Author: Bipolar Happens

Psych central from both sides of the couch

Following in my footsteps

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My daughter makes me proud every single day, but right now I’m especially proud.

She’s starting her own blog.

If some of you have been here from the beginning, you remember me talking about my illness and how it’s affected her over the years. Eight years later, I’m watching her openly express her struggles with mental health and share her favorite Mac Miller songs with the world.

Watching her talk about bipolar disorder, anxiety, and self-harm isn’t easy for me. It never will be. Part of me carries guilt — knowing these are things she inherited from me — but more than anything, she is my hero.

The time she’s taken to truly learn herself… her illness, her triggers… and then choosing vulnerability anyway — opening herself up online knowing criticism, doubt, and know-it-all opinions will come — that takes courage. Real courage.

And while she may have gotten the struggles from me, she also got my ability to write.

I have tears in my eyes watching her right now. I’m so proud of her for being stronger than I ever was.

I hope she knows that one day, when she becomes a famous author, we’ll have this post to say I saw her at the beginning.

I’m adding her blog name to my bio so you can follow along with her life — her illness, her growth, and her college journey. It still blows my mind that she’s graduating high school in May.

I pray she listens to me and doesn’t let the world harden her heart the way it hardened mine at 19 — the way certain experiences permanently changed how I see life, and habits I’m still trying to break.

She is the very best parts of us, and I can’t wait to watch her conquer the world.

I know you’re reading this, monkey.

I love you, and I’m fucking proud of you.

Remember your mama when you’re famous. Don’t forget I’m always a phone call away. I can be anywhere you are in no time if you need me.

No matter how old you get, I’ll always be your biggest fan.

You will never be too old to need your mama.

I love you.

Goodbyes are a bitch

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Navigating Loss and Finding Light in the Shadows

As I sit down to reflect on the past couple of years, my heart feels heavy yet full. We lost two incredibly important people in our lives in 2023 and 2024—my in-laws, who are not just my husband’s grandparents, but the very people who raised him into the man he is today. They were our anchors, the loving souls who helped care for our daughter since she was born, allowing us to work without the burden of daycare costs. Their absence has left a profound void in our lives.

Losing them, especially so close together, has been an immense challenge for our family. My daughter cherished her grandparents more than anything else in the world, and watching her navigate this loss has been heartbreaking. My mother-in-law, who battled dementia, fought valiantly against the disease. She lived longer than most with that diagnosis, showing immense strength. My father-in-law’s decline, however, came as a shock. After falling ill in January 2023, his health deteriorated rapidly, and he passed away on April 14th. It felt as though his body simply gave up on him, and the world lost an incredible man.

For my husband, who had never truly experienced loss before, facing the deaths of his grandparents so closely together was a heavy burden to bear. I’ll admit, I was selfish during this time. When my father-in-law fell ill, I found myself praying for just a couple more years, hoping he could witness our daughter graduate high school. It was the only prayer I made, and it felt like a desperate plea.

But the truth about death is often overlooked: we tend to hold on to our loved ones, even when they are suffering. We cling to them because we fear the final goodbye, not realizing that our reluctance to let go can sometimes prolong their pain. Goodbyes are never easy; they never have been. Yet, we must remember that the relief from suffering is what should matter most. Life on this earth is fleeting, and we are given only a small piece of time to witness, love, and feel before we pass on. Each of us experiences a little piece of heaven, even if it’s just for a short while.

Amidst the tragedy, there were some unexpected positives that emerged. My daughter had the opportunity to meet my husband’s birth mother for the first time. At sixteen, this was a significant moment for her, one filled with both excitement and apprehension. We had shared stories about her birth mother, and while we had never gone into detail about the reasons for our family’s no-contact situation, we always felt it was important to protect her from the complexities of adult relationships. Seeing my husband, a man of few emotions, navigate the whirlwind of losing his grandad while reconnecting with his mother was both tragic and beautiful. It was a moment that encapsulated the complexity of love and loss.

As I wrap up these thoughts, I know there’s more to share—especially the juicy family drama that unfolded during this tumultuous time. Trust me, it’s some crazy white trash stuff that I couldn’t make up if I tried! But for now, I want to honor the memory of those we’ve lost and celebrate the unexpected connections that emerged from our grief. Life is a tapestry of joy and sorrow, and even in the darkest moments, there’s always a glimmer of light.

