Depression Sucks, So Give It The Finger

I have been depressed this entire year. Yup; from before the first second until now. Through now.

However……..

I put chocolate syrup in my coffee today. I had a bitchin’ bowl of homemade stew. Callista is wearing a Hello Kitty nightgown while doing her school work. I have a mohawk I love, friends I love, family I love. I don’t live where I want, I don’t have everyone here that I want. The past year and a half has been incredibly painful and difficult in ways words cannot describe. But I am still here, I am still smiling (now with 100% MOAR TEETHS, as Scott put it), and every day is another chance to pick my stubborn ass back up, dust off, and keep skipping along with a twinkle in my eyes. Or crawling with a twinkle, on the bad days.

I may seem happy most of the time.. and once upon a time, I was. It is not easy maintaining a positive outlook, especially when I was 100% negative until 8 years ago, but I am positively sure I don’t give two shits how hard it is; this hooker abides.

I can’t explain it, but I feel yesterday and today are vital turning points in the struggle (I have partially subjected myself to) of the past 18 months or so. Hard days are inevitable. Depression, for me, is inevitable. ACCEPTING either without busting ass to change them are not. So bring on the bright sparkly whatevers, and bust out the toothy grins, bitches, and make today what you will. xo

Depression isn't the killer - our choices are.

Depression isn’t the killer – our choices are.

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Life: Are You Experienced, Baby?

I have most often lived my life in a purposeful state of casual deliberation.  I do very few things accidentally, and I have precious few regrets.  At the end of each day, the lack of regrets allows me to sleep better, dream better, live better.

We live in a world of lost opportunities, missed connections, not stepping forward, keeping our mouths closed when we should shout from the rooftops.  We live in a world of mice-like scurrying form one destination, job, experience, love, new thing to the next.  We are far too often concerned with getting to the next experience, place, thing and not at all concerned with enjoying the one we are currently in, and this cheapens the very existence of our life.

This is not, at all, to state new experiences are a waste.  No, dear reader! this is to express the idea that we can enjoy the experience we are in now without longing for the next right away.  We are so busy telling ourselves we are sucking all the marrow out of life that we frequently do not see we are, in fact, overlooking the bones for the next great conquest before we have even began to enjoy the current one.  Part of winning, friends, is knowing how to enjoy the win, no matter how large or small.  The joy of a journey may be in the journey itself, but we can also enjoy the destination for a spell before moving on.  Part of the journey is enjoying arriving, after all; reveling in how we got there and what brought us to that point.

I have often heard people reminisce on their lives rather woefully, stating they feel so empty, despite having whatever society tells them they must have (specific job, spouse, kids, house, etc), despite having loving friends, family and companions, despite having a great job, car, house, whatever.  We are so busy trying to attain the next thing, the next level of life we’re told we should want that we don’t sit back contentedly, stare at what we have accomplished, and say “god damn right. This is great.”  And you know what?  We damn well should.  Look at you, motherfucker!  Here you are, alive and thriving, and doing your damn thing.  You’re surviving in a world that doesn’t give two shits or a fuck about you.  You are making it even when you think you are failing.  How is that? Because you are still fucking here, fighting to come back up for air even when you’re drowning.  You’re a bad ass motherfucker, and don’t you dare ever let anyone tell you differently.

As I stated, I have precious few regrets.  If I took an action, chances are I do so deliberately whether I thought it through beforehand or not.  I do not regret my decision; I simply make the best of the consequences and move on.  I wallow in some things, but not very many.  Well, I do not even wallow so much as mourn a loss of a person or opportunity.  If I fuck up, I try to make it better.  If I cannot make it better, I say my peace and move on.  I do not have “what might have been” issues, mainly because I would not be where I am NOW had my past run another route.  I am not, by any means, happy all the time.  I am not content with my job nor place of residence nor romantic liasons nor a dozen other minutia of my life, but I am working on those.  I do not wish to be content as for me that promotes stagnation, but I am working towards more peace in my heart regarding my station in life and how I perceive it.  You see, my life is not bad, it is simply not how I want it to be in many ways.  Therefore, I work to resolve those trivialities so I can be more relaxed and at ease at the end of my day.  I do not regret; I bust ass to resolve.

