Spoiled Rotten

I have really enjoyed this summer. Gaby took care of me. He arranged child care for three of our kids during the day, giving them lots to do and letting me have a break. Ruby and I were free to follow our own schedule as Anne, Jean and Danny were in Summer Camp during the day. The house was quiet and calm from 7:30am until 5:30pm. Nice, I know. At first I felt guilty for this - that I was sending my kids away - then I realized how much I needed the peaceful atmosphere. Every Saturday, when all four of them were home together all day long, they argued with each other and complained to me from morning to night! My nerves could barely stand it. I love my kids, but Mondays are good days. Now the craziness of school is about to start, and I'm not ready to give up my full day of peace. But soon I will be picking three kids up from school at 2:45... giving them snack, helping with homework, refereeing the sibling rivalry.

Last school year the kids bought lunches from the cafeteria because I was too sick to pack lunches. This year, now that I'm well, I'd like to make their lunches. We'll see how long that lasts. :) Also, now that I'm well, I want to be more involved with the kids' classes. I'll make myself available for each one - but especially Danny's. Kindergarten! I ordered Danny's L.L. Bean backpack and lunch box. I chose the teal one with the snake instead of the orange one with the gecko. Orange hurts my eyes. I can't wait to see him with his backpack on the first day of school!! I've got my school supply list all completed and I'll be going tomorrow to get all the goodies. It's so cool to get new stuff. I wish I were going to school. Elementary is so fun! (Was it fun for me when I was in it? I remember a constant state of butterflies in my stomach from those years.)

So summer is ending, school is beginning. I'm sad and excited. It figures.

"She broke her coccyx."

I am off balance.

My medication and weight gain have changed the way I function with gravity. I frequently get head spinning moments. Eyes open or closed, the world around me is tilting and I have to brace myself to keep from falling.

I've gotten clumsy, and I'm embarrassed. I used to pride myself on my balance and poise. Not anymore. I used to be graceful, others had frequently said so in the past. Now I feel like I can't walk a strait line any better than someone doing a D.U.I. test on the shoulder of the highway. When I'm down on the floor (a frequent position for someone with small children) I can't get up easily. I've had to add a few more steps to stand-up. It shocks me each time; I'm not used to being physically slow.

I feel unstable and on edge. Falling was on the top of my list of "Things I Didn't Want To Happen Ever Again." A year ago, before the diagnosis, medication and weight, I had a hard fall. I was running through the rain with a friend, trying to get to her house before we were soaked. The road was muddy, I was in flip flops, we were running fast and my legs gave out. My knees were pretty banged up, but what hurt the most was my pride.

I'm afraid of being embarrassed again. In this instability I've found myself grabbing stair rails or holding on to chairs when I walk past. Sudden moves are out for now. I try to brace myself when I bend down to pick something up, and I keep my eyes closed until I my head feels right. I don't take chances.

But today I fell.

I was sitting on the edge of Danny's bed when I stood up. To sturdy myself I reached for the bookcase behind me, but I misjudged the distance and didn't get a good grasp. It seemed to happen in slow motion: standing up too fast --- no grasp --- flailing arms --- toys knocked off of book case --- feet trying to find floor --- scraping my back on a metal toy --- me saying "Ow!" --- landing my bum on the floor. There was a moment of shock and assessment, then my children came to my side, like a little EMS team. They checked the scratch on my back (a lot of "oooh that's bad" and "it's bleeding!"). In fact, I was not bleeding, and there were no bones broken, but I was embarrassed and sad. I was humiliated to have been so helpless in front of my kids. I didn't want them to see me upset, so I made my way upright and went to my room. As I was doctoring my scrape I started to cry. I felt very bad. Here are the thoughts that ran through my head (they are thoughts, not truths): You are clumsy and dumb; If you weren't so fat that wouldn't happen; Your disease caused this to happen; You are getting old, your kids are healthier than you; You should have been more careful; The room should have been cleaner; IT'S YOUR FAULT. So I cried a little bit.

The drama of the fall is over, but I'm definitely bruised. Who has two thumbs and will be using a walker from now on? This girl.

