Explanation of a life

I have been questioning what it is I’m doing here on a blog for the last couple of days. 

What started as an outlet for my (usually) ever changing moods due to my rapid cycling bipolar disorder has become a mishmash of me talking about my life, my pain and my writing. 

Am I allowed to have a blog that doesn’t have a one track mind? 

I just read a blog post by Alex Press (I’d reblog it but I’m not sure the proper etiquette and lack the know how at the moment)  so I’ll just put the link here

It was written by a woman who is sick, like me, with migraines and and brain damage and heart issues (oh my), like me. She also writes despite these things, like me. 

She’s an inspiration and I love following her blog. 

So thinking about what it is I’m here to do, what it is I’m hear to say, it came to me again. 

I’m here to explain myself, to myself and to others who might be interested in understanding or learning about what it’s like to live in my shoes. 

I’m here to give my life structure and form, instead of living everyday without some sort of record of the life I’m living.

 To put myself, my life, my mind, and my atheist stand in for a soul into words. To sum up my life. So I can give it further value than it currently has. 

Explaining is not complaining. 

Sometimes when the pain is too much, when the act of writing about myself seems too presumptuous and narcissistic, I wonder to myself, am I just here to complain about this life that I have? 

Today, I think not. I am still explaining to the world who I am. I can write about my pain without it being a whimper.

 And if on occasion, a whimper is all I have, I accept that as a part of who I am. 

Maladie

There is a kind of pain where every stiff and spasming muscle in the body aches. 

The joints feel like they are melting and the bones being pulled until they rip away from each other. 

Every movement sparks electric shooting pain. 

Every part of the body that is touched feels like it’s crushed against granite.  

When upright the blood pounds in your head and the entire world spins. 

This is the kind of pain that keeps you in bed for days and makes it impossible to sleep at night.

This is a kind of pain that is so hard to see through that nothing else matters. 

There is nothing but the pain. 

Dead tired but GotGVol2! 

I had two great and busy days and then today I died. 

I’ve spent 98% of today curled in a ball with some variety of words in front of my face. 

Just so tired. And braindead. 

The previous two days were good. I wrote new scenes both days. (Progress!)  I didn’t hate everyone. I actually did things. I even left the house. 

I went to Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2 last night and it was fucking perfection as I expected. I was of course wearing a Star Wars shirt for May the Fourth. I kind of felt like I was cheating but it was worth it. 

Vol 2 had one of my top 5 favorite songs of all time as kind of a minor theme and I was stoked beyond belief. 

Those movies give me life. 

I’m out of words now. Off to bed. 

Aside

Lalaland: Depressed

I just watched Lalaland for the first time. 

This is not a review of the movie but a review of myself through the medium of the movie. 

I’m not sure I liked it. 

I watched it partially from an analytical viewpoint to process the screenplay and compare it with what I’m learning. That might have taken some magic out of it. 

I discerned from watching the movie, that I am still kind of cranky. I wasn’t awed by its beauty. I wasn’t swept away by the whimsy. I usually would be.  I wasn’t overcome all nostalgic for a throwback to a period of musicals I watched and loved growing up. I usually would be. I didn’t find either Ryan Gosling or Emma Stone attractive. I usually would do. I was hardly excited at all when Emma’s character was from Boulder City Nevada, where my grandmother lived and I spent most of my childhood holidays. I’ll be excited about it later, maybe. 

So all is still not right in my mental world. I’m doing better but I haven’t gotten my equilibrium back yet. This no mood medication journey I’m on is definitely a struggle. But I’ve been through worse. 

I’d  really like to enjoy things again. That’d be super nice. Is that too much to ask for? 

That being said the acting was great and the music was cool. 

I’ll watch it again when I’m happy. Maybe I’ll like it then. 

It’s really a light this time (not a train) 

I have been having a hard time this year. I’m in a shitty situation that I haven’t been able to fix yet. And I’ve let myself wallow in it for far too long.

That’s over now. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Mostly because I put my damn foot down and decided it’s time to fix this shit. But also because I’m getting close to a time when I can actually do something.

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My Bipolar Story

Bipolar Story Beckalee

I don’t remember much from my childhood. It was pretty unremarkable, I think. I had good parents that cared for me and my siblings. My dad was a bit angry and my mom a bit unattached but I feel pretty grateful that that’s the worst I can say.

One of my first memories is falling down on the way to kindergarten and my mom carrying me into my classroom to clean my bleeding knee. Part of me thinks this was my first day of kindergarten but that might not be true.

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