Home is where your heart is. I share bits and pieces of my heart with many people I love. In a sense I reside in many places. If you put all of the people with a piece of my heart together you’d have a small village to call home.
A time to vent is difficult to find,
Thoughts held captive by my mind.
Some things are better left unsaid,
As chaos rolls about in my head.
For years I’ve searched for the key,
As of yet nothing works for me.
A prisoner I feel to this disease,
Self control I use so no one sees.
Inside I feel like I’m a mess,
Forever wishing I’d worry less.
Coping skills I have a few,
They factor into everything I do.
From this prison I wish to be released,
No one cares even the least.
If I am quiet there is a reason why,
My thoughts make me a not nice guy.
Jill L. Ware
As I sat at the cafe having my first cup of morning coffee preparing to work on my blog, all I could think was how watching the kids and the holidays has me exhausted.
Eventually my mind shifted to what was going on around me. The tables were needing waited on, cook is trying to do both. Her waitress had called in sick.
My switch flipped to mania in a split second. I told her I use bot do this for a living, go cook I got this. I still have it. I rocked. I felt more like myself than I had in years, and productive at that. At the end of the day the owner asked if I could do weekends, out of my mouth came,”Until Christmas.”. And just like that I had added more stress to my life.
On the upside the extra income will help with propane and Christmas gifts for the grandkids. I keep telling myself it is only four weekends, eight days. I can do this. The question is how will it affect my bipolar or how my disorder will be while working with a second waitress? God help us both!
Years ago when I waitressed I didn’t know I had bipolar, I just thought I was a perfectionist. This experience will be different. I have many years of learned coping skills. Knowledge is power!
Once busy with hustle and flow, Main Street the place to go.
Alive with families supporting their own, Main Street a place outgrown.
Cars cruising up and down the street, A Friday night couldn’t be beat.
All you needed could be found there, Now people shop online without a care.
Hometown businesses a thing of the past, How much longer can Main Street last?
I’m guilty of doing the same, Main Street dying what a shame.
Jill L. Ware
Have you ever awoke from your sleep with eyes full of tears, the sadness enveloping every ounce of your being? For your sake I hope not.
Today was another one of those mornings. These episodes don’t happen often, when they do it is debilitating. I am NOT nor will I EVER be good enough for him.
The past two years I have spent nearly everyday watching what I put into my body. I want to be the body he prefers. I’ve lost nearly 100 pounds because his reason was she was little and I wasn’t. Ouch! Those words play in my head every single moment of my life.
My husband is still hurt that his ex wife cheated on him once in a fourteen year old marriage. Yet he has a difficult time fathoming that I could be hurt by twenty years of him cheating on me with his ex. Admitting that if I had not found out he would of continued to do so.
My psychiatrist says rule of thumb is if you stay you can’t bring it up anymore. I call it throwing darts. That is a game I am very good at. I can go months without mentioning it, my dreams were real and current this morning as if it had just happened.
I can’t afford to lose anymore weight without becoming sickly looking. Unfortunately, that is what he is attracted to. What about porn? Am I the only one that feels it is a form of cheating? I have lost count of how many times I have caught him in lies concerning porn. Am I wrong hat it makes me feel inadequate?
I stayed. He is my best friend the reason. Would a best friend kiss you goodbye and kiss you hello with the same lips that were just on her, and a little less cash in his pocketbook? Eighteen years he did this to me. No FRIEND would ever do this. Today I am full of hatred and distant I will be. I pray tonight’s dreams are of the love I once had for me.
Jill L Ware
It is not often I have the urge to drive my car into a tree at a high rate of speed. Yesterday there it was out of nowhere. That is how this works, this being these nasty mood disorders That have been plaguing me all of my adult life.
I try so hard to keep my monster hidden, yesterday was an epic fail. I really should name my monster within truthfully though I don’t want to be on a first name basis with her, my beast.
She doesn’t play nice so I’m thankful she doesn’t stay long these days. She says just long enough to show her ass and leave me looking absolutely idiotic. Not like I need extra help in that department. I do find enough job without her help.
I spent the last six months taking in nature and Photographing the Beauty I see. My avoiding being in society since Covid appeared isn’t because my fear of getting sick. I hide from fear of confrontation from all the people that have decided they can talk to you any hateful way they please. You know how true those words are, don’t you?
PEOPLE SUCK! I’m trying real hard not to be one.
Walking along the beaten path, trodden down by travelers past.
A creek runs parallel along the way, upon the banks it’s ripples play.
A twig snaps from some place near, it is my friend Mr. Deer.
The yipping of a fox heard from afar, telling me stay where you are.
This terrain can be a beast, it isn’t easy to say the least.
The beauty that I see, worth the trek to me.
The raccoon wears his menacing mask, foraging is his task.
As I near rabbits scurry away, after I pass returning to their play.
The squirrel it’s agility freeing, is content with being.
Hawks glide above with style and grace, something special is this place.
I know the importance of routine mental health appointments throughout the year. It did not occur to me the entire six weeks I laid in bed my depression and anxiety in full swing.
I assumed it had only been a few months since my last mental health visit. In fact it had been six months.
This week I had a visit with my long time psychiatrist. He reminded me that if I am struggling in between visits that I can call for a visit.
It’s amazing the insight and advice from someone outside my usual sounding boards. Where am I going with this? If you are sad, anxious, depressed or having a hard time functioning in this crazy world we live in. Seeking help can make a huge difference. Tell someone else your crap can really lighten your load.