More on shooting in Connecticut

A 24 year old young man went into his mothers kindergarten classroom and shot her and all of her students and the adults that care for them. Life is so fragile and precious and we just never know when the last time we are going to see our loved ones will be. This is a sad day for us. It just is. Also, this young man's father was found dead in his home and also his brother. Did he kill them too? They are saying now that there are 30 dead. There were signs before this. There were jokes or subtle comments. Someone got a feeling. This wasn't a snap, an idea that happened today. It wasn't.

Horror

I am sick and sad about the news this morning that 27 people were killed at an elementary school in Connecticut. 18 were children. This is horrifying! The reports say that one of the shooters is dead and another is in custody. No news yet about who they are. I'm so sorry for the families. So sorry for all of us.

Work. Love. Flow.

Good morning all. It's 8:09 and I'm about to get up and at 'em. Heading out for breakfast and then to work. Stayed up late painting. I do like my new work. I'll post soon. I have completely taken over the kitchen (my studio). But I like how the act of painting makes me feel, physically and emotionally. Yes, I should go for a walk. But I'm not going to right now. Though I think we are going to walk over to the restaurant down the street. That count? Love yourselves today.

Bling

"Keep your heart open and love will always find its way." Kay Jewelers commercial

Dear Therman

It's 2:43 and I'm at work right now. Thank you for your last comment. Last week mostly I was just sick with the flu. I actually did make Ann's event. I decided at the last minute to go. I had been resting for most of that day and the day before trying to heal. By Saturday evening I decided I was ok enough to get out. I'm glad I did, though I probably should have rested more since all of the symptoms were back the next day. Thank you though for being concerned.

I'm feeling pretty even today emotionally. I was a bit dazed on Monday after a conversation with my therapist. She thinks I numb myself more than I should. She is right. Though I have not conceded that it is a problem. Not out loud anyway. My ego is too stubborn for that. My reaction to the conversation is a tell that I know I need to make some changes. I have been trying to be committed to being honest with myself and others on this bipolar journey. Truthfully though, instead of accepting this and being more powerful about dealing with it, a huge part of me keeps trying to prove that I don't have this thing, this lie, these highs, these lows. But I do. Every time I turn around there is one more symptom, one more sign that says I do. Even down to the ways I cope with the shifts in my head. I have always felt this rise, this chemical elevator go up and up and then this weird anxiety. Pills and wine have how I have self medicated. Whatever pills. Codeine from the dentist, Roshann's headache medicine, some whatever it was the doctor prescribed for my cramps, whatever, oh...and wine. Something to bring me down, to help me sleep. This is hard to admit. This is the part that's not pretty. All of this. I remember in Landmark Education they used to say that there is no truth about somebody without the ugly of it somewhere. We always want to show our pretty. I'm no different. When I told my therapist "no, I don't have a problem, I just take something every day" I could have dug a hole in the floor and crawled in it. Who was that? Certainly not me. And when she suggested I go to group therapy sessions I looked at her like she belonged in the hole I considered digging for myself. I just can't wrap my head around standing in front of a group of people and saying "hi, my name is Jaha and I'm a pill head." I've been finding ways to cope with an illness I never had a name for until earlier this year. I never considered it an addiction, I was doing what I could do to make it through. I mask it well. I'm never socially visibally out of pocket (mostly, maybe, ok wait...) Keep a pretty cool and together enough demeaner. I'm ok, you're ok. Right?

Then there is still the question in the room. What am I numbing myself for? What do I not want to feel? Those were her questions, not mine. We talked. Progress you know. All of this was on my head as I drove home. My mind was racing with how wrong she was and maybe this therapy thing is not what I need after all. Of course I would consider getting off the roller coaster when the work is being done. Right in the middle of the ride. Then when I got home I took like five Advils to take a nap. Therman, I'm raw and vulnerable right now. I don't want to be writing about this. Someone though, is hiding this. Someone though, is on this journey too. Someone though, should know she's not alone. I'm afraid you know sometimes. Of my words, my confessions, my posts. Afraid of being judged by all of the people in my life who only see the pretty in themselves. Yes, sometimes I am afraid. And I get over it.

So that you know, Monday was the last day I took any pills. I did have two glasses of wine on Tuesday though. Nothing yesterday. Nothing today. Something can become such a coping habit for you that you don't even realize it's a thing. You know? Well, it's a thing. Sleep or no sleep. Anxiety or no anxiety. I don't need the pills. I don't need the wine. Ok, giving up the wine might be more of a commitment than I'm honestly willing to make right now. But today. Today I don't need anything. And that's where I am. In today. Thank you, thank you dear uncle, for always listening.

