The highs, the lows, and the in-betweens

I've spent some time considering life these last days. Life is crazy for the best of us, and I realize everyone has ups and downs. Every life has highs and lows. Your average person goes along in the middle, or the "in between", with occasional up and down swings. Everyone gets the blues, or happy and excited about something. For those like me, those with bipolar disorder, life is more than occasional mood changes; it is a roller coaster ride of dizzying highs and bleak lows. Mania and depression, while considered opposites, are really two sides of the same coin. Like best friends holding hands, they tug each other back and forth.

All my life I've faced these crazy mood swings, but it wasn't until I was officially diagnosed that I was able to trace them back through the years. I finally understood that what I thought was normal was really a bit out in left field. Now, being able to identify the different stages helps me to understand myself and those around me better. 

What no one seems to "get" is how dangerous these upswings and downturns can be. In the midst of mania, creativity sparks. Words flow like wine. My mind races, I struggle to focus, and I'm overflowing with effervescent energy. I don't sleep, and I don't miss it. Stories, images, thoughts, dreams - they chase each other in circles in my mind until I absolutely have to get them out, usually on paper. One thing emerges as most important, and everything else has to fall in line, or suffer and fall by the wayside, because I've only got energy and attention for it. It's like being high - nothing can touch you. Nothing can keep up. It's delicious.

Sounds great, right? Being so high on emotion and creative energy that nothing can touch you? Boundless energy? Lots of laughter? Excitement, fun? Sure. But the other side of it? Dark, dangerous despair. In the blink of an eye, you can go from high and happy to desperately sad, and vice versa. I've had days where my insides felt as though they were cracking. You think, if you can just cry hard enough, it will stop hurting - but it gets worse and worse, until you feel yourself splintering. Your very soul aches, to say nothing about your body. You can barely function, can't wake up, don't have interest in anything. Imagine being lost in a perfect, wet, smothering blackness. It's hard to even breathe. 

The most dangerous thing about both of these phases? They are addictive. No one tells you - when you are struggling to get better, on a more even keel - that you will miss it. Like a drug, you crave these phases. For one thing, they are old friends, aren't they? You know them. They are a part of your personality, your life.They shape your opinions, both how you view and how you handle, the world.  For another, the in-between of most "normal" people is really rather boring after awhile. Bouncy, excitable, happy manic highs are like too much champagne. Depressive phases are what I always imagined opiates to be. Drugging, slow, heavy. You want to move, want to act - but you just can't. 

When I'm in between, I am a totally different person. I look at the entire world in a different way. I remember thinking, the first time, "So this is normal? Really?" In between, I am a stranger to myself. It's not bad - it's just different.

I know this doesn't really fit in with the theme of "searching for bliss" - but then again, don't you have to understand something to accept it?

Some Thoughts on Happy Places

   You know that "happy place" in your mind people tell you to visit when you are stressed? Well, I have two. Which I choose depends on the day, the situation, and my mood. Number one involves a comfy cardigan, a quiet front porch, a cup of tea, and the rain. I can so easily picture myself there, perched in a chair or swing with legs tucked underneath me, cup of tea in hand. Watching the rain drops dancing with the flowers. Seeing the patterns in the puddles on the sidewalk. Listening to drumming water on the roof and soaking in the peace.

    Instead of the dreary gray most associate with a rainy day, my happy place is drenched with color. yes, the air is dark and heavy, but emerald grass shimmers and brilliant jewel toned flowers wave. Taupe sidewalks show patterns as the water soaks in. The air is soft gray through the steady rainfall. As my eyes wander, I take in the riot of color. Over there is rich brown - the trunks of trees along the sidewalk. To the right is the deep evergreen of bushes. To the left are radiant flowers - ruby, amethyst, opal. Sunshine yellow, deepest pink. Everything is framed by stark white porch rails.

   My second "happy place" is full of heat and light. There is an abundance of white - cool sheets under my body, filmy curtains wafting in a gentle breeze, soft linen on my body. Straight above is a tan and bronze fan, its whirring blending with distant birdcalls and the waving of palm fronds.Through the open, white shutters and french doors is the white and pale gold sand, and deep blue water of the beach. The air is light, golden with hints of turquoise, reflecting the colors outside. (I know it doesn't make sense, but it's my place, right?) I can lay here in total peace and repose, no one asking anything, and soak in the moving air and gentle sounds. Complete and utter paradise.

   Everyone needs a refuge, even in their own minds. Lucky for me, I have two. Two perfect worlds of calm and control. Worlds where everything is perfect, including me.

   Of course, I have two more happy places. Ones I visit every day. How much luckier can a woman get? =)

Order from Chaos - De-cluttering and Battling the Laundry Beast

Some days I think I can do this. Other days I wonder Can I do this? Still others it's I can't do this!
 I was the girl who never left home without her makeup, who was 15 minutes early for everything, and who always had a glib answer to every question. Now? Well, now I am perpetually late by 30 minutes, and I can never find my keys or my makeup bag (where IS that darn thing anyway?) If you ask me a question while I am doing anything other than sitting still, you might receive a blank stare for a response. Think Huh? and you've got it. You might ask "Why? What happened?" Well, I'll tell you.

Take a house. Add 2 dogs, 2 active boys, 2 cats, and an organizationally challenged husband. Turn it upside down, shake, and add 5 college classes and an ambitious SuperMom. Flip it right side up again. What do you have? Chaos. Complete and utter chaos.

