a sinking feeling

a sinking feeling by Emily Sturgill 6/24/14

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
and your leaving for work
as you kiss me goodbye

all I see on your face
is anger and hurt.

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
your disappointed in me
once more again

somehow, some way I
have let you down again.
and there is no time
for words or apologies.

a sinking feeling,
as the ship goes down,
I can see with one look
your angry with me

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
I do not even have or own
the magical words

of saying I’m sorry,
because you do not share
whatever wrong I’ve done.
this day is off to a rocky start.

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
with one angry look
you cracked my heart.

split it halfways
like two sides
of a cracked raw
egg yolk.

a sinking feeling,
as the ship goes down,
as I sit here in a precursor to all my tears,
I know you’d throw me overboard in a second

hoping that this time
I would splash, sink, sputter
and finally
drown.

as the ship goes down.

Today’s a much brighter Sunny day:

Today’s a much brighter Sunny Day,

perhaps not on the outside,

but on my insides-which is more vital-it’s where,

the flowers of my soul grow.

It’s where the soil is rich, deep dark yet tender.

Like firm dark chocolate.

The roots start to twist & tangle,

as they release and begin to feed and grow,

deep inside my soul.

Today’s a much brighter Sunny day.

Perhaps not on the outside,

but on my insides which is much more vital-more alive-more urgent.

Very importantly, the insides are sunny-

from there Hope begins to grow,

building up to a Good Mood- a peaceful day.

Last night WE-my husband & I-

both somehow “earned” or “achieved” or “mastered”,

more sleep.

We both woke up happy & and in Love still.

It was very nice-to awaken to so much happiness.

Hope makes the flowers of my soul grow-

what do you plant deep beneath a wall of sleep?

What do you carry deep inside you?

Where do you hide your secrets?

Where do you keep your dreams?

Do they ever come true for you?

Mine do.

Today’s a much brighter Sunny Day.

The Stranger in my Mirror.

Picture 149      Sometimes Shocking to see,

the Stranger in my Mirror, who looks like Me. I recall younger days, thinner versions,

Once upon a time, I was most likely,

just as cocky as Miley-

just not as famous.

What do you do? Once you lose that smooth small stomach,

the perky C bra breasts, the stride in your step, the seduction upon your hips,

the fullness of your lips, when the age of youth disappears,

and you become a M’mam instead of a Miss?

When you look into the mirror, and a stranger sits?

Glaring back at you, dimly-reminding you faintly,

that beauty lies in the beholder-instead of the girth of your thighs.

I am blessed to look many years younger-than I really am.

It’s a trick of my Mothers gene pool.

Wrinkles and gray hair do not scare me-no way-anyway.

I really do not mind.

But sometimes, I look at the Stranger in my Mirror-

and can’t help but think,

I am rocking middle age, despite my Venus Size.

I can still feel beautiful even when there is,

a media war, a rampage of BMI’s, a negativity upon

the average woman who is judged to be

“Plus-sized.” I can still feel my beauty, when my husband

looks at me that way, he once did all those years ago,

into the land of yesterday.

 

An afternoon Haze

Mid afternoon, half past lunch.

I sit sweetly here,

pondering Us.

 

How we came to past?

This gift of a marriage, based on mutual trust.

All the blessings,

I somehow, in some small way,

take for granted almost everyday.

 

Your smile-which I Love.

The way your hand fits snugly into my own-

a perfect fit, just right.

 

Enough food to Eat.

A big beautiful house and

all of our lovely fur-kids.

 

All These things I take for granted,

would be impossible, if it were not

for the luck of meeting and loving You.

 

You are my favorite companion,

I get lost in memories of all the many

happy times. We have had our ups and downs,

But I always make my way, back home to You.

 

Depressed slightly

Yesterday, oh how I cried.

Huge horrible torrents of tears.

My husband did not know what to do-

he never really does, when I stumble

backwards into depression again.

My manias are easier for him to understand-

and he’s seen so many more of those-than this.

