Movies n' shit

Today's blog post has no point except to talk about movies. And panic attacks.

I've been taking very good care of myself lately (lately = within the last week). Not to sound too AA or cliché (I RHYMED!), but when you're a non-active alcoholic living each day with my damaged, fabulous brain, I really must count small victories and deal with one day at a time. There's no other way I find that works for me. "Today, I will wake up, take a walk, smile selflessly at another human being, eat well, and not drink. OH, AND BE HAPPY." If I think of "I won't drink for 6 months" or "I will never ever drink again," the thought is honestly too depressing and in my mind, comparable to doing yoga in 6 inch stilettos. 

So I find other ways of keeping myself/busy/entertained. I'm adopting a certain actor's motto of "Keep myself amused and other confused." I recommend it, it's highly entertaining and very easy to do when I'm not distracted by thoughts of how to get my next fix (of booze). However, in an apparently masochistic attempt of having a low-key Friday evening, last night I decided I'd make it a movie night and watch 'August Osage County' and 'Blue Jasmine.' Catching up on some amazing Oscar flicks, right?!

Rather unfortunate choice of angsty movies, A.

Let's talk AOC:

A) I will never think my family is fucked up ever again

2) HOLY SHIT, Meryl, Julia, and cast.

and D) Nothing like watching someone else's dysfunction to make you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. In your own house. ON A FRIDAY NIGHT.

Since I was already blown away by one stellar (albeit, completely messed up movie) I figured I'd follow with the performance that could (unfathomably) somehow beat Meryl's in AOC.

Meat Jesus on a Stick, Cate Blanchett. 

In my humble opinion, everyone has a film or show that regardless of how many times, they feel physically uncomfortable watching it. For myself, it's 'Meet the Parents.' (My sister's is 'The Office.') I'm not sure why; perhaps it's the uncomfortable situations the protagonist finds himself in or the general ridiculousness of everything, but I dislike awkward situations so much so that I run away from fictional ones too.

I haven't had that kind of anxiety watching a movie in a while. 'Blue Jasmine'? WHOLE. NEW. LEVEL.

I have never (NEVAAAAAR) seen a portrayal of a downward spiral done so well in a movie before, specifically, the representation of someone who suffers depression, anxiety, and debilitating panic attacks. It didn't make me physically unsettled as so much I FELT EXACTLY WHAT SHE WAS GOING THROUGH EACH TIME SHE BROKE DOWN. Her desperation made me feel short of breath. The scene of confronting her cheating husband and ultimately destroying her own existence knocked the wind out of me. Every time she reached for the Xanax, I understood....and each time she reached for the Stoli bottle, I wondered where my drink was. (Oh right...can't have one.)

I suppose, in a long winded fashion, what I'm trying to say is, if you're one of the people on this planet who doesn't "get" mental illness or have any idea what anxiety looks and feels like, watch 'Blue Jasmine.' It may make you feel squishy like hell internally, but you'll thank me for the added perspective. Or run screaming. Either way, what bliss for me.

And never marry rich. Or Alec Baldwin. Both should go without saying.

I'd also like to state for the record that I don't talk to myself in public. Anymore. Much.

I'm shutting up and ordering Chinese now.

The Poodle Monster

A friend recently asked me what it was like to be in my head... specifically, she questioned (and had questions) about my recently diagnosed Bipolar Type II disorder. I tried to answer her inquiry and then realized that it's actually something really complex and fairly complicated to try and explain. I can't just summarize what it's like to be bipolar, or to have depression and anxiety simultaneously going on. But I really wanted to talk about it because I think it's important to share my stories. Is anyone ever going to know what it's like inside my head? No. However, I can paint a picture for you with my words and experiences, probably leaving you wondering how such a brilliant, funny person can (much of the time) be imprisoned by nothing more than her own brain. 

WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ME: A SHORT STORY

So here's a list of some of the fun things that I currently suffer from/ am afflicted with -

*Depression

*Anxiety

*Bipolar II

*Alcoholism (I'm guessing. Most likely. Probably. OK, yes.)

*OCD
*Panic attacks

*Control issues
*Nightmares. I never dream. I wake up in sweat most mornings like someone with PTSD, only I don't have PTSD, so WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, BRAIN?

