Being Bipolar isn't EASY

and the Art of Slowing it Down

Tag Archives: Independence

I yield to God

Warning: The following is highly personal & daily LOVE from one of many fearless leaders blogging today

I yield to God or at least I think I can. How well or not well one knows one another has little bearing in SM (Social Media) IMO. Matters little where care/concern, voices/truths are expressed/considered. But alas there in lies my problem with the crickets (I LOVE your hearts): so much is wasted largely on part of keeping up with the Jone’s and FOMO (fear of missing out).

It’s a much more powerful tool than we allow. Try as I might to make it a better tool. A tool that I both need and want. A complete luxury, I am aware WordPress. You have my permission to go ahead & crown ME.

But ppl, you ppl, are so much better than Google in a land with few Western or English resources. I post here to work things out and am most grateful that you listen but I’d really like to chat more with you; listen to your advice.

Maybe look at my naivety this way? ATM moment for all intents and purposes I am nobody & have done little. I might have 1000 friends/followers between FB, IG & WP – some are duplicates – and that’s GREAT. Really great!

But Leo, The Nerdy Lion, here is most right!

All my blogging, posts, replies & personal and intimate emails (writing) with friends etc.. have been enough. I have found my Voice. I need not look ANY further.

I have most everything that I need besides your chirping lol and so I declined a suggestion to learn how to speak from the Heart (which I am to do in my writing) by taking a class. I’m just gonna write the fcuking book.

There I said it.

Now I have to do it! <inject utter & daunting fear> MVMB, now I have fear… If you follow me here – you know: vulnerability is my path.

I need not be normal nor popular. And I do not have the desire for approval nor recognition. Certainly nobody needs to give me permission. 🙂

But I do desperately desire to know if what concerns me resonates or makes one think or is supportive. It effects the keeping up with the Jone’s and the FOMO’s – a well known human behavior. But it took me so many years to understand that I do have it, because many of you that I follow here or elsewhere or have read etc. (you get the point) have it! So #thankyou.

I deeply thank you for your existence because, and I quote Dani Shapiro, it’s our job, our responsibility (good word responsibility), perhaps even our sacred calling to take whatever life has handed us.

I’m a REAL Princess

Drum roll please? …I’ve decided not to keep my Pen Name, Princess Marksalot. Not to bore you but, while I mourn through it, I’d like to share again that it did have meaning.

One of my Grandmothers, sweet Gma Kay, was an albeit far – lol – descendant of American Indian royalty (so that makes me a REAL Princess) and in Architecture School amongst other more figurative aspects of my life – I’m an editor. As embarrassing as it is, I never mustered a professional grade balsa wood model but I was voted most poetic. 🤗

And, those that follow me closely know that I’m always neurotically editing my Social Media posts, my blogs etc.. So I’ll give you a little insight. (I love being an open book.) I don’t think anything is ever FINAL – and as a Creative constantly designing… as if life’s demonstrable motto is, and everything that I do, an ever evolving work of Art – dare I say masterpiece???

Yeah, I know that that might sound a ‘lil grandiose (I am bipolar & I didn’t sleep much last night) but am most comfortable w/ that so feel free to sprinkle rainbow fairy dust on me, will ya??? I also love using a proverbial eraser ✏️ and the lead smudges that come with it. So do you get it now? Marks a lot???

Further I’m all abt Kintsugi pottery, hence the picture here. If you don’t know, as told by the Modern Gypsy: “Kintsugi is the Japanese art of mending broken objects using gold or silver epoxy. The Japanese believe that when something has suffered damage (and suffer mental damage I did/do) and has a history (that we all do too), it becomes more beautiful”. I see ME, my motto, really the same thing… so maybe I should have been Princess Kintsugi, always in a state of “golden repair”, but it’s kinda too late to change as I’ve been branded.

Those that matter will stay. Those that hate it will unfollow me. And that’s a-okay b/c I aim to show you that I care!! …get it marks a lot (of people). Quick – somebody call a doctor? I am delusional. 😂 😂 😂 I’ll shut up after I say this: it’s all so v personal – how to recover from Mental Illness, there is NO Cure! We’re all so v different.