Dear Therman

I haven't been really posting but I'm well. Now. Been down with the flu since I last saw you on Thursday. I was ugly and achy and stuffy. I had a good full days rest yesterday and am ready for the real world. Tomorrow will be my first day back at work this week. I did go to my therapy session on Monday and...well I was uncomfortable but as open as I could be revealing things about me I have never really said out loud. Not ready for the details to be posted here yet, but we'll talk.

Love you, uncle and thank you for reading and checking in.

Me

Dream. Jail. Bridges.

I had a dream last night that I was in jail. I so afraid and every time the fear would become so overwhelming I thought I would burst I would get these visions of bridges. I don't know why bridges, but bridges. Big long ones with no traffic and some with bright lights. I like the symbol though, of bridges. What they represent. Escape. Enter. Travel. Above water. All that. Jail. Fear. Bridges. And then I woke up.

I thought about my own jail. Of bills. Of fear. Whatever. And alongside the fear are always the bridges. God. Friends. Family. Art. Whatever. They are always there, the jail and the bridges. I choose.

Work. Healthy. Vibrations.

3:57pm. At work. Feeling physically and mentally well although the sniffles are threatening to surface, but it's nothing a few oranges, peppermint tea and rest won't cure. I haven't been to Vibrations for the open mic session in too long and plan on stopping by tonight. I have no plan to perform though. Just sit in the most comfortable chair there and send and receive love. And if I'm hit with the stage bug, well then...

Painting feature

Morning all. Slept fairly well. Feeling much better. Looking forward to a beautiful day. I'm painting in a live art show downtown Los Angeles for Brookfield Properties today. I haven't done a live art show in many years. I'm thankful and honored to be a part of this production. Also thankful that it doesn't start until the evening because I need some time this morning to get it together. Plus I have to pick up another canvas and more paint. Well, it's 9:46 right now and I need to get to gettin'.

Enjoy yourselves today.

Free write

Today's breakdown doesn't define me. As hard as it was. The feelings of hopelessness and extreme anger and frustration and sadness and hopelessness again. That was the moment. I am bigger than this. Maybe I will always have these ups and downs. I will work like a dog to not stay stuck in this mess. I am thankful for feeling at all, even this pain. I am thankful that I can force out these words. I was angry even at this blog for some reason today and could have just deleted the whole thing in my anger. So I didn't log on until late in the evening. That and I couldn't write anyway. I couldn't do anything easily. Not even breathe. That's what this is. I am trying to give up saying that I can't explain it and just do the best I can. This is the sucky part about this shit called bipolar. These floaty fake ups and funky fake downs. It's all fake. Nothing is so much that I can really fly and nothing is so much I should kill myself. But this is the life, remembering to remember that.

Meds

Days like today I regret going off of my meds.

Mania

For the past month and a half I have been on such a high. Some days the high made me nervous and seemed more than I could take. While it felt good it was still a bit overwhelming. I believed the hype. I thought the doctors were wrong. I was feeling way too good to have what they said I had. Bipolar. There were days I knew I could fly. Ironically, I was in the air when I started to crash.

I was in Washington, D.C. over the weekend working with WomanPreach. As I was in the plane coming home on Sunday I could feel it. The sinking I thought I was through with. Why? Why did I think I was through? Because I just did. Because I had over a month of normal. "Normal." The sinking, the low, low feeling. Then today I crashed like Denzel's plane in Flight. All turned upside down.

It's 5:54pm and I am at home right now but must leave for work in a few minutes. I really wish I could lie here and rest for the night. That would be bliss. It's not likely to happen though. I had to get the stitches pulled out of my gums today and that was...eventful. I couldn't stop crying. I was not in pain. But I was in so much pain. On the way to the dentist, somehow I missed the exit and spent five whole minutes crying over that spilled milk. Bridget called me just as I was pulling into the parking lot and at first I was happy about talking to her and then couldn't take it. She was only being a friend but I couldn't hear her consoling me. I felt weak, like someone who needed to be consoled. But that is what I needed.

I've had a little rest and feel a bit better but I have this headache that I usually have the first day of the crash. I'll be better tomorrow. That's what I'm claiming. Today was hard though. Really hard. It's 6:04 now, I've got to leave for work.