Now tell me what you want to say to people who criticize your illness, or tell you it’s all in your head.





Things have been so good, I have been experiencing pure happiness in everything I’ve been doing.  It has been a breath of fresh air.  I couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to be depressed.  It is like two separate world’s I live in.

Today I have been feeling very anxious, everything everyone has said or done today has irritated me.

I feel this dark cloud slowly creeping in to cover my heart and take over my thoughts.

The thought “I’m depressed” begins to replay in my mind over and over again.

I try to stop it and repeat “I am happy, I am happy” to try and change my thought pattern.

It doesn’t work.

“Please God take this away….let happiness be more powerful than the darkness,  let me sleep and wake up full of joy.”




These days are so filled with technology, that it is easy to miss the good things in life.

Today my husband and I decided to load up the kids for a road trip…..that means phones, tablets, etc. Are for emergencies only…groans and whines fill the air.  They don’t know how they could possibly survive more than 2 hours in the car without anything to do.  We let it roll over our shoulders and remind them that this is what real fun is all about.


As we head out of town we are bombarded with questions of : “where are we going, where are we staying, is this going to be any fun?”  I answer them with love and excitement.  “We are heading to Mount Vernon, IL. Where we will have a pic-nic in the park with Grandma and Grandpa, then we will swing, and go down slides, play catch, play cards, while dad BBQ’S.”  “Then we are getting a hotel where we will swim all night and all morning.”  The kids yell and scream with excitement.

We all have so much to say, we enjoy each other’s company.  Which is a great change from what seems like constant bickering and arguing lately.

Soon the oldest cram in the back together and settle in for their own fun.

I look out my window at the beautiful scenery.  I thank God that I am alive, that we are all healthy, and that we all can still have fun together despite my long 3 year battle with depression.  As I look out I can’t believe how much time has flown by, how much I’ve missed out on.  My thoughts begin fill with guilt, of all the things I could have done, or all the joy I could have brought them these past 3 years.  Tears start to well in my eyes.  My husband looks at me and knows where my head is taking me.  He squeezes my hand, puts on a good song, and we start to sing.  My husband reels me back into the now and I’m filled back up with joy.

Yay!!! We are at the park.  Everyone races to the swings.  I sneak across the street to a huge garage sale (I’m a sucker for them.) I look around and it’s the type you have to spend hours digging through boxes to find anything good.  “Not today” I say and rush to the swing set.  I push and push and push.  I take tons of pictures while we all laugh and play.  I am consumed with happiness.  It feels so good.  We continue with everything until the sun starts to fade away.  “OFF TO THE POOL”

We arrived at Holiday Inn to find out the pool is under construction.  I used to allow these tiny hiccups to take over my whole mood.  I would let it suck all the happiness out of me.  But I’m doing well….so it rolls off my shoulders as we head to Drury Inn.  We are elated they still had a few rooms left.  Off to the pool we went.  It had half of the pool inside, then you could swim out to the other half outside.  The kids were In heaven.  I swam with them until they closed for the night.  We were all passed out in about a half hour.  The next day was filled with more swimming until it was time to head home.  This day my husband and I woke up with a terrible head cold.  We shook it off, hoping that’s all it was.

Boy was i wrong, day after day it just got worse and worse.  I got knocked on my butt with a full fledged respiratory, fever funk.


So I rested and took medicine while my almost 3 year old took everything I own, out of every container things were put in, and played with it all.  I feverously watched as my house and floor became trashed.

Today my fever is gone, so on went the apron and music and I set off to work to put every thing back where it belonged.

I am getting better and stronger everyday to beat this depression.  I feel normal and happy again.  I want to stay like this forever.



Day 9 : Being kidnapped


If you follow me, you know I am at battle with my Bipolar Depression.  If you read post 8 “BACK IN THE BIPOLAR DARKESS”( then you know I wasn’t strong enough and allowed words of judgement to pull me back under.  Unlike day 8 where I chose to do nothing to fight it, today I have done everything I could: I followed “My Routine,” I read “My 10 Things To Tell Myself Everyday,” and also read a million uplifting messages and quotes on Twitter.  Even though I’m fighting hard today, it just isn’t enough.


