Lucky me.

So this little blog story comes with a request.  To any of my readers who are proficient in photo editing (i.e. rescuing bad quality photos),  I challenge you to read my little story of inspiration,and then see if you can't make something acceptable of it.  At the very least, perhaps make the "star" of the show really pop out.



Story:  Okay, so....a cpl months back I was having one of the worst days of my adult life (in my psyche, emotionally, etc. Life was par for course). I felt so useless, burdensome, ashamed of being the brand of weird that i am, etc. I still loved myself,  and was proud, but I have an intense personality that's an acquired taste,  to say the least. Often my words or actions will be SO bizarre and nonsensical to people who AREN'T me, that my good/kind/loving intentions will actually be perceived as the precise OPPOSITE of the energy I'd attempted to convey, and ppl think I'm being a snarky insensitive narcissistic A-hole. This hurts a lot. So, couple wks ago, i was drowning in the likes of it. It just hurt to be alive- to be forced to be me. 
Aside: 4 leaf clovers are my 'thing'. I have a weird gift for spotting them and they always seem to appear in situations that are emotionally significant.  I'd found over 270 in my life when I quit counting,  and even one 7 leafer. I dont believe in luck,  but when i spot a 4 leaf cover it makes me feel like the universe is reminding me 'it'll be ok'. 

So back to a cpl days ago. Feeling wretched. On the verge of a panic attack.  So i went for a run, which is out of character for me. Weather was abysmal.  Biting cold, soggy slimy fallen leaves EVERYWHERE, overcast.  I came upon a patch of clovers that hadnt yet died off in the season change. I decided to to take the advice of the great Tennessee Williams, who said, "luck is believing you're lucky." I sat in the muck and wet grass and decided i wouldn't stop searching until i found one 4 leafer, as though to prove to myself that i can MAKE my own good luck happen. 45 mins later my fingers were numb and i found zilch. So i said, it wasn't meant to be. I felt more calm, and began to jog home, relieved I'd shed my stress. Then i slipped in a very thick particularly slimy pile of leaves, and face planted- not 20 feet from my own door. I lay there for a moment, thinking cynically,  'well, THIS may as well happen today, why not? I didn't immediately get up. I took the moment to look for irony or comedy or some sort of metaphor ot footnote to keep me in a progressive manner if thought. Just as I moved my arms to push myself up, there it was. I saw it. Amid this muddy,  soggy, frigid sludge of barren icky courtyard, one clover had managed to survive the nasty weather,  and stood tall and proudly like a beacon of reassurance,  not 4 inches from my face. It had 4 leaves. Then I began to realize the brilliance of the colors of the fall leaves that surrounded it.  I actually audibly laughed, and felt like I'd just gotten a hug from Ellen Degeneres or something. I didn't pick it. But i managed to snap these three pitiful photos, which do it zero justice. 

My hope is one of my talented friends can give it some oomph, so that i can frame it and remember the lesson i learned that day.    Perspective. Is. EVERYTHING.

Call me Diana Ross, 'cuz I'm coming out.

Open.  That is the word of choice for this blog entry's theme.  I only operate well with open boundaries.  When fenced in, I feel dysfunctional.  It has taken me a long time to realize and begin to actualize things, but I'm making huge strides and turning my life into the best one I'm capable of living.  Bringing openness into different areas of my perception is the reason for my successful progress.

I was raised in a religious environment with the best of intentions by my loving family.  However, I did not feel comfortable isolating myself from certain people, politics, other faiths, or lifestyles, simply because they didn't mirror the ideals of my own faith.  To me it seemed like such a waste or missed opportunity to encounter, know, befriend, accept, and even love SO many potentially amazing people; to disqualify them because something about them was not the same as me.  To me it seemed about as preposterous as choosing to only have friends with blue eyes like my own.

