Some third person writing…
“My mother had a hard time of life, caught between what she felt somedays and what she felt others and then of course the bruises the world leaves on a person. She needed daily reminders of magic, beauty and hope. So she painted them on the walls, tattooed them on her body, carried them in her name. Each a specific reminder of a specific bit of magic. A little bandage over a deep wounded soul. She had a tattoo on her left wrist that said “Achelois” which is a Greek moon goddess the people prayed to for easing of their pain. To remind her that pain can be eased. She had a bird in cherry blossoms on her left bicep to remember that freedom, beauty, and simplicity are right in front of us everyday in nature. The tattoos on her right bicep were a quill and ink well, music notes and a Walter Scott poem that read “in the Bonnie cells of bedlam ere I was one and twenty, with hempen bracelets strong and merry whips ding dong and prayer and fasting plenty” with the Roman numeral for 5,000. The poem and roman numeral are to remember those that were forgotten in mental institutions in the early 1900s and throughout the centuries. Those that no one loved, those that were left and forgotten, she is saying, I love you, I found you and I remember you. The inkwell and quill and music notes are a reminder that words and music can bring so much healing and they made up such a vital part of her. I recall her telling me, “It’s me saying to myself, ‘always remember you love to write and never forget what it’s done for you. ” She even changed her middle name from Caitlin to Percalaine, because of a movie quote that she needed to hold in her heart. It was from the movie A Long Song for Bobby Long. The main character was a girl who had been left with her grandmother by her mother. Her name was Purslane humminy will and on her mother’s passing she returns to New Orleans to go to her funeral. She meets a neighbor and she tells him her name and he replies “Your mama thought you were golden so we named you after yellow flowers and corn. This is you here…pretty, golden purslane.” She quickly responds, “Purslane’s really a weed, you know. A neighbor told me when I was 9 and I ran over his tomato plants. He said all gardeners hate purslane.”
” Yeah, and dandelions. Doesn’t stop kids from making wishes on ’em.”
My mother had always felt broken so she chose a name to remember other people counting you out means nothing. Weeds are the flowers small children love best and the ones that contain the magic. She changed the spelling so she could own it completely. She was also stubborn and fiercely independent, so on her right shoulder blade she had cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. Turn your pain into something beautiful and you make the world a little less painful.”
Love. Love. Love.
My family is full of crazies, real, diagnosed crazies. My dad’s side is chock full of extraordinarily intelligent, ambitious, lawyers, judges, inventors and businessmen that all had serious anxiety, bi-polar disorder, and who knows what else. My genetics has played a huge role in my life. When looking at my ancestors, I see their failings, their problems, the loneliness, the disorders, but I also see their successes and the amazing things they accomplished. It gives me hope and reminds me that the illnesses can give you lots of amazing gifts as well. It is something I have to remind myself of, as well as, not to see every little thing my sons do as a symptom of some future disorder. I know that it will be okay if they do end up with this life and genetics isn’t everything! I was a biology (pre-med) major before the most recent breakdown that has lead to the current hiatus from school. When I took Genetics I did well and all but I hated it. I always thought it would be this fascinating and exciting thing but it really wasn’t. There’s only so many times you can drug the fruit flies and count them and their mutations and breed them again before it becomes quite boring. But to each scientist his own science. I really can’t wait to go back to school, my brain is shriveling! <—we are watching monsters vs. aliens and it inspired that.
Side notes, Currently amidst a fibromyalgia flare up, yikes, but the sun is wonderful, and I can't wait for Cloud Atlas to come out on DVD in May.
Sorry for rambling.
Love. Love. Love.
I have taken a break from writing this week or so because of all the events that have been happening in our country. What could I say that would compare to the explosions across our country? I just need a break from the news, need some romance and happy endings. Some would argue that finding the bombers is a happy ending, and I guess it is as good as it gets, but the arrest of a child that has done horrible things is unnerving and far from comforting. Psychopaths come in every size, shape and age though, I suppose.
It kind of reminds me of a Doctor Who episode (yeahhh I know ), where the 9th doctor is in WWII London and in the end is able to save every single person and reverse the damage done but he says “Oh come on. Give me a day like this. Give me this one..I need more days like this….Everybody lives, Rose! Just this once! Everybody lives!”
We all need more days where everybody lives, everybody is okay, so lets all take a break, breathe, cry if you must, and then carry on because what else is there to do?
love. love. love.
Extra love to every human suffering today all around the world from all of our human evils. My heart holds it for you today.
I’ve never been a truly naive person. There were times in highschool I had two jobs and have always taken care of myself well, but I have always, somewhat purposively, kept the real world at bay. I have never been able to watch the news or to hear of the horrible things in the world. I hate that about myself because I feel as human beings it is our responsibility to learn about the world and even the horrific (especially the horrific) in order to change and improve it. Loss and abuse are things that I have known personally and I find sad things comforting…to a point. I can’t watch truly awful things happen to other people. I can’t even watch MMA fights because the brutality bothers me so much. When I watch the news, when I hear of horrible things happening to other people it isn’t a short term discomfort, it is a heavy weight I can not shake. I remember news stories from years and years ago, some I think about almost everyday. It can get kind of insane and I just can’t do it.
