1. Decide that you want to find God in Hawaii, especially if you think you can’t or won’t.
2. Pack light. Trust that Hawaii will provide what you need. DO bring lots of snacks and water.
3. Buy a good travel guide. I trust that you can find the one that’s right for you.
4. Fly to Hawaii. All the while, hope that this trip is as good as you think it’s going to be.
5. When you arrive, look around. You are here! Isn’t it beautiful, even at the airport? Take a deep breath. Hawaii smells so good.
6. Get a rental car that can do all you want to do on your island.
7. Start driving, and look for a place to eat along the way. If you need groceries, stop along the way to get what you need.
8. Drive to your resting place, trusting that you will find your destination without getting too lost.
9. Sleep, and try not to let the roosters keep you awake.
10. Set out on your day in Hawaii, ready for anything that the island has in store for you. Maybe let the kids decide what they want to do, since they are usually very good at finding God. And if you are not sure what to do, follow the locals. They know.
Tag: Fact
Snapshot: Spring flowers
In the garden today:
And now for some revision
Hi everyone,
It’s been a weird couple of weeks. I am feeling clearer, and yet still confused. I am beginning the process of revising what I wrote previously into a state that is fit for the world to see. I think I mentioned this before, but I’d like to make this blog my resume. I want to go back to work, but to do what, I am unsure. I hope you’ll stick around while I figure it out, and offer your insight and guidance for my revisions.
Thanks!
A lovely scene for a grisly murder
I once loved a boy from Cuyahoga. It ended badly, but that was very long ago.
Several years ago, Geoff and I went camping near Cleveland. We met his parents halfway between our homes. We visited Cuyahoga National Park, hiking with our two dogs. We were kidless at the time. We found the park amazing, and we hiked ten miles that day. We brought no food, but we stopped for ice cream along the way.
Near the end of the hike, I found myself getting tired, I found myself a little bit scared. Not knowing why, I looked around, and saw the sunlight slanting through the trees, the light glinting off of branches and leaves in that almost magical way that it does. I was captivated by it, and I was terrified at the same time. Why? I wondered. I’ll never know for sure. It was a sliver of doubt shooting through my certain heart. Would I make it out alive?
We did. We returned to our campsite and Geoff’s parents made us steak for dinner. The dogs slept for two days.
Looking back, I realize, that peaceful park would be a great place for a grisly murder. It would be a peaceful place to die. Figuratively.
A View into Hypomania
Hi Universe,
I know you are reading. Â I know you have insight. Â I know you want to be supportive. Â I know you love Christi, and would do anything for her. Â You’ve been lurking, watching, trying to understand where this is coming from, where it leads.
Now we need your feedback. Â If you love Christi, if you want to to support her, tell her what you see. Â Tell her the beauty of what she is writing. Â Tell her she won’t lose that inspiration, that beauty, if she seeks help, but if she doesn’t seek it she’s certain to lose that inspiration in time. Â Tell her you see what I see.
Tell her you’ll be there for her no matter what. Â Tell her she needs help.
Causes
The exact cause of bipolar disorder is unknown, but several factors seem to be involved in causing and triggering bipolar episodes:
- Biological differences. People with bipolar disorder appear to have physical changes in their brains. The significance of these changes is still uncertain but may eventually help pinpoint causes.
- Neurotransmitters. An imbalance in naturally occurring brain chemicals called neurotransmitters seems to play a significant role in bipolar disorder and other mood disorders.
- Hormones. Imbalanced hormones may be involved in causing or triggering bipolar disorder.
- Inherited traits. Bipolar disorder is more common in people who have a blood relative (such as a sibling or parent) with the condition. Researchers are trying to find genes that may be involved in causing bipolar disorder.
- Environment. Stress, abuse, significant loss or other traumatic experiences may play a role in bipolar disorder.
Bipolar disorder is characterized by up-and-down episodes of mania and depression. During a manic phase, some patients can have a total break from reality.
But hypomania, which is also a symptom of the disorder, is a high-energy state in which a person feels exuberant but hasn’t lost his or her grip on reality.Â
“Hypomania can be a pretty enjoyable state, really,” Dr. Bearden says. A person’s mood can be elevated, they may have a lot of energy and creativity, and they may experience euphoria. This is the “up” side of bipolar disorder that some people with the condition actually enjoy—while it lasts.