Slowly, I've struggled through my adult life feeling very different for wanting to openly love and accept EVERYONE, regardless of race/religion/sexuality/politics/etc.  When I would embrace the sentiments of Dr. King, John Lennon, Bob Marley, and the like, I would be haughtily dismissed as an idealist or a clueless flower-child hippie.  But just because people didn't take my point of view seriously, it didn't become less valid and crucial to me.  I spent a long time feeling ashamed of and making apologies for it.  I was a naturally liberal-minded, left winged person in a southern, christian, conservative, right winged atmosphere.  I'll be 36 years old next month and it has taken me this long to come to terms with the fact that- standing up for my beliefs, despite being completely outnumbered by almost everyone I knew, doesn't make me a black sheep.  "Standing up against adversity and oppression takes courage. One must be willing to risk their very security and comfort to do so."  That's what they say.  But it's not actually such a sacrifice for everyone.  For some it's easier than others.  Guarding and hiding my beliefs, and allowing everyone to make me feel ashamed of what I believe to be right and wrong, makes me uncomfortable in my own skin.  So If I didn't make this post, and continued to hide, I would still feel stuck.  You can't sacrifice security and  comfort if you don't have it.  Basically, becoming open about things is the only way to organically attain that comfort and security within my sense of self.  To earn it.  Open. Open. Open.

So I'm spending my 30's becoming open every way I can.  Open mind.  Open heart.  Open to acceptance of change.  And now......

Open closet doors.

That's right, I'm coming out.   Now, those who know me past first glance, know that I am a genetic female, have been married twice, both times to men, and I share 3 biological children with one of them, and that I'm now dating another man.  I guess it would be safe to assume that I am your run-of-the-mill heterosexual female.  Well, I'm not.

Over the years I have watched so many of my friends and loved ones suffer the slings and arrows of societal rejection as they struggled with gender identity and/or sexual orientation.

Now, I must take a moment to sidetrack slightly, and clarify something very important.  I want to point out the difference between those two things.  Obviously, all my LGBT friends and followers, as well as much of modern society already know the difference, but there are people in my  life who I know for a fact do not.  I'm choosing to use my blog as a means       to spread awareness, because even if only one person learns from it, my activism will have made a difference.  So for those of you who weren't aware:

Gender Identity has nothing
 to do with sexual orientation.

Transgender people, for example, aren't automatically gay.  In the LGBT quest for basic civil rights and equality, the masses we wish to reach are critically  uninformed of this fact. Ignorance comes from a simple lack of knowledge.  It feels very important to me to do my part to help educate.  So listen up.

It used to be just "gay" and "straight".  We eventually evolved to a point that pretty much all of society now knows and understands "gay", "straight" and "bisexual".  Open-minded though I may be, I admit today's LGBT terminology can be confusing and the variety overwhelming.  The current socially acceptable vernacular include:

• Straight
• gay
• lesbian
• bisexual
• transgender
• transsexual
• gender-fluid
• genderqueer
• queer
• pansexual
• questioning
• asexual
• ally
• homosexual
• heterosexual
• intersex
• cisgender

 Don't panic, you needn't learn and memorize all of that to be an accepting citizen.  The terminology is merely a label and to many LGBT it doesn't even matter.  But conversely,  to some, it means everything for them to be able to identify with a group of others who are the same.  Everyone deserves to seek out a sense of "normalcy".  Identifying with a part of a group is an integral part of their journey, so terminology isn't the issue I'm actually worried about  addressing.  What I'd like you to take away from this is:

Basically, there are two distinctive SEPARATE parts of a person's social identity and I'm going to explain them now.  I believe that a huge part of society's problems comes from people unknowingly lumping them together.  So please know, with every single person you ever meet, they have both a sexual orientation and a gender identity.

Now because both of them are supported and defended by gay pride, I can  see how it gets confusing.  But even though a person can be both transgender AND gay, they are mutually exclusive terms as far as their definitions.  No sentient human alive is exempt from having a gender identity and a sexual  orientation.  It comes with the package, like a belly button.

 Gender Identity- is the masculine/feminine/neutral balance of your mind/spirit.  You are not a body.  You have a body.  You are a spirit or energy or entity or soul our whatever you prefer to call it.  Gender Identity refers to where on this scale your inner self identifies.  It could not have less to do with genitalia.

