Chocolate and flowers are not the way into this girls heart. Don’t get me wrong, some decadent dark chocolate and fiery red roses are welcome, but no substitute for deep sincere love.
I’ve experienced “puppy love.” In college I was sure I met the (young)man of my dreams. He was smart, handsome and innocent. He was driven. Broke as hell. Determined to become a doctor. He was so many things I simply wasn’t. My yang. Best of all, he didn’t drink, which left all the alcohol for me and a guaranteed designated driver. Its the little things.
I’ve experienced “unrequited love.” After my puppy love suddenly, out of nowhere, moved out I was broken. Messy. Probably desperate. I latched onto more than a few men but they couldn’t carry my weight. I fell and they watched in dismay. Often saying, “but we just met…” For some reason, these particular men seemed not to appreciate my quick affinity. My ability to throw everything aside. Afford loyalty before trust. As each one walked away, I was more and more confused. Doesn’t everyone want love?
Looking back, I slowly discovered I didn’t really know what love meant. In my formative years, love wasn’t free or forthcoming. It was earned. Straight A’s, for example, gained high favor. Loss of a high school tennis match led to shame. Expression of teenage angst got a wagging of the finger. If I pleased you, the payoff was love. But, then again, not really. Doesn’t everyone deserve love?
Today, I am “madly, deeply loved” by my best friend and husband. I believe I “deeply, madly love” him in return. Its messy. Ugly. Beautiful. Meaningful. Paramount. And above all else, sincere. Nothing is off limits. I yell. Slam doors. Cook dinner. Check the mail. Bring laughter. Be of good cheer. Have anxiety attacks. Have manic moments, depressive weeks and the love can still carry me. This intimacy is immense and binds us in a way I have never known. The warmth and tenderness that permeates the air we breathe no matter what, brings new meaning. Ushers in a whole new understanding of what love truly is. At least for me.


Honesty-is it always the best policy?

I am feeling a bit lost right now. I have a full time  job which gives me structure and accountability.  Plus it can be a social environment which I am sorely lacking. Our office is moving and there has been delay after delay. Today marks two weeks working from home. I can’t get out of bed. I can’t produce. Yesterday I could barely function. I went to my local coffee shop for a change of scene but felt completely overwhelmed. Sitting outside I could hear the overhead radio, birds chirping, cars honked no and people chatting at such a high pace and volume I think I shut down. I stared down at my paperwork but could not process. Didn’t know where to start, how to start, or what to even look for.  I sat frozen for almost an hour.

Im still contending w symptoms of feeling detached. Disconnected. Separate. My dear boss, who has been amazingly supportive of me and my issues, has left the job.  She and I had a deal of sorts.  I could contact her in the morning before work and request to work from home if I was having an emotional day that didn’t lend itself to being in the office.  There were days I forced myself into the office w tear stained eyes and she would send me home to work.  I now have a new boss, who was actually my officemate. I never disclosed to her I am bipolar. Something held me back, don’t know why.  But now I feel like I need to be transparent w her too. I’m hoping we can strike the same deal. I am nervous.  For some reason I don’t feel as safe. I’m feeling terribly vulnerable.

For the bigger picture I believe it’s the right thing to do. I miss several days of work. Right now, she sees me as having a strong work ethic.  When I’m not there she doesn’t know I may be cowering in the corner of my room, or crying on the bathroom floor, or hearing voices telling me it’s time to go.  She thinks I’m at home churning out good work.  She respects me. To have her support is paramount to me continuing to produce good quality work when I can.  Knowing she understands sometimes I just can’t and it’s not because I don’t want to, will bring me a sense of relief.  But, of course I don’t know if that is how she will react or not.  The reality is she is not my old boss and she may have different views and standards and expectations.

I better stop now as I can feel myself flooded with anxiety as I write those words. It’s scary to put yourself out there in a professional environment.  Did you have to do it?? Do you have any helpful tips to share?


Reaching out to a suicidal friend

You have been on this earth longer than me
Your shoes are most likely bigger than mine
The distance you have travelled is farther than mine
The journey you have faced is longer than mine
But, incredibly, here we are on the same path
You are there
I am here
Yet I know your anger at waking up, a failed attempt
As mine failed too
I understand the allure of peace
At the rivers edge I believed it too
We are beyond sadness
Beyond depression
Lost in a world of pain like no other
Minutes turn to hours turn to days
All the while the curtains closed
Letters form words sent through the atmosphere
Are you there??
My heart filled response shot right back
Lest we forget the people on the outskirts
People like me
Where an instant bond was formed
I don’t know your full story
But I’m proud to be in it.
Sweet Steve from Sacramento
I care for you more than you know
To tell you to hang on feels wrong
As I truly know the suffering
But to not share how your being over there means to me
Also feels wrong
I am not in your shoes
And don’t pretend to be
But our paths have crossed for a reason
We are battling this fucking disease you and me
I have nothing but respect for you
Trudging through each minute
Facing demons
Hiding from demons
Free fall into bed
I’ll just be over here caring
Carrying you in my heart
Remembering to breathe