Though I admit I do have a few regrets.

Several years back, I had two abortions.  Now some people would say they regret that infinitely.  I do not.  Why?? Because they saved my life.  Yup, that’s right; they saved my life.  I had already gone in for my yearly exam recently when I had one.  I had to go back, after, for a pap smear to verify everything was okay and it was found I had pre-cancerous cells in my cervix.  I went in for another two weeks later, and it had developed in to full-blown cancer.  I was whisked away and had an (at the time) experimental laser surgery to remove several layers of tissue.  The surgery is run-of-the-mill now, but at the time it was new and terrifying.  But I survived.  I am alive.  And I went on to give birth to a precocious daughter who drives me batty and gives me hugs and kisses and cuddles even when we want to scream at each other.  {{grins}}  So, you see, even those actions that we might want to regret can lead to good things..  I can be upset at my choice, or I can be grateful for the long-term outcome.

And that is part of the problem with people and their warped mindsets today.  We are in such a downward spiral of instant gratification that we have no real concept of the long game any more.  We want more, to do more, to see more, to experience more, to LIVE more rightnowdamnit so much, we quit really living.  We go through so damn many experience, but how many of you actually experience your life as opposed to trudging through it looking for The Next Big Thing?

Most of us don’t.  We’re so concerned with providing for our children’s futures after we’re gone, and getting that new luxury car and impressing X people and partying on the weekends to shake off the emptiness or frustration at the week and jumping from relationship to relationship (in regards to both friends AND lovers) and finding a new living room set every two years, and.. I can go on.  Fuck all that.  I mean, leave a little something for your kids in the positive instead of all bills, if you can, but how about you spend some of that money NOW on an experience TOGETHER that you can all enjoy?? go on a family Disney cruise.  Go to Great Wolf lodges. Go to Hawaii, to Ireland, to Japan, to the damn beach down the road, to something together NOW.  Make memories, not plans.  Our lives are an in-progress motion picture we cannot rewind or fast forward.  If we press stop, we can’t press play again.Our lives are a series of memories we can hold on to when the stresses of our responsibilities become too much and we need a little moonlight to guide us out of the troubled turbulent waters.  Our memories are what we have left when the experience is over, and sometimes revisiting those memories, eyes closed, smiling, is a good way to spend some time, to fully taste and savor the delicate blending of smells, colours, emotions that an experience can give us if we truly dive in to it and enjoy it for what it is.  If we truly experience the now, we can go back and re-live it over and over and over, until our eyes close for good.  When you truly experience something, you get to carry it with you.

Why do we wallow in the hurtful experiences by fly through the good ones, trying to get to the next?? Nah, man.  Feel the hurt, the pain, the heartbreak, the mourning.. but give just as much time and as many emotions to the positive.  When you smell that fucking flower, you close your god damn eyes and take that scent with you to your grave.  You feel those jumping happy fuckin’ butterflies in your stomach so you ALWAYs have a spring in your step, even if you get to the point of no longer being able to walk.  You take the memory of jumping in puddles with your kid with you until you are nothing more that flecks of dust flung back in to the cosmos.  Don’t rush through it.  Don’t overlook it.  Don’t you dare take that god damn moment for granted.  You live each moment deliberately, with happy fuckin’ abandon, and don’t you dare regret or overlook the good or bad that brought you to this exact moment, this exact time, this exact place, this exact experience.

How at the moon. Live your god damn life like you motherfucking mean it.

Take in every experience, no matter how big or small.

Take in every experience, no matter how big or small.

Mawwaige Is What Bwings Us Togevvuh, Today!

My daughter, 8, asked me (via written message on a whiteboard, complete with yes/no check boxes) if I am going to marry a specific someone one day. Which she followed up with a note asking me to not be mad at her asking, she was just curious. (No worries, dear reader, I told her in no uncertain terms she can ask me anything any time and I will answer to the best of my ability…and I will not be upset over the asking of questions.) This got me thinking, as the topic of marriage usually does.

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Love is a Many-Splintered Thing, Part 2

My last blog entry was about love.  Well, I would like to follow up that entry with an addition.

A few days ago, a Facebook friend posted this screenshot:

A wonderful example of not letting the world change who you are.