Today's Prayer

(I wrote this around 1pm CST)

Wow. I just had the strongest prayer of my life. Seriously 5 minutes ago. I want to document this so I won't forget what happened. I'm debriefing. :)

Two things happened to bring on the battle. First- It was after lunch nap time at our house, so everything was quiet. I was planning to take a nap, too. My goal was to slip right under the covers as soon as I had the two kids settled in their rooms. On the way to my room I passed the kitchen. Then this very convincing voice said, "Rachael! You need something sweet in your mouth right now. It will make your nap so much better. You're alone and no one will see you!" I am trying to not gain weight. I was an idiot and went to the pantry. I knew full well that my stomach was satisfied from lunch and that we didn't have anything sweet except the kids' school snacks - and those don't even taste good! But I picked up a package of wafer things my daughter likes and opened them up. One bite into it and I thought, "Gosh. These are a little sweet, but a little gross, too." And then I said, "But eating the whole serving will make you feel good." So I took a second package.

I stood in the kitchen with the open pack in my left hand and the second pack in my right hand and the wafer in my mouth. A much sweeter voice spoke up and said, "You don't have to do this to feel better. You can stop eating and put them down." What? I already opened this package, and I'd waste it if I threw it away! I was frozen. On the threshold of our kitchen floor, I felt like I had to make a decision right then and there. The new voice was saying, "I am here with you, and I'll never leave."

I listened and I liked the sound of that voice. I trusted it. I turned around and threw the package into the trash and put the other one back into the pantry. It was so simple and felt so good, and when it was done I was amazed at how easy it was. What a weight off of my shoulders. WOW. And you know what? The nice voice stayed around, but the the one who told me to eat- no where to be found.

Here comes Step 2. Often during nap time I use that quietness to pray. I kneel beside my bed, put my hands on my eyes and lean into the bed. Don't ask why. I've done it for years and it works for me. I know God knows my mind, but I like to speak out loud. It keeps me from distractions in my mind and I love how comfortable God feels to me when I can just talk to him so openly. This time I shut my eyes but didn't start speaking right away. Something weird happened. I couldn't start my prayer.

I couldn't reach God.

Not that I didn't have anything to say, but I just couldn't get the words out. My brain fired this blast of information, memories, images all across my mind, turning my thoughts away from God. I was looking up to heaven but a light got covered by my images. I recognized right away that I was just getting off track, so I tried to start praying out loud. But before I could even speak I was cut off by my mind, which was being influenced by something foreign.

It came between me and God. I tried to see him, but my vision was blurred, and all I could hear was my mind, which is horrible. My thoughts looked puny and sick compared to looking at our Father. It was almost like I was being pulled away by a mob, a mob created out of hate. I got panicky and started to cry. I don't even think I said God's name when I called out. I didn't have words. I knew he was there, but I couldn't get to him. All I could see were my own thoughts, and it was so scary. I had an image of being tormented by my own brain. Then I imagined having to tell Gaby and how awful our lives would be with a crazy brain inside of me. The thought of Gaby gave me something to grasp, though, and I felt a little less alone. I could still tell scary things were happening, but I was getting further from them and closer back to God.

During this time I sensed a battle above me and in front of me. I didn't see it - I just witnessed it. I sat back against the wall, sobbing. I felt (not literally) that the Father's arm was around me and he was taking care of me. I don't think I have ever felt that secure in God's arms until that moment. I mean, I have loved God and relied on him for many years - but I've never been involved in this rescue kind of experience until today.

I do not doubt that satan was behind all of this. That evil was pissed off at my recent affairs with the holy spirit (cookies and other things) and wanted to get even. My brain is a weak point right now, and he knew it. Well satan: YOU DON'T SCARE GOD and God on my side.

But what if it was purely chemical? What if it was my Bipolar brain in a brief fog? Was this one of the side affects of my medicine that I didn't read? Do I just need more medication to curb this side effect?

What if it happens again?!!!!!!

Hospital stay

Well I'm back home. (Not that any of you knew I was in the hospital.) This time I stayed 11 days to make certain that my medications were working together. You know you've been inpatient too many times when the psych ward begins to feel like a second home.

