was a homebody, it worked great that she was not. And sadly, I did not have that olive tone skin that I envied her for! —- Just a side note… The differences are there even as we age. I take after Mom’s side and have grayed prematurely and am nearly completely white headed… NO JOKE! Lol, I am literally approx 80% white headed. Whereas my sister, having taken after Dad’s side, she has gorgeous dark hair, and while she does have some gray… I don’t think she would be considered even 10% gray. Lucky girl!! xo—-

We got into some fights (we’re sisters sharing a small amount of space… it is only natural for us to fight), and when I think about it, some of those fights absolutely shame me… what on earth would validate fighting someone I adore who is four years younger?? I don’t know why we would get into fights, or rather, what would trigger them, all I know is that we did.  I love my sister to death and there’s so many times I wish I could go back in time so I could fix the wrongs. Hurtful things were said, things that no doubt stick in her head, more-so than mine I’m sure. She did not deserve that.

One thing that is a vivid memory is that we use to grab the skin under our chins, (yes, the good ol’ gobble gobbler) and we would squeeze it so hard while saying to each other back and forth, “Whose the Queen?! Whose the Queen!?” We would pinch and squeeze and pull, and repeat those words until one of us caved in and tapped out so to speak… uttering “You are! You are the Queen!” Most times I would win, I was older, I was stronger, but there were times where she would win and then I would start it all over again to redeem myself.

My sister remembers this, and I found out a few years ago that playing that little so called “game” really hurt her… and much more so on a mental level. When she mentioned that, I apologized immediately for hurting her… and it hurts my heart still to know it hurt her in that way. We never speak about the past much, she doesn’t remember much, and I remember too much and wish I didn’t.

I love my sister…

I love her so much!!

As adults, we have come to have a much better friendship, and my love and respect for her continues to grow.

Growing up, it seemed that I would be successful and have my shit together. But, that has not proven to be the case. Though my sister had a bumpy start, she managed to go back to school for a career in the medical field. That was something I had wanted for myself, but never made it, dropping out of school a couple times and never earning a degree, certificate, or anything at all. Yet she accomplished that.

I am sooooooooooooooo proud of her hard work.

On top of that, she married and had children, and when her relationship failed, she walked away with her children and has never had to learn to live without her babies as I have experienced in my life. She has all of her children in her care… I envy that the most… but she has worked very hard to be where she is in her life, and it makes my heart swell with so much love and adoration.

In short, I am sorry my amazing sister… you deserved a better sister growing up… I hope that I have been able to make up for that, and I will continue growing… continue to make our relationship better, stronger, more loving and caring… I love you more than I can express… I adore you my seester!! Forever and evermore.





Always have been.


©bipolarmuse 2015

Teased Hair, Plastic Bracelets, & ‘Like A Virgin’… Missin’ the 80’s


I was so in love with Madonna during the 80’s. I absolutely loved to sing, and music was a big deal to me as far back as I can remember. I would memorize her songs and belt them out no matter who was listening. During this time, I was living with my Mom… and we happened to live with my grandparents. My Nann and Gramps were awesome, and aside from my Mom, (who was a young mother and usually a single one) they took care of us… they really were considered 2nd parents to me and my little sister.

Imagine my Gramps horror, as I (a pre-teen young girl just starting to “blossom”, and wearing a training bra) belted out, loud and clear, “LIKE A VIRGIN, touched for the very first time, like a vir-rrr-rrr-rrrgin, hey!” as I swung at my tether-ball, with the neighborhood kids (mostly boys), hanging out… and my little sister, not even school age, close by rollerskating on the enclosed covered patio… humming along with my ‘Like a Virgin’ rendition as she skated around in her adorable iceskating skirt, doing a little “roller-dance”. Hahahaha!! I am sure you can imagine how upset he was…and keep in mind that my Gramps was a very patient man, and it was very rare that his feathers got ruffled up… so I knew this was a big deal coming from him.

So, the next thing I know, I was told by my Nanny and my Mom, that I could not sing that song anymore… and I was given a new Madonna album, well actually, it was a NEW Madonna tape, hahaha yep… you read that correctly.