                        

Regardless of what or to whom you are sexually attracted, you are somewhere on that scale, along with everyone else.  Male, Female, both, or neither.  The type of genitalia with which a person is born has nothing to do  with hetero/homo- sexuality. One doesn't need prescribed gonads to besexually  attracted any kind of way in one's mind.  One's genitalia is nothing       more than the equipment with which one has sex and/or makes love.  Yes, biologically, a man and woman can easily use them to naturally procreate, but we are a highly emotionally and mentally evolved species.  We are also capable of needing and utilizing sex for more than simply reproduction. Most notably, and perhaps equally as vital to the human race as is reproduction, is the ability to share love.  Physically making love matters even when reproduction isn't a possible factor.  All humans love, and all  humans deserve the same rights to express it in whatever capacity comes naturally to them.  Period.

 Regardless of one's given position on the gender identity role, there are basically only 2 terms that everyone should know to stop the confusion.

  Transgender and Cisgender.

Trans- from the Latin trāns- literally translates to "on the other side of".  So, tyransgender automatically means that person does not identify as their birth gender, but as something other than that.  Never  assume a trans person is one or the other, and never assume they are the opposite of what they appear to you.  If a person trusts you enough to let you know their very personal secret, that they are trans, don't be insensitive and rude by saying "Oh, so you're really a man/woman", or "Oh wow, so then do you have a  penis or a vagina?"  In what universe is it acceptable or appropriate to ask someone about their junk in any typical social situation!? Just because  you are made aware of a trans person's secret, it is NOT okay for you to push  them into discussion  about it, no matter how curious you are.   And don't say that you ask so you can learn and be more accepting.  I accept people on a daily basis without knowing a single thing about what's in their pants and whether it was biologically or surgically created.  Curiosity is normal and fine, but have some damn manners for crying out loud.  

The opposite of trans is Cis (pronounced Sizz when abbreviated on its own, and Sis when paired with the whole word: Cisgender.)  This latin prefix literally translates to "on the near side of".  Basically, a cisgender person coincidentally happens to self-identify as the gender of which they were born.  Cisgender are the majority of today's society, and do not get any grief for being inherently masculine or feminine because that's "normal" and  what's expected or what's "supposed to happen".  But I ask, if transgender  wasn't 'meant to be', how come it IS?  Things only occur in nature if it's what fate had in store.  Why cant we crossbreed a parakeet and an eagle? Because it's not meant to be.  Why are there so many trans people existing despite some people's beliefs that they shouldn't?  Trans people are simply different from Cis people.  Different, not Less.  

Our world is currently stuck in a binary view of gender, accepting only female and male.  But we all have a balance of both in us.  Some are more of one or the other, but scientifically, that kind of slide scale has infinite balances of the two "main" genders.  Onec can be neither, or equally both. Any arrangement of them is beautiful.  Example- I find this model, Conchita Wurst to be so stunning, in masculinity AND femininity.  First of all, I'm a total sucker for beards- (non- duck dynasty ones, because EW.), and omg those EYES and hair and figure... sheesh.  It may seem awkward to appreciate the beauty of the duality of the sexes in one person, but if you open your mind to how beautiful biology is in general, and consider it doesn't have to be black and white, one or the other, you'll feel much more comfortable with the pace of society's evolution.

So, that's what it means when someone refers to their gender identity.  It has nothing to do with one's sexual preferences.

Sexual Orientation- (gay/straight/bi/etc) likewise, has nothing to do with gender identity. A gay man, for example, shouldn't automatically be assumed to have a "girly" mindset. NEVER assume you know a person's gender identity based on the people to whom they are attracted.

Just to reiterate- To be on the respectful side, never assume someone is/isn't gay, or is/isn't female/male/both/neutral.  Again, the only way to behave is to make your best guess for choice of pronouns based on the energy they exude, and trust them to correct you if wrong.  You do not need to know their birth gender or sexual orientation.  It is only appropriate to discuss those things if that person volunteers the information.  If you mistake one's gender identity, and they correct you, calmly and simply say, "Oh, excuse me: SIR." (or whatever is applicable)  Don't  make a big deal or huge apology, drawing attention to the person. Take it as a lesson learned, and move on. No big deal. Be respectful.