This black terror fit.

This wave crashing downwards upon me,

crushing me to the bone.

crushing me to my soul.

When I get like this, I cannot help myself;

I collapse in crying fits, jagged waves with razor teeth edges.

I cry so hard,  I barely make a sound-just this gasping breathe-this sobbing mess.

I realize, of course I have so many blessings.

I have a loving husband, for the most part a very happy marriage.

I have many friends. I have a roof over my head, bills are paid, food in the house.

5 lovely fur-pets. A beautiful house and backyard. Our backyard has wonderful

rose bushes.

But despite all the good-the depressions still sneak up upon me.

I cry for the have-nots.

I cry because I cannot find employment.

I have been looking over 18 months.

I cry because I have a history of miscarriages,

and infertility. I cry because I have mental illness, and

no matter how hard I try or which magic pills I swallow

I am still slightly crazy one day to the next.

I feel as though because I have been on disability so long…

that I have no worth as a person. I believe a job or a career

in many ways defines you, and for me? I have nothing but years of blank spaces.

I just recently finished a masters degree. Unfortunately, after I got it, I realized;

it is a slightly useless one. I should have gotten a counseling degree…

instead I got a masters of Education: major in art Ed with a core focus of art therapy.

As lovely as that sounds, nobody will hire me.

I do not even have a teaching certificate.

I owe a fortune in student loans…

This most recent hypomania-back at the end of may-

well it nailed me.

And now I’m spiraling downwards without a staircase.

Frustrations mount.

I struggle with broken-down-hands

to grab the gratitude, the blessings, the happiness

the optimism still there.

There is great love all around in this big beautiful world.

I need to find some deep inside myself, forgive my own

imperfections and share something pretty with the world.

Marriage remains undefined

There is a crack,

in the door.

The door is ajar, slightly opened

and peering inside

two lovers are intertwined.

This is not a scene for mass consumption.

This is between a man and a woman.

 

However, it could also be between,

two men or two women.

For Love resides both in hearts and minds.

Love is not limited by gender.

 

A private moment-

a soft caress

a union of two becoming one.

 

Best in private.

 

The beauty of the thing,

is in its nature, it is normal and natural,

to Love.

Although some are not ready to open their hearts,

and give much of themselves-

Beyond words,

Beyond Beauty-

Beyond a doubt.

(written in memory of Tyler.)

 

Love Letter

Dreams are made of paper.

They are Clandestine butterflies-flickering-

stolen words,

among stolen kisses.

 

Love lingers on

in a display-

of clenching fingers-

lightly coating,

a lover’s body,

in invisible fingerprints.

 

Creating a map

as two bodies

blend into one-

if only for a moment-

 

love lingers on.

Her ugly limited view of god

IMAG0907 (1)My sister and i

were on the telephone,

when i mentioned my husband and self-

maybe seeking an annulment

in order to get a portion of my social security

benefits restored.

She was furious with me.

She gave me a huge angry lecture,

citing the importance of Love,

and the sanctity of marriage.

It come out of nowhere,

this fright train of outrage.

She stream-rolled me, with

I would not end my marriage-

over such a small amount of money Emily.

this she said with words made of bees

not of honey….her quick judgement of me.

This extra amount of money would be

in fact quite insignificant to my sister.

Yet compared to us and all of our struggles;

Her and her husband live on the high horse-

She herself has never even acquired a

4 year bachelors degree-yet she has made it-

achieving much, in the world of hospital administration.

She was lucky to achieve so much with so little education-

just the sweat of her brow and making it up the

food chain by sheer hard work and lots of luck.

Myself, I hold a high school diploma, a bachelors degree in Fine Arts,

and a Masters Degree in Education: Art Ed and Art Therpy-

I also hold an unraveling mind

trapped beneath the glass,

of mental illness.

I too, have worked very hard for everything that life has given me.

The difference of course, is i roughly earn

only 6,000$ per year from ssdi.