So, what did I do?? What any other Madonna adoring pre-teen would do, of course!!! I immediately started memorizing both the A and B side of the tape. I was lucky because we also had “cable” and I was able to watch MTV… back when MTV was what it said it was, “Music Television”, playing music video after music video, non-stop… and along with music videos like “Dress You Up”, and good ol’ “Material Girl”, I got to see “Papa Don’t Preach” for the first time. It became my favorite instantly!

So ‘Like A Virgin’ was replaced… much to my Gramps dismay, with my new favPapa Don’t Preach“… LMAO!!!!

I think at that point, he simply gave up.

I wanted to be Madonna. Seriously though… who wouldn’t?! As soon as possible, I collected bunches of plastic bracelets… and purposely wore clothes that didn’t match well. Sadly, that was the extent of my 80’s fashion (unless you count the teased sky high hair bangs kept frozen in place with some Aqua Net,meh- don’t judge me)… that era would pass me by, and at the very end, my hormones kicked in…

oh boy…

and with those devilish hormones, I welcomed 1990 with a new love~~~

the boy band “the New Kids On the Block”.

Ohhhhhhh yessssss.

They took over every thought in my head. Replacing my fantasies of being Madonna… and becoming my first celebrity crush.


I still would have liked to be Madonna… but now for a totally different reason.

I wanted to be her, because duuhh, surely their number was on her speed dial.

And if it wasn’t…

Well, she should make that shit happen!

I know I would of.


I think I should have an 80’s themed party very soon.

Hmmmmm… we just bought a new house… maybe I can have an 80’s themed house-warming party!!??!!

Oh yea… it is ON.

Like Donkey Kong… which is another 80’s thing…  wink wink.

©bipolarmuse 2015

Am I This Fat and Ugly, or Is It My Hypothyroid?



Years ago, I had a nodule on my right thyroid. Well, actually, I had a nodule on BOTH the right and left of my thyroid… but the right was twice as big, and the concern at that time.

Needless to say, I had to have a fine needle biopsy.

♥ Happily, it was benign. No probelm.♥

A couple years passed, and the nodules grew. Once again, the right side was the concern. Since I was having so many problems with it, I opted for the removal of the right side. My other option was to do another biopsy, and then based on the results, surgery. It had grown significantly… I didn’t want to deal with it anymore… so I chose to go ahead and do the surgery. Take that babay out!!

That turned out to be the best choice. No, it was not cancerous. However, what it was would have been grounds to turn around and perform the surgery to remove it… so I skipped a step, and was a step ahead.

It turned out being a benign “follicular adenoma”… which apparently cannot be ruled “benign” by just a sample provided by the process of “fine needle aspiration”… they needed to see the tumor, and the surrounding tissue, to be able to make a proper diagnosis… to rule out the big C.

So as a whole, I saved myself a “hole”… HAHAHA.

I was told that my left thyroid would step up and function for the right that was removed… and it certainly did. I had ZERO problems with it even years after my surgery. Then, a stupid medication jacked it up… grrrrrrrrr.

I had a series of mental breakdowns, and was put on lithium to battle my bipolar disorder. The combination was actually Lithium, Depakote, and Wellbutrin… with Klonopin to help with panic attacks, overall anxiety, and insomnia. This combo killed my thyroid! Well, at least the Lithium did. }:/    I went into a spiral of depression, and exhaustion… managing to get out of my pajama’s for about 4 hours of the day. My weight packed on in a matter of days…. literally….  I kid you not. I went from 118lbs (my norm on my petite frame), to 155lbs in about a months time, IF that long. Even though that weight packed on quickly and easily, getting it off was a totally different story. It took time… lots of it… and a shit-ton of effort. I see myself going down that path again… as my frame cannot handle this weight. So I have a new issue to handle… my weight… OOOOoooooo, and trust me, I don’t take this lightly. I cannot handle feeling so heavy, feeling so self-conscious, feeling ashamed and avoiding mirrors… and shaking my head at myself in disappointment when I do manage to catch a glimpse of my fat self. ~Sigh~

So since my thyroid has betrayed me… whether on its own, or with the assistance of the psych meds, I do not know… but the results are just the same. After another confirmation blood test, I will happily fill my script! In fact, I will make sure I have a bottle of water on hand so I can take the medicine instantly! Then, hopefully within a month or two, I will get back to my normal size and I will feel better about myself, maybe I will start feeling pretty again…

I hope…

I miss feeling pretty.