Thank you for being part of this journey with me. Your support means the world. 💖

Where did everyone go?

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Help Me Get Back in the Social Media Game!

Hey there, lovely readers! 🌟

So, here I am, back from a two-year hiatus (yes, you read that right) and ready to dive back into the wonderful world of social media. I mean, let’s be honest, it’s like riding a bike, right? Except the bike is a little rusty, and I might have forgotten how to pedal! 🚴‍♀️

I used to have a dedicated group of amazing people following my journey, but after my long sabbatical (a.k.a. life got in the way), I feel like I’ve lost touch with you all. It’s a bit like going to a party and realizing you’ve shown up a year late—awkward! So, I’m calling on you, my fabulous audience, to help me get back on track.

Feedback Wanted!

I’m on a mission to improve my writing and reconnect with you all, but I need your help! What topics do you want to see? What tickles your fancy? Whether it’s travel tales, book recommendations, or the latest in coffee culture (because let’s be real, why can’t Starbucks ever get my order right?), I want to hear it all!

And while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about my writing consistency. I’ve taken another day off work to sit at Starbucks (yes, again!) and write. I’m determined to turn my dreams of becoming a famous writer into reality. But let’s face it, I’ll never get there if I’m not consistent. So, I’m all ears for your suggestions!

Publishing Companies: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

On top of that, I’m also on the hunt for legitimate publishing companies. You know, the ones that won’t ghost you after you hit “send” on your manuscript. If you have any recommendations (or horror stories), I’d love to hear them! It seems like finding a trustworthy publisher is like searching for a needle in a haystack, and I could use all the help I can get.

So, there you have it! I’m back and ready to engage, create, and caffeinate. Your feedback—good, bad, or downright ugly—is welcome! Let’s make this journey together and bring some joy back to the blogosphere.

And hey, if you’ve cracked the code on how to get Starbucks to make a decent cup of coffee, please share your secrets. Because honestly, I could use a win in that department too! ☕️💫

Looking forward to hearing from you all!

Bipolar Chronicles-Dreams

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A Love-Hate Relationship with Dreams: My Surreal Superpower

Dreams and I have a complicated relationship—think of it as a tumultuous romance that keeps me on my toes. I’ve shared this quirky little tidbit with people before, and sometimes I feel like they don’t quite believe me when I say I have a “superpower.” (Is that even the right term? Let’s go with it for now.) I can stop and start my dreams at will, picking up right where I left off, whether it was yesterday or even two days ago. Sounds fun, right? Well, buckle up, because it’s a double-edged sword.

In theory, this ability is fantastic. It allows me to revisit cherished moments with loved ones who have passed or relive happy memories from my childhood. Who wouldn’t want to take a stroll down memory lane in their sleep? But here’s the kicker: with the good comes the bad, and that means I also have to contend with nightmares. Unfortunately, I don’t have the same control over those. They come rushing back, uninvited, and continue on their own, even when I desperately try to push them away. It’s not exactly a pleasant experience, let me tell you.

I’ve learned to take the good with the bad, though. Those joyful childhood memories make the occasional nightmare worth it. After all, who wouldn’t trade a few restless nights for the chance to relive a sweet moment with a beloved grandparent or a carefree summer day spent with friends?

Recently, a coworker mentioned she was reading about techniques to train your brain to enhance dream recall and even control. I had no idea this was a thing! It’s these little discoveries that sometimes make me question my sanity. Am I just a quirky dreamer, or is there something more to it? But then again, I remind myself that I’m not crazy—at least, not entirely—because I’m medicated.

So here I am, navigating the wild world of dreams, where every night can feel like a new adventure or a haunting reminder of the past. I may not have full control over every aspect of my dream life, but I’ve learned to embrace the journey, with all its twists and turns. After all, who wouldn’t want a front-row seat to the theater of their own mind?