She I am sure earns well over 50,000$

plus her spouse also works-he is a republican,

a private businessman.

My spouse works too, yet barely above

the minimum wage. He cuts meat for a living,

a honest job-yet does not count as high paying.

I do not consider us to be “greedy”people.

I also do not consider us to be”godless”.

he is an atheist and I am Wiccan.

She was attacking me,

verbally on the grounds of the sanctity of marriage & her ugly limited,

view of her God-not mine-not understanding-

I no longer follow her bible-

the law she swallows,

things we were taught as small children.

These beliefs instilled in her outrage,

that i could consider ending a loving marriage

just to earn a increase in monthly benefits…

She has not walked a mile in my shoes.

She does not understand how difficult it can be-

to subside on only $6,000 for an entire year.

Yes, I am married.

Yes, I do love my husband.

But is it wrong for me to want better for us?

When i have been looking for even a part-time job,

for over 18 months….

had countless interviews,

but no callbacks…

is it wrong for me to end a formality,

a paper contract between he and i,

that would increase my SSDI benefits,

by over double the amount they are now?

Is it fair to my husband,

that he pay for everything

and I do not pay my share?

She advised me to simply quit smoking.

This is a brilliant idea-

I often encounter by non-smokers.

As if it were simply that easy to stop?

Besides even if I did quit that would only free up 350-400$ per month.

Nothing like, the over $800 in benefits, i lost

by marrying my heart, true love, the man of my dreams.

At the time, I did not think losing,

all that money would be so hard.

At the time, just over 2 years ago,

I thought i would earn a nice income-

from a masters degree in art therapy.

but i did not.

and now, my older sister berates me,

on the importance of the sanctity of marriage,

and the strength of marriage vows.

Please do not beat me up with guilt,

over your limited and narrow definition of God.

That is not my God nor my Goddess.

We believe in separate things entirely.

Your ugly, limited view of God and all that

that must contain.

Beating me up with the Religion of my childhood,

Trying to prevent me from committing an unknown sin.

Your God is not my God.

My God does not sit upon a shelf,

trapped between ivory pages

of a little yet well known book-

that is used in many purposes to do more harm than good.

Sleeping slowly improving…

Since I’ve been back home-

I guess since Tuesday, or Weds or Thursday,

of last week- my sleep has been slowly improving.

 

This makes my husband very happy.

Although, I have been smoking

cigarettes, much worse than ever.

That is highly upsetting to him.

 

I try to explain that, no its not forever,

that i am trying to readjust to

the beauty which is

us.

 

That I am trying to cope,

with a hypo-manic stroke of luck-

a mild mania or mixed state,

It was not great, to have yet

another episode,

even if it was a smaller one.

 

My doctor says even though I have

been having more episodes than usual the past

2 years- that they all have been mild,

She sees that as a vast improvement.

 

It’s funny-in the strangest sense-

how many new people I met,

and how many did not really realize,

that something was a bit off with me.

 

The only ones who knew for sure,

were my husband-who i became paranoid of-

and my doctor-because she’s good

at her job and some sort of pro

at deciphering the Madness.

 

My sleep is getting better.

I am feeling much more relaxed.

All of which is good.

 

I’ve been in plans for leading

an Artist Talk-Art therapy workshop,

later this month,

We have been planning it at least 3 or 4 months.

 

The open art therapy studio and I.

I was kind of frightened I may,

have some sort of episode

and make an ass, of myself.

 

Now that I have had a shorter and milder

episode, all my meds were basically increased

so that means, I do not have to fear,

another episode for a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being bipolar can really suck sometimes…U

The nature of the “crazy-beast” is that when you are crazy, or going crazy then you do not believe you are crazy.

I know that there is a cliche about that, but unlike most cliches, this one is definitely true.

I know first-hand, because I am “bipolar 1-with psychotic features” -although current groovy dr. just shortens it to being bipolar or having manic-depression. It is more than a label. It is an illness. But it is a treatable one.Not easy to have nor to treat, but it is possible, to live a semi-normal life while being bipolar.