©bipolarmuse 2015

The Silent Treatment

In my younger years, I had to deal with the silent treatment all the time. My first “love” used it all the time… and now that we are nearly 40 and not 16, sad to say, he still uses it. This is probably the MAIN reason he is no longer my “love”. I have never even contemplated it as a blog post because it is no longer an issue I deal with in my life… but, I am a bit mistaken.

He (Mr. Silent Treatment) and I have children together… two very grown children. They are now 20, and 19yrs of age and are embarking on their own lives, attending school, working, just living and figuring it out as they go along.

Well, the silent treatment has found its way back into my life… courtesy of my “adult” daughter. So I decided to do some research about it to try to combat this issue and get communication flowing again. What I am learning has shocked me and I have to say that it makes complete sense… though I am still at a loss over how to “fix” this.

So, to keep these posts from becoming novels, I will break it up into two, or three posts. So stay tuned!

If you are someone who uses the silent treatment… please know that this is extremely hurtful, and it is very damaging. It is NOT effective communication. If you are using this to “punish” someone, it will have a bad ending… maybe not today, maybe not in a couple months, but it will. And you will have nobody to blame but yourself.

Anxiety? “It’s All In Your Head” Naysayers



Today is suppose to be a fun light-hearted post, courtesy of the Muse on HUMP Dizzle!! But nooooooooo. I shall try to post something more “fun” in just a bit, but I wanted to address something.

Do you get anxiety?? Ya know…. the debilitating kind that makes you pull over on the freeway because you are seeing black “spots” and feel on the verge of passing out??? Well, I do. I have for many years… and while it is better than at other times in the past, it is insanely debilitating all the same.

Now… ever meet Mr/Mrs. Sunshine, the ever optimistic do-gooder born under a lucky star… never having experienced depression “just because” that is how their brain sometimes does… and never having experienced anxiety or a panic attack…?? I have met some of those people… and mental health is a topic to be avoided with people like this. You will only go blue trying to explain it, you will become crazily frazzled, and you will walk away knowing that they are a lost cause. These people see the silver lining to their car being stolen… with their 4 kids in it.


I really hate when these individuals pretend to be concerned… and when you tell them you simply cannot do something that would seem easy to them, and they just don’t get it, and out of there mouth, without fail, (said in a condescending voice with all authority and perfection) … “It’s mind over matter, you just have to put your mind to it and do it”…


~I wanna choke those words out of there mouth.~ Shit, I bet they may understand anxiety if that happened… but then again, I’mmmmmmmm not so sure. (Shakes head in disbelief).
I want someone to make them drink 10 espresso’s and inject them with epinephrin… and then tell them, “mind over matter… come on, its not that hard, just control your mind, meditate, do deep breathing exercises”… THEN they may learn.

Cause those like me, well we already know– THAT’S NOT EASY TO DO IS IT?!–

I do NOT have to drink caffeine and get injected with adrenaline for that to happen…. MY body and mind like to malfunction and give me hell. NO NEED for any outside source. It is insane. I sit here, and I can completely FEEL little “dumps” of adrenaline, followed by an odd fluttering sensation in my chest… for what you ask??

For NOTHING. It just does. As quickly as it comes, it vanishes…

If you are just a friend or loved one who is just trying to understand better… if someone you love experiences severe anxiety, and severe panic attacks, and it isn’t something you experience personally, please, please … do not belittle the situation. Do not tell them it is “all in their head”. Do not make it sound like all they need to do is sit and practice breathing exercises… (yes, these can help with practice, but it is not overnight, and it does not get rid of them completely).