That being said, as this is my blog and PSA, I'm choosing to disclose my orientation on those two scales.  I am a cisgender pansexual female.  Which basically means, I identify as my biological gender, and I'm not gay, but I'm not straight.  I'm both.  The term bisexual is too restrictive- indicating I could only be attracted to/compatible with men and/or women.  The prefix Pan- is latin, meaning "all".  I am attracted to men, women, neutral genders, and/or any variation thereof.  Simply put- I am attracted to human adults.

So, technically, I've never had to face the burden of coming out to the world and admitting openly what should be nobody's business but my own.  I've seen friends disowned by their family or church, discriminated against in businesses, verbally assaulted by random strangers, turned away from retail establishments, and even SPAT upon by a stranger.  They did nothing wrong. All they did was be born with the mind and body with which they were.  The problem with LGBT-phobia in society has very little to do with LGBT people trying to upset the order of things or being unnatural.  Unnatural...as in against  nature. Our bodies and sexualities and minds are a part of nature.   Naturally occurring.  Perhaps the problem is that closed-minded people are attempting to resist a scientifically proven naturally occurring part of our nature?  I'll leave that to Ockham's razor, but in the meantime...----------------->

So back to my coming out message.  Although LGBT does apply to me, I've always felt things were unfairly in my favor.  The ones who were teased and abused and rejected their whole lives for being different-the millions of people who have taken their own lives over it-who lived such lonely existences, unable to love even themselves- through zero fault of their own....  I've often felt badly that technically I was like them, but because I was Cis and because I've spent my entire adult life married to men and having babies, everyone assumed me to be straight.  I didn't have to correct them.  I discovered I was pansexual at 22 (but called it bisexual bc pan wasnt a known term at the time).  It's only by a technicality that I happened to fall in love with and marry 2 men.  I've never felt the need to come out, because it didn't seem to matter.  Perhaps it was just that karma was sparing me that pain because I already have to face similar societal rejection for mental illness.  Regardless, it's bothering me now.  I take my body for granted.  I'm a female in a female body.  How fortunate I was to to have that fate.  I love my trans friends unconditionally, but I can't even begin to imagine how painful it is to have been born in the "wrong" body.  I complain about my body  like most women, but when I think of those who face gender identity issues, I am humbled, and I shut my mouth.  Incidentally, being aware and grateful of my fortune in that department translates into a natural confidence I didn't have before.  I feel better about myself when I think of it.  I am lucky to have had the fortune of a comfortable cis life.   

But it feels wrong to me to hide behind automatic societal assumptions that I'm straight and simply an ally to LGBT people, instead of a part of that same family.  So now, I am choosing not to hide my sexuality 'just because I can'.  Not all of us have that luxury.  It's an unfair advantage that makes me feel guilty to take.  It feels like a lie.  Should I end up losing friends and family over this, it would be a shame, but no more or less significant than the pain of those who lost them due to  being more "obviously" otherwise-gendered/oriented.  I don't feel right being my kind of "gay" but being exempt from the same social consequences they face just because  my gender and sexuality issues are passable for the 'norm'.  Don't get me wrong, I am not martyring myself like I've made some sort of great sacrifice; I'm doing this for ME, because by keeping it secret, I feel like a hypocrite, and that just ain't gonna fly with me.

In closing, I just want everyone who knows me to know that I love and accept all people, appreciate all of our rights, and I tolerate everything but intolerance. Live and let love.

Make your own Garden Gnome Home!

I live in an apartment building, upstairs, so I have no yard.  But I have a 3 tiered planter just so I'll have some ability to still play in the dirt.  Today I made a whimsical house for my little Gnome, Smitty.  He is named after my late uncle, who used to help me build "Fairy houses" out of moss and found objects when I was a kid.  This project is dedicated to him.  I took pictures as I worked, and threw together a little how-to video for anyone interested.  I hope you enjoy!