Make me not belabor you but remind you of a little thing called DNA… So for those of you reading this that do not suffer, as poorly, mentally. We all suffer some IMO. We desperately need to get comfortable with this uncomfortable space.

We all really need to get past our insecurities, is that the right word, fear might be a better word… and talk abt Mental Health to bust the stigma. So say Goodbye to Princess Marksalot, with me – will ya?

I mean well. 🙏 your new & improving, Jessica Kaushik

The Devil is in the (Mental Health) detail, Mies

Don’t ask me why, but (I’m trying to use the word “but” less these days) I prefer to do things the HARD way. The very hard way!

I.e. It wasn’t until most recent years, and I just turned forty-four (44) that I learned to appreciate how our great big beautiful world works. How friends & family, including friends of friends and friends of family, can give you a ‘step up’, help you with that often ever so hard rung on the ladder.

If you can imagine I preferred to do things alone. ME, myself and I. It’s not that I’m not a collaborator. I am. I won’t use a superlative but most creatives need to be… it’s just that I never needed, scratch that – wanted – help. …I should clarify, the type of help that could maybe get one a job that one isn’t really qualified for.

…But now, @44, I am so very over “ME, myself & I” (if you have this/that neurosis – I encourage you to just STOP while your ahead & get over it now too), which brings me to the thought of the evening, It’s 1:04am where I am (I’m drinking coffee), and although I’ve written about the under cover agents/ physicians/ policemen that have haunted me in the past (Note to Reader: Maybe see there have also been angels, including President’s of the United States of America.

Yep!? That’s how bad this sh*t has gotten in the past), that have – are you sitting down? – stalked me. …Ooooooooooh! She just said it?!?!?!!? Ooooooooooh…………. is Princess Marksalot’s next mission to find out who her stalkers were/are?

And RED FLAG! RED FLAG!! …did she just use the word “are”?????


Mr. Remarkable, Honey, if your now on the other side of the world reading this, there’s NO need to panic and hop on a plane to come rescue me as you tried a few short weeks ago, but it’s true. Very true.

You may as well know THE TRUTH! I am so broken that ever since the very beginning in the Nation’s Capitol when I ran into George Washington Hospital, was it?, kicking & screaming “Protect ME, Protect my family”… you know the drill (Reader’s I elude to that fateful day often here in my posts) all of my MAJOR EPISODES and I guess very small ones, like we are experiencing now revolve around me being stalked.

Yes, that’s a fighting word. And a pretty legal term at that! It’s just that it breaks my heart to report that since that Labor Day weekend in 1999 or whatever (I can’t be bothered to cross-check & be most accurate ATM) …if I comes up in a Court of Law, I have the year. I remember the faces. The pendant… not!

Sadly, I CANNOT remember that pendant AND I desperately want to!!! The Activist & ever so Fashionista in me WANTS to wear a “pendant” of her own.

If I were a betting woman, I’d say it was GOLD! Solid gold. Every pun intended. (Note to reader: At the very least, I’d like to recover the DIY stained glass that I painted while talking to the pendant; I mean Art Support Staff. …like that’s ever gonna happen.)

But I digress. I’m not going to share my secret’s/ connections/ links via psychotic associations ATM, maybe not publically nor privately maybe not ever – a girl’s gotta hold onto something – rather (notice how I didn’t say “but” – insert grin) poke around here if your interested. Dappled in this blog are myriads of sites that I follow. Love Wiki. And/or some of my Hero’s, big & small – known and unkown.

Outside of these pictures that I often pilfer off the Internet, to visually articulate the title of my posts, I try very hard to give credit where credit is due.

That said. This, above, is a picture of my own. You can tell by the fingerprints. :) By the lot of marks. Ha! That’s a stretch. …Marksalot. I crack myself up & can be so v unintentionally cryptic. A beautiful ‘invisible single display book shelf’ from Barnes & Noble for less than 4USD.