When they are in a manic phase, people with bipolar disorder can have an inflated self-esteem.
“They feel grandiose and don’t consider consequences; everything sounds good to them,” Dr. Malone says.
Two of the most common types of behavior that can result from this are spending sprees and unusual sexual behavior. “I have had a number of patients who have had affairs who never would have done that if they weren’t in a manic episode…during this episode they exhibited behavior that is not consistent with what they would do normally,” he says.
During a manic phase, they may not sleep enough—but still never feel tired.
Even with just a few hours of sleep each night, they may feel great and have lots of energy.
Dr. Bearden says staying on a regular sleep schedule is one of the first things she recommends for bipolar patients.
Manic phase of bipolar disorder
Signs and symptoms of the manic or hypomanic phase of bipolar disorder can include:
- Euphoria [This has been a roller coast of excitement]
- Inflated self-esteem
- Poor judgment
- Rapid or pressured speech [Feeling the need to explain everything so others can understand you, not allowing others to interject]
- Racing thoughts [Jumping between ideas, reading between the lines, connecting any dots]
- Aggressive behavior
- Agitation or irritation [Anger at the suggestion that you need to talk to someone]
- Increased physical activity [Exercise]
- Risky behavior [Facing all your fears, willingness to open our private lives]
- Spending sprees or unwise financial choices
- Increased drive to perform or achieve goals [To write, to paint, to draw, to create]
- Increased sex driveÂ
- Decreased need for sleep [<5 hours most nights]
- Easily distracted [Not remembering something we discussed at lunch, not hearing my responses at times]
- Careless or dangerous use of drugs or alcohol
- Frequent absences from work or school
- Delusions or a break from reality (psychosis) - Symptoms of psychosis may include false but strongly held beliefs [What is N’s motive?  N is Ken.  In reality often there aren’t lines to read between]
- Poor performance at work or school
When to see a doctor
If you have any symptoms of depression or mania, see your doctor or mental health provider. Bipolar disorder doesn’t get better on its own. Getting treatment from a mental health provider with experience in bipolar disorder can help you get your symptoms under control.
Many people with bipolar disorder don’t get the treatment they need. Despite the mood extremes, people with bipolar disorder often don’t recognize how much their emotional instability disrupts their lives and the lives of their loved ones. And if you’re like some people with bipolar disorder, you may enjoy the feelings of euphoria and cycles of being more productive. However, this euphoria is always followed by an emotional crash that can leave you depressed, worn out — and perhaps in financial, legal or relationship trouble.
References:
http://www.health.com/health/gallery/0,,20436786,00.html
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/bipolar-disorder/DS00356
How the internet brought me my best friend
I’ve been thinking of this one for a few weeks, but the time wasn’t right until now.
Several years ago, when I moved into my current house, in my current town, I decided that I needed to meet some people. I had one daughter, age one. She didn’t talk yet, and I needed some friends. So I went online and used Google to find a meetup group nearby.
I was so scared, taking my daughter to that first playdate. My heart was pounding as I walked over to the house, and I wondered if I was crazy. What kind of mom takes her little baby daughter to a playdate at someone’s house whom she doesn’t even know? Why was I doing this?
But some inner voice (not the crazy kind!) told me that it would all be okay. When I got to the house, I rang the bell and waited. A beautiful woman with glowing orange hair opened the door. Her smile was like the sun. I took one look at her and I knew we would be friends. My daugher and I went inside and we met her daughter, who also had very bright orange hair.
The funny thing is that the house where the playdate was was not hers. The owner of the house had to take her daughter to the doctor, but offered her home as a haven for the playdate. True story.
I’m still good friends with both of them, but the woman with orange hair? She’s my best friend. If you are her, I love you. You make me have trust in the world. Happy birthday.
My mom and pain
I’m writing this because it needs to be said right now, but I’m jumping around in my story.
My mom had rheumatoid arthritis all of her adult life. Rheumatoid arthritis is an autoimmune disease. You know, a disease in which your immune system turns on your body, fighting against it instead of for it?