What ever you do… Do not make it seem their emotions, their fears, are not valid. This will simply worsen the situation, possibly making YOU personally a ‘trigger’ for future anxiety episodes. Wouldn’t that suck when all you are trying to do is help??

© bipolarmuse 2015

My Extra Heart Beat


There was a time during 2008 and 2009 when I was under severe amounts of stress that I could not escape from, and no matter how hard I tried to “calm” myself and use “mind over matter”, I could not get it in control. This was the kind of stress that kills people, I am sure. It is a long story so let me condense it for you.

My ex, who was my husband at the time, was deployed when I was 37 weeks pregnant with our daughter. The doctors would not induce, and there was no way to delay the deployment. So, when I was to go in and give birth, I did so all alone. Once I was home, my fears over powered me completely. I developed an irrational fear that I very well may die, leaving my itty bitty baby and her older brother at home with nobody to care for them. I know that seems so crazy, but it truly was a thought I could not get out of my head… and I started going crazy. I became sick with every bite of food, losing 45lbs in 4 weeks. My blood pressure was through the roof and had to go on anti-depressants, anxiety medicine, and blood pressure medicine. I feared for my life every second of every day.

Needless to say, I could not sleep. Every time I started to doze off, I would jerk myself awake because if I allowed myself to sleep, I wouldn’t know if I were to have a pulmonary embolism, and if I did, my babies would be all alone until someone beat down the door… and how long would that take?? I know the fear was completely irrational, but mentally, I could not convince myself of how insane my brain was being.

What were the signs of this extreme stress? Aside from being unable to keep food in… I could hear, and feel, my heart beat, constantly, and I could HEAR every time it seemed irregular.


Of course, I thought that perhaps seeing a cardiologist would put my mind at ease, and so I did just that and got an appointment instantly. The cardiologist performed several tests including a stress test and he also had me wear a halter monitor so my heartbeat could be recorded as I went along doing my normal activities in my day to day life. The results?? The Doc said, “Your heart is fine. You do have extra heartbeats, which is why you will feel that light “punch” that comes from inside, but I do believe that all of your issues will go away once you get your anxiety under control”.

You would think that a clean bill of health would put my mind at ease and the issues would go away, right?


The pounding of my heart continued to scare me so much that my anxiety medicine didn’t even scratch the surface. I felt like it was a placebo… it did nothing. Literally nothing. I tried everything under the sun, and even used Ambien and Lunesta. Neither of them helped me sleep.

Normally, I have very vivid dreams… and at one point, I also practiced “lucid” dreaming, but because of the extreme stress and anxiety, listening to my heartbeat “swoosh” in my head 24 hours a day, sleep eluded me and it took years for me to begin dreaming again… 4 years after the fact. Let me repeat that… it took 4 YEARS for me to dream again. Imagine that. Imagine being terrified to fall asleep, imagine not getting enough sleep and going from several dreams a night to no dreams whatsoever month after month. Wishing to get over whatever crazy thing my brain was going through so I could live, and thrive, and to stop merely existing. To stop feeling so scared and like I was losing my mind. Imagine the crazy depression it caused.

That was my hell.

Then one day… it stopped. Just as quick as it came on, it went away. Not because of anything I did… it was on it’s terms, certainly not mine. The experience was unbelievable. A true testament to how I don’t have “control” over every single little thing. “Control” is an illusion. At any point and time, my brain is trying to get me.

Psychosomatic? Indeed. I was told so anyhow.

Do I still hear my heartbeat in my head?? Yes, from time to time. I have had instances where the “swoosh” came back, thudding, terrifying me and making me pray for it to go away… and luckily, it did go away fairly quick. I hope I never experience it to that terrifying level again, and I am so jealous of those who have never experienced those wicked beats… ignorance is bliss.

©bipolarmuse 2015

Why Am I “Losing Time”… I Certainly Don’t Have Much To Spare

Have you ever lost time?

Seems like a crazy question, doesn’t it?