Sadly, if you want one (1) of your own, you’ll have to run to the nearest store – as they were marked down 75% in the gift section in recent months.

It is a great way to make utterly beautiful Art. One just has to spend their money on the books! How very clever and poetic is the man/woman that came up with the idea. I hope he/she is absofuckinglutely rich by now. I have that their muse is wealthy…

I managed to acquire four (4). For ME. The lucky ME!

For a set of Edward Tufte’s four (4) graphic related books. Four (4) of these Saw somewhere; too tired to look for the link tonight but somewhere the Tufte organization makes a recommendation for his top four (4) best sellers, I guess.

Must publish this now & order them right quick! My mama wants me to “go back to bed”!?!?!?!? <insert sigh> She’s right.

Peace out people. /\

got a bathtub?


As I writhed in my bed, desperate to get back to sleep, after being rudely awaken by some noisy tourists the other night, my husband had a novel idea; he suggested that I take a bath!

??? It did not compute! That’s not something that I can recall doing since I was either pregnant or when my son was a newborn… Mind you, I take baths all the time, well every other day, BUT those are more work and most certainly not like the bath that I had then nor am having now, for pleasure!

If you haven’t taken a real bath, a water bath, in a while I don’t know how to impress upon you that you should. The title of this post is a play on the “got milk?” campaign & my feeble attempt to get you to take a water bath more. I for one am going to continue to try, perhaps not after I put my son to bed, that’s QT time for my hub and I, but after I wake up my computer in the middle of the night & write.

…but before I diminish what I do here let me share that frankly, it occurs to me that, my blogging is a mental bath! Writing cleanses my soul. Often I just have to get things off my chest in order to move on. If your like me I encourage you to try it all the more!

And with that comes the realisation that you may already do; there are many more blogs out there than we know about. My best friend has a blog, it’s old school & called a journal. It may very well be much more accessible to her than this here is to ME, as she keeps it in her purse, but I wonder if it’s as constructive!?

Although I envy her pen to paper, my journals were/are never constructive they were/are mere recordings and a place to bitch, whine & complain… I didn’t come to realisations the way that I do here when I write and I think that’s because I have you, an audience. I have someone to write for, someone to edit for. My blog challenges me to attempt to complete a thought, come full circle, find answers, suggest solutions…

It’s unrealistic, today as I’ve just rediscovered the water bath, to think that I am strong enough to suppress my extroversion and reach for the faucet first to cure my insomnia – often I feel that I am going to burst if I do not record myself, either verbally or in written form!? Writhing in bed, tossing and turning, alone with my thoughts, is a royal waste of time. Soaking in a tub while writing seems so much more productive, no?

It is important now to note that a deep(er) relaxation is coming from having a good sit, reflecting on the fact that Rome wasn’t built in one day. I am no different. I am a work in progress! Unless your a genius or child prodigy, great things take an inordinate amount of time. Even small things like a good cup of tea needs to brew, coffee needs to percolate & fine wine needs to age!

The change indicative of such a realisation that I need to be patient, to take time, to respect the natural order of things! Change is hard & doesn’t come overnight but if I make more time for baths I trust that slowly & for good… the inner fulfilment that I seek from honouring my calling will come. I may not be able to run today but I certainly can see myself tip toeing toward the light and perhaps that’s just the sign that I am looking for – the sign of a good bath?

Note to reader: It’s bad for us to wake up our devices in the middle of the night… I recently read in BP Hope: “Prolonged exposure to our devices at night throws off the natural cycle of melatonin production, a hormone that regulates our sleep-wake rhythms. People with bipolar tend to be especially susceptible to such disruptions – which is why experts recommend both maintains a regular sleep schedule and shutting off your computer or phone early in the evening.”



I wouldn’t wish it on my four (4) year old son but I am acutely idiosyncratic. If you need a refresher on what it means or its common synonyms, kindly google it? I see no point in copying the definition here!

A handful of people, in recent years, have told me that I am also real, interesting, insightful, refreshing & even funny. And so I choose to believe them!