Everyone in the psych ward is different - age, race, religion - yet we are all dealing with a mental illness. It is such a blessing to be around others who are facing the same challenges. During this stay I would often observe the way that being together gave us strength. A 65 year old granny chatting with a 19 year old skater. A 40 year old Muslim talking about God with a 31 year old Christian. We are all equal, we all need help. I wish the rest of the world could have this experience. (But who's going to admit to having a mental illness?)

I've got a schedule, and it includes staying awake all day long. I'm going to the gym every weekday. I do chores and make meals. I'm functioning again. I'm doing my part to control this disease, and the medicine does the rest. For now, the new medication is working with me - let's hope it lasts for a long while.

Skin Effects

I have acne. And I don't mean a few zits here and there. I mean full blown, skin stretched, something-going-on-underneath-acne.

I read all of the information that comes with a new medication. In one a while back, there was listed as a side affect that this medicine could cause "minor skin eruptions." :) Well I guess I'm in that "could" category, because it did. The problem with my medicines (as with all medicines, I guess) is that you have to outweigh the benefit to the possible side effects. So far this medication hasn't helped me, mood-wise, but I'm supposed to "give it time" to take affect. So me and my zits are giving it time. And we hurt. And we're sore. And we're tired of being tender and not being able to hug people the right way.

Ode to a Disease

Bipolar, you have given me such great pains.

Scares and stresses, moods and messes.

You have left me for dead with only my breath to save my body.

You will me to fight with the public, when I don't want to fight with anyone.

Your desire would be that I hide away, shelter and shudder.

Bipolar disease you are a disease which pleases to make my mind like a sieve - in with the new thoughts, keeping the horrendous thoughts to swirl around, and letting the good thoughts pass through, never touching ground. Oh, disease, you freeze me when I want to decide, you place a space between those I want to touch, you erase feelings of joy, love and devotion. You eat my soul, piece by piece. And I am sweet, so you enjoy me.

Work Out II

I had a great workout today. The it's been an hour since we left the gym, and I'm still feeling the high. But more than the rush of adrenaline, I have a very clear head. I haven't had this in a long time, and I know I'll be back at the gym tomorrow.

Work Out

It's so easy to slip out of the gym habit. But I'm going back tomorrow. And even though I don't like it, I'm going to get on those machines and work. I'm doing this for my freaking health.

crying spell

I had a moment in front of my kids this morning that was really sad. I'm having to take my baby's crib apart (she's almost 3) because we bought her a big girl bed, and I'm in the garage looking for the crib box. well I also had pandora playing throughout the house, right? so I'm digging through stuff, and I'm coming across all this stuff that to me all of the sudden seems like failures: ping pong table that we never play, antique table that we never use, etc. and this sad Norah Jones song comes on and I lose it. so here I am bawling, and i found the crib box and I realize that my baby isn't a baby anymore. more tears, more bawling. my kids are all standing at the garage door asking me if I'm ok, and why I'm crying. I just told them I'm having lots of emotions, and that I'll be ok. I could have sat there for hours, but I pulled myself together and got the box ready. It felt good to get a cry out. also, does anyone need a used crib?

Waking Up

As someone under depression, I sleep a lot. I go to bed early, I wake up late, I take little naps, cat naps, long naps. You name it, anything I can grab, I take. And I HATE being woken up. I don't know what it is, but it's like whatever wakes me up is my enemy. Sometimes its my phone alarm, which isn't so bad because its inanimate. But usually it's Gaby or one of the kids, sent in to wake the sleeping beauty. I feel like the wicked witch inside. Or death itself, summoned back to life. Do you think Death wants to be awake? No.

Nursery Nostalgia

Ok, tomorrow is the first day I'm selling my art at the consignment sale, but I'm nervous that I won't feel up to smiling at customers. I hope my art can sell itself because I might be hiding behind it.

One thing that's strange about being bipolar is I get these urges to DO something. Anything, sometimes. Like right now, it's 7:13pm, and I feel like I need to be going somewhere.

