I'm the big bad wolf, so let the games begin 🐖🐷

What a mess.
I feel like all the progress I've made mentally with navigating bipolar disorder has been ripped to shreds and thrown in the trash.
Why?, you may ask?
Someone in my family attacked me via facebook (the mature way and place to say to someone "hey I don't like what you said" or "I don't like how you said that") and then allowed their fiancé to do the same but by using bigoted terms about my sexual orientation.
All this because, yes believe it or not, I agreed with what she said on facebook. Now I'm portrayed as the person I tried so hard not to be, to get away from, and to make healthy.
All because I expected what anyone, Bipolar or not, would. An apology.
Did I get one? No. Why would I?
I'm expected to change, be different, roll over while everyone else can be the same animal they've always been.
Instead I got put on trial, like always, and had to scramble to find ways to prove myself, all the while this family member is slinging insults at me via text and not expected to apologize for that either.
I came to the conclusion today that I'm not going to treatment to make people like me, to be a show pony, or hinge the results of my hard work on the opinion of a pack of animals who have never been there for me and in the grand scheme of things play such a small role in my life and no role in my recovery.
I'm done focusing on the negative and putting myself in negative situations.
We have Christmas every year at this particular animal's house and I'm not going. I'm not going to set myself back for the sake of keeping up appearances.
The tables have turned and if they want to be in my life they have to work for it.
The only one from that side of the family that truly bothers me is my youngest niece who has said, not to me, to my mother over and over she supports me and sees a change, through that out at the first sign of difficulty. Well I'd like to thank her for clarifying that that was never true. Support doesn't just disappear at the sign of the first rough patch.
She's one of the reasons I've tried so hard. And I think that's part of the problem in this equation.
It's for me. Not anyone else. Support me or get out of my way.

Sex Metal Barbie

Today was a day of many mind blowing, perspective spinning, unrealistic reality affirming moments.
It started with me looking at my timehop app. For those of you not familiar it's an app that will take you up to 5 years back in time harnessing your facebook and twitter as a means of showing you where you were and what you were doing via your posts.
I was besotted with images of me and my beloved Effie. I had gone to a reptile show and one vendor had bird items and I splurged on a whole bunch of things for her.
There were pictures of Effie and I. Her on my shoulder or finger, her looking like she was posing for pictures. A small knife was driven into my heart and luckily all the children were asleep and my coworker put out of the room when I couldn't help but cry.
Through out the day I was heavily concentrated on a manic episode I had the night before, trying to bait someone into an argument whom I would take a full magazine of bullets for.
Being bipolar isn't a focal point of my life. Rather it's like a baby taking their first steps and every step from then on becomes a laborious process requiring all their thought and physical concentration to continue the process of putting one foot in front of the other, instinctively knowing now that they've begun this mode of transportation it would be a requirement for the rest of their lives.
I don't walk around seeking sympathy from people. I just want to keep on the journey I chose to start when I sought out treatment and like that baby have begun a mental mode of transportation I will have to continue the rest of my life and to boil it down to it's simplest form I'm just trying to figure out all the mechanics.
I'm not fixed or cured because I have a therapist and psychiatrist and pills. This is the hardest part to get anyone to understand. I've been this way my whole life and it's gone unnoticed. Even by myself until not so distant events made me realize something else was going on.
Then at the end of the day I find out a girl from my graduating class died yesterday. We were by no means friends. We were enemies by the rawest definition but she still played a large roll in a good portion of my life thusly.
I don't think it's ill to speak unkindly of the dead. I think it's ill to not speak the truth about them.
At my funeral I want people to come up one by one stating both my flaws and good qualities.
We veritably hated each other. She did her best to torture me until graduation when neither one of us had power over the other one. I started a rumor about her that I don't think she lived down for a few years after high school. Sometimes the lowest underdog can strike gold.
But I would never wish death upon someone for high school childishness that I equally participated in once provoked. She was one of many cookie cutter girl bullies who once they lit the fire couldn't extinguish it and wish they had never started it once they found out their boyfriends were in a room somewhere at a kegger with me instead of them.
Her death is an eye opener. Here I am worrying everyday about if I'll die when I survived and she never saw it coming.
May she rest in peace and now have full view of my exploits from above and have more than a few good laughs.
I remember one day she grabbed my arm in the hallway and yelled at me "why don't you like me?!" after she lost yet another boyfriend to my black widow like web. She caused all my books to fall and my cd player to skid across the hallway. I looked at her and I said "because of what you do. What you do to people like me. Because you don't think I matter and I matter more than you've come to realize or ever will. People like me are survivors"
Who knew how true that would be.

adrenalize me

I couldn't be more thrown off if I tried. I had a normal shift today but tomorrow it's another double feature picture show. 

My body feels like it's trying to escape from me.

I realized just now that today is Monday. It's as if there aren't days anymore just one continuous day that cycles on and on. 

(I think this happened today) I went to rite aide to get a writing pad because the one I've been using to write to the two inmates I keep in contact with was just too small and i had to use more pages. I also bought an energy drink and we'll get that debacle in a moment if I can remember. 

So I get to the check out and I'm use to everyone who works there. The rite aide is up the road from me. So I set all my items on the counter and the manager gives me this weird look and I'm thinking in my head "awesome he probably thinks I shop lifted something and is going to make me spill the contents of my freshly organized bag (when you have no choice but to stay up all for 17 hours even the most mundane tasks seems like a lady gaga concert) but then he pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and starts ringing out my items. I remind myself I have there reward card but not with him so he tells me to punch in my phone number which is actually my mom's he says "so are you going to the concert". I'm still in a haze on the better side of sleep walking and I startle easy as it is so I nearly jump and go "what concert?".  Was there an impromptu concert at the car shop across the street that all the hipsters slapped their scrotum hats and flannel on for or is one of those boy bands at the mall with a swarm of Tweens hormanally awakened?