Countless others have also communicated under no uncertain terms that I am also a royal pain in the ass because I do not follow common social rules of engagement. But I am okay with that! I am OKAY with being a pain in the ass, after all I am the problem child – the middle child… it’s all I know?!

The problem is it’s LONELY! And yet to get out of bed everyday I tell myself: “It’s not me. It’s everyone else in this damn world that has got it wrong.” I know how to get my point across & am not afraid of having the conversation that no one wants to have. I am not afraid of using words creatively, liberally & succinctly.

And in that way, I am unique!

It’s very sad to admit but it is below me to acculturate!!! The thought of communicating about things that we are all very well aware of, like the weather, makes me want to carve my eyes out of my head! I want to have important conversations with value with real people that matter. And it is in that quest that I continue to learn how different we all are!

Note to reader: I might not look nor dress like Uldus Bakhtiozina in the picture above; I tell myself it’s what’s on the inside that counts! ;) She has a great talk also about her photography & fighting stereotypes on TED if you haven’t seen it!

Call ME Cliff


Pippi not working for you? So, Call ME Cliff!

When I met my husband on my ID was “Call ME Cliff”. What his was doesn’t matter it wasn’t nearly as… foretelling. (Note to reader: Today I just call him Roadblock!?!?) The nickname was coined by one of my previous boyfriends on a day that my patience wore thin with grocery store or fast food restaurant clerks behind cash registers.

For me it was a red flag; i.e. “you don’t want to mess with this one” – I wasn’t looking for love, I was just looking to get out of my parents house but my now husband, and gratefully only third (3rd) date, was totally fooled by the fitted pink dress that I wore to our first date. It’s actually a very funny story that I may someday find an avenue to share here but for now, let’s do what I love to do here in this blog, and back up the message in this post with support from the Huffington Post! Kindly read:

I didn’t just stumble upon this but a ‘friend’ posted it on Facebook recently and I really found it so very thought provoking that I too wanted to SHARE somewhere where it mattered. I read it in the morning but by nightfall it had me thinking a lot about the nurture side of my “bipolar” issues.

Note to reader: You may have to do some brain crunches & twists to catch up with me but in my minds eye the article could easily have been written about people with mental illnesses. As I couldn’t agree more that AA is so very helpful for alcoholic souls as I believe it is in AA that they get the connection/ attention they have/ had been missing.

By the grace of God I got my connection/ attention at birth! Compared to other stories that I have heard, especially stories from the mentally ill in Psychiatric Wards, I really had an idyllic childhood. My Mom was a stay-at-home-mum (SAHM) and my Dad took each of us girls out on Daddy-daughter dates as often as his job could afford. Some of my favorite memories are of the magic environment that my Mom created in our home at Christmas through her incessant obsession with decorating our home around the holidays. Another is getting fresh bagel’s with my Dad on Sunday mornings, can’t recall if that was before or after church…

That said, my parents may have uprooted our family a great deal and really upset my primary school education by moving from place to place but I think that I turned out all right. Even my older sister turned out all right and she went to five (5) high schools.

I may have lost best friend after best friend during those formative years and started retaliating by smoking cigarettes at twelve (12) behind the roller rink but I finally found one (1) best friend that has stuck through all my relocations for the last twenty-six (26) years and I have much healthier ways to cope with stress today; screw the yoga if I am honest at any given moment I just reach for Facebook instead of a cigarette. Lol; I should carry my mat around town with me and practice more yoga!

But back to my family & the environment that my parents afforded ME.

Moving may have been disruptive but in retrospect I see that as a result from bouncing place to place I became independent and self-reliant because I had a safe haven at home, wherever my home was. My family was always extremely supportive and caring behind the scenes. They were never in my business, nor in my face. They allowed me to take chances and make mistakes and were always there to help pick up the pieces when I dropped the ball or better found an ice pack when I fell on my face.