Finding Serenity and Inspiration in a Coffee Shop

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Coffee Shop Chronicles: Finding Inspiration in a Cup

If you’re wondering why your feed is suddenly overflowing with my musings, it’s because I’m currently nestled in a cozy corner of Starbucks, soaking up the caffeine and creativity. Sure, I have Wi-Fi at home—trust me, I do—but let’s be real: my home is a distraction minefield. Between laundry, dishes, and the siren call of Netflix, focusing on my writing can feel like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands.

There’s something magical about being in a coffee shop, surrounded by the hum of conversation and the rhythmic clatter of keyboards. Most of my fellow patrons are college students, deep in their studies or typing away on their laptops, and their energy is contagious. It’s like being in a hive of creativity, and I can’t help but feel inspired to do some of my best work amidst the hustle and bustle.

Today, I’m on a mission to save up a stash of posts for weekly publishing. Life has been a whirlwind lately, with work and family commitments keeping me busier than a barista on a Monday morning. But today, I carved out some much-needed “me time,” and it feels like a little slice of heaven. All I want to do is sip my iced coffee, watch the cars zip by outside, and get lost in my own world of words.

I’m flipping between my book and this blog post, being extra careful not to mix them up. (No one wants a chapter about coffee shop musings to accidentally end up in a serious plot twist!) Being in a college town adds to the charm; the vibrant atmosphere fuels my creativity and passion in ways I can’t quite explain. I’m absolutely smitten with this town—the traffic, the energy, the inspiration lurking around every corner.

With my headphones on and a random playlist serenading me, I’m snuggled up in my corner, feeling like a writer in a rom-com. My goal is to save these posts for future publishing, and I’m hoping that after this, I can make it a regular thing. I don’t even know if anyone reads these anymore (hello, crickets?), but if you do, please drop a like or leave a comment on a topic you’d like me to tackle next!

And just between you and me, my ultimate dream is to one day be a famous author, sitting here in my favorite coffee shop, recognized by readers who have fallen in love with my characters just as I have. It’s a big dream, but hey, every great journey starts with a single cup of coffee, right? Here’s to more days like today—filled with inspiration, caffeine, and the joy of writing! Cheers! ☕️✨

Unpopular Opinion: Motivational Speakers are gaslighting narcissist’s

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The Not-So-Motivational Motivational Speech: A Comedic Take on Positivity

I know, I know—we all love a good motivational speech to gear us up for life’s little challenges. But hear me out! (Disclaimer: I am in no way a motivational speaker. I just share my shenanigans and struggles. Seriously, don’t look to me for advice; I can barely take my own, let alone someone else’s—especially my psychiatrist’s!) Have you ever really listened to what these motivational gurus say? Let’s unpack some of their classic lines with a sprinkle of humor and a dash of reality.

“You choose to be negative; make every day a positive one!”Ah, the classic “just think happy thoughts” mantra. Let’s dissect this for a moment. Sure, it sounds good in theory, but let’s not silence someone’s trauma with this sugary nonsense. Some days, my trauma gets the best of me, and that doesn’t make me a bad person—it just makes me human! We all have our off days, and sometimes, a bad day is just a bad day. So, if you’re up on your pedestal, preaching positivity while I’m over here wrestling with my inner demons, maybe take a step back and let me have my moment.

“You control your destiny!”Okay, this one has a kernel of truth, but let’s not get carried away. You can’t control what others do to you. You can’t control that person who cut you off in traffic, nor can you control that friend who “forgot” to invite you to brunch. Trauma is a tricky beast, and while it’s true that you can control how you react, let’s be real: sometimes we don’t pick the healthiest coping mechanisms. (Raises hand) Yep, I’ve dabbled in addiction as a way to handle my life’s curveballs. Therapy? Yes, please! But let’s be honest—some self-help books are about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

“You don’t have it as bad as other people.”This one lights a fire in my soul and brings out my inner Hulk. Look, you might not have it as bad as someone else, but guess what? You have no idea what’s going on behind the scenes in someone else’s life! Minimizing someone’s struggles to make yourself feel better is just plain gaslighting. Everyone has their battles, and just because you’ve read a few self-help books doesn’t mean you get to determine the value of someone else’s pain. Each person’s journey is unique, and we should honor that.

