Ebb, Flow, Calm Part 2

When I was younger I had an insanely detailed approach to dating and whether someone was "fit" to date. I actually maintained a list on yellow legal paper that I followed. (I actually still have the list, but I'll need to look for it. When I find it, I'll scan.)

Anyhoo, I followed those guidelines well into college which is probably why I think I kept relationships at bay and was able to build a pretty impressive career.

When I abandoned those guidelines, I walked smackdab into chaos.
Why? Because success has patterns.
Why? Because success leaves clues for reciprocation.
Why? Because you should stick with what works.

So if my insanely detailed list worked so well why did I stop using it?

Well, my hindsight explanation is that I assumed that defective substance was equal to defective form.

Huh, Butterfly what does that mean?

See, in my junior year of college, I started dating I guy who I thought was great. We had the perfect "Sweet Valley High" relationship:

"Intelligent, Athletic, Exotic Beauty
Dates
Handsome, Intelligent Older Jock."
In retrospect, I don't think I ever learned that my relationships could end; after all, I followed the list.

How could it end when it was so "good"?

So when it DID end, I subconsciously attributed the end of the relationship (the substance)to my faulty list (the form). I subsequently shifted to the world's approach to relationships and the result was several years of shit.

So then what?

From 2006-2007, I walked away from two relationships that people thought were "great", but I knew there was better, and I wanted better. I was tired of settling to simply "be" in a relationship. I returned to basics, and by doing so, I was led to my wonderful husband.(More on hubby later.)

So, back to reciprocating success. When I returned to my core values with relationships, I got what I wanted. So now I must return to my core values about my skin, body and God.

What was I doing THEN that was so special?

See Part 3

Ebb, Flow, Calm

I totally understand the ebb and flow of life. I guess what I am having trouble with is its timeliness and the duration.

When I think about it, the first 24 years (I'd even extend to 26 years) of my life were pretty great.

I was homeless at one point, I slept at my job, I moved a gazillion times, but all in all I was happy. Why?

It's often said that success and happiness leave clues on how to reciprocate them.

What was so special about my life prior to age 26 that isn't present now?

Well, first things that come to mind are my body and skin, and my relationship with God.

So do I now throw them in the "they change with age just accept it" category or do I rediscover the behaviors and attitudes that brought about the body and skin I was proud of THEN and incorporate them into my life NOW?

Isn't it interesting that when I was 26 I had a 1 bedroom apartment with an ass of a bf and no car, and was happy. Now with a husband a 3 bedroom home and Mercedes I'm sad?

Well that would be to presuppose that my discontent is related only to relationships and material things. Quite the contrary. My discontent is totally about me, and that's why I look to none but me to fix it.

So then we introduce diagnoses like OCD, bipolar and eating disorders. How do they factor into the mix?

In reality, their contribution to my frustrations are not that extensive. Imho. But more on that later. Also, more on God as well.

See Part 2

Hello?

God when do you show up?
Right before I take razor to wrist?
Right after I swallow the pills
Or take the last numbing sip?

When do you come in like superman
Save the day
My picture is on the front page
Of course I'll sign that for you
You're too kind
Thank you

Returning to the clutter in my mind
Retreating to the gloom of the day
I learn to accept this reality
Unscripted, unedited
No makeup person
Stylist
Pin on mics
No assistant
No special food

Just me
Overwhelmed
Fatigued
God, I'm drowning
You see me
You hear me
So why aren't you helping?

22 Years

22 years I have served you
Called on your name
From the age of 9 I knew you
June 24, 1986
That's the day my life changed

22 years
To have my fears overtake me now?
Prayers seemingly falling on deaf ears.
I feel like david
Begging for deliverance
Begging for an out
Pleading for help

If I'm weak to pray it
Then so be it
Then give me strength
But I am wary, oh God
And so I pray:
Please pass this cup before me.

Oh God

Oh God
Why have you allowed me to sink
To this state of being?
My former me
Merely
A figment of a sketchy imagination
A mind wrought with chaos and uncertainty.