After I graduated Architecture School, I was not shy about uprooting myself and moving across the country in order to enable my career. These expanded experiences further contributed to being the individual that I am today. I may be acutely idiosyncratic and hyper sensitive, all characteristics which came before my bipolar diagnosis, but I learned that I need not follow the crowd and routinely made/ make my own decisions that are in keeping with being true to ME. All because my upbringing gave me confidence that that was okay; I was always encouraged to aim high and follow my dreams.

And so after graduating with distinction from DAAP, in 1998, I aligned myself with award winning design firms and learned to approach my career with the same grace that my parents raised me. When I was employed as a Project Architect I was sensitive to the client and project demands. In many ways I see that I managed my projects, as I would have a child – with the client’s & their projects best interest not as per my agenda.

But I don’t know if any of this would have made much sense as I grew without my foundation, my faith in God. At a young age I found Jesus, thanks to my Mom dragging me to church every week. My friends and I often went to 7am mass, before school, when we could drive. And as a consequence my Father later converted to Catholicism in small part due to the faith that he saw that I possessed.

If you have been following ME here, you know today my religion is rather nebulous. We have a non-denominational altar at home and I am teaching my son about all the different gods and deities. I am teaching him how to center himself for a few moments, take a few deep breaths and be respectful and grateful to the powers that be. Hell, I am even teaching him how to pray and I am not sure that I really know how to pray anymore. We are making it up as we go along.

My heart goes out to all the mentally ill that weren’t as lucky as I growing up. God knows that I wish that they had it as well as I had it and continue to do so. Further, I so hope that the Huffington Post article gets people started thinking. I hope people: parents, educators, architects and interior designers alike become increasingly more mindful about the environments that they are creating for the generations to come!

If you have not read the Huffington Post article above; please don’t close this window yet but take a minute read it now!!

An Interview with ME


This is a picture of ME! Can you believe it? After all these years, I am posting a real picture of me, HERE? Caroline Myss’s snap shot, that I posted earlier today (OH wait! That was yesterday…) encouraged me to do it! So, IF you see me on the street, feel free to stop me in my tracks (I like to make tracks) and say hello? I’d love to know what you think about my blog! That said, you still might have to call ME, Princess Marksalot as I am not considering to reveal my real name to the general public until I finish my Screenplay… am thinking that that will be my real debut! Am still tossing some names around for it but it might be called “Being Bipolar isn’t EASY” or bBiE for short… That said, I do intend to share more of my crazy stories one day, they will certainly be in the movie, but as of late it’s been all these posts have been FEEL GOOD… so read on? Get to know ME more intimately?

Who are you? I’m Princess Marksalot; a.k.a. my childhood hero: Pippi! Or you could “Call ME Cliff”, that’s a private joke but I’d probably respond!

Date of Birth? Oh that’s a touchy subject, I’ll give you the year BUT people in my immediate family are super paranoid about identity theft… so suffice it to say, I like to keep them happy & will share, 1973! …I am an OX according to the Chinese Zodiac and a Virgo in the West.

Where do you come from? All over! I was born in Akron then I moved to Germanton (Memphis) at the age of three. I think after that I went to Dallas, then on to Phoenix and New Canaan. My dad was climbing a corporate ladder… which fell out from under him when I started college. During my stint in New Canaan, I was an exchange student in Lisboa… but I digress, I went to college in Cincinnati, DAAP was a great school – don’t know how it ranks today, but when I went t was in the top five (5) for Architecture Schools! During my stint in Ohio again, I was an exchange student in Kobenhaven. (The most beautiful women in the world live in Kobenhaven… note to self, I do not live there!) oh & also New York – how could I forget New York?! I spent most if not all of my co-ops in NYC… After graduating, I moved to New York close to my best friend and my older sister. I fell in love, hard, and followed Scum Lazy-ass Moron, as we will forever refer to him, back to Phoenix. When that fell apart I moved to DC, where I proceeded to loose my mind?! But I loved every second of it! Then to save myself from drowning in my own thunderstorm, I moved to Las Vegas, met my night in shining armor, had a child & begun a life as an expat in Macao (China).