Well, my mom lived with a lot of pain. All of her life. She had another daughter (that’s a story for another day). She went through a divorce. That divorce tore her apart and drove her crazy, and at about my age (35), she went through a period of soul searching. She went through a time where no one believed anything that she said. She even spent some time in a mental institution. All the while, living with her real physical pain.
The thing about my mom, the thing which was most striking about her, was her complete and utter lack of complaint about her pain. She never talked about it. The only thing that ever came out of my mom’s mouth was joy. Positivity. She just exuded that.
So, I wonder. where did all the pain go? When I am in pain, I need to let it out. That’s what’s happening here, on this blog. But my mom didn’t let her pain out. Except through her art. She was a fantastic artist, and I plan to get some of her art on here.
But even her art was positive. Never dark, never edgy. She never let more than one thing out of her. So, my theory is that her body was a vessel for her pain, and that’s why she hurt so much.
So much of my life has been lived in opposition to family members and friends who are different from me. I try to revise myself based on their bad examples. I want to be healthy. To even have the word crazy associated with me in any way is like stabbing myself in the eye with a pin. I cannot stand the pain, but I also know that I cannot hold the pain inside. It would be a self-fulfilling prophesy. So, instead, I am writing this blog. I’m going to put all of my pain here.
Then, readers and friends, I am going to need your help to edit myself. I need revision, constant revision. I want to be healthy.
I went to church today
I haven’t been to church, not except for my mom’s funeral memorial, for probably close to 20 years. But I felt drawn to church today and I was not wrong. I found a lot of answers there. And many more questions than I started with. I did not have communion but I did want to. The pastor offered me a blessing, but knowing that I’m Jewish he did not offer communion. I hesitated a moment before I decided that I’m on a hunger strike.
I made this art with my daughter and my awesome mother-in-law. It was restorative and generative at once.
Musings on a boy who I loved once
I had a boyfriend once, long long ago before reality set in. I loved that guy.  I can’t give him an alias. I don’t know him well enough, and I know him too well. His name began with D.
He wouldn’t, couldn’t do something that I asked. He wasn’t mature enough. His revelation felt like rejection to me. From there on out, our relationship was a downward spiral. It’s okay. We were just not ready for each other.
But that rejection started a process for me. I’ll call it closing. For a while I was no good to him, or to myself. We broke up.
It was horrible for me. I had given him a room in my heart. It was a nice comfy room, with sofas and chairs, a game table, lots of windows so the sun could pour in. Friends could come and go whenever they wanted. Books lined shelves on the walls and music was always on. He sang to me. I loved that room. I liked that room. That room was interesting.
Then I felt that to survive, I had to board that room up. The pain of leaving the door open was too much for me to bear. So I went to Home Depot. I bought the lumber, the nails, the hammer with money that I borrowed from Geoff. I rented the truck, and I loaded it myself, all the time cursing and swearing because it was so much work.
I brought the lumber in, and I did the work. I boarded up that beautiful room. I left one little crack, and every once in a while, I went and peeked in. Guy with dark hair and brown eyes from afar at a concert? Oh! A glimpse of the sun through that tiny hole.
Lately, I don’t look through the hole anymore. I didn’t need to once I added three more sunny rooms to my heart. I’ve added a lot of great nooks, too. Ones that I think D. would really like if I worked up the courage to do some more demo work.
A note to my therapist
Do you have any kids?
I need you to want to help me.
I want you to be able to trust me, that I will ask for help if I need it.
I am suggestible. Work with me to develop the positive. Ask me what’s right. I will ask you about the negative when I’m ready to talk about it.
I don’t want you to diagnose me. Symptoms are just signs of me not understanding my feelings. Symptoms are not signs of illness. If I’m doing something unhealthy repeatedly, it’s only because I haven’t realized that it’s unhealthy yet. I need you to teach me that it’s not healthy. Teach me. Telling me makes me angry. Instead, try letting me read it in a textbook or a journal. Or a novel with a character with those symptoms. I’ll never fault the messenger if I can see the message as something separate. I know that you know what you know. I respect that. But I need to learn it for myself.
And I really need you to be patient with me. I want to be well. It’s what I want most in life. It’s what I’d never sacrifice, trade, bargain on, or have stolen from me. I will fight to be well until the day I die. What’s more, I want everyone else to be well, too.
So please, please don’t diagnose me.