A wonderful example of not letting the world change who you are.

This screenshot made me tear up a little, because it is a wonderful example of love in its simplest most pure form.  Allow me to explain why, in light of my previous post.

We are flawed, each of us.  We are products of our environments, the people around us, how we are raised, how we are treated, the information we learn, the horrors and joys we witness throughout our lives.  But mostly, we are a product of our own choices.  We CHOOSE to change who we are based on the factors listed above, and more.  Who hurt us and how, who we hurt and how, daily nuisances and successes, et cetera.  Simply, we are the end result of what we choose to allow to affect us, and how we choose to let it affect us.

(Read more below.  It is worth your time, promise..)

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Anxiety Attacks and drowning in the ocean…

It’s funny how, being classified as bipolar, when I get stressed enough, I stim like someone with autism, asbergers, Tourette’s, etc. And yes, I’m spelling shit all sorts of wrong, and, at the moment, I could give two fucks or a shit less about that or grammatical errors. I have been having fairly intense stims somewhere around an hour. For those of you who suffer from any psychological prizes (hey, let’s call it something fun, instead of a disorder!!), you know how utterly motherfucking god damb exhausting they can be. Just…life-draining. And when I stim, I tic like a motherfucker. Scratching, rubbing my fingers, hitting myself, rocking back and forth,openingand closin gmy mouth,s ieltn screams, rapid blinking, rapid eye movement, tapping, sometimes sounds.. I get a nice lovely run of the stim spectrum. LUCKY ME. Thankfully, it’s only when I am incredibly super HOLY FUCKSHIT stressed the motherfuc out. And I have been..

This time of year is always pretty fucking tough on me. Starting at the beginngin of July through about the first week of August. I adopted a son out the day he was born, August 4th, 2004. And starting about a month before, I just………sink. I sink beneathe the waves of.. everything. Sounds, tastes, touches, feels. thoughts, breaths, leaves, colours, life itself. I have to keep busy. God damn, do I have to keep busy. I will cut a fuckin gentire yard with a god damn pair of scissors if that is absolutely all I have I can do to keep busy. Today, I rearranged my entire livibng room. That may not seem like much, but I had to vacuum and spray for spiders, too, because I have apparently gained an infestation of cute cuddly wolf spiders. Absolutely adorable, not lethal to most folks, but their bites suck big bulbous elephant balls. And I don’t like things randomly crawling on my face for me to squash. Yes, this has happened. And these motherfuckers are fast as hell. Look them up. Shoo, spider, you belong outside. Assholes. Anyw ay. This involved moving one 32″? television that is somewhere around 75-100 pounds off a 2′ high stand across the room.. rearranging 2 oversized loveseats and an oversized couch, moving two old-school studio speakers (the 4′ tall heavy as fuck type), the tv stand and putting a 42″? 75″ television back on the fucking stand. Alone. While dodging fucking spiders and keeping the kid busy. Whereupon I also found a tote I forgot about, seeing how it was cleverly disguised as a side table (don’t ask) and I found old birthday cards. And pictures.

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On this, my deceased father’s birthday, an update of importance, if only to me.

I have been conspicuously silent the past few months, and for good reason. Things in my life have, at points, come to a screeching halt, and at other times they have sped so far out of control, I wanted to yell LETMEOFFLETMEOFFLETMEOFF. This has definitely been a year of upheavals and trials, for sure.. though it has also been a year for good revelations, smiles, laughter, love, dancing, blah blah all that sweet shit.

Where to start? not the beginning this time, Dear Reader. Not this time.

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Bucket Lists

I have never truly understood the point of bucket lists. To me, they are the last vestiges of a life lived unfulfilled, a last chance dash to do all the shit before you die you refused to take the chances to do before it became nearly too late. Once, they were lists of “things to do before I die” utilized by the aged or terminal. Now it seems every teenager not yet out of high school has one.

Don’t get me wrong; I am ALL for setting goals, both attainable and lofty. But this shit is just ridiculous. What became so wrong with just living your fucking life, every day, to the fullest possible for that day? Is that not worthy enough a goal? Hell, the gods know it is about as lofty as one can get!

Let me explain why I have no bucket list…

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