“You choose to have a mental illness.”Oh boy, if only it were that easy! If I could choose to ditch my antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and sleep meds, trust me, I would. But here’s the kicker: you can’t just wish or pray it away! I’m hardwired a little differently, and that’s okay. So, let’s drop the judgment and let people be who they are.

Yes, I know this sounds a bit judgmental and maybe even a tad bitchy, but let me tell you about my Facebook timeline. I have this one friend who posts the same positive nonsense EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Why haven’t I deleted them? That’s a great question! They’ve clearly skimmed a self-help book and think they’re now the guru of wisdom. Oh, and they’re involved with an MLM, which makes so much sense now. They’ll throw out basic knowledge and then act like they invented the wheel.

So, use your own judgment, folks, but don’t let people like this make you feel bad for being who you are. They pretend their lives are perfect, but trust me, they’ve got skeletons in their closets just like the rest of us. So, let’s embrace our quirks, our struggles, and our beautifully messy lives. After all, life is too short to pretend we’ve got it all figured out!

AI vs Ghostwriters

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Navigating the Writing Journey: Ghostwriters, AI, and Finding My Voice

I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s worth repeating: I’m in the process of writing a book. It’s been a long road—12 years, to be exact! Recently, I made the decision to hire a ghostwriter, and I couldn’t be happier with the choice. He has a remarkable talent for helping me express my thoughts while still preserving my unique voice. It’s like having a creative partner who understands my vision and brings it to life without overshadowing it.

Lately, I’ve been pondering the role of artificial intelligence in the writing process. I’ve dabbled with a few AI tools, and I must say, the similarities between AI-generated content and what my ghostwriter produces are fascinating. But I can’t help but wonder: is using AI the same as collaborating with a ghostwriter? Will I still be able to maintain my authentic voice if I incorporate AI into the mix?

As I navigate this complex landscape, I find myself grappling with the idea of whether using AI is a form of cheating. After all, I’m the one crafting the story, but can a machine really capture the nuances of my voice? I excel at the “meat and potatoes” of writing—the core ideas and themes—but I often struggle with the extra “sides” that make a narrative cohesive and engaging.

There are days when I feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of thoughts swirling in my head. I just want to get my ideas down on paper before they slip away, but the process can feel daunting. I often look back and wish my high school English classes had focused more on the fundamentals of writing rather than Greek mythology. While I appreciate the classics, I could have used more guidance on grammar and structure!

I’ve thought about enrolling in writing classes to sharpen my skills, but the costs can be prohibitive. Instead, I find myself relying on a thesaurus more than I’d like to admit, searching for the perfect words to convey my thoughts. It’s a struggle, but I’m making progress, albeit slowly.

I’ve decided to start sharing more about my writing journey, the ups and downs, and the lessons I’m learning along the way. I believe that a combination of my ghostwriter’s expertise and the capabilities of AI could be the key to finally getting my book ready for the world. It’s an exciting prospect, and I’m hopeful about what lies ahead. Fingers crossed!

Stay tuned for more updates as I continue this adventure. Whether it’s ghostwriting, AI, or just my own determination, I’m committed to finding my voice and bringing my story to life.

Are magazines becoming obsolete?

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The Nostalgia of Print: Why I Still Love Magazines

The other day, I strolled into a store, hoping to find a Cosmopolitan to pair with my favorite candy bar. To my dismay, the shelves were bare. It was one of those rough days, and I found myself reminiscing about my younger years in a bustling city, where I would indulge in chocolate and lose myself in the glossy pages of a magazine—a world of luxury I could only dream of.

There’s something magical about flipping through a magazine. The vibrant ads for perfume, exquisite clothing, and stunning accessories transport you into a cinematic life, one where every moment feels glamorous. Sure, Cosmopolitan has an app that lets you read all the latest issues, but it just doesn’t capture the same essence. The tactile experience of flipping through pages, the slight stickiness from perfume samples, and the thrill of saving those little scent strips for a rainy day or an “emergency” occasion—those are memories etched in my mind. I can still recall the countless times I scrubbed those tiny samples into my skin, leaving it red but fragrant.