What do you live for? My family. My interests are Architecture, Graphic Design, Photography, cooking, party planning (I love planning a good party), Yoga, traveling & of course writing but I live for my family. One day I hope to live for something greater, …am currently learning how to be a Bipolar & Yoga advocate but my family keeps me going! I am a pretty good wife, mom, daughter & sister if you ask ME, but I am biased of course…

What project ‘s’ are you working on? Well, I have this blog that I get around to in my spare time, which is usually when insomnia strikes, and I have three (3) Facebook pages one for the blog, one for yoga and my own of course (I really love connection). I teach Yoga out of my home, I just became a teacher this year, and dream of opening a Studio one day! Then there’s my 7th Wedding Anniversary party and a Wellness Day in Macao & my Hindi lessons… but, the coolest project by far, outside my son – can I call my son a “project”? lol – is my Screenplay! That I am really proud of! It’s an autobiography & starts with ME getting handcuffed during my first psychotic break in front of Starbucks on Connecticut Avenue in Dupont circle. I am not sure how it ends – it’s about reclaiming my divine birthright; peace, joy, freedom and laughter! I started on this path with a cleanse at the Yoga Barn in Ubud, Bali in February of 2014 and I aim to finish it!

What are your ambitions for your projects? …Ugh – I’d like to make a blockbuster! Did I just admit that? Is that a “flag”, I am Bipolar ya know… All joking aside, who wouldn’t? And in the process, I’d like to make my little sister famous! She has all the skills, as she is an actress AND looks like ME?! Do forgive me for just addressing one project here BUT that’s a pretty enormous ambition! No? My Screenplay, it’s also an insiders guide to how one woman’s hyper alert, idiosyncratic and acutely sensitive manic-depressive mind works! I hope to make what it’s like to be mentally unstable available to more people. To suppress the stigma’s – make mental illness less taboo!

Do you have any political views? All is fair in love & Yoga! And by that I mean, there are different strokes for different folks! I am finding that I mainly vote/ lean one direction but try to see everyone’s point of view and do not side with a political party. Several of my friends & relatives are political die hards and I try to reason with them. But many of you know that that’s pointless! So what do I believe? I believe that all women should have the right to abortion but hope to never have to make that decision myself! I believe that all people should have the right to bear arms but don’t want a gun in the house. God forbid, when I get depressed, I just might use it on myself?! I believe that Education is really important and wish that it was FREE in the USA but that would wreck havoc on our taxes! I am glad to see that Health Insurance is reaching more people now! #GoObamaCare I don’t know if I believe in the death penalty, I think torture is better suited for some! …I support same sex marriage, like I said “All is fair in love & Yoga” – it doesn’t matter to me if some people are born that way or choose that direction later in life! Think that about sums it up… I am really not abreast of what the main issues are! But those are a few that I can think of that are important to ME!

What are your religious views? I have written about them in this blog, but I’ll share what I recently posted about my altar on my Yoga Facebook page here. I think it pretty much sums it up: “I have come to believe that I am a Universalist and believe that our universe, in all it’s glory, is an eternal organism and from it proceeds all life, all consciousness, all creativity… in other words, I believe: ALL is God. On my altar I have a photo of Jesus and a pendant of his mother Mary. (I was raised Catholic, though left the Church shortly after I started yoga in College). You will also find Ganesha, Krishna, Saraswati and of course Buddha up there too. (My husband is Hindu. A Hindu priest married us and another gave my son his name.) I own, but have not read in their entirety, the Holy Bible, a Bhagavad Gita, the Teachings of Buddha & most recently acquired a Qur’an… a close friend and Missionary tells me that I am a Pantheist but I’ll leave that up to you to judge… I promise not to bore you with my spiritual beliefs, in class, but you should trust that they are part of my yogic journey; finding your center is part of yours! Note: that this is intentionally a “Community Page” and I am open to such discussions about God, the Spirit, the Creator of all things, as you like. One thing that I have learned from Yoga since the Summer of 1998 is that WE ARE ONE and in my classes, I will work towards reinforcing that message! Chopra is a huge role model of mine and he often reminds me that we share and are responsible for only ONE World… so kindly keep in mind, as you come to class, that we are in this together!” …imagine that you get the picture!