Since there is nothing else to report, I decided to write about another traumatic event that happened when I was 19.


I have already written about some of my wild MANIC times.  One was “SEX,DRUGS,AND BIPOLAR.”  That time period had me doing very risky and dangerous things.  And during those times I had an intense need for adrenaline rushes that were still not being met.  So I chose to find people that would satisfy that desire.  I went to many different Techno Clubs with my normal friends.  It just wasn’t enough.  So began my secret life ( noone in my circle or family knew what I started to do, and I am sure to this day, most of them still do not know.)  I started venturing out on my own looking for excitement.  I began going to Rap dance clubs in East St. Louis.  I met very dangerous guys, many were in gangs.  They then took me me to all black clubs.  These places were not for people like me, many were shot and killed nightly there.  When I hung out with these men, it was in very dangerous blocks in North St. Louis.  These people surrounded themselves with high powered, illegal guns, and sold enormous quantities of drugs.  I was a very dumb girl who believed this was the ultimate adrenaline rush.  Well it eventually came back to bite me.


One guy inparticular was always hanging around when I was With them.  His name was Jason.   He was very interested in me.  I did not reciprocate.  My lack of interest, even with all his perseverance drove him crazy.  He would not accept that I was there for excitement, not a relationship.  At this point I had no idea when I was sleeping, he took my keys and made copies.  One day I went to his house to buy some drugs.  We talked on the couch for a bit, he then went to his room and brought back a Japanese sword.  He let me look at it, then swiftly put it against my throat and said “I have the power to end you!”  I don’t remember now how I got out of there so quickly, but I did.  I hurried to my car, as I drove away I finally opened my eyes to the fact that this was not the life for me.  I was raised in the suburbs for Godsakes.  I vowed to straighten up and never go around these people or go to those places again.


I worked as a Secretary at a local hospital in St.Louis.  On weekends the main parking garage was closed to employees.  Everyone had to park at a garage 2 miles away and be shuttled.  On this particular night I parked here like I always did on weekends.  Locked my car and went to work where my hours were 7pm-11pm.  What was different than any other night, was that Jason had called and found out what floor I worked on ( to this day I do not recall ever telling people in that group where I worked.)  At 10 pm that night Jason called and called my desk threatening to steal my car “saying I do not deserve nice things like he does.”  He kept calling, I kept hanging up.  The fear was rising up in my chest, I was so scared of what he could do.  I eventually called Security and explained to them the situation, they decided it was best I clock out and they chauffer me to my car.  But when I went to leave all that was there was a Security Officer on a bike.  I walked all the way to the parking garage while he rode next to me.


As we walked up the ramp, I had a sickening feeling in my gut, we arrived to where I parked earlier that evening…we found it empty.  My thoughts were racing…how had he found this garage, how did he know I was parking so far from my work( I still don’t know, maybe he was following me, I will NEVER know.)  The security guard told me to walk over to the lighted area to stay safe, while he road up all the levels.  I turned to walk away, when I heard a car speeding towards me.  I jump to the side and looked back…IT’S MY CAR??? AND JASON IS DRIVING IT???.  Jason jumps out of the drivers seat waving a gun, ran to me, pushed me in the other seat, slammed the door and squealed off.  I look behind be as the security officer is trying to chase us down on his bike while radioing for help (I’m assuming.)


As he drives away he puts the gun under his seat while pulling out a very large knife.  He rests it on his lap facing me.  We drive around for hours while he screams “you don’t deserve nice things” “you take your nice easy life for granted” “if I can’t have you, noone ever will.”  I plead, I beg, I cry.  Nothing gets him to respond or gets him out of this irratic state.  I am filled with regret of the choices I made to get me here, I am filled with sorrow to have this hurt my family, I am devastated.  It is now 3am and we’re still driving around aimlessly.  The sun starts to peak out of the horizon as we pull into a desolate gas station.  He fills the tank then speeds off without leaving my side to pay.  We eventually pull up to a gate at this deserted “pay by the hour motel” it is the kind they don’t open the gates to the lot until you pay.  I look around, we are somewhere off Grand Ave.  I continue to look for someone I could yell to…nothing…it’s empty.  Even the gate was attended by a machine you put money in.