For what end
Am I a skeleton of yesteryear?
Living in what was
Making love to memories
Who I am
Disgusts me.

Reduction to the lowest common denominator
Yet possessing the will to fight
Is an equation of insanity
How can a plate of wrong when eaten
Taste right?

You're far off from me, God
At least you seem to be
I talk to you everyday
Begging, pleading, for an opportunity
To see
A glimpse
Of a happy me.

Why so downcast oh my soul?
Because my hope in God
Has left me wary.
So with only residual energy to lift my head
I moan a tearfilled help me.

Gratitude Moments

I've been forgetting to add them to the end of my posts, so I'm gonna give you five of them.

I'm thankful for:

1. Unexpected state tax returns.
2. The ability to control the thermostat.
3. Choices of what to eat.
4. A husband that prays with and for me.
5. The ability to get a job.

Life seems less stressful when I focus on blessings.

God Gave Me a Break

Last March when I really felt like I was losing my mind, I prayed for a break. I thought the break would be found in a rehab ala Brittney Spears. My break actually came in the form of my husband.

He is the very definition of the man my heart knew, but lips couldn't articulate. He is my absolute best friend and the most amazing human being I have ever met.

He challenges me, supports me, scolds me when necessary, makes me laugh and is an absolute joy every single day of my life.

He takes great care of me. He ensures that I eat, work out, get enough rest, and ensures that I'm not too hard on myself.

I haven't worked since November '07, and he has motivated me to return to acting.

He gave me a wonderful Valentine's Gift - a Mercedes Benz C300!

That's great, but not as great as the Valentine's Day card he gave me yesterday. The last line of the poem (he wrote it) was "everyday with you is a Happy Valentines."

He is the best. I am so grateful to God.

Dad Said It, So It's Ok

Told dad about Friday....a very loose account.

His reply: "Why are you going to keep working at a job that doesn't respect you? Leave it."

He said it very calmly, and it clicked.

This simply isn't working. Some people want me to fight and to stick it to the GM, bu I'm drained with fighting. I don't want to fight any more. I'm ready to right my my resignation letter.

There's a saying: "When things get uncomfortable, its time to leave." Things have been uncomfortable for me for a while now.

I feel like God is pushing me to take a step, and the "how" in "how will I take care of myself" shouldn't be my concern. What I need to focus on is to obey and trust each step of the process.

So that's what I need to do. I've got to move as God leads, and I'll trust that He really does know better than I do.

It's just so hard to do that.

Hey, thanks for joining me in this journey. May God show Himself to you, through me.

Elitest vs Charity

I think I'm an elitist.

I do feel entitled to preferential treatment.
I do feel that I am better than most.
I do feel like pound for pound, no one is better than I am.

It's this thinking also affects how I interact with others.

At times when I should probably listen and be what others consider to be supportive, I'm turned off my excessive whining and a lack of focus. I see people who are unable to make decisions as weak.

Now, I know that bipolar disorder often muddles my thoughts and leads to indecision, but its ok for me because I'm tying and I don't wallow in the murky waters of self pity for too long. But for everyone else, it annoys me.

At church today the message was about love.

1 Corinthians 13
If I speak in human or angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.

If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body [to hardship] that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

I don't like my mindset, so I'm changing that, too

Huge Big Deal Alert!

I went to church today!

After 8 months away, I went to church!

Yes, HUGE big deal especially since I have been since February when the pastor had a brain fart.

I thought about going last night, and I woke up with going on my mind, so I went.

To be honest, I kinda felt compelled to go; almost like I had to go today. It shocked even me. However, once I arrived I knew why.

There are so many things running around in my mind - career, moving, my purpose relative to God.

They were all made clear today - communion Sunday - and I rededicated myself to God.

Yup, HUGE hooray for me and my progress!

(Btw, I didn't go to brain fart church.)

Cuz

He's been a great support over the last week. I've spoken to him every day, sometimes up to 3 times a day.

We talk on the phone, write each other a lot, and plan to visit in October.

He gets me.