What do you hope to fulfill in life? I hope to support my husband’s happiness and help make a respectable ‘citizen of the world’ out of my son! …I hope to follow the instructions that my Grandpa Bud gave me and do a job, any job, well! …he really haunts me sometimes, God rest his soul, often I put in the extra effort! You know, tie a pretty ribbon on the package. I could learn more from my Mom; she ties the best ribbons! Trust, I know, this list is not that “lofty” but they are the first things that come to mind!

Do you have any hobbies? Kindly see “What do you live for?” AND “What project ‘s’ are you working on?” above. ;) …the head of Human Resources at my first real job, in Rockefeller Center, told me that smart people usually answer questions before they are asked! Guess this proves that I am SMART? …I have been trying to prove that my whole life! Now my life is complete! …I might not know where Madagascar is nor who fought in the French Revolutionary War ;) but I do know some things!

In your spare time what artists do you listen to? A lot of 5 Seconds of Summer, Green Day & Pink lately! My four (4) year old son loves them… but when I get to choose it’s Pink Martini and Florence + the Machine… REM, Blondie, David Bowie, Eurythmics, Neil Diamond, George Michael & the Eagles when I am feeling nostalgic.

Any closing statements? Please note that I stole these questions from Vonj, out right! There is no shame in stealing! Everyone needs inspiration sometimes… that said, you can find his original post here! I may have just stumbled upon him but I <3 what I’ve seen…

The Innocents

The Innocents. I <3 for their innocence & the process of elimination…

This past Spring, I blogged another bit with this title & first line but took it offline as it was too cryptic and not in keeping with my overall writing style. It was more like pages from my diary. In hindsight, I recognize that these posts are better once I have had some time to reflect on the subjects, the “message” is always in the subject…

But I digress, I ran into the post again this morning and think that the first line has merit; the first line should be expanded upon! And so I’d like to share: Starting with, I feel sorry for “them”. And in part, I guess, for the first time, that a small part of me is beginning to feel sorry for ME. Here’s an idea of what I mean.

@ 7:41pm on 24.04.2013 I wrote “Being Bipolar isn’t EASY! Being Bipolar a roller coaster.” (Opportune word being “coaster”.) At the time, I was acutely aware that we have orange leather circles for coasters… at the time I could only account for seven in our Living Room; originally I bought eight. The tricky thing here is that although the 8th was ‘hiding’ next to my keyboard in the next room I could only deduce at the time that my guardians stole one for a token; for a keepsake. (Our team color is/was Orange.) It did not make me feel nervous that “they” had access to my house nor did I question why they would want it. It did however make me wonder from which other apartment tower WINdow were they watching me?!

The following day @ 1:51pm on 04.25.2013 MT, I saw a woman wearing a T-shirt on the street. It was hot pink with BOLD black writing. It read “Justice for Love”… this struck at the heart of my on-going mission. (Note to reader: I was not alarmed that I still had a “mission”.) In my mind, she was planted on my route back from looping the hill – she was sent to ME by my agents. (You know those agents/guardians of mine that watch my every move, track my local by my cellphone, have access to my house, are digitally tapped into my computer but cannot reveal themselves to me?) She was sent to gently remind me that I was correct in seeking justice for the time that I lost getting tangled in so many triangles. She was sent to remind me to never give up… Can you believe it? After all these years, after all this time, I was still caught up in the delusion that I am not alone in my mission to reveal the truth behind my conspiracies???