Let me say now that I am the QUEEN of list making. I have chore charts, checklists, budget sheets, organizers. I have read and clipped articles about keeping things tidy, ideas for de-cluttering, cute plans for having the perfectly handled home. I bought a book called The House That Cleans Itself. I'm still waiting for it to start. I SO miss being organized.

Sometimes it makes me C-R-A-Z-Y. Especially when I read about bleached floors, handy little baskets, and pretty kids all in a row. Life is not how I pictured it. Not always how I want it either. But then I look around. Yes, there is clutter - but it is MY clutter. The drawings plastered on the refrigerator, the shoes I keep tripping over because my 6 yr old refuses to stop kicking them off willy-nilly. Papers piled on the table beside the computers. Toys all over the playroom. And laundry. Oh my God the laundry. Thank you Lord for my mother, who apparently enjoys laundry - or there would never be clean clothes. Seriously, there wouldn't. At the rate we go through them, I can't get them washed and hung up before they are in baskets, on the floor, in the hamper, or wherever the boys randomly drop them.




Before



After





The Books are Taking Over



All of these things are signs my loved ones are near me. Yes, I am still fighting the battle. In between homework, projects, and hastily pulled together dinners, I grab whatever is nearest and move it. Usually it is a shuffle from clutter on the table or counter to some out of sight drawer, but at least it's moving. Slowly. I have this fabulous plan - house is tidy, dinner on the table at 6 every night. Life moving like clockwork. Being the Mom who bakes treats for you class, who sews your costumes, and has fun up her sleeve all the time. You hear experts say you can't be SuperMom. I say why not? I'm not there yet, but by golly I will give it my best. I may be holding on to my sense of humor with both hands, but as long as teeth are brushed, clothes are clean, there is some form of reasonable food, and my kids are laughing, I am content.

Or at least I'm trying to be.



Books and Boys

I have always loved this saying. Most of the books in this picture can be found in one of my many bookcases. What are books to a person? To an imaginative 4 year old, they are doorways to magic lands. To a lonely 8 year old in a foreign land, they are friends and companions, something to pass the time. To an awkward and frightened teenager, they are comfort and escape from the darkness. To an adult, they are old friends. Full of life lessons, ideas, magic, history - books are constants in a world that passes in the blink of an eye.
One of my favorite quotes is from the movie You've Got Mail, even if it is delivered by a tweed-coat wearing computer phobic author obsessed with the sound of an electric typewriter. He calls it the basic truth: You are what you read. Having loved books all my life, I couldn't wait to share the magic in their pages with my children.

Enter Ian. As a baby, he would toddle back and forth between the sofa and the bookcase, carrying board book after board book. "Read, Mommy!" he would say, over and over. Now, my pragmatic, freckle faced boy avoids storytime. Math and science whiz that he is, he shrugs me off when I say "Let's read a book!" This is the child who, when asked to draw a picture, comes back with a bar graph and Venn diagram. There are times I look at him and think, "Who are you? What happened to my little boy who always wanted one more story? Where does this logical little mind come from?" As a confirmed bibliophile, I am out of my depth sometimes. I am anything but logical. I am impulsive, emotional, and impatient. Then he gets frustrated when something isn't perfect, or anxious over something we adults would find trivial, and I realize, so is he. Our minds may work in different ways, but he is still me. We share so much more than blood. We may not love the same things, or in the same way, but we love each other, and we are alike in more ways than we are different.



Then came Josh. The funny one. The artistic one. And once again, the stubborn one. If there's one thing my kids have gotten from me, that would be it. He was even less interested in stories and books at first, unless he had a crayon in one hand. Now he's a bit more interested. He's more interested in pestering his older brother.

It's taken me time to realize that you can't make your children what you want, or what you expect. What you can do is love them unconditionally. You can guide them, show them better choices, give them options, instill values, and expand their horizons. Share what they like and hopefully, open their eyes to the things you love. Like books.

Learning Happiness, or Mindful Gratitude

I was faced with a big decision, and after agonizing, worrying, and analyzing it to death for two nights, my answer came in the morning. "Look at this," said God. "Here's a reminder of the things you hold dear, the things you really want. Here's a reminder of past blessings.Here is inspiration to change your way of thinking."

Taking a walk with my boys, admiring the Halloween decorations and planning our own, is a joy all its own. Seeing their faces each morning, being there for hugs, homework, bedtimes, and even tantrums, is more important than money. Losing my job almost two years ago seemed like a disaster, but became a blessing. I have spent more time with my children than I would have been able to do otherwise. Cookie crumbs, cuddle time, and best of all  - spontaneous hugs, kisses, and "Mommy, I love you." These are my daily life, and when I am irritated and impatient, as I tend often to be, I need these reminders of the important things.

I attended the Interfaith Summit on Happiness featuring 4 religious leaders, including the Dalai Lama, and there I was presented with more evidence of those things I had just been reminded of. Happiness is not only possible, but the responsibility of each person. Happy people create happy ambience. Simplicity and mindfulness are of the utmost importance in acheiving true happiness. We don't get happiness from things we buy, but from things we do.

The saying "take time to smell the roses" translates to "take time to be mindful of your blessings." My goal is to keep a sense of humor in the midst of daily life, to make the most of opportunities to live, not exist. This is the first step to Pursuing Bliss.