The wind right now is atrocious, and I know that it'd be cold and billowy outside, but I feel like I have to get out there and go. I know there are some errands I could do, things to get at Wal-Mart (good old 24 hour Wal-Mart!), but it's the weird feeling of HAVING to do it that irks me. Why do I feel this way? What is it in my brain that tells me, "Get up and go do this right now. You can't stay where you are." ???

A Reason to Shower

Outfits ironed, kids fed. Then we decided to stay home this morning.

Great. Now I need to find a new reason to shower. You see, when you are depressed it takes a lot of drive to get under that rain of water. You'd think that you'd crave refreshment. No. It's too much of a chore. Scrubbing your body? Torture. And brushing your hair? Too tiring. Especially if you have to dry it, too. Everything is hard to do, if all you're doing is staying in bed anyway. Once you get to the clean and clothed part, the rest is ok (like makeup and jewelry and talking to people). For some reason, it's that hygiene hump that needs climbing, and it's a killer.

Luckily I have a husband who can come up with a list of reasons why I need to take a shower. I may not like it, but he's gonna get me in there.

Ruby

I have a daughter who is always positive. She is two and a half, and her name is Ruby.

Ruby is a breath of fresh air to my mostly negative attitude. She is polite when I am rude, she is calm when I am seething, she is gentle when I am ready to smash things into the wall. I don't know where she learned these ways, because lately I have not demonstrated any of this kindness to her, but I know that God is using her to bless me.

Color color color

OK, I think I'm gonna have to change it. As much as I hate to waste the perfect job that Christy did yesterday, I just can't stand the pink. I'm going to have to go back to dark. It's just more me right now. Lemme hear some support.

Nail color II

Well the color ended up more of a pinky/peach, but it looks good. Especially against my white keyboard. :) The pedicure was my favorite part - who doesn't love a good foot rub - and it's nice that my girl, Christy, doesn't chat away during the process. She lets me sit there in the massaging pedi-chair with my eyes closed and my mouth shut. I love pedicures, and I love enjoying them quietly.

So having the morning to myself was nice. Thursdays are my "day off" when the kids go to the babysitter. The only flaw is that on Thursday, since Gaby shuttles the kids for me, he takes the van... and I'm left driving his car. His car is cute and old and has a good stereo, but it's a standard. And I can technically drive a stick shift, but not very well. So what should be a relaxing morning turns out to be a sweaty-palms, stressful event.

But my mood is still slightly up, so I'm looking forward to wanting to shower tomorrow. My cousin invited me and my kids to story time at the library, so I'm sure she'll appreciate the shower. :)

Is it stereotypical of me to listen to music while I type?

Nail color

I went to the store today to chose a new nail color. I'll be going to the salon tomorrow, and I wanted to have my own color in hand. I fully intended to go with a dark winey/purple to match my mood lately, but to my surprise I was drawn to a creamy coral. I was surprised because I am very much affected by visual things like color, and I didn't think that something so light and springy would catch my eye. Well I kept going back to this color because it was so beautiful, and I finally decided: if my nails are this color, maybe I'll be forcing myself into a lighter, positive mood.

I remember a few weeks ago when I painted my nails a bright red to match a dress. It didn't work out; I felt like the color didn't represent me and I ended up with a nail situation: darker nails with a bloody looking edge. That result was partly my laziness (I didn't take off the bright red first), but it was a sad example of how I needed to reflect my dark mood.

I've had a few good mornings lately, so I'm counting on more of those to get me through this new color. Who knows. Maybe they're a sign of a brighter Spring for me.

Danny's song

It's quiet time, and I hear Danny softly singing this LONG song about "going around and around....what are you gonna do...ever forever...louder." It's cute.

I'm in my room crying. It's been one of those mornings that my depression has gotten the better of me. When that happens, everything seems sad and upsetting. I can't believe I'm writing about this. I don't know how many of you readers have ever been depressed. The worst part of it for me is that it makes me less of an adequate caregiver for my children. That stings. I wish I could be happily singing to my toys like Danny.

