“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.

YOU.

ARE.

THE.

QUEEN.

Always have been.

xo

©bipolarmuse 2015

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

Madonna_80s_Fashion

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.

new-kids-on-the-block-20090130-488833

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.

Hahahaha!!!

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?

ugly

 

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.

I

Miss

Me

©bipolarmuse 2015

THE BITCH…

Ha! Love this new blog… cracks me up, and I think the writer is possibly disturbed…. just a little…

bfkm1

The Bitch… No its not  a/my bitch. I have multiple firearms but the bitch is my favorite. Along with the only firearm I have named. The Bitch, I thought was a name appropriate moniker to any one or any thing on the business end of her (yes I anthropomorphize a lot, but not of a child like quality). She is my firearm to replace all firearms in my meager arsenal. Short barreled for close quarter encounters, enough round capacities to not worry about vulnerabilities from constant magazine changes. Powerful enough to go the distance and shoot through pretty much anything I need it too without crazy custom rounds. I’ve read arguments against this rifle, mostly made by dried up old dick lickers lacking in experience, leading to even more of a lack of analytical thinking for an all, or when shit hits the fan gun. Once again, I tend to go on long tangents then remember my place…

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Counter-Dependence The Disease Model

It seems these days that everything can be labeled as a “disease”. Any type of “compulsive behaviors related to food, drink, sex, relationships, or activities such as gambling, smoking, working, or shopping as a disease.” – The Flight From Intamacy

This subject is quite interesting and I encourage you to do some research on your own, to see it with your own two eyes, and to process the info out there which is amazingly tainted by opinion much more than by facts, evidence, and proof. The evidence is not there to convince you without a doubt that the disease model helps… and it seems that those who are force feeding this idea down our throats… they are the ones benefiting… monetarily of course.

Interestingly, almost any behavior indulged in to an excessive level, and/or at a compulsive level… and in which can have harmful affects to oneself or to others… it is referred to as an addiction… which in turn, is automatically defined as a disease. Who gains the most from this concept?? Treatment clinics and insurance companies.

The disease model is dangerous. It limits us, removes power from us, and it holds us prisoner. We hand our diseased self over to the medical community, and allow them to take control of our recovery. We essentially become our disease. Identify with it.

While there is some good that comes from the disease model concept, there happens to be A LOT wrong with it. I encourage you to do your own research… dive in to the wealth of information out there to take the good you find, and put it to work for you, for your personal growth. As for the bad that you will come across?? Let it disappear into the world of the internet when you close out your browser. No need to dwell on it. Just click the little red x at the top of the page…

©bipolarmuse 2015

Counter-Dependence Self Quiz

Skills For Recovering Your True Self

Counter-Dependency Post Three

Counter-Dependence “I never was super woman!”

Counter-Dependence Intro

“Catch Yourself Complaining”….

GoWithFlow

“See if you can catch yourself complaining, in either speech or thought, about a situation you find yourself in, what other people do or say, your surroundings, your life situation, even the weather. To complain is always nonacceptance of what is.” – The Power of Now Inspiration Cards

WOW.

I hope that speaks volumes to you as it does to me.

Each “complaint” is resistance to what IS. Resistance causes friction. It is in that, that we fight and find ourselves going against the flow, making every part of life more difficult.

Practice this acceptance of what is each and every day… “watch” our mind, our thoughts, and take note of the complaining, work to stop it from the start… and I truly believe we will become that change that we desperately seek… We will stop resisting our true ‘self’. We will begin to accept what is.

We will find who it is we need… and come to see we were there all along.

Radical acceptance is the key. What do you do if you do not like your situation?? CHANGE IT. ~ If that cannot be done, we must accept it. ~ When we stop resisting, we see how much easier it is to “go with the flow of life”.

Learn to ride those waves, you will find that is a big difference from allowing them to pummel you into the ocean floor.

Ride.

Thrive.

© bipolarmuse 2015

Who??

I have been growing, healing, and some things have changed in importance. I am jumping for joy that this change came about and it wasn’t something I had to think long and hard about… it came totally naturally. I am healing… we are all healing… and I no longer have the need to scream the monsters name from the rooftop… my son has healed. My son is happy. THAT is ALL that is important. ♥

bipolarmuse ♥

For many years I felt the need to name the person responsible for abusing my amazing little boy… I HAD to scream it from the rooftops! Why? Well, partially because it was the only way to heal myself, and partially because I felt like it was the only justice my little boy would ever have. After all, it was this abuser who would sadistically remind me (with a disgusting smirk on his face, sweat drenching his clothes, dripping from his hair, and covering his face and forhead) that NOBODY would believe he hurt a child. Seriously pause and imagine that a moment…….. he literally said this to me several times before the restraining order went into affect, and then I was reminded one last time, with the restraining order in hand…his words, “Nobody will ever believe I hurt a child“.

That was the fuel for my fire.

It…

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A Poetic Memoir Of My Journey Through Life

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