If you have ever read The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd (Beautiful book!!!) there is a character, May Boatwright, and she is affected by everything. She cries uncontrollably over even the simplest worries. She has a wall that they call the wailing wall where she stuffs pieces of papers that she would write the worries and heaviness on just to give them to something else to hold. While hers is to a super, extreme point, sometimes I feel just like May. Maybe some people can handle 100% of reality, 98% of the time, but for me, as shameful, as it might be…I just can’t do it. I wasn’t built for it. My head can be in the clouds at times and I always thought…I don’t know what I thought….but now, lately I think its because the heaviness of all this life is breaking me. I feel 20 years older than I am and 50 years more tired.
Anyways, on a lighter note (haha see what I did there?) sleep number beds are the best when you sleep in the middle. No joke.
love. love. love.
So today has consisted of baby oranges all over the house courtesy of the little men, Busytown mysteries on Netflix, a short trip out and then a lot of other small events that I’m not even sure how it got to be 5 o clock. The monotony of everyday stay at home mom life and a sadness that hasn’t waivered for days has left me wanting a dog….another dog. We have an 8 year old mutt who is great. He is part bassett hound and part cocker spaniel which comes out to look like a mini golden retriever. His name is Boston and we got him when me and viktor first moved in together 5 years ago. I really just want a big dog, something new and fun but permanent. I know better though, we are way too poor and way too cramped in our apartment as it is. Not to mention the fact that I have been having a hard enough time getting up to take care of the boys and our current dog that, realistically, any short term gain from the excitement of a new pup probably wouldn’t last. Obviously not going to do anything rash but a big friendly dog would be nice. haha I’ve done this before, it always happens. I’ve only acted on it twice :).
I feel so numb and exhausted and irritable. Send love and maybe some good excitement my way.
Also, I really do love Boston (our dog) so don’t worry about the old pup. He can just be a grouch and I want a dog again that the babes can play with and not have to worry about so much.
and while I am at it this is our cat…his name is Cat and he really is the sweetest most tolerant feline in the world.
love. love. love.
As I sit down to write this second post and try to open up to the complete strangers that may read this eventually and even scarier for me, the friends and family, that will read this probably sooner I wonder how much to open up. This sickly sweet wine is telling me to spill my guts, but my other brain, the introvert/anxiety ridden part of me is telling me to close the computer and watch a movie. I’ll do my best to be open and honest without sounding insane.
I haven’t read a whole lot of blogs so I could be terribly misinformed but I have never ever come across one that talks about what it is like being a mother and wife with mental illness. It is definitely, most likely, the stigma because I have, however, come across (many times in many forums) comments about how people with mental illness shouldn’t be allowed to have children, among many other ignorant and awful statements. Most people don’t really understand what the word Bi-polar means or what any of the other disorders really are beyond what Hollywood likes to portray them as and definitely not what living with them everyday is like. I have been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and possible schizoaffective disorder, along with generalized anxiety and I count things in fives over and over when I am stressed or uncomfortable to help keep me calm and my thought process linear. The counting doesn’t negatively affect my life so it is not something that is addressed much, it is just a fact that i live with. Mental illnesses are so complicated and present differently in different people and that is why many people get a wrong diagnosis over and over or don’t ever get a definitive diagnosis (hence the “possible” schizoaffective.) I cycle quickly, therefore am considered Bi-polar II. I can cycle between hypo-mania to deep depression within hours or days. Bi-polar I is characterized by the episodes lasting significantly longer, weeks or months and full blown Manic episodes. The Schizoaffective presents itself in me when my depression gets too deep or my mania gets too high and believe it or not it can even be worsened by hormones before my period. Schizoaffective is characterized by psychotic symptoms and mood disruptions. I, for example, hear voices from time to time, and can have severe delusions.
Now, take a deep breathe, don’t call social services, I am okay, I promise. I love my children, I am a good mom and my disorders are pretty well controlled by medication and a lot of hard work I have do every single day. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought “am I the right person to be a mom? am I just going to mess them up beyond repair?” but I’m pretty sure every mom has thought the same thing, I just happen to have some paperwork that doesn’t look so great constantly reminding me of what I have to beat. Anyways, hope you will follow along!
love. love. love.
” You are the poem I never knew how to write and this life is the story I have always wanted to tell.”
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
I guess in the first post you should explain why you decided to jump on WordPress one random evening and sign up, right? Well, mostly, my babes are bogged down with allergies today so we have been watching movies and napping (NOT my 3 year old mind you, he wouldn’t want anyone to think he was napping) and so I had some time to do something out of the ordinary. This is where I ended up! Where to begin? My husband, me and our two little boys recently moved back to North Carolina after a 4 year stint in West Virginia. We are excited to be back but moving is stressful and it feels the universe has been working against us most of the time. Oddly enough until this moment I didn’t even realize we had lived there for only 4 years. When we moved to West Virginia we had only been together for 1 year and I was about 4 or 5 months pregnant with Anders. We moved to be near family and so we could finish our education. 4 years later, my husband has finished college and after a few jobs but none good enough to support our family we made the decision to move back to Charlotte North Carolina with hope for a better job market. I am half way through but taking a break at the moment to be with our TWO babies! 4 years….that is it. As I make more posts you will hopefully get to know us better and I hope this becomes something meaningful, but for now the tiny general (Patton) has a awakened and I must go to him.
love. love. love.