It's unreal how much he gets me. I know that God brought him into my world for such a time as this. When no one else understands me, he does. When I need to vent, I can, and he walks me through. The best part is that I draw strength from him. He is one of he strongest people I know; wise, intelligent, and strong.

I have the flu right now was having severe body aches 3 nights ago. After praying, I thought about him and how strong he is, and was able to get to sleep. He's been through a lot in his life, and thinking about him and how he overcame and continues to overcome, makes me think less of my issues.

He's great.
He's my therapy.

Get Over It, Butterfly

The longer I live, the more it is confirmed that NO ONE GETS ME.

No one ever has.

They try to understand me, they try to get me, but in the end, their stupid comments push me away from them.

This isn't one of those "A for Effort" deals. How can you think you're being helpful when everything that spews from your lips is NEGATIVE?!?!?!

"Why do you care so much?"
What? Why do YOU care about what YOU care about?

"Why are you stressing about this?"
Are you kidding me? Why do YOU stress about what YOU stress about?

"That really isn't your issue."
Thanks for sharing, moron. Exit my life stage left.

I'm NOT required to justify why I care about anything or anyone.

My causes are my causes.
My time is spent where I want it.
My money will be spent there, too.

I am clearly alone in this one. Me and God; Me and God.

God Said

God told me that I'd be alone for this leg of the journey and that I shouldn't expect to take anyone with me.

I don't wanna, but that's what I'm prepared to do.

Winining the War

It's the little battles won far from the applauding crowd that bring us victory at war.

War for me is inconsistency and procrastination.

Two atrocious human flaws, that when coupled with bipolar disorder results in a whole lot of excuses, frustration "if only's" and "woulda, shoulda, coulda".

Nothing gets done.

There's much that I want to do, but instead of taking on the war, I'm fighting the little battles.

3 days
3 30 minute Cardio sessions
3 Salads
3 Half Gallons of Water
3 Bible Readings
3 Prayer Sessions
3 Meditations
3 Days of Reflection

I'm proud of me.

I feel good. In time, this will be the norm.

Dear God

So much has happened.
So much has transpired.
I hurt, I cry.
Dear God, I'm tired.

Tired of the pain,
Frustration and shame.
Tired of the labels,
Judgments and games.

Tired of dreams postponed;
Crying alone;
No peace in my skin;
Dear God, I'm in such turmoil within.

Who can hear my silent scream?
Who truly understands this pain so deep?

Under the weave and the Maybeline;
Remove the jewelry and designer jeans;
Behind the smiles worn to appease;
Shed the image they need to see;

I'm in pain.

Oh God!
Hurt and ashamed.
Judging myself harshly
Dear God,
That's the pain I'm in.

This vicious cycle, it just won't end!
I can't even trust my mind-
Formerly my friend.

"I" has turned on "Me";
And "Myself" is nowhere to be found.
I''m surround by people
Yet it seems no one's around

Dear God,
I think I've found hell.
It's right here in my mind-
No peace;
Deferred dreams;
I'm frustrated most of the time.

There's a Cliff behind,
And an 18 wheeler racing ahead.
Get a grip, Butterfly
Or else you'll be dead.

Deep down
I know I transcend hurt and pain
Deep down,
Butterfly, lift your head
You will smile again.

Deep Down
With the last musters of strength...

Inhale.
Exhale.
Dear God,
I still have breath.

Thank you.

(Dedicated to my cousin Mike)

Wus Honor?

The 5th Commandment:
"Honor Your Father and Mother so that your days may be long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.” (Exodus 20:12 NRSV)

What the heck is honor?

- Respect, esteem, concern for, affection, love, consideration, appreciation, nurture, forgiveness; to hold in honor or high respect; revere; show a courteous regard for

What if I am incapable of doing any of this to my mother?

Then what?

Let's Talk About Church

The church I attended for quite a while was seemingly everything I needed - great worship, great word, friendly people. I'd even have lunch after the service in their restaurant.

I was trying to find my niche in the church, you know, where I could serve - dance, drama, choir - to no avail. I did feel like becoming a member was too detailed and lengthy a process. Also, serving in any capacity prior to membership was a "prohibited". Anyway, I left before I joined.

