Descent to Mania

Mania’s a rush, right?

Soaring energy levels; creativity effusing from every cell; productivity out the wazzoo; happy, happy, happy. Right?

Uh. No.

Try nightmare-filled, sporadic sleep; anger escalating to rage in flashes; callousness, rudeness, disgust — all followed closely by sadness, self-loathing, rose-colored glasses now encrusted with gray.

Ahh, but the nightmares provide quite the fodder for suspenseful — perhaps horrific — fiction.

Step aside, Joyce Carol Oates! I’m on my way!

Who ever said staying sane was easy? No one I know would suggest that; however, many can’t imagine the chemistry involved with keeping a person with Bi-Polar Disorder off the carnival ride from hell. You’d think a savvy psychiatrist would find the magic mixture of drugs to balance us out, but often it is simply not so. Besides, you might stabilize for a couple of weeks, maybe even a few months, and then you tumble downhill once again. Here’s my current medicinal repertoire:

Seroquel (treats mood swings and psychosis)
Lamictal (ditto, with the added bonus of [supposedly] preventing migraines)
Effexor XR (manages depression)
Verapomil (a blood pressure medication that helps forestall a migraine attack)
Treximet (when said migraine attacks, take this for possible relief)
Cogentan (treats what I call “the jumpies,” a side effect of Seroquel)
Pepsid (a well-known antacid, to [sometimes] prevent incessant heartburn)
Lunesta (the butterfly-commercial sleep aid, which I somehow need, despite the soporific side-effects of many of my drugs)

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I don’t know where to begin. How many times does a writer start with that sentence in her head? For me, it isn’t often, but today I am overflowing with so many thoughts, emotions, sensations, and a heart-stopping contentedness, that I actually can’t find a beginning.

Clearly, if you read this blog, you know my life has been very eventful, and frequently that has not been a good thing. So I think I can safely say “I know” in many, many situations. I’ve had the “I know” feeling repeatedly over the past several days, weeks, and months. The first was in response to two friends’ relationship that quickly smudged barriers, both personal and professional. Having been in a similar situation before, I knew immediately when these dear friends of mine crossed over into the all-or-nothing chaos of a clandestine relationship. In fact, I knew instantly the day “it” actually happened, and was just as instantly thrust back into my own dark, labyrinthin time, where the supposed hedges that encased us as we walked through this maze had actually turned to deceptively soft leaf piles covering sharp, painful thorns. As time went on for me, the leaves dwindled to almost nothing, and I saw all of the thorns, and I ripped through the walls anyway. The results, as you can imagine, were devastating — both physically and emotionally.

How refreshing, then, to find an instant connection with someone who isn’t afraid to speak his mind or hear me speak mine… and who is interested in a real relationship with me and me alone. From the time he first started calling me, I chose John Mayer’s “Say” ringtone for my eNV so I am reminded every time he calls that I can be myself without fear of reprisal. The labyrinthin path so shrouded with thorn and cover is now clearly lit and easily navigated.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!

Okay, I admit it: I’ve registered on both eHarmony and okcupid in my quest for a life mate. Doing so was never on any imaginable to-do list, but neither was a divorce. I tried eHarmony for about three months. Though I requested matches within 50 miles of my hometown of Louisville, KY, by far the majority of my matches were from many states away. Since I am divorced and share custody of my daughter, moving is totally out of the question for my foreseeable future, so my eHarmony matches were pretty useless.

As is probably not unexpected, here’s some of what I found on okcupid, a free online matching service:

okcupid: The most private thing I’m willing to admit here
weirdo#1: I’m a closet exhibitionist. No, I don’t expose myself from a trench-coat, but I have this fantasy of being naked in public.

And this guy “woo-ed” me and sent me a photo of himself butt-naked with his hands to cover his private areas. Eeewwww!

I shouldn’t be surprised about any of this, of course. I know that. Even my 17-year-old niece knows there’s a better way. Her suggestion:

Do what God would have you do, keep your focus on and run towards Him. Pretty soon, you’ll look to your right or your left and find the person God meant for you, pursuing a similar goal. That’s when you’ll find your life mate.