Weeks later, after dinner on 06.16.2013 MT, albeit during another hypomanic cycle, I was struck by another a ‘lil Messenger. I saw a man wearing a black Messenger Bag in a green t-shirt that read: “I have an eye on you”. I wasn’t terrified, perhaps because I was in the company of my husband and two (2) year old child but it was clear that I was safe – after all I had agents/guardians looking after me. Shortly thereafter, in less than an hour, a great peace came over me. I saw an Angel. Not a real angel but a young Asian woman in an oversized tee and leggings leaving her apartment just as I was walking by. The timing was perfect, orchestrated even. The tee screamed at me in bigger than life letters, it said “You can do it”! It was at that moment, that I knew that I could, that I should… it was at that moment that I realized that my agents had found a way to reach me again in far of distant lands such as the likes of Macau. Then, I felt lucky!! Today, I feel silly.

…until I looked it up in Merriam Webster, just now @ 2:42am on 21.10.2103 MT, I didn’t understand that ‘reflection’ is “the action of bending or folding back”… you know, mental gymnastics – yoga in the brain. In other words the art of my blogging if you will, is part of my yoga? What a relief! Note to reader: As per Uncle Wiki: “Yoga is the physical, mental, and spiritual practices or disciplines which originated in ancient India with a view to attain a state of permanent peace.” So, cool! That’s what I am looking for after all, that’s what we’re all looking for, are we not – PEACE??

Since this Episode Eleven* (11) began last Spring I have learned to turn the table on that which drives me ‘mad’… I have learned to take control. I have learned that instead of feeling watched that I am the one doing the watching. I have learned to say quietly under my breath “I see you” instead of feeling seen… and thus starts the process of elimination. With great disappointment, I admit that I know that I am not being watched anymore. I do believe in my heart of hearts that for a short period of time that there is a good chance that I was in the Nation’s Capitol but today that is a far cry from my reality. Today I start a new fight; a fight against those conspiracies a fight to eliminate the license plates, the tee shirts the marketing ads and their direct correlation to me.

*Note to Reader: I haven’t had ELEVEN episodes; certainly not eleven dramatic ones that have hospitalized ME. I think that I have been hospitalized four times in less than ten years; and not once since I met my husband, the rock in my life to support ME, but I use 11 to indicate that all things are parallel in the universe like the digits… two straight lines.

for five press – “I on” (D e press I on)


I want to tell you about depression [for five press – “I on”] and me… we have a funny relationship.

The long and short of it is that I won’t admit that I have it, depression that is, and I pride myself on hiding it so well that others never suspect that it plagues me. I am a fortunate one, which can get out of bed every morning and force myself to smile. (During my biggest challenges I have been known to regularly exercise, meditate and eat well; which, as the magazines report, helps a great deal…) It’s so ephemeral that I hardly understand how it manifests itself.

What I never understood about depression is that after I obsessed about the things that I longed for the most; specifically getting back together with my X, the obsession(s), became maggots on my heart and I erroneously blamed the innocent nameless faceless monsters, the ‘them’, that I write about throughout this blog.

My faith in the Universe kept me believing that I could fight, crack the code, win back Scum-lazy-ass-moron’s adoration and put an end to the proverbial elephants in my closet.

But my misplaced faith in a long-lost-love didn’t play a role in how it ended… rather my disease casted me in the largest bipolar role of my life.

I dressed in a dirty grey t-shirt (worn inside out and backwards) with a shabby-chic couture “west coast choppers” hoodie, a used purple bath towel as a skirt – tied it up with a brown belt, wore one bone white heel on the right foot with a black calf-skin slip on the other and marched into my doctor’s office half expecting scum-lazy-ass-moron to be there. (I was armed with four (4) small heart shaped earrings, from Barney’s CO-OP, and prepared to pierce belly buttons, as an initiation to my club of closest cohorts.)

Readers beware – I am confused too. As it wasn’t exactly then, but shortly thereafter, at my doctor’s office that I realized that Scum-lazy-ass-moron was never going to ride the white horse to my rescue. I had no knight in shining armor… just an acutely sensitive idiosyncratic and PSYCHOTIC disposition.

Part of me wishes that I took a selfie that fateful day… now I see, it was after all my Independence Day. The day that I finally let go of all that I had seen and relinquished a silly childhood dream.