Once in the room I am pushed on the bed, my clothes are ripped off.  The weapons are on his bedside table far out of my reach.  He forces himself into me.  With tears rolling down my cheeks, my mind takes me away to happy childhood memories.

Not long after he finishes, Jason begins to feel sick from lack of Heroine.  He moves to the chair that faces me.  And pulls out a box full of drugs and needles.  I get so excited at this point, I tell myself to calm down and just wait until he nods off so I can escape.  I watch anxiously as he cooks it, fills his needle, then injects it…..”here we go” Im thinking.  But to my devastation he only pushes a small amount to stop the sickness, not to get fully high.  What am I going to do now????

I lay waiting, to then be pulled out of bed by my hair, I am forced in the shower where I’m told how to wash, where to wash, all the while he pleasures himself.

Luckily Jason only had enough money for 1 hour in the room.  I get dressed.  I am instructed how to keep my head down, and not to speak as we head to my car again.

We drive around for hours again, from North County to North City, stopping only to steal gas, or to let me pee in abandoned parks.  Day turns to night.  Jason now powers my phone on from when he took it at the parking garage.  I am told to call my mom and tell her I’m alright, that nothing is wrong.  The phone rings once, my mom picks up, I then tell her what I was instructed to do, she realizes something is wrong because I can’t say anymore, I just keep repeating myself.  He hears her screaming, grabs the phone and begins to yell at her.  When she threatens to hang up and call the police telling them I’ve been kidnapped, he screams: “tell your daughter goodbye…you will never see her again.”  He hangs up and turns the power off again.  This turn of events puts him back in attack mode.  I am then punched and slapped over and over again.  His eyes are beady..full of malice.  We again go the an abandoned park.  I am calm….I am ready for what I deserve….He then unbuttoned and pulls down his pants, he grabs my hair and pulls me down until he is in my mouth.  The gun is pointed at my head while I’m told to get work, and told if I bite, or hurt him in anyway, my head will be blown off.  At this point I know what’s going to happen, I turn into a robot, with blank thoughts.  After Jason finishes he pulls my chin so I’ll look at him, I am told “I have to kill you soon, since your parents have the cops looking for us.”  I then lay my head back on the headrest look out the window while we start driving again.  I stare out while memories of my childhood flood over me.


Later I am shook hard until I wake up.  I look around, before I know it I’m being dragged inside an abandoned 3 story apartment complex with the knife against my throat again.

As we walk in, to my disbelief there is a twenty something woman with a toddler standing next to her.  I soon realize her and Jason are friends.  We all head to the basement, it was cold,and damp, Windows were broke out, several boxes were set up like little homes.  I could even hear rats or mice scattering around.  I am forced to the ground, when the toddler comes running and crying into my arms.  I lose myself in trying to sooth this little baby, and wonder what she is doing in a place like this??? In the background I could hear whisperings of what he got himself into, and how he has to kill me and dump my body tonight.  Sometime later I hold the baby asleep in my arms as I hear the young woman convince him to shoot up so he can relax and think clearly.  She helps him down on an old,torn up, damp blanket.  I watch as she cooks the heroine for him, then wraps the belt around his arm, then finally inject him.  By the grace of God this woman pushes the perfect amount to where he gets so high and happy, he even forgets I’m there.  After a few minutes she hands him a handful of change and begs him to go get some White Castle for her baby.  I can’t believe it, this is really happening.  As soon as we hear my car leave, I am in a dreamlike, disbelief state.  The young woman has to help me off the ground and up the stairs.  As we go outside it was pitch black.  But we saw an SUV parked down the street full of black men.  She holds my hand while explaining to me that Jason told her he was going to take me to an abandoned park again, slit my throat, leave me in it, while he runs away.  I’m out of it as she explains to these men my story, she has to help me get in.  They want to help me, not hurt me, I can’t believe it…as we race off down the road, another miracle happens.  There is a police cruiser at the stop sign straight ahead.  These men talk to the officer while helping me in his vehicle.  I am whisked down the road, hearing him radio for back up at The White Castles on Kingshighway.  I can’t believe it I see Jason in my car at the drive thru window, with two cars in front, and two in back, completely blocking him in.  The last thing I remember is him being handcuffed and put in another cops back seat.