Weight Gain

I have gained a significant amount of weight in the past six months or so. The guilt I've been carrying about this weight has been almost as damaging as my disorder itself. Well at my last appointment with my doctor, I found out that one of my medications has an affect of weight gain. So this whole time I've been beating myself up for ballooning to a size I never thought I'd be, even though I'm going to the gym and eating healthier. I am mad, relieved, confused, upset. It doesn't make me feel better to know that this weight isn't my fault. It makes me scared because I don't know if I'll be able to switch medications or stop it altogether. My next appointment with this doctor isn't until the end of March. So I have until then to worry and grow.

By the way, this is a very sensitive and embarrassing topic for me, but I felt the need to write about it rather than keep it inside.

First Poop, Last Diaper

OK, this may seem gross, but I'm gonna write about it anyway. I have been changing diapers non-stop for the past eight years. Well today, by youngest pooped in her potty for the first time. This represents a big change for me because I will pretty soon be diaper free. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN EIGHT YEARS!!

Screaming Kids

Why does my kids' screaming get on my nerves? Is it something about the certain decibel which causes the muscles in my neck to twitch and twinge? Is it knowing that the whole neighborhood can hear these fun fighting children that embarrasses me?

I tell them that they can't scream inside - only outside. So they take me at my word. As soon as their feet cross that threshold their mouths open wide and they let it all out. My boys are way too early for maturity so their screams come out as high pitched squeals. And it's so random - most times there is nothing they are screaming about. It's just because they can.

So I let them. But while they scream outside, I'm inside turning into a ball of nerves.

I'm within eyesight of the backyard, but I'm wearing headphones. I can still hear the screams, but they are muffled. And don't worry, I can tell the difference between a hurt scream and a kid scream, even with headphones on. I can still see their wide mouths, their shut eyes, their chests puffed out in full blow. And it bothers me.

I guess this is something I need to work out in therapy.

Cottage Daydream

I caught myself daydreaming today of owning a little cottage. Maybe in Bandera, that way I could drop the kids off at my parents' and go to my cottage and just have time to myself. It'd be cute and cottagey with one bedroom. The bedroom would have a white iron bed with old quilts on it. There'd be a stash of pajamas in the dresser, along with a stash of painting overalls. The living room would be a studio, the rug a large tarp. I'd have a comfy sofa and chairs, but they'd be mismatched and the decor would be my paintings. My workspace would take center stage, not to show off, but because the middle of a room is the best for painting. I wouldn't paint while I had company, but I'd show my painted canvases to guests when they were over. And I'd always have good food to offer from the little kitchen. This cottage would have lots of windows and be flooded with natural light. And outside the windows, I'd see lots of climbing roses and arbors of wisteria. And bees. I could open the front door and the back door and the breeze would be enough to cool the entire (small) space. Everything would be white and light and airy, and my mood would be light and pleasant. I'd wake up wanting to paint, stay awake, wanting company. I'd leave satisfied and ready to get back to my regular house...

I might add to this daydream because there are so many thoughts that haven't made it to the word part of my brain yet.

Good Feeling

It's been a while since I've had that just plain good feeling in my gut. Well I'm having it right now. I wonder if it'll be there in the morning when I wake up and have to go to the gym.

It feels good, this good feeling. It's like swallowing sunshine and having it warm you from the inside.

Maybe it's because my fingers have finally gotten used to my new keyboard and I can type without to0 many oopses. Or because I'm listening to Madeleine Peyroux on iTunes. Or because my medication is finally right on. Or maybe God just decided to give me a break. Whatever, I'm enjoying it.

Vitamin D

Today has been good so far.

I missed going to the gym because I slept in, but I made up for it by taking my in-laws to the Botanical Gardens here in town. We walked a lot. And the sun felt good. And the little ones behaved. That's what I call a good morning.

Now I just picked up the older ones from school and am wondering if the vitamin D I got this morning will help my patience this afternoon.

Isolating

Do you ever want to be in and out of a place, like a store, without having to greet anyone? You just want to go in, get your stuff, and get out. Am I the only one who would rather not have to make eye contact with the person behind the counter sometimes? It's called "isolating" and I think it's ok on occasion. But how do I let people know I feel that way? I think I'll make a sign that says, "Sorry. Feeling isolative today."

