Elated and Ecstatic

I am so happy right now. I am bursting - elated and ecstatic.
Now that I am no longer depressed and on a medical sabbatical, it is so exciting
to have time to do whatever the hell I want.

Just started yoga-cize, a class in the instructor's home - Her name is Dvusha.
I bought a drum to chant. I am writing, reading, loving life!

I am being wary of getting too overexcited so, I am taking luxurious bubble baths and
lighting a candle called OPIUM. (really haha!)

Time On My Hands

I have a lot of time to schedule on my hands. I am using some of it to work out at the gym. I hope to do this more and more. My goal is to work out 1/2 hour on the bike, 1/2 hour walking machine and 1/2 hour on the elliptical each day. I plan to go tomorrow before my Weight Watchers meeting. So, this is all for physical health.

I have been shopping for more fruits and veggies. I think I need to cut down on the carbs. Evening is still a difficult time. I want to munch on something...I will try to cut up veggies or get popcorn.

I am worried that I may have even gained some weight this week. Hope not. However, I will not avoid getting on the scale...I have learned not to avoid the truth.

Sometimes in my life I have not had a minute to myself. So, the challenge right now is to make good use of my time! Be productive. Be happy. Give myself a nudge in the right direction.

Drinking and Thinking

I am drinking my morning coffee and thinking...I need to be creative like one needs air to breathe.

I want to not only write again (journal and focus on my memoir), but also paint on a canvas. Thank you Kate for inspiring me and complimenting me about my writing. It helped my self-confidence.

My first painting will be the semi-abstract (perhaps there is a better term for this) from a small painting I did when I had my mini-stroke in February of 2004. I will post it here when I find my camera. I adore trees. I had a bad case of asthma as a child and when I learned that trees gave off oxygen I developed a great love for them. The IV was my tree inside the hospital. The painting is of me hooked up to the IV, my head facing the outside window with the geometric curtains drawn.

The house is disaster-ville right now.

I wish I could drive to my friend Kate's house in Alfred and learn to paint from her. She is so talented! Kate - If you would feel comfortable with this, I would love to come visit you. Anyway, I think I will paint in acrylics. Although, oils appeal to me because they are natural, I have heard that it is harder since you cannot paint over oils, but you can with acrylics. Any suggestions Kate or anyone else?

Oh yeah, and then there is the expense. I recently bought a fish tank and though it was on sale, I also had to purchase a heater, some gravel...haven't gotten any decorations or the fish yet. I am on a medical sabbatical and my salary is almost halved right now.

I feel so happy right now thinking of writing and painting again. I am drinking and thinking and happy.

Hypomania? What's that?

Recently, I have been told that I have Bipolar 2. It is confusing to me. Anyway, I have been having a very severe depression since mid-January and never thought this would happen again to me. Well, I guess there is still a lot to learn. I am taking medication and have a new therapist.

This morning I woke up and resisted my addiction to Netflix. It is okay to watch some movies, but I have been using it obsessively to escape a fear of loneliness. I AM not alone! You aren't either. Don't isolate. I am deciding not to anymore.

I felt a surge of energy and know that I need to harness it in and NOT run around or talk or even write obsessively or I may take a nosedive back into this severe depression which is so awful.

All my reaching out for help is paying off. Now, I am helping myself again. That is the key. You must ask yourself "What do I want?" and also give to yourself; be your own best friend.

Can't Sleep, Zombie State

can't sleep
too many thoughts to think
can't focus
too many wishes to dream

looked around a
disordered house
listened now and
heard no sound

caused me to fear
no one is here
caused me to panic
zombie manic

can't sleep
too many thoughts to think
can't focus
eyes blink

it's just a feeling, i keep telling myself
it's just a pain, i keep telling myself
it's not forever, i keep telling myself
it's not forever, i keep telling myself

it's a road but not the destination
it's a crack but not the indentation
it's a fear but not desperation
it's a fear but not desperation

i keep telling myself
i keep telling myself
i keep telling myself
i keep telling myself

until i believe myself
until i believe myself
until i believe myself
until i believe myself

Beauty is in the Act of Balancing

Last week, as I watched a blond, blue-eyed toddler clump her feet on the grass in the park, each of her tiny hands supported by her adult-helpers, struggling her best to touch the soft green grass with the soles of her feet, I identified completely, FLASHBACK - re-learning to walk at Rusk Institute was part of my past. My stroke occurred in February of 2004. At first, the physical therapists would guide me - holding my hand and I would get winded after only a few minutes. Each day they also gave me exercises to strengthen my legs.