Pip, Pip, Hooray

Recently my neighbor moved away and left her (indoor) cats abandoned outside in the cold.  The neighbors have all sort of pitched in and have been feeding them, but none of us are really sure what to do with them.  They are a little skittish, but pretty affectionate. They meow and purr for attention, you can tell they were loved, which is why it baffles me that someone would just bail on them like that.  I digress.

One cat in particular really got our attention.  He has sleek gray fur and piercing green eyes.  My daughter became immediately attached to him and for unknown reasons named him Pip. It seems to have stuck. Naturally, she begged me to let her keep him.  NO. WAY.

I share custody of the kids with their dad, and on his weeks, the cats take to me in Emily's stead.  Pip has really turned on the charm with me.  He approaches me gently, purring and meowing, then falls over on his side and starts stretching and rolling around the ground, as if to say, "See how comfortable I am with you?  You should totally adopt me,"   Nope nope nope.

No, cat.  You can't live with us.  Go away.

I don't care how adorable your

 meow is, we aren't adopting you.

I mean it.  I'm totally serious.

I'm not falling for that whole look-how-cute-I-am

 'Nermal' routine, so don't waste your time.

Nope.  Ain't Happenin'.

. . . 

Crap.

Welcome to the family, Pipperoni.

The Enigma of Stigma

I must admit, I’ve been called a lot of B-words in my life.  Both good and bad words, and whether only once or numerous times, most of them have, at some point in my life, been apropos.  Bold, Bright, Beautiful, Bubbly, Bawdy, Ballsy, Beloved, Bizarre, Blonde, Braggy, Butt-head, Bitchy, ...you get the idea. 

 But one B-word in particular seems to subtly invoke a ubiquitous panic within the average members of our society when heard.  This word, in my case, envelops all the aforementioned B-words, as well as lots of other words beginning with other letters.  This word is, in a sense, a good way to describe me.  But what I’m setting out to express in this editorial, is that under no circumstances does it define me.  So, if I am ever going to educate even one person on the subject, I must begin by admitting: 


                                  I am BIPOLAR.


 Cue the collective gasps, pity, and assumptions. I believe those reactionary emotions are why this word has been bastardized; it’s been overused, misused, misunderstood, and seldom defended.  Majority rule on this one, and the consensus view is: bipolarity is a very disturbing thing.

Typically, the average person, upon hearing the B word immediately brings to mind images of Joan Crawford’s Mommy Dearest, Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse, Tim Burton, and ‘that one person’ they have ever known personally or heard about who was unstable, dramatic, a danger to themselves or others, and completely unbalanced.  It is this bias that makes people like myself instinctively feel we should be ashamed of ourselves.  I’ve found myself feeling downright uncomfortable letting people know about my disorder, discussing it only among people I trust-- people I know won’t use it to hurt me. When it falls into the wrong hands, it can be used against me and cut like a knife, and unfortunately it has been in the past.  

But it’s so much bigger than simply the disrespect and judgment suffered by we afflicted with Bipolar Disorder.   The stigma is HUGE, and it encompasses ALL forms of Mental Illness.  I am not ashamed of my disorder,  I’m no longer going to make apologies for it, and damn it, I’ve got something to say about it-  so buckle up.

Gasp! Even ‘normal’ people can be mentally ill?
The recent death of Robin Williams affected me greatly and shook me to my very core.  It hit really close to home, as I, myself, am a survivor of suicide and depression.  My heart ached for Robin’s pain, but also felt empathetic relief for his finally escaping that hurt.   We all saw a fair amount of tributes, montages, and favorite memories shared in his honor.  But we also saw or at least heard about a number of people posting negative feedback all over the internet, insulting one of the most genius comedic minds of our time, and I was hurt, as a fellow sufferer.  People called him a selfish coward, or made light of the disease that is depression.  No one has any right to judge what they can’t possibly understand.  No one can comprehend the horror of suicidal depression unless they themselves suffer from it.  Robin Williams did not die ‘of suicide’.  He had an illness: chronic depression. Suicide was a symptom.  He died of depression.  

I played with the idea of blogging on this topic for some time; going back and forth for a while, never really sure what I was waiting for.  Then, a few weeks after Mr. Williams left us,  my empathy for him and concern for his family became so intense, I found my own mental health was taking a negative turn.  Coincidentally, my medications were not properly balanced at the time, and it caused emotional havoc.  I became quite unstable and went into inpatient hospitalization for a couple of weeks for medication stabilization.

It may come as a surprise to some to know that I have actually been institutionalized for mental illness 3 times in my life.  I suffered chronic depression from the time I was 15 years old to 33.  During my 2nd hospitalization, in 2013, I was so completely suicidal that I felt little choice but to undergo ECT (ElectroConvulsive Therapy).  It isn’t always effective, but I was one of the lucky ones and was cured of the depression.  I will, however, remain bipolar for the rest of my life, as it is incurable, but treatable.  In the hospital (all 3 times), I met some of the most amazing people I’ve ever known, and I’ve gained substantial friendships that I would otherwise never have had.  Not to mention, when meeting someone who gets to know and accept you at your worst, that relationship can only get better.  I met people who were there for depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, post traumatic stress disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, and many other diagnoses.   Regardless of the affliction, we all had one collective immutable problem:  We were incredibly misunderstood in life.   Some of us have a great support system of family/friends.  Others had no one.  Some of us even had family that was downright cruel.  But regardless of our respective levels of support, no one in any our lives really ‘got’ us, and that made us all feel terribly lonely inside.  It makes for a depressing life, and it usually snowballs.  I feel a huge detriment to our position is the ignorance of our society as a whole.  The only cure for ignorance is education, and I’ve decided enough is enough.  Given the sobering spark of awareness following the death of Robin Williams, I’ve decided it’s time for me to do my part and speak up for myself and for other sufferers- of any and all mental illness.

Mental illness is exactly that: an illness.  But the stigma that follows is a downright atrocity.  Mentally ill people are forced to endure unfair judgment, cruel rejection, stereotypical labeling, taunting, and just being misunderstood in general.  Mentally ill people are made to feel they aren’t allowed to belong, and should be ashamed for even trying to.  
     This socially reprehensible mentality has got to stop.  If someone had cancer, and was being insulted because of it, the offender would be deemed guilty of morally repugnant behavior by the majority of our society.  “They can’t help they have cancer!”, they’d say. I think the biggest misconception about mentally ill people is that, because our symptoms come out only through our emotions and behaviors,  actions and inactions, people assume we are actually in control of it.  They can be responsible and choose their behavior and attitude.... and we seem to be otherwise ‘normal’, so we must be doing it on purpose, crying for attention, or being self centered and narcissistic.  WRONG.  People who suffer from mental/behavioral/mood disorder have an imbalance in the brain- either chemical, hormonal, or neurological (or any combination thereof), and as our brains dictate our behavioral processes, it is within that imbalance that we experience a malfunction of sorts... causing the subsequent erratic behaviors/inhibitors.  Medically speaking, it is just like every other illness in that, the body is designed to work this way, but XYZ is missing/excessive/defective/insufficient/dysfunctional/etc., so the result is: cancer/diabetes/ASL/etc., or in the case of mental illness: Borderline Personality Disorder/Bipolar Disorder/Depression, etc.

True, the mentally ill usually have free will, typically normal lives, the ability to know right from wrong, etc.  So it may seem they are attempting to play some sort of trump card to sidestep the responsibility of behaving in a socially preferred manner.  A free pass to be lazy and irrisponsible.  Somehow society has come to see mentally ill people as the proverbial 3 year old with arms folded across her chest, holding her breath, and stomping her feet until she gets her way.  
Let me assure you- that couldn’t be any more inaccurate.  We want to be ‘normal’ (whatever normal is...)  Behavioral/Mental/Mood disorders make us act differently.  We are as capable of ‘fixing’ it as is Michael J. Fox of ‘making’ himself sit still.  