Over the years, I have noticed “gaps” in time where I do not remember certain time frames, and certain events. Obviously this is my brains way of coping and surviving trauma, but what really ticks me off is that if it is going to happen, make it count and help me “lose” all the horrible life experiences that have taken their toll on my life and still cause my pain today. Stupid brain, get with it!!

What I am concerned with is that over the last few years, I am noticing those “gaps” in time, but now, others notice my time gaps as well.

We all might forget what we ate for breakfast, or what time a dinner party begins… but it is something different entirely when you don’t recall movies watched in a theater and at home. I am not talking about “forgetting” I watched a certain movie, plopping it into the DVD, and then realizing I did indeed watch it, I just forgot the name of it. No, I am not talking about something as simple as that.

What I am talking about is moments totally GONE. I repeat GONE. Asking my boyfriend to play the trailer to a movie I want to see, and then lovingly informed I had already watched it. I deny it and have him play the movie trailer anyways, and as I am watching it, it looks like a brand new movie I have NEVER seen. Again, I am told I have seen it and that, as a matter of fact, we had watched it at the movie theater down the street from our house less than two weeks ago.

No, he has to be wrong. I would certainly remember a zombie movie with Brad Pitt in it…. wouldn’t I??

You would think that at some point when re-watching the movie I “have already seen”, that I would recognize something, anything, during the nearly 2 hours of productions right? Yet, NOPE. I recall absolutely nothing other than stating 3 weeks ago that I wanted to see that movie.

One such movie was a kids movie… which my boyfriend would never watch on his own cause it isn’t his thing… and he swore up and down that we already watched it. I told him he had to be mistaken and that I had been wanting to see it for quite some time so I would certainly remember watching it. I turn it on and as a certain scene comes up, my boyfriend tells me what is coming up and even proceeds to tell me of the comment I had made during that particular scene in the movie. None of this is familiar at all… not even a fleeting moment of dejavu… it is as though I am watching it for the first time.

This type of “lost time” is quite scary to me. I don’t understand why it happens, I don’t know if something specific triggers it or if it just comes and goes as it wants.

I also get a weird feeling from time to time… and this TERRIFIES me… where I will be shopping or something, and I will glance up and look around, with panic creeping up quickly because I do not “recognize” where I am at. It only lasts for a moment or so and then I start calming down. Why does this happen??

I understand when I lose time over a time frame or a horrible past moment… that makes sense… I know my brain can’t cope, so it resorts to that in order to survive… but why in the world would I lose time during normal day to day living that is not traumatic in any way. It always feels “tragic” without my children, but it isn’t painfully traumatic, mournfully traumatic… just tragic because I do not want to live without them with me, but I am forced to do so.

So why is this happening?

I have ruled out medications, leaving pretty much nothing else to question. Are these early signs of Alzheimer’s or Dementia?

Oh my gosh, I hope not… I am not even 40 yet…

Just A Little Disclaimer**



When I began this blog, I was wanting to use it as a journal of sorts where I could just “bleed on paper” and write freely without censoring myself. Over time, people I know on a personal level are also aware of my blog and therefor have an insiders view to by mind. I don’t mind this at all… except… well, don’t make me feel as though I need to filter myself or censor myself. Please. Pretty please.

Understand that when I write, many of my posts began months ago, sometimes even longer… and many times, my writings are not about this very moment I am in… many times, I dive back in time to a certain memory, a certain feeling, a place in my mind… I write out my “ifs, ands, or buts”, I may dwell on something sad, or maybe on something that has you scratching your head and asking, “Haven’t you gotten over this yet”? The answer to that is… Yes, and No.

What I write about, and who I am are an accumulation of events… or moments rather… that have impacted me and have helped to shape and mold me into who I am right at this moment. All 37 years behind me have made me the Musey that I am. I write to release, I write because I enjoy writing and love to put on to paper what I cannot say with my lips, I write because I want to, and because I can.

Some things that I write about may seem like I am referring to a person when I am not at all. I often change my Bipolar disorder into a “being”, personifying it… turning it into a crushing presence resembling what can only be in human form… when of course, it’s not.