Why did I leave?

On February 4, 07, the pastor of the church drew an ALARMING parallel between sin and mental illness during his sermon on Intentional Living.

He used Romans 8:11 as his core verse and stated that The Holy Spirit is supposed to transform you from the inside out. He said Intentional Living is living in psychological and emotional well being.

His ass should've stopped there!

He then said 1 in 4 people are mentally ill and instructed everyone to turn to each other to ask if they were the one that was mentally ill, and had the WHOLE CHURCH LAUGHING!!!

If you're mentally, ill, it's because the Holy Spirit is not in you!

So pastor, why stop with mental illness? Your wife has MS, let’s put hero n the express train to hell, too!

I would have gotten over it and attributed his stupid ignorant ass parallel as a slip of the tongue, being tired or too much cough medicine, but the idiot made the same point over and over!

I left the service very annoyed and in tears.

When I tried to get a copy of the sermon the next day to review it, guess what? They were all taken off the shelves; thereby confirming that he f'ed up!

I gave him the benefit of the doubt the following week and attended hoping for a retraction, apology, anything to allow me to wash away the hurt from the previous week.

Well, the moron reiterated his mentally ill people are sinful stance with emphasis!

I walked out of the service and haven't been back.

Who's suffered!

I have. I miss the fellowship, I miss learning and growing, but I can't return.

I also blame him for me having to start meds at all! I started meds after his dumb-ass statement. I wasn't ready to have my "safe place" be turned into a den of judgment.

I know he's flawed, and that he is but a man who is not without sin, and clearly not without being an ignorant ass, but he never apologized. But then again I never wrote the letter that I said I would. Hmmmm, I guess this letter is a start.

Will I be able to return to that church?

Hopefully one day, but then again, maybe the hurt runs to deep.

Can I ever look at him as someone who has my best interest at heart when he was an ass about something so personal to me?

In the interim, I'll be at another church.

Morning Soon Come - A Poem

At night I can't wait til day
When it's only 3am, I pray...

Morning soon come
When I can smile again.
Morning soon come
When I can turn this page of my life and call it done.
Morning soon come
When I can look in the mirror and be proud of what I see.
Morning soon come
When I can be totally free to be me.

Back to Basics

1. The Good People

Many of the people who were around me when I was successful, are no longer present. These were the people who supported me, motivated me, encouraged me, gave without expectations, loved without judgment. They were the Nascar road crew that appeared each time I made a pit stop. They got me back in the race faster than I ever could on my own.

The Good People.
They built me up.
I need them around me.
I'm going to find them again.

2. God
I remember I would wake up each morning a 7am while in college and walk the track surrounding the intramural football field. I would walk 5, 10, 15, 30 times. I wasn't walking for exercise, but I would walk until I finished speaking to God. Being fit was a by product.

There are too many people around me that don't reflect God. Too many people around me that hinder and interfere with my God time because of the negativity, judgment, profanity, and ill that they bring.

There was a day when I never cursed, never swore (yes, there is a difference). There was a day when I wasn't this evil being that I am today.

I am confident that I am today who I permitted to be close to me yesterday. The only way to right the wrong, is place distance IMMEDIATELY.

3. Me

When I was successful, being good to me wasn't something I did before an audition, casting or date; it was commonplace. I never sacrificed what brought me joy because of how it would be perceived by others, or because I was too busy trying to fit into a world that would never accept me as I am.

I was Me.
Undiluted Me.
Unapologetic about Me.

I honored my voice.
I respected my opinion.
I never dumbed down.
I never apologized "just cuz".
I valued my creativity.
I had merit.
I recognized my contribution to the world.

I made time for my hair, nails, exercise, therapy, healthy eating, positive relationships, peer groups. Most importantly, I made time for God.

In college, I would wear what others considered weird, and I didn't care.

I would dress that way I wanted, style my hair the way I wanted, paint my nails in black because I wanted to do so.

I danced freely.
Lived Unapologetically.