When the average person hears the term ‘Mentally ill’, they might typically think:

But diagnostically speaking, THAT is more along the lines of insanity.  I think another huge problem factoring into the stigma is that it has become the consensus assumption that mental illness = insanity.  While it is true that 100% of insane people are mentally ill, most mentally ill people, are actually quite sane.



Many were shocked that Robin Williams was even depressed at all.  “He seemed so normal!”  Depression- (The disease, not the mood we all experience from time to time) is more ‘normal’ than you’d think.  The same is true for many other mental disorders.  Although society is under the collective conclusion that we are ‘broken’ and need to be ‘fixed’, having any sort of mental illness is NOT something of which we should be made to feel ashamed. We are NOT ‘defective’.

Not all mentally-ill people are alike.  We do not all have constant, life-long super erratic behavior- the way the person featured in your most conclusive mental picture does.  But we do all share one common trait: None of us want to be treated like we are infected with some kind of horrifying disease.  


                    A closer look at Bipolar Disorder:

Although I speak on behalf of any and all mentally ill, I can only speak legitimately about Bipolar Disorder and Depression, as these are the only disorders I’ve exprienced personally.  So while the following seems exclusive to my diagnosis, I’m sure much of it rings true for those with other mental conditions. 

We are not so different from someone with Parkinson’s disease, who’s body undergoes very noticeable, even distracting physical behaviors that are very much unlike the average person’s...yet they are still their normal selves inside.  While bipolarity is responsible for some of my behaviors and thought patterns, it is not the sum of my personality.  Because of the enormous misconception of the word Bipolar, it is common place to hear conversations like:

Jane:  “Did you hear about that guy who killed his whole family and then drove to work and committed suicide?  I saw it on the news last night.”
Sally:  “Oh my gosh, no!  What on earth??”
Jane:  “Well, he was bipolar....”
Sally:  (lightbulb) “Ohhhhhhh... well, it figures.  Still, what a shame though...”

While there are certainly severe cases of the disorder, there are SO many variables that go into any one diagnosed person’s life that make it impossible for all of us to suffer the same level of symptoms at the same degrees of severity.  Assuming all bipolars are “messed up”  is as preposterous as assuming all churchgoers are honest.  

If my words can help to educate even one person, I’ve succeeded with this post.  So let’s go over a few facts. 

Fact:  There are different types and many degrees of intensity of Bipolar Disorder.  Not all of us are diagnosed as the most commonly known “Bipolar Manic-Depressive”, and likewise, not all bipolars are depressed or manic. 

Fact: In some cases, it affects the person’s thinking processes, concentration, and learning habits more than it affects their mood or personality.  In some cases, it is the other way around.  Personally, I suffer a bit of both.

Fact:  Not all bipolars need medication.  Some cannot function without medication.  Many have problems with feeling badly, taking medicine and therefore feeling better, and concluding they feel fine now, so they don’t need their medicine, and the cycle repeats.  For people in that situation, family support is crucial to ensure the person understands why taking their prescribed medication is important.

Fact:  There is no cure for bipolar disorder.  It’s as much a part of me as are my eye color and fingerprints. 

Fact:  All bipolars go through a continuous lifelong “cycle”, in which they will have “ups”, “downs”, and “plateaus”.  The thing is, so does every other human being.  The difference in bipolars is either severity of emotions, rapidity of mood changes, duration of mood, ability to ‘snap-out-of-it’, or a combination of any and all of those things. In those who need prescription medication, this is why.  Medication can sometimes reduce the severity of one’s cycle, making them better able to function and manage the more difficult symptoms.

Fact:  Bipolar disorder affects approximately 5.7 million adult Americans, or about 2.6% of the U.S. population age 18 and older every year. (National Institute of Mental Health)
The median age of onset for bipolar disorder is 25 years, although the illness can start in early childhood or as late as the 40's and 50's. (Odds are you probably know more bipolar people than you think.)

Fact: An equal number of men and women develop bipolar illness and it is found in all ages, races, ethnic groups and social classes.

Fact: More than two-thirds of people with bipolar disorder have at least one close relative with the illness or with unipolar major depression, indicating that the disease has a heritable component. (National Institute of Mental Health)

Fact:  Bipolar disorder is the sixth leading cause of disability in the world. (World Health Organization)

Fact:  Bipolar disorder results in 9.2 years reduction in expected life span, and as many as one in five patients with bipolar disorder commits suicide. (National Institute of Mental Health)


Fortunately, awareness of Mental Illness is on the rise, albeit very slowly.  There are foundations and organizations and support groups all with the soul purpose of educating for this cause.  Perhaps most the most notable are The National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI) and The National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH).  Some celebrities are speaking out about depression, like Stephen Fry, Jodi Foster, Catherine Zeta Jones, Mary J Blige, J.K. Rowling, and so many more.  It is no wonder so many talented and gifted people suffer from some form of mental illness; as many mental "disorders" are more often mental "enhancements".  Many gifted people maintain that, were it not for their mental state that allows them to think differently, they'd have no great talent. 

Actress Glenn Close created the foundation “Bring Change 2 Mind" with the goal of ending the stigma against mental illness.  Her sister is bipolar, and her nephew is schizophrenic.  If you took the time to read all this, PLEASE take the time to check out her website (link below) and take the pledge to help the cause. (It costs nothing, no donation required.)  The only way things will change is by we as individuals educating each other.  (You don’t have to have an illness to be a part of this movement, and any conversations you may have, armed with this new information, are contributions to our success!)



Edit: 
How fortunate that I chose to hold off on sharing this post until now; It just so happens to be Mental Health Awareness week.  What a happy coincidence!

http://bringchange2mind.org/about-us/our-mission/

http://www.nami.org

http://www.nimh.nih.gov/index.shtml

If you are thinking about harming yourself, or know someone who is, tell someone who can help immediately.

Call your doctor, call 911 or go to a hospital emergency room to get immediate help or ask a friend or family member to help you do these things.

Call the toll-free, 24-hour National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255); TTY: 1-800-799-4TTY (4889) to talk to a trained counselor.

Make sure you or the suicidal person is not left alone.

What in my what-meal?? What kind of blog name is that!!??

Yea, it's a weird title.  But I am a weird person.  With weird kids and weird family.  So, it's apropos, really.  But I'll still explain.

The little boy in the title photo is my 5 year old son, Elliott.  One Saturday morning, not long ago, I fixed him a bowl of oatmeal and left him at the dining room table to eat it while I got breakfast for myself.  After a couple minutes I came back to him, and noticed he had gone to his room, retrieved a handful of legos, and was strategically positioning them around his bowl, IN his uneaten oatmeal.  I had to blink for a minute and make sure I wasn't hallucinating from having just awakened a few minutes earlier.  Nope, he was definitely sticking legos in his bowl.  The ensuing conversation went something like this:

Me:  Uhh...whatcha doin' there, bud?

Ell: (dead serious expression) Putting legos in my oatmeal.

Me:  Well yea, I can see that.  But WHY are you putting legos in your oatmeal?

(He looks me in the eye with a totally incredulous expression, so odd was it for anyone to question what was clearly a brilliant idea on his part....)

Ell: (all in one breath, following an exasperated sigh)  I like the colors of my legos, and my oatmeal was just one color, and it was boring and it drives me crazy because I don't like boring food so I put legos in it so it has colors that I like.

It took everything I had not to laugh at him...but I had to admit he had a point...sort of- in a strange way.  (I guess I'll have to be sure to put slices of colorful fruit in his future bowls of oatmeal!)  Anyway, he let me snap that picture of him, and it was his idea to put the lego on the spoon and pretend he was about to eat it.

  That story is the epitome of the craziness within a typical day in the life of my family.  So there will definitely be more stories like this to come, as well as any random thing that strikes me as 'blog-worthy'.  Recipes, craft ideas, rants on things that get on my nerves, opinions of popular trends, and other vital information for your everyday life.  Stay tuned, I hope to keep you entertained.