I am taken to the station where I give my statement (ommiting the sexual abuse) I was young and dumb and was in fear of my story being all over the news.  The officer doesn’t trust me to drive, so my dad walks in, and I run to him with tears of happiness in my eyes.

I am taken home to pack to be admitted to a psych unit.  I stay for 9 days then released with all types of meds.

The following week I am forced to meet with the prosecuting attorney to press charges.  I relay the story over and over again.  I am told no weapons were ever found on him and “all the time we get stories from white girls like you, who come to hang out in the hood, so you need to learn your lesson by us not prosecuting him, because you started it!”

I did learn my lesson, I did stay away from bad people.   But still had many manic episodes that I couldn’t control.  So as of now I am at peace with the event,  and refuse to let it control me anymore.

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Day 8&9 Back in the Bipolar Darkness


“What others see as self-pity is really a deep dark self hatred with depression, that can make me lose my desire to even get out of bed”

Day 8:

Wonderful start, followed by a fun day of swimming with my kids at my parents, then enjoying a great BBQ and great conversations……

Until…..something was brought to my attention(which I cannot divulge.) Normal people can take bad news or negativity with a grain of salt, but the more I struggle, the worse I make situations, and blow them up in my head as horrible, heart breaking situations.

I started uncontrollable hystericaly crying, that got so bad I could hardly catch my breath.  And eventually the buzz in my ears and the foggyness in my head from my sickness came over me.  I so hate when this begins because family members/friends often tell me to “push through it” or tell me to not let this bring you down….yeah ok, I wish it was that easy for ME!  it’s uncontrollable.

I HAD to go home…I quickly gathered my bags and loaded up the car, and continued to cry all the way home.

Once home, I got everyone tucked into their beds.  I then pulled myself a glass of wine to settle myself down and think about things.

Via advice from my therapist, I have tried very hard to stay away from any triggers that cause me to react this way.  But I was unable to dodge this one.  Things that seem miniscule to normal people, seem explosive to me.  This “thing” was about my blog, and I have some serious soul searching and weighing of pros and cons to decide if I delete my blog site and twitter account and return to just be left with these thoughts alone, and just seeing my psychiatrist once a month.  Or do I decide to continue writing and meeting people who truly understand what it’s like to be manic or depressed??

I ponder these thoughts and worry what bipolar symptom I’m going to wake up with in the morning as I drift off to sleep.

Day 9:

Well I wake up in despair.  I feel so down and tired and out of it…Why does this keep happening to me???

I can barely get up to turn off my alarm.  I manage to wake the kids up and make it to the couch.  I am so foggy, my body feels full of lead, my thoughts are in deep despair.  I am consumed with negative self hatred.  I muster enough normalcy to encourage the 9 and 11 year old to stay on task and do what they need to do.  I am filled with such regret because I cannot make myself get up to make a hot breakfast like I’ve been doing faithfully for almost 2 months.  My thoughts then go to the usual: my kids deserve to not have a crazy mom, my husband deserves a wonderful non sick wife, I am more trouble to them than I am worth.

I am so desperate to not have these thoughts, to not hate myself so much.  I am in such anguish.

I am able to pull it together enough to get the big Kids to the bus, and make my little one breakfast.  I then grab all the pillows and blankets and give into my depression.  I make a nice pallett on the floor and set in for a morning of cartoons.  I lay there wishing I could just sleep this day away.  I count the minutes to nap time.

Finally nap time arrives, I rock her to sleep and head right back to the pillows and blankets where I immediately pass out.

I wake up two hours later with my mood uplifted…..Thank you God

I convince myself I’m well enough to leave the house.  I grab my daughter and head to the grocery store.  Minute by minute my mood returns to normalcy.

My first mistake of the day was not following my routine ( on another post under menu).  My routine helps me be normal and stay out of my head.  When I complete my routine I feel uplifted and have a sense of completion.

But today I failed myself.  I let my depression engulf me and take the wheel.

But I want to try again tomorrow….Tomorrow I will fight against it.  Tomorrow is going to be a good day.

As you can tell I chose to do what’s best for me mentally and continue to write.

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