Somewhere along my journey I abandoned my uniqueness to become a mindless clone; placing my happiness and success in the hands of a soulless world.

I want to return to Me.
I will return to Me.
I am ME!

Me means, doing what I want just because.

- Wigs & weaves cuz I wanna
- Wearing gold and silver cuz I wanna
- Wearing short shorts cuz I wanna
- Showing my legs cuz I wanna
- Loving my body because its mine
- Pink lipstick in the day
- No I don't want a drink
- I'm not interested
- No, cuz I said so

Me is choosing to release hate knowing that God takes personally what happens to me. I can relax, live and love knowing that vengeance belongs to Him.

Bip Reality Pt 1

8:15 Friday night, I am jolted out of bed by a BANG on my door.

It's my neighbor (Vanessa) - crying hysterically, and partially frozen. She hands me the phone. It's her friend.

The friend ask if I can check in on Vanessa periodically because she has issues with her nerves, she's in some pain, and really doesn't want to be alone.

Well, the friend lied to me because she didn't know how much I knew. Vanessa has bipolar disorder as well as a couple other things including hypochondria. When she gets upset or stressed, she shakes and then becomes catatonic.

So, I get her to her bedroom, gave her 2 Tylenol for her leg pain, and ordered food for both of us. While waiting for the food, I made her some chamomile tea (to calm her down), and went back to my apt because hers was FILTHY.

She had more newspapers, magazines, tissue boxes and dust than I had ever seen in my life! It instantly made me wheeze, so despite her desire not to be alone, I physically couldn't do it.

She ate 1/2 of the sandwich I ordered, and I encouraged her to relax. She seemed to be doing better, so I returned to my apt.

10:45ish I am JOLTED out of bed by screaming. You know the sleep where you hear something, but can't readily connect that it's not a dream and that it's actually happening?

BINGO!

My sleep is shot, my nerves are on end. She's back, slumped at my door, and screaming.

"I'm in pain, I can't be alone, my parents left me and went to Atlantic City, I hate them, please don't call the police, you must hate me, they're gonna put me in a home, I wanna die, I'm not a drug addict, its was just a little pot, can you sit with me, I hate my life..."

I share this because I'm a couple months removed from my last depressive or manic episode, and this night held a mirror up to my Feb, March, April.

I called her father, who was less than enthused,and had ZERO desire to return immediately Atlantic City. He told me to call 9-1-1 and "have them come take her".

Callous? Much, but here's why:

She's 58.
Her parents are 88.
Diagnosed 1970.
Has had shock therapy.
"Carried" a baby for 7 years.
4 non-supportive siblings.
Taking klonopin (Clonazepam), Ambien CR, Celexa
Physically abused for not behaving.

The sad laundry list goes on.

I called 9-1-1 after I discovered she drank a bottle of Robitussin for non-existent emphysema, an after realizing that the best thing for her was the ER. The best thing for me was also her being in the ER.

I had to be honest with my limitations. It wasn't a matter of "it's not my responsibility", but seeing her as I did, made ME stressed.

She was non-cooperative with NYPD and paramedics unless I was there. I even got angry with one paramedic because he yelled at her and screamed that he needed to take her blood pressure.

I grabbed him by the arm the same way he did her and scolded him not to ever do it again. Then I showed him exactly how to get her to cooperate; which she did.

I ultimately went to the ER with her, and stayed until 2am until she gave blood work, took meds, and relaxed.

Before I left the ER, Vanessa apologized to me (she called me every obscenity on the planet and made some up as well, but I'm used to that). I told her an apology wasn't necessary. What she said next crushed me:

"Natasha, I'm trapped in my own body. I want to be normal, I want to have a life, a boyfriend, friends, but I feel like I can't be alone. I don't trust myself to take care of me. No one listens to me or knows how to take care of me. My family is sick of dealing with me. What do I do?"

I've been there, but I had no answers.

I told her that I, too was bipolar, to which she SCREAMED that she was not.

I've learned in the last couple months that sharing what made me better, at times appears judgmental, so she didn't want me to, but I prayed with her, and assured her that I'd call the next day.