Yes, she’s only 17. No, she doesn’t understand the challenges a divorced woman faces, especially when children are involved. But her advice is so much more manageable than freaks on online dating sites, and her method for finding your soul-mate is so much more palatable than the debauchery of the bar scene.

I think I’ll stick to volunteering at the local homeless shelter, co-managing my church’s web site, and taking writing and technology courses at the university I work for: all the things I think God is calling me to do.

What will you do?

For those of you who have never experienced a migraine headache, I am overjoyed for you. For those of you who have heard about them but can’t really imagine, here is your opportunity to do just that.


  • My boss has been off work for the past six-seven weeks, during which time I worked with the director of another department to plan an important event for my office.
  • I have been working two jobs since mid-December while my colleague and good friend was on maternity leave.
  • I received a Needs Improvement evaluation at work last year because I received a complaint about my customer service skills from one student.
  • I worked my ass off this year to ensure I would meet and even exceed my performance expectations.
  • I have had migraine headaches for 23 years and have never been hospitalized for one to this point.

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Recently, my friend Tiffany tagged me with a meme to write my memoir in six words. While you’re supposed to tag other bloggers once you’ve been tagged, I really don’t have that many co-bloggers at the moment to tag, or they’ve already been taken. Here are the rules:

1) Write your own six word memoir
2) Post it on your blog; include a visual illustration if you’d like
3) Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible
4) Tag at least five more blogs with links
5) Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

Here is the memoir I would leave today. I’m positive it will change tomorrow or the next day. But for now, here ya go:

Creative writer craves deliverance from evil.

I’m not always this serious or intense when describing myself, but recent events have left me feeling precisely as my memoir suggests.

Life in Hell

A few days ago, I would have been the last person to believe there was such a thing as spiritual warfare. However, after spending the last two days in an abyss akin to hell, I’m beginning to believe that it does, in fact, exist.

[rockyou id=109267686&w=250&h=187]

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So what’s a woman to do when it’s 1:00 a.m. on a work night, and sleep is not even plausible? Imaginable? Possible?

Read about, listen to, and observe hilarious images of Tony Stewart’s Back Waxing for charity. Just go to the link above, click on the words “Click here for audio clips and photos,” and then click on the button that reads: Tony’s back wax Montage: Listen at your own risk! Do I need to explain the red-colored font? Okay, okay… Take a look at Tony’s back in the middle image. Think purple would have been a more appropriate color choice?

BikiniI’m no masochist, but having waxed areas somewhat more sensitive than one’s back in preparation for “bikini season,” I have to laugh at the baby-like screams of this tough guy getting his back waxed. Come on, Tony! You’re a wimp!

For additional entertainment, google “waxing” images. The lengths some people will go to for beauty truly are amazing!

Okay, call me crazy! I’ve got two wonderful boy kitties–Tigger and Bubbles–and a, well, some would say not-so-wonderful bichon frise girlie girl dog, Sparkle.

Look for yourself:

TiggerThis is Tigger–always regal looking, but a big baby at heart.

Bubbles Bubbles, aka Mr. Fatty, has a squishy jello-belly, long hairs between his toes, and a surprisingly bossy disposition.

Laura and Sparkle Here’s my baby girl when I first brought her home. Even now, she’s smaller than my boys, and she’s full grown!

What more could a single mother who’s living in a 980-square-foot condo want?

Hee, hee, hee… Continue Reading »

It’s Easter Sunday, arguable one of my favorite days of any calendar year, and I spent the evening watching SoutheastThree Crosses Christian Church’s Easter Pageant. (For images, go here.) Keep in mind, I can be a little biased about this drama, having been in the pageant twice before–once as a townsperson and once as an angel. Also, both my niece and my brother-in-law are in it this year. So you might think it’d be hard for me to be objective. However, balance that with the numerous bad reviews I got from several people who saw it before tonight, my 12-year-old daughter included. Continue Reading »