I think i am one of the lucky ones. I was diagnosed roughly 21 years ago-in 1992. Since then, I have amassed a huge group of friends, family, and trusted allies. It is vital to staying well to have some sort of support-network, whether its friends, family, church, priest, rabbi, minister,siblings,spouses,employers ect. You need objective persons in your life who can look out for you when you are not objective. If your really bipolar-you will not always be 100% objective. It is the nature of the “crazy-beast.”

I just had a major break-through last night. I realized I have been having some sort of episode-hypomania or mixed-mania, with paranoia, for at least the last two weeks. I called my Dr this morning to confirm this-(my husband already did confirm though) and to just let her know- i was on the same page now. I knew I had been sick. I complimented her method of handling it. Unlike past doctors I had had at Community Mental health-she did not directly address this issue that i was “sick”. She is an excellent doctor, by the way. I first saw her back in 1998-2000. i stopped seeing her because i took advantage of her, during an episode to get her to prescribe me medications i had no attention of correctly taking. It was long ago i was only 26.

I decided to swallow 30 depakote and kill myself. It was dramatic and extreme.I really violated her trust in our relationship.But soon after i did that stupid stupid thing i began to change my mind…when my boyfriend-(now hubby)-got home from a midnights job i confessed everything and he rushed me to the nearest hospital, most likely saving my life. I was given charcoal and was in the ICU for four days straight. That was my first and last ever serious suicide attempt.

After that my doctor broke up with me- i don’t blame her at all for this. So i started going to Community Mental Health. I went on and off for years-the off parts were during episodes….

2 years ago, yesterday, i married my boyfriend of 11 years. My health insurance changed slightly. We had wrongly deduced if we were to get married i would lose my Medicare and Medicaid-so he put me on his Blue Cross Employee insurance. Now CMH refused to treat me saying they did not accept blue cross.

I called my old doctor. I was very persistent, and convincing. I explained I had grown up a lot since she last treated me. I ask if i could please be her patient again? She was hesitant, but willing to give me a second shot.That was almost 2 years ago. I am so thankful she said yes to being my doctor again. She is the best and my most favorite doctor I have ever had in the over two decades of this madness.

Fast forward to the past two weeks….I became very irritated, the day after ,the day after, my 39th birthday. So like 2 days after my birthday-may 21-i lost my shit. May 23rd was terrible, but May 24th and 25th were much worse.

I guess it was a hypo-mania-(mild mania) or a mixed state-(both depressed and manic mixed together.)

If my doctor confronted me about being paranoid or manic, I would have stopped speaking with her-probably even fired her as my doctor.

instead, she choose to just listen-after i found myself in a safe shelter house for women with domestic violence she started increasing my meds.

we did have a small mishap with that-she raised my lithium too high-while i did not go toxic-i had dangerous symptoms and had to be briefly hospital2ized over night. My lithium levels never been that high before-it was 1.25.So she lowered it back down to its normal dose. And just raised other meds.

Eventually, i decided to forgive my hubby and came home two nights ago. At first, i still thought i was in my right mind-but then my doctor wanted to raise my sereoquel XR some more. A couple hours later, i realized with her frequently raising my meds, i must be having another episode. I cried hysterically for over  2 hours while mu husband just held me and told me that he still loves me. i was devastated.I was confused but coming to my senses.

And i was safe, he was safe, we were still married-it was going to be ok. To be honest, i am even crying as i am writing this-I feel cheated somehow, but by my own mind…i do not understand how i could so quickly get sick again-without typical warning signs? It is a very scary feeling to be paranoid. Especially terrified of friends and family who love you. I thought it was all hubby’s fault. What i mistook as physical abuse was him trying to restrain me and keep me from running away-i always run away….usually nowhere safe or good. This time was a bit better- i wound up in a safe place.

All i can say is bipolar disorder is a serious illness and “crazyness is a beast.” which is difficult to contain.