"Don't let your left leg flop down. Pull up from the waist."

My mind drifted to Le Mimodrame de Marcel Marceau in Paris where we were taught the classical mime walk by Marceau, himself. We walked and walked and walked in circles. BORING.

Marceau: It may seem simple, but on the stage a simple walk is incredible for the audience to watch. They will follow you with their eyes.

I now realize the classical mime walk helped me to recover from the stroke. The ability to walk, to balance, was an incredible feat. I craved the individual attention in being educated how to walk, but did not allow my mind to realize how much worse it could have been - paralysis.

I had the amazing opportunity - to understand through experience that walking is balance. Were I asked ahead of time if I would like to have a stroke to gain great insight, I am sure I would have refused. Yet, I did not have the choice. Walking is a balance act. Beauty is in the act of balancing.

Hiding and Coming Out

What does it mean to hide? As children, we play hide and seek and giggle and enjoy these two ways of being in our imaginary world. In the "real world" or now the "virtual world" we also play a game of hide and seek, don't we?

I hid the fact of suffering depressions for so long. I thought others would think me weak, shun me, like I had some contagious Sadness Disease. It is part of the package of being human - we have ups and downs. How shocked and relieved I was when I finally came out of hiding and realized I WASN'T ALONE to get depressed - tons of people I knew were actually "on" anti-depressants, not clinically depressed, but needed help too.

This is how I got out of one depression.

I was hospitalized again...my insurance was running out and they wanted to discharge me. My insurance would not cover an outpatient program (which I desperately needed.) I was freaking out and imagining that I was going to be a "bag lady." - really frightened of the future.

Coming from a Jewish family, my mom and dad were telling me they would pay for me to go to Israel to stay with my religious sister in Tsfat. She has two small children and would take care of me. My first thought was "they" (my family in New York), just wanted to get rid of me for a while because I was draining and depressing them. I obsessed, pacing the hospital floors, thinking what a "fuck up" I was and wondering what to do. Go to Israel! Ha! So, that's the solution for everything! My problems loomed large.

My roommate was a young woman who was hearing voices. She was also Jewish and spoke it fluently and sang too. There was also a Chassidic man who was ranting and raving about blowing up countries and being the "Messiah."

Hospitals for those experiencing crises are really "holding pens". The doctors don't see you often. "The Professionals" are busy with paperwork and depositing you back somewhere - your home, a program, a relative's place...Israel??? that might be a new discharge plan, I thought, but they MUST have a discharge plan. I am not saying there is nothing positive about hospital stays. It is a necessary place to go if you are in danger of hurting yourself or another or need to be stablized with medication...things like that... but hospitals were mostly scarey to me.

I knew I needed some wisdom and with all these Jewish influences around me, and having a deep spiritual connection to my background, I remembered I had a book written by Rebbe Nachman of Breslov: AZAMRA at home. I asked my dad to bring it to me. AZAMRA means "I Shall Sing. In a nutshell, this teaching tells of finding the "spark" in oneself and others, and to NOT allow the negativity to consume you. It says one spark begets another and the accumulating sparks become a brilliant, bright light.

I emmersed myself in this teaching and began challenging my depression. I started to sing the "Hatikvah" (The Jewish National Anthem) one night after hearing my roommate speak so much in Hebrew. I loved the melody, but didn't actually know what I was saying or that it was the National Anthem - I am pretty secular, but spiritual. That night I dreamt I went to Israel and that God wanted me to come to help me, that I belonged there.

The next morning I was no longer depressed. "I am going to Israel", I exclaimed inwardly. I had made my decision. I made a tea with some hot water and was content as I mused about my trip and sipped it. It was so early and only one other patient was up and the Mental Healthcare Worker, Nadia.
"I am not depressed anymore", I told Nadia.
"Great!"
"I am going to Israel."

I don't think a miracle happened. I found a way to connect to the positive again. The teaching, the singing, had permeated through my heart and I was hopeful again and believed I would be okay. The all or nothing thinking was replaced with hope.