... The Storm

I am much calmer today. I am finally recovering from a serious hang over. I am not perfect. A whole lot of anger, induced by sleep deprivation, mixed with a whole lot of wine and an emotional conversation with a girlfriend, can sure stir up some deep seated insecurities.

I was caught up in purely my own suffering and oblivious to Bryson's own need to sleep to go to work. I felt like what I needed was most important and that he should care about it as much as me and put himself on the back burner. For an amount of time that I am uncertain of because it was in "wine time," all I wanted was for him to make me feel better, to help me fall asleep, to say kind words and understand that I understand he can't help his snoring, but it adds to my stress with insomnia. It all made sense in my head, but I have no idea what my tone was or what specifically I said. sigh.

All I know is that when someone I love and trust and look to for comfort, calls me crazy when I am suffering, I become one ranting pissed off chic. This morning when I read my last two posts I almost wanted to delete them. Then I thought to myself, no f*ck it, it is a part of my reality and even in a moment of weakness it shows strength. Even though I had drank too much and was emotional, I had no desire to use drugs. (ok I DID wish I wasn't drunk and could at least take my advil PM) I had no desire to use illegal drugs or abuse another substance.

I still had the hate and resentment of meth even though I had drank too much and I chose to write and express my anger rather than continue to fight with Bryson. There were the ugly words exchanged and then we left it alone. There was no crazy yelling. There was no ugly scene for the kids to wake to. That is such a different place then arguments of past relationships. I am so thankful for this relationship.

This morning we talked about it. We  both expressed our feelings in a non-blaming way and we both listened. We both apologized for the part where our actions turned irresponsible, unthoughtful, disrespectful, or hurtful.

We also brainstormed solutions and took action. He has breathe right strips to try. I have an Rx for trazadone to help me get to sleep. He is going to take extra care to listen for Victorya in case the meds work too well and I can't hear her.

We have agreed that if these steps don't work, we are going to get a twin bed to put in the office so that no one needs to sleep on the couch and there will be no hurt feelings that we sleep in separate rooms until I can start sleeping again.

I am so thankful for the capability to do the next right thing and to know that our lives are not perfect, but that makes me appreciate living it that much more.

Reality: the hardest blow

Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer. -Sun Tzu

Just when I thought my best friend would show up. Just when I thought I was not alone in the universe... and I thought HE would be here... I was met with the hardest words I could hear from someone, especially Him. "What do you want ME to do? It is not MY fault YOU can't sleep, YOU are crazy!"

He who sleeps peacefully, snoring,  and NEVER worries about the wellbeing of his daughter (or all of her previous 29 months of existence) because the "crazy" betrayed, isolated, bi-polar, orphaned chic, that you happen to sleep with once in a while, has it covered. You trust the "crazy" chic with your baby, sober or not.  (OH AND she has TWO orphaned children that mar your existence and pay your way with their SSI.) Your  baby's momma, can't sleep, does all the emotional work and your laundry and sugar coats your existence. Fuck your paycheck, YOU are crazy. What do you want ME to do?

Dear Insomnia and Sleep,

Insomnia, I am done being nice. I fucking hate you. You are unwelcome. My best friend, sleep, is your nemesis, and I refuse to take your side. Real friends have given me weapons that your sneaky ass is demolishing. Breathing, and meditation, (maybe even misinterpreted as mediation), and even my non-religious prayer; all close friends of mine; introduced by many trusted allies, and widely accepted here, are being rejected by your demoralizing presence. Wine and PM pills do not defeat you and further my frustration. Easy sleep (and DREADFUL EVIDENCE of snoring) by loved ones is mistaken as my misfortune because of your powerful grip. You bastard. Why would you steal my best friend, sleep? Sleep is so much safer than my other vices? WHY are you testing me. Sleep used to be my ONLY vice. Did I test you with my meth/awake addiction?
Are you jealous that I only needed to be awake in moderation as I became healthy? Why are YOU testing me?

Sleep, you are not like meth. I can fucking survive without you, that dirty whore showed you that. Insomnia, why are you even competing when you know sleep was always my favorite? Sleep, I didn't mean to betray you. I want you back. I LOVE YOU SLEEP.

Sleep, I love you and I miss you, please believe me.

Inertia and Momentum

It seems to me that I am unequivocally being affected by the laws of physics.




Getting to sleep has been a nightmare. Getting out of bed equally as frightening. I have been using Tylenol PM and it slowly gets me to sleep and gives me about 3 hours. From that point on, I suffer through countless periods of semi-conscious racing thoughts mixed with brief periods of sleeping with lucid dreams. By the time morning comes and I SHOULD just get up, I have argued enough with my conscious mind to convince myself that if I stay in bed for just a half hour more I might fall asleep. I SHOULD be waking up my 2 year old to get her on a better schedule now that Bryson is working days. 


Instead, I watch her sleep and breath peacefully, feeling envious and content at the same. I do not get up until she does, usually about noon, when she is enough reason to break my inertia and gives me just enough momentum to get up.


The rest of the day is filled with the usual array of family going ons. Clean the kitchen, get dinner ready, make her lunch (breakfast), kids home from school, homework, facebooking, blog reading,  friends over, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, diaper changing, eating, cleaning, and then comes the dreaded time that me and my 2 year old SHOULD be going to bed. I try not to think about it so that anxiety doesn't set in. I put a movie on for her, hoping she may fall asleep early, and promise myself I will wake her up early the next morning so that she will not want to stay up so late.


The rest of the house turns in and sleep comes for them almost immediately. The sound of my husband's snoring is infuriating at times because I am so jealous of his easy sleep. My 2 year old is joyful company, but even she cannot wait up with me. Sleep comes for her and I know that means morning is coming. I am afraid to stop going. My momentum tugs at me, urges me on. Ten minutes turn to twenty, my anxiety is at its peak.


 I take the Tylenol Pm. I lay down and search for the recognizable comfort and relief I am used to feeling when bedtime comes. It is not there. I kick my husband so he will change positions and relieve me of the burden of his snoring for a short while. I start my nightly dance with my racing thoughts, pleading for them to slow down. The cycle repeats and somewhere my momentum gives up, inertia sets in and its time to try to get up early again.


This cycle is making me feel crazy. I feel defeated. I have tried prescription sleeping pills in the past and I am super sensitive to them. Even half of the smallest dose puts me into a coma-like sleep. They are totally incompatible with the need to sleep and listen for my little one. Not that I have insurance or a Dr. to discuss medication options with. 


I am here and reading. My coherent thoughts don't feel worth writing lately. I can't find the words to comment very often. I am aware that I am in a depression cycle of my bipolar illness. It is a time where I use my depression tools. I go through the motions and do the things I don't feel like doing. These times are when introspect and feelings are potent, but I choose to put one foot in front of the other never the less. The emotional turmoil and anxiety are not severe enough to debilitate me. 


I know that this will not last forever. I know I can control small aspects of my happiness by making good choices. I still feel happiness and joy throughout the day. 










"An object at rest tends to stay at rest, and an object in motion tends to stay in motion." -Newton

Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil

my kids

Hear No Evil (Destin) See No Evil (Victorya) Speak No Evil (Aliviya)

tattoo on my left arm