*And the fun disorder I like to call, "Oh, look, a butterfly!" which isn't really a disorder at all, but I definitely have concentration issues. 

In other words, sometimes (OK, a lot of the time) it's really not fun to be inside my head. And I ache for relief so much to just be away from my head...even if only for an hour or two. 

Sometime after January, after being diagnosed officially and on my new meds for about a month and not drinking, I was feeling really good. For me to feel good for any length of time is pretty miraculous. I've been in therapy for depression since I was 9, and on medication for at least 5 years now. Its been a roller-coaster of different cocktails and therapies to try to alleviate a lot of my inner anguish. I didn't even know I was bipolar until I finally sucked it up and met with a psychiatrist because something else just always felt...off . But for the first time in a very long time, the beginning of this year really FELT like a new beginning.

And then I started to drink again. 

When you think of a drink, like grabbing a drink with a friend after work, or having a glass of wine by yourself in the evening to finish up a hard day, you're probably thinking on a level of one, MAYBE two glasses. Or maybe a six pack. (No judgement, believe me) Most normals do. I GET IT. Six packs are fun. Wine is fun. BOOZE IS GREAT. Unless you have a predilection towards addiction.

When I drink, I don't have a glass. I don't even have just a bottle. I have the bottle AND a six pack. And then I keep searching for more. At Christmas, when two bottles of wine are placed on my parent's dining room table for 6 people to share, I look around and wonder what everyone else is going to be drinking. That's just how my brain is wired.

And it's not just the booze. When I drink, I also tend to reach out for the Xanax or Vicodin too - BECAUSE LET'S JUST KEEP THIS CRAZY PARTY GOING AMIRITE?!?!?!?!

I read somewhere that bipolar peeps are more likely to have substance abuse problems. Not being 100% sure why this seems to be true scientifically, it makes sense to me. Being in my head is, well, a lot of work. You'd want to escape, too. I use it as a way to shut off from other people and the world. When I'm shut down, I don't have to think. I can't feel. Therefore, I am protected. For about an hour, I get to experience an "not totured" mind space. 

But of course, this doesn't last. And it certainly does not make for a present, clear, and purposeful way of living. It's existing. Just being without actually "being." And it's not a way to love yourself or have anyone else love you, either.

I've stopped drinking....for the moment. I don't know for how long. Chances are, will I drink again? Yes, probably. Why? I have no idea. Nothing good usually comes from me drinking for any length of time. I gain weight, I'm unhappy, I get nothing (personally or professionally) accomplished, and there are complete spaces in time I don't actually remember. 

But I will try...WILL try...not to. I will try NOT to get sucked into the darkened vortex that is my pitch-black passenger, telling me no one will ever love me because at that moment in time, I don't actually love myself.

This is what it's like. This is what is called "being me."

So here's to us. The "Broken" People." We are beautiful with our cracks and vulnerabilities and shredded souls. We fight the inner battle and it doesn't mean we have to be silent about it. If I am able to help just ONE person by talking about it, sharing my stories and myself with humor and openness, then maybe I can get up tomorrow knowing the sun will shine a little brighter for this world.*

*Technically, the Earth will eventually be swallowed by the Sun so it really IS getting brighter out there, not to mention we're on a precipice of an Arizona summer at the moment. You can always count on me for the realistic reinforcement. You're welcome.

(Oh, and my darling friend, the answer to your question is, being bipolar is like having a Poodle*-Monster running around your brain. You wake up in the morning not knowing if bouncy ass, ADHD Tigger is going to emerge or Eeyore will be making his presence known today. Either the monster who wants you to stay in bed and cry or the party animal will show up. It's a neurological coin toss.

*For the record, Poodles are the worst.) 

But I get through this. I get through my days and nights with a little lot of help from my friends. I've found good people. MY people. In real life, on Twitter, etc., and I honestly don't know how I could face each day without the light these people shine into my heart. You make me the funny, light, brilliant person I show to the world...except you actually make me BE her, instead of just pretending to be The Girl Who Makes Everyone Laugh.

And in case you ever need direction on what to do if I'm having a moment, or you know a pal in need of any caring from the formerly discussed topics,  please see the following diagram: