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What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

Once upon a time, there was a young girl with her whole life ahead of her.  She dreamed about what she would be when she grew up.  An actress?  Writer?  Marine biologist? 

And what did she become by the time she grew up?

Who knows?  She is still waiting to grow up.

I find myself still unemployed, still battling my illness, still leaning out the window squinting into the far distance searching for meaning in this world.  Still searching for what I'm supposed to be when I grow up. 

It pains me to think of all the years I spent being something I really am not.  I should have kept the geology deal to a fervent hobby instead of a career.  While I don't wish to go back in time to change my life (because my life lead me to Gracie), I do wonder why I made the choices I made in life.  Why did I choose St. Norbert for math instead of Knox College for writing?  Why did I choose grad school instead of a lucrative entry level position with the USGS down in Florida?  Why did I choose UW-Mil…
Recent posts

Happy Little Ghosts

1. I have two posts that I've written but I never hit "Publish" because they are about my condition and they seemed like total downers.  One was even entitled "On Being A Debbie Downer".

Here's the thing: I need to start working with my therapist on accepting this new reality.  It isn't going away.  Medication isn't going to fix it all.  I'm going to be a hot mess some days.  I'm going to have good days.  That's called life, amiright?

2. My therapist cancelled on me today, which I'm 99% okay with.  I've got another appt scheduled on the 26th.

3. I'm doing okay.  I'm not amazing, but I'm not in the pits.  I'm working every day to try to be better.  I read my devotionals, try to eat well, do my little meditations, try to be kind to myself, take my meds.  I need to get exercise on my schedule but it falls under the category of Impossible Task so I only get to it about once per week.  And I can't examine why I'…

I have writer's block

A friend (shout out, Andrea!) suggested a post on writer's block so I'm writing it here, trying to coax out some sort of narrative to share with y'all.

But I'm blocked.  Blocked the eff UP, people.  I can barely string two sentences together and it is frustrating.  I like to write.  No, I *love* to write, but ...  but...

It's It.  It as in my condition.  It robs you of the joy you find in the things that you normally would enjoy but suddenly it brings you nothing.  Like not even anguish, but just... nothing.  Well, I suppose it brings the mild frustration mentioned before, but otherwise, it's more of a ho-hum reaction.

I am trying to work on a new story that has been in the making since I was a little girl and read The Hobbit for the first time.  I made up this fantastical place where I was the hero and I was tended by a gruff but loving uncle and I was a really good hunter but then my life was turned upside down when I realized I was Special.  I'm trying t…

Cruising Part 3: The Actual Cruise

I've been hemming and hawing as to best describe the experience of an Alaskan Disney Cruise.  I've briefly shared my experiences with inquiring minds, but it was only brief in that it's hard to find the words to describe a five night spectacular vacation on a magical cruise ship filled to the brim with everything Disney, complete with the service one comes to expect from such a company.

From getting to the port and being high-fived by righteously enthusiastic crew members wearing Mickey gloves to the luxury of the boat itself to the fantastic food experiences that just kept getting better as the vacation wore on to the wildlife encounters that one simply cannot plan to the glory of Alaska...  My words are wind.

Our quarters were large in comparison to the coat closet I had on that other pseudo cruise.  It fit two tiny bathrooms, one with a full shower and one with the toilet.  Dave and I slept in an insanely comfortable queen bed while G bunked off the ceiling and my mothe…

Cruising Part 2: Vancouver

Let's start with our port city of Vancouver.  We had the best taxi driver who doubled as a tour guide, giving us the ultimate scoop on Vancity.  The place was just beautiful and green and reminded me a lot of good ol' Wisconsin but with slightly cooler architecture and way better weather.  Sure, it gets pretty gray and rainy during the winter, but with very mild winters and summers?  Sold.

Well, not exactly.  Apparently you have to be in the 1% to live there.  Even small houses in the area are a million smackers.

I took some pictures of this lovely city.  So buckle up! 

 Here is a wastebasket.  Why did I take a picture of a wastebasket?  Because they have a compost bin ATTACHED.  How forward thinking, Canada!
This was a tasty Canadian beer.  It was some sort of a pale ale and I recall enjoying it very much.
This is my daughter and MIL laughing together, which marked the beginning of a very good vacation where grandmother and granddaughter could relax and enjoy each others'…

Cruising Part 1: Where it all began

As promised, this is a post about a cruise, but it is not the cruise that you may expect.

No, my friends.  For if you are to appreciate the magnitude of this recent cruise, you must first get a little bit of backstory.  People who have known me 20 years knows this story, for it has been told during the decades and has likely passed into legend.  A legend of threats of fire, burning hot pipes, AA meetings, and an unfortunate encounter with the wrong side of a very large bird.  Or was it a mammal?

What could all these things have in common?  Two words: Caribbean cruise.

Let me take you to circa 2001, when my sister and I were fresh buds of young flowering women, waiting to bloom under the warm sun of life and the nourishment of experience.  With the backing of our loving parents, we were offered the opportunity to sail through some early life tribulations with a nice cruise in the Caribbean, wile away our time sipping daiquiri's, gorge on the main buffet, horseback ride through Maya…

Huddled in my cave

I really want to write about the cruise, and I will, I promise.  But something larger has been looming and I feel compelled to write about it, if only to clear my head while also trying to help others.  Know this might be triggering for people like me, so read with care.

I can't write when I'm in the middle of an episode.  I can't do much of anything while in an episode.  And I'm not quite out of it yet, but I'm far enough from the eye of the storm to sit down and write about my experience.

I have bipolar disorder with a panic disorder.  It means that the everyday ups and downs of people without bipolar can be magnified to a trillion for me.  It means that the everyday ruminations and moments of panic that we all feel is also the proverbial mountain out of a molehill for me.

This last episode I liken to driving on the highway of life, following my GPS, using my turn signals, getting the occasional fit of road rage, that sort of thing.  Do you guys get that moment w…