Rivaling Narcissus, But In a Different Way.

today's weather: B A S E L I N E
anxiety : 0
agitation : 0

I must confess. I am so obsessed with myself. I have the self-love worthy of the punishment of death, woe is me.

It's not the type of obsession that keeps studying the mirror, preening narcissistic. In fact I rarely enjoy looking at myself in the mirror; I often find too many flaws and disappointingly un-artistic angles.

But when I get bored, I find myself clicking away on my own blogs and reading what I wrote in the past, as if I need to know. And then I praise me for being so clever though I write mostly rubbish.

And when I feel sad, I visit the site where I upload my photography and drawings to cheer myself up. As unimpressive as they are, they lift my spirits because they remind me what an artistic (albeit not at all extraordinary) person I am.

I find that I find my own blogs more interesting than other individuals', even if I don't live a life half as interesting as those photobloggers, travelers, foodies and stay at home moms. How pathetic can I get? I don't really care about not having a gazillion followers at this point; I feel like I am my own best follower.

My Own Version of Moloko Plus

today's weather: S L I G H T. D Y S P H O R I A
anxiety : 1 | agitation : 2
today's unwanted guests: creative spurt, extra energy with a feeling of fatigue (weird, huh?), voices and noises and presences. dammit.

For the past three nights I've capped the day with iced rum mocha. Plus 100mg of Diphenhydramine to help make me sleep (One little capsule does't work on me anymore so I popped two). My own mild version of Moloko plus.

Alex and his Moloko Plus. Pic from here.

Last night though I rethought my new night ritual because I was on the wrong edge of edgy for a few hours after drinking. My doctor will kill me when she hears about my experimental cocktail, if ingesting it doesn't kill me first. Racing heartbeat, excess energy, mild tremors, an urge to scream and laugh and run and fall down. My minor hallucinations were having minor hallucinations. I imagine would be the sensation behind Alex Delarge's tolchok sprees.

That's what happens to me when I mix stimulants with relaxants. I think my high school Health teacher taught us about this; no wonder. It reminds me of a time three years ago when I drank Red Bull while doped up on Unisom (althought last night's trip was not at all as extreme nor fun). Or this time back in college when ... uh, okay, never mind.

I felt so creatively inspired yesterday so I was tempted to skip sleep again. Swimming around in my head were design ideas and various matters of concern; I had to force them out of the pool so it could be cleaned for use the next day. Skipping sleep isn't good - that's why I took the Diphenhydramine.

I have no excuse for the rum mocha though, save for a sweet tooth. Maybe tonight I should just stick with a carton of ice cream.

A More Healthful Sleep-aid Alternative?

today's weather: B A S E L I N E
anxiety : 0 | agitation : 0

I had a severe craving for sweets last night and we unfortunately are not in the habit of storing snackables. I was too wound-down to run outside to grab something, so I resolved to be creative with what was available. I made a mental list of possible ingredients in the kitchen cupboards - sugar, honey, evaporated milk, vanilla extract. I thought of making butterscotch syrup but realized we were out of butter.

I remembered we had a lot of cocoa powder and a few sachets of instant coffee. Hmmm. I then instantly craved a mug of hot chocolate. Or perhaps a glass of iced mocha. Excellent idea. I mulled over it for several minutes before I finally decided to make some.

Why the extralong mulling, you may ask? While a cup of cocoa or mocha is definitely a good quencher for a nighttime sweet-tooth - and a relatively easy one to make too - my main problem was that the chocolate and/or caffeine would surely keep me awake for several more hours. And I didn't want that. Especially since I didn't sleep at all the night before. I could take my sleep-inducers, but I know from experience that my sleep meds are no match to stimulants taken so late in the day.

Suddenly I had an inspiration: I'm aware that a bottle of rum sits in the cupboard. My dad sometimes adds rum to his special-occasion baked chicken recipe so we often have a bottle handy.

I thought it would be a great idea to go irish. Why not? The relaxant would nullify the stimulant; it would give an extra flavor kick too. Wonderful. So I made me some mocha frappe with a drop of rum. Really yum. I had two extra-large glasses. And true enough, the caffeine didn't overpower the Benadryl, and I had no problem falling asleep that night.

Which led me to another bright idea. As I washed the day off me, I considered the probability that a shot of red wine before bedtime is a more healthful sleep-aid than my usual pill-cocktail.

Drinking a small amount of red wine daily has health benefits.

Meanwhile, taking a large amount of pills every night (which I am currently doing) has side effects. It will even eventually take the toll on the liver (a fact I have been starkly aware of lately and obsessing over, since my father-in-law recently lost his battle with liver cancer).

I know that this would probably seem like an excuse to be alcoholic - especially considering I am bipolar and therefore addiction prone - but I have a good amount of discipline and self-control, plus a husband who will not likely allow anything remotely resembling an addiction.

Besides. It's not like our income can afford an addiction to something so not-cheap. *Snicker*

So anyway. Yeah. Why not? Red wine instead of my usual bedtime concoction of drowse-inducing pills. I imagine a lot of narrow-minded conservative Christians (who believe drinking any form of alcohol is sinful) would shake their heads at this. Heck. I am already dependent on drugs and sleep aids; how much more "immoral" would it be if I relied on a bit of antioxidant-rich, heart-beneficial red wine?

I Party

severe elev. | high elev. | moderate elev. | slight elev. | BASELINE | slight dep. | moderate dep. | deep dep. | severe dep. || anx: 0 | agit: 2

Bipolar people sometimes party and other times they may just be plain depressed. It is quite daunting for us bipolar people when we arrive back home or end up in a friends house after a night of hardcore partying. Not only have we spent incredible amounts of money but we have been in places and done things that we may regret later on. The manic frenzy is an incredible one and we all enjoy it at these times. However medication is designed to control such desires.

Bipolar people like to party hard and it is difficult to become just normal like average Joe. Indeed we can't party every night but when we do, I believe it is important that we allow some more time to recover. After a night out we wont necessarily be depressed but we must be prepared.

Quoted from this blog. Text-styling mine.

Bipolars are party animals. When they're high, they're high and like to springboard into greater elevations. But when the after-party low hits, it's a down-low low.

I keep thinking of the Nikki character played by Sienna Miller in the movie Alfie (2004, starring Jude law .. by the way, it's Jude Law's birthday today, December 29).

Photos from this blog.Photos from Flickr.

I love her. Nutty Nikki. "Damaged," as Alfie said. I really think she's bipolar; it wasn't quite stated but I can't ignore the context clues: Mood swings. Daring, shocking and embarrassing behavior. Flamboyant fashion. Addiction. Un-subtle flirting and crazy sexual activity. Creative manic business. A dependent neediness. Medication she sometimes thinks she doesn't need. And the wild partying. That's familiar territory for me.

Contrary to what a lot of people perceive about me, i like parties. Maybe even love them. I crave parties. It's just that I've been ditching most of the "church people parties" because they often suck, i.e., they aren't the kind of parties I want to be at. So church people think I'm not the party type. The thing is, I'm not the lame-o party type. I'd really rather be home with a good book than waste my time with parlor games, "blessing" conversations, and potluck - er, potbless.

Just to get things straight: I don't seek to get wasted okay? I don't even intend to do anything crazy or questionable. But I do always wish there was some sort of rush and not just tame fun. I still believe there could be clean - emphasis on the CLEAN - fun that would be exhilarating for a bipolar bear like myself.

As a pre-medicated and pre-Christianized young adult, I've had my share of waking up hungover and remorseful of having done something repulsive or STOOPId the night before. I hated the guilt and the embarrassment, but I loved the un-safe craziness. I was proud of it. I constantly had an appetite for it.

And here I am now, medicated and indoctrinated, and though I don't even feel old, I've had to make do with the "safe" party scene. Have whatever clean fun I can have. Then get all depressed afterward for not having the fun that I want.

The blogger went on to say,

It is important that we enjoy life as a whole rather than just the manic moments. As long as we can feel emotions we will be alright ... Be hopeful, you will be okay.

This, by the way, was written by someone who does not trust the drugs and does not take any.

I try to suck all I can from a high while I'm in it, knowing that a low would be just around the corner. And for all its wretched misery, I find something I appreciate about the depressions. Like a bipolar friend of mine once said, it's better to feel extremes from time to time than feeling nothing.

And now to prepare for another party tonight ...

Tomorrow night I'll be getting together with some non-church friends. Haven't seen them in a decade. I'm curious about how the night will turn out. Don't worry; I'm very, positively, certainly sure that I won't be doing any alcohol or anything questionable. I just hope to have some rush kind of fun.

i'm not an addict

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | normal | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx : 1 , agit : 1


Of course that's what all addicts say. ^_^

Addictions form because of enjoyment + the temporary comfort that the enjoyment gives = temporary bliss mistaken for relief = the temptation to indulge.

I can see why people are prone to addiction, bipolars especially. Basically, everybody wants a feelgood upper to alleviate whatever pain they may be feeling.

I don't think I've ever been addicted to anything.

Of course, maybe I can't tell.

I can say I've never had addictions - just fixations and tendencies to enjoy. (Hee hee hee)

I have had in the past a fixation on alcohol. I used to love the feeling of getting drunk (though not the rancid taste it leaves in my throat after) ; as I student I liked appearing in class wasted or high. I kinda miss the feeling.

I have in the past been a smoker. I eventually convinced myself that it's a dirty habit and ditched it - only to replace it with a newer habit of popping aspirins like candy. Then I ditched the aspirins for gum or lollipops -which kinda works, only they don't give the same serenity that nicotine or cannabis do.

I admit, I still have cravings to smoke or get drunk or cavort or do something depraved, but I have enough common sense in me to know which substances are habit-forming, which kind of behavior is despicable, and enough self-control to stay away, and am proud to say that I've been living clean for more than a decade now.

Of course, due to the necessary medication, I am still right now and forever will be a drug dependent - but a morally and socially acceptable kind.

I still do have the tendency to overindulge in certain adult behavior at certain times of the year, depending on how faithful I've been to the meds and where I am in the swing. Thank goodness I'm very married.

Right now I may have a growing addiction for going online. Going online soothes me somehow, makes me feel like I still have a worthwhile existence in the population sludge. I like to pretend that my nonsensical babble is being paid attention to. It comforts me somewhat to believe it.

... temporary comfort out of enjoyment mistaken for relief... something to indulge in.