Biolar II Disorder

Part of the reason I decided to start blogging is to use this blog as an outlet for my bipolar condition. It's part of me that I can't change, as much as I'd like to. So this is the first post about how much I dislike being bipolar.

It has put a distance between me and my family and friends. People think that this disease is a dangerous one for them to be around, although the real danger is to me. SO STOP FREAKING OUT, Y'ALL. (In case you're reading this.)

My kids, my precious children, see the difference between the Well Mama and the Sick Mama, and it breaks my heart. Both Anne and Jean were telling stories today about made-up characters. Both stories involved a mom who took lots of naps. Damn you, depression! And anytime someone is sick, my baby, Ruby, says they have to "go to the hospital." There's been too much of that around my house. Danny, my middle child, is hard to figure out. But in his rough and tumble way, I know he knows that I'm not altogether there for him.

My sweet, poor husband, Gaby, has been in the trenches since this past Summer. He's taken care of me, the kids, the house, his 60+ hour a week job, and everything in between. Essentially, he's taken our wedding vows out of the closet and used them to the fullest. He deserves more than his name tattooed on my arm to show how much I appreciate what he's done for me.

One day we'll get this disease under control, and I'll be able to resume a normal life. But now you know why "Being Rachael" is so hard.

from gym to kids

I just got back from the gym, and I'm supposed to be high from endorphins, right? But my kids start fighting, and the endorphins run out of the door faster than I can. So I'm going to put on Adele, shower and try to think of something good about my children. Let's see:

• I have four beautiful, individual creatures from my womb who still shelter near me
• They have strong sibling rivalry, but that will help them to be go-getters when they're older
• From experience, they should end up best friends like me and my siblings
• When they think I'm not paying attention, I catch them playing together creatively - without plugging into tv, games or computer
• Other people compliment me on the behavior of my kids (?) which always catches me by surprise, pleasantly.

That's all I can think of so far. I've got that dried-sweat feeling on my skin. I shouldn't even be touching my computer. Hello, shower.

My Bloody Valentine (Fingers)

Woke up with a desire to stay in bed. This happens a lot these days. And the red nail polish I put on yesterday was too bright and cheery, so I tried to cover it up with a darker, somber tone. But I was too lazy to take off the red polish first. Now my nails look like they have blood underneath them. Happy Valentine's Day.

Elvis on my birthday

I got this note on facebook from my sister-in-law with Elvis singing Happy Birthday. Some might find this tacky and mildly annoying. To me, it was the best wish of the day. I've loved Elvis since I was five years old (really, ask my mom) and everyone who knows me knows that I'm passionate about him. But is it right to hold on to this passion when you've been married to a wonderful man (better than most) for 10 years? That's my dilemma.

birthday plans

Ok. Here's what I plan to do on tomorrow morning. This might be a little much for some of you, be warned:

• Sleep in for as long as I want, although I'm sure my kids will want to come and give me slobbery birthday wishes by about 730.
• Eat Krispy Kreme for breakfast. Not sure if the kids will wait for me on that one, but as long as I get one I'll be fine. :)
• Do my nails. I'm a big nail person.
• Go to the Botanical Gardens here in town with the family and in-laws who are visiting from France.
• Come back home and pamper and primp myself for an evening out with my husband! I've got this new red dress I'll be wearing for the first time, and I'm excited. Of course, my nails will match. :)
• Eat a delicious dinner at a fancy restaurant, although my mother in law's cooking rivals that of any fancy restaurant anywhere. Have you ever tried her porchero? You should.
• Come home and crash. Maybe.

It should be a good day.

Right now I just finished Adele and have moved on to The Arcade Fire.

Getting Started

Hello and welcome to my life. My name is Rachael, and tomorrow is my birthday. This past year was pretty crappy for me. I may or may not share that crap with you. But to get through what hopefully will be a better year, I thought I'd blog as an outlet. I need an outlet like a dog needs a good scratch. So be my scratch. Or scratch me. Or let me scratch you. Just wish me a happy 31st birthday!