As a millennial, I fell in love with the dreams sold in the pages of Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, and Vanity Fair. Yes, the fashion often felt outlandish and the prices were far beyond my budget, but that didn’t matter. It was about the inspiration, the culture, and the escape these magazines provided.

Today, I’m heading to Barnes & Noble to lose myself in the world of print once again, even if just for a little while. There’s something soothing about the smell of fresh magazines and the way they whisk my stress away.

What do you think about the shift to digital? I’m reminded of a quote from one of my favorite shows, The Office: “Limitless paper in a paperless world.”

And to the magazines out there—if by some chance you’re reading this, I speak for all Gen Z and millennials when I say: please don’t stop producing hard copies. They are a cherished connection to our youth, a tangible piece of nostalgia we desperately want to hold onto.

New Year and I’m still here!

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Sorry I’ve been MIA between work and life I haven’t had the urge/want to write (blogs) I’ve been working on my book that I don’t know if I will ever finish. It is never good enough for me to publish. I keep getting scam calls from “publishers” but I haven’t thought about sending it out or if I should self publish. I’ve been weighing the options and I just don’t know what to do. If anyone has any tips it would be greatly appreiciated. So those will be coming up soon. We’ve missed a lot in the last 3 years since I updated. I do have a list of topics to write about but I just wanted to let you know that I am alive and doing well. I also have tiktok now which I’m not sure how to use it to market my blog but I’ll figure it out.

More to come soon! I can’t wait.

PS. Any tips on how to use (Twitter) X will be greatly appreciated.

One more time

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Just one more for me…..
Just one more breath
Just one more second and let those one more turns to minutes, hours, days months and years. That one second you gave yourself turned into a life you never thought could exist.
Just one more pinky promise. The promise you can’t break the promise that tomorrow when the sun rises you will feel the warmth. You don’t even have to smile just feel it and know you are alive.
Just one more tear. I know crying and emotions feel impossible right now but you just need one more tear down your cheek to remind you that even though everything in this world is so ugly right now there is so much beauty you forgot existed.
Just one more hug. This is the hug that will you bring you back to life.
Just one more I love you. I know I love you feels so hard right now and even though you know it’s meaning it is still hard to grasp that someone is capable of loving you because you don’t love yourself right now.
Just one more laugh. When something makes you laugh so hard it breaks the hard barrier around your heart and opens you up to feel again and we need to feel something.
Just one more smile. Your smile might make all the difference to someone else who feels just like you. Smiles are beautiful and no matter how much pain is behind them you made someone’s world light up whether you knew it or not.
Reach for the light one more time. I know the light is getting dimmer everyday and it feels like no matter how far you stretch your arm it isn’t enough. You can’t grasp the light you need but don’t give up the darkness can’t take us again we almost didn’t survive the last time. We can’t hit the bottom again.
Just one more good night. One more curling up in your arms to relieve the weight of my trauma, my demons screaming in my ears. Your heartbeat deafens them the warmth of you is like my own little bubble of peace so please don’t ever let me go. You are the only peace I get at night because I know no matter how loud and aggressive they get. I can just dig myself deeper in your arms where they can’t reach me.
Just one more see you tomorrow because I will see you tomorrow. You won’t wake up to a lifeless body that you never got to say goodbye too. My soul will still be there. I’ll still hog all the covers and take up the whole bed. You don’t have to place your fingers under my nose or wait for a snore for some relief that I didn’t give in this time. There is no rush to dial 911 and dig through the cabinets to figure out what I took this time, how long it’s been since I stopped breathing or will the Narcan work. You won’t have to make that phone call to family members letting them know to come say their goodbyes or asking for prayers so that I will wake up today. The day will come that the green light indicator on messenger, the three dots that shows I’m typing or seeing my car in the parking lot won’t be the reason you let go of the breath you were holding so tightly hoping that I survived my demons one more night. It won’t be the message from someone in my family letting you know I didn’t make it even though they can’t even get the words out. You won’t be rushing to the hospital asking God for just one more minute so you can say goodbye. You don’t have to sit there and ask yourself what if I spent one more minute with her, asked one more question to save her because I stopped for just one more minute and reminded myself I am alive. I know when the moment comes for me to let this out it will be ugly but I am giving myself grace and reminding myself it just takes one more.