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Finding Your Tribe: When Life’s Dealt You a Crappy Hand

Let’s face it, parenting is hard enough without throwing mental health issues, chronic pain, or neurodivergence into the mix. It’s like trying to juggle flaming chainsaws while riding a unicycle – on a tightrope. Over a pit of hungry alligators.

First off, let’s address the elephant in the room: isolation. When you’re dealing with bipolar disorder, fibromyalgia, ADHD, or raising a kid with autism, it can feel like you’re on a deserted island. A really shitty deserted island where the coconuts are actually grenades and the sand is made of Legos. But you’re not alone. There are tons of us out here, fumbling through life, trying not to fuck up too badly. Alot of us out here that feel like we are one mistake or misunderstanding away from being ostracized by everyone we love if we say anything thats even remotely negative, and stuff it down, way down to our toes but every day theres more and more… Oh is that just me? If you relate to any of this, all of this, you are among friends.

But maybe you’re old school and want to see actual human faces. Local support groups can be a godsend. Picture this: a room full of people who don’t bat an eye when you say you forgot to pack your kid’s lunch because a depressive episode hit you like a freight train. No judgment, just understanding nods and maybe someone offering to carpool next time. It’s fucking beautiful.

Here’s a fun fact for you: Studies show that people with chronic conditions who participate in support groups report lower levels of stress, anxiety, and depression. It’s like group therapy, but without the hefty price tag and with more swearing.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: “But what if I’m too anxious to meet new people?” or “What if my fibro flares (as its known to do especially when we get nervous, so that starts its own self destructive doom cycle) and I can’t make it?” Listen, we’ve all been there. The beauty of our fucked-up little community is that we get it. Can’t make it to the meetup because your body decided today was a good day to feel like you’ve been hit by a truck? Send a message. Chances are, someone else is in the same boat and you can commiserate virtually.

Remember, building connections takes time. It’s not like those cheesy rom-coms where you meet your best friend in a quirky coffee shop and suddenly you’re inseparable. It’s more like dating – awkward at first, with a lot of trial and error. But when you find your people, it’s worth all the cringe-worthy small talk and anxiety-induced sweating. I started my online fibro journey 20 years ago and am proud to say I have friends from a few countries and sometimes that is super helpful perspective wise. I like to think of it like a marathon. Only we arent racing, its not a sprint. There are people who will pull ahead or fall behind, theres some that will keep pace with you for a time its all welcome, you learn from every encounter, just trust and be open to the blessings and gifts and messages buried in pain, good or bad, there are always lessons to be learned.

So, here’s your homework, you beautiful dears: Reach out. Join a group. Send a message. Hell, start your own support group if you can’t find one that fits. Because at the end of the day, we’re all in this together. We’re all just trying to keep our heads above water while making this whole world spin. And remember, on those days when everything feels like too much, when you’re convinced you’re the worst person in the world, there’s a whole community out here ready to remind you that you’re doing just fine. We’ve got your back, even if we’re all a bit of a hot mess ourselves. Just do your best and we’ll pull each other up, one rung of the ladder at a time. Til next time gang,take care of yourselves and look out for each other. And George, look out for George he’s a shady little fucker …

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The Circus In My Head… A Manic Shitshow of Thoughts…

I don’t hide where I’m at, smack dab in the middle of a mixed episode and HATING my brain SO MUCH. My mania is making me feel like I don’t have a brain in my head, I can’t retain anything. Imagine your brain is a circus, and the clowns are on a fucking bender. That’s what it’s like living with this bipolar bullshit, especially during these delightful episodes. My mind goes into hyperdrive, spewing out ideas faster than a fucking fire hose. It’s a shitshow, I tell ya.

When the mania hits, it’s like someone cracked open a can of crazy in my skull. Thoughts come barreling in like a herd of rabid elephants, trampling over any semblance of sanity. Business plans, artistic endeavors, get-rich-quick schemes—you name it, my brain vomits it out in rapid-fire succession. It’s a damn three-ring fuckery of creativity and chaos.

The ideas keep coming, faster than I can process them. It’s like trying to catch a swarm of angry bees with a butterfly net. By the time I’ve grasped one brilliant concept, ten more have already buzzed off into the ether. Some are pure gold, others are just steaming piles of shit, but who has the time to sort it all out?

In the midst of this mental maelstrom, I inevitably drop the ball. Brilliant ideas slip through the cracks, overshadowed by the constant barrage of thoughts. It’s like trying to pick out a needle in a haystack made of needles. Frustrating as hell, let me tell ya.
Sometimes, I’ll have a moment of clarity, a flash of pure genius that could change the world. But by the time I’ve finished patting myself on the back, that stroke of brilliance has already been flushed down the toilet of my mind, lost forever in the swirling vortex of mania.

So, how do I deal with this shitstorm of thoughts? Well, I’ve tried journaling, but half the time, I can’t even read my own damn handwriting. Routines and schedules? Yeah, right, like that’s gonna tame this wild beast of a brain. Nah, my coping strategy is simple: embrace the chaos, ride the wave of insanity, and hope I don’t drown in the process.

Look, living with bipolar disorder is a fucking rollercoaster ride through the depths of hell and the heights of mania. The racing thoughts are just one twisted loop in this crazy-ass journey. But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sure, it’s a shitshow, but it’s my shitshow, and I’m gonna own it with all the creative, energetic moxy and humor I can muster.
So, buckle up, folks, and get ready for the ride of your life. It’s gonna be a wild one, but at least we’ll have a few laughs along the way. And who knows? Maybe amidst all the chaos, I’ll stumble upon the next million-dollar idea. Or maybe I’ll just end up talking to myself in a padded room. Either way, it’s gonna be one hell of a fucking adventure. Buckle up! Til next time gang, take care of yourself, and each other.

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Gotta say it was a good day…

Good evening (evening, evening, evening echoed the void). Some days joy abounds in the crazy ups and downs on this wild ride, other days its about getting by. I woke not expecting anything great, and boy did I live up to those expectations lol. It was a good day though. I learned a lot working on some other projects and I got several products I designed on the Etsy site. Worried myself sick over things I could do nothing about. Immediately forgot why I was panicking mid panic, then just when my breath went back to normal remembering what it was and working myself up into a really good panic before forgetting AGAIN. Cycle repeated at least four times until I dug the heel of my hands into my eyes. I swear I wasted at least the better part of two hours frozen in the repeated jump scare. Laughed at a ton of crazy cat videos. Had some pizza.

I don’t feel like I accomplished much but what did I do most of the day? I laid down for not even an hour. Had plenty of ideas for future projects. This is the grabby hands phase of my mania. Gimme gimme gimme, give me ALL the side quests so I don’t have to face what I’ve been avoiding. Gimme gimme gimme money for all of these side quests, Gimme gimme gimme all the praise for these JACKPOT amazeballs ideas. Greedy as all get out and tripping over my own feet trying not to be such a narcissist and only think about myself, actively get angry at myself thus directing all my own attention to trying not to be a narcissist, which is like, the definition of being a narcissist. I’ve exhausted my brain and once I do that my body soon follows. I think today is the last REALLY bad storm threat so maybe the air pressure will regulate. Til tomorrow friends, stay kind to yourselves and each other.