I do the same with many other aspects and battles in my life.

It may seem as though I linger too lovingly, obsessively, over a past person, a past trauma. Again, remember that my writings are often about a certain time, or time frame… where I surrender to the thoughts in my head, fitting for that time. A moment recollecting “time”, and handing myself over in that rare moment, to sink back to a realm allowing myself to feel, to close my eyes and forget for a moment, this place… and to hand myself over to the intense wave of emotions, good and bad, that rode passenger to the specific moment in “time” that I am visiting to tap into my craft… the muse’s to my heart, departing and healing with each visit… in which these very words fall perfectly from my mind in this experience, to my lips to share here with you.

So please, always keep this in mind as you read… because I truly do want to share openly what I can comfortably share, and that which at times may be uncomfortable as well, and I want to do so feverishly. I have a flame inside. I want to use it… to scorch my heart and soul, feeding the flame, so that it may purify… scorching those painful moments, purifying me… so that I may continue forward with a clean slate, as a “whole” Muse.

Times Defining Moments

The mental pain is becoming worse with each day that passes. I am back to being tearful daily and I have to work so hard to try to remain present… to chase those thoughts that crush me from my mind.

That heaviness in my chest is little by little stealing my breath… my breath that wreaks ” the stench of regret”.  For a long time there was a single defining moment in my life… B’s suicide. Life became a “before” and “after” of that traumatic experience… nothing could touch the destruction of my mind and my heart… nothing felt nearly as painful, nothing compared to the agony. His suicide stole my happiness, stole my hope, killed my spirit.

Now I have noticed that life has given me a 2nd single defining moment in time… “before” and “after” destroying my life a second time including the abuse my son suffered by a monsters hand… “before” and after my breakdown… “before” and “after” 2009. It is sad that time holds me prisoner to the heartache.

I have been struggling alot lately. My mind is going a million miles an hour… and my only relief comes in the form of sleep. I am very grateful that the medications I am on help to knock me out day in and day out. Sometimes it becomes so exhausting that I sleep all day… and then all night. My dreams can haunt me at times, but for the most part… it is relief. ~sigh~

The struggle is tough…

I was lucky that for a time there I was able to get rid of one of my psych meds, but that was short lived and I am now back on that medication. I feel like a druggie… living life under the veil of medication. But I must do it to live. I haven’t a choice in the matter and it is something I just need to get over. Just because I have to take it does not mean I am weak, or a failure. It just is what it is… and who is keeping score anyways.

It just is.

The Monster I Loathe…


I have been struggling lately and it is crushing. My chest is heavy, my eyes are tearful, all I want to feel is painless mentally and physically… I want to be numb. I totally understand how many people with mental issues have substance abuse problems as well. Sometimes it comes to the ancient  question of what came first, the chicken or the egg?

My heart hurts and my mind keeps diving into the past causing me to have “flashes” of moments that hurt me to my core, to my very soul. I want to go back in time and slap the shit out of myself… I want to yell and scream, I want to release my rage and rid myself of the monster on my back. I want to go back to a time when I did not know hate. To a time when my blood didn’t run cold. To a time that just one change, would have prevented this pain. Could it have been prevented?

My brain has me hostage. I hope with all my heart that God is real… and I hope He can remove this unhealthy brain and show me what it is to be pain free… to feel content, to show me what it is like to replace tears of pain and heartache to tears of happiness.

Life is brutally beautiful. It is happiness, and it is alot of pain as well. Those painful moments help us to recognize and appreciate the good… right? I absolutely hate to lose sight, and I feel like just that is happening.

I feel like my only reprieve is sleep. And luckily, the medications I am on help me to sleep very well. I am very appreciative for that little miracle. I know just how destructive it is to lack in sleep… it is horrible and makes life so much harder.

It is what it is, right? Life that is.

Another day down…

I will just pop another pill and hope for a numbing moment where I can sit here truly in the present and appreciate the good I do have instead of lingering in my head where there’s a constant reminder of the regret that swallows me whole.

I just want happiness to be the basis of my being.

Is that too much to ask for?