He says "in this moment". And I was like "yeah I am...how did you know?" He goes "because I can read" (holy breakfast club flash back where bender is going through Brian's "standard" lunch). And then he tells me he noticed the bracelet I wear I got the last time I saw them another time I was there. 

Well a 20 minute conversation erupted, him ignoring all the silver sneaker club members behind me with their denture cream and off brand cheese puffs, and me wondering if I'm making any sense. I walked away only vaguely aware that he compared her to lady gaga and completely unsure if he was coming on to me because I was the one that brought up Maria Brink's huge jugs. 

I get to Mr. H's house having sipped a little bit of the aforementioned energy drink and accidentally engage my religious fanatic coworker in a religious debate (I had to explain to this person more than once that being gay doesn't mean I want to be a woman no matter what the crusaders told them in their homeland and further insist that I am gay and don't want to be a woman...which I guess in retrospect I should've just said "yes I want to be a woman" because then I could've spared myself the highlighted bible verses they twisted (like all good Christians do!) to be about homosexuality and the repeated assurance to not worry. God will save me by me magically waking up and liking women in a sexual manner) and it was ridiculous. Mr. H wanted to watch the walking dead and I blurted out that I thought this was what the rapture would look like. Boy did I dig myself in deep. Although I did shut them up by citing the part of the bible that says part of the rapture will be the dead walking among the living.

Well the energy drink was a horrible mistake. Mr. H didn't want to go anywhere but bed and I had enough energy to lift two cars and feed a gaggle of new borns. So I just started talking to myself like a nut case. 

Moral of the story- when you're running on 3 hours of sleep just don't talk to anyone at all for any reason and don't think an energy drink will do anything in your favor. 

Who knew a stretched hole could feel soooo good

Finally! I've reached zero! No, not my pants size. Even when I lost all the weight when I was sick the smallest I got was a size 4 because that's what size my bones are! I could not eat for a year and probably never be smaller than a 4. I'm talking about my ears.

I've tried on and off for years to stretch my ears but always ended up getting a tear. The biggest gauge I reached was 8. Well a couple months ago I tried going from a size 2 to a 0 and it was a HAWT mess. I can't say they got infected. People always think their piercings are infected if they hurt or there is any discharge. 

They just hurt but not a constant hurt. I could just tell my body wasn't having it. So I downsized back to a 2 gauge, did a lot of sea salt soaking and left them alone for a month.

Well I got ballsy this morning and tried again but with longer tapers. I was told stretching with steel tapers was better but I think that's what made my first attempt to get to zero a failure. The taper was so short.

So I used my longer tapers from my acrylic stretching set (a cardinal sin if you ask "stretching experts") and they went right in. I felt the normal pinch but no blood and decided I'd leave the tapers in all day or longer which I've never done before but hear for some people it made putting the plug in easier (another cardinal sin of the pious piercing community...if you're going to modify your body do it because you like it, not so you can sit on a faux thrown and act like you're experience is gospel. Every body is completely different). 

Well on my way to work with the tapers still in that made me look like I had been staked by Buffy, I remembered when sitting at a red light in Troy there was a store that said it sold every kind of body jewelry. I was a bit ambivalent and wondered if it was even opened or shut down. Well I found it and went in and it was the Mecca of body jewelry. 

I'm so use to havin to buy thing online and wondering what it's actually made of, if it's the right size, (the "steel" tunnels that came with both stretching kits I realized I was allergic too and probably only plated with steel which caused irritation not allowing the first zero stretch to heal)etc.  and the man who worked there was just wonderful. 

I only go to one tattoo shop, true tattoo because they aren't pious and every other tattoo/body piercing parlor I've went to are pious and judgmental. And my piercer got married and moved. I miss him dearly. He's done all my piercings but two I swear he has some kind of maid because with every piercin he's done on me they all healed at a much faster rate then the radicals online claim they should have. 

Well anywho...not only was the store beautiful but the prices were amazing. I ended up buying these beautiful stone single flair plugs and these acrylic plugs that have skulls in them.

I'm definitely going back. Shopping online isn't worth the hassle and this guy was just so knowledgable and showed me anything I wanted to see, didn't make me feel like I should bow down for walking in, didn't belong or was a ease of time because I'm not masculine...like my dearly missed Keith. 

Well I got to to work and the man I support decided he wanted what he calls a "stay at home day" so I went in the bathroom after having the tapers in for 4 or 5 hours prepared for the usual. Undoing the o rings around the taper, trying to push the plug through, causing a tear and having to start all over again. Well that didn't happen! I pushed the taper out by pushing the new stone plugs in and it was like my ears let out a happy sigh. Because they're made of stone they were cool and went in with no problem. It's as if I didn't go up a size! I'm one happy boy. 

I know I'm going up to double zero at least but if there aren't  tapers past double zero which I've heard are hard to find I may stop there. I'd like to get to Maria Brink's size but I don't know how big hers are. I won't go ridiculously huge though. I don't need earlobes down to my shoulders. And I want them to be able to shrink to a reasonable size and not have to go to a plastic surgeon to have my earlobes look "normal" if I decide to stop or don't want them anymore. 

Headed for the second part of my double. An overnight! Whoopie!  Another week where my head will be in a haze because I get out of the overnight at 8am and have to be back at work at 2 so I'll get 3 hours of sleep max. But this is the last week of the double trouble. I'm also going to stop signing up for Friday mornings. It's a lot easier to stay late than get up early.