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.