So, yesterday my husband headed out to sell his blood. Well, it's technically "donating plasma" and they pay you for time, but that's not the way I see it.
He was denied. They required a note from his doctor saying he's mentally fit to donate.
mmmmkay?
I am terribly confused, shocked and a bit angry on his behalf that something like bipolar could bar someone from donating plasma, but I do have to say I'm awfully relieved.
I've done a good job of ABSOLUTELY STAYING OUT OF IT.
I figured it was totally his deal and I avoided talking about it or reminding him at all. He remembered on his own so I figured he actually wanted to. . . Until he was just about headed out the door.
"Are you sure you want to?" The words slipped out of my mouth and I winced at my lack of self-control.
"No," he stated flatly, "but we need the money."
And my heart sank. My nausea was justified and I felt awful.
I don't want to be at that point where the man who my life revolves around feels like he has to sell his blood for us to survive.
So, I applied for a second job. *sigh*
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Aspie Anger
As an aspie, I often feel like John from the Watchmen.
Unlike the average bear, which are born with communication instincts, I have to constantly learn things, like how to change your voice when you're happy, and how to shriek when scared.
The people in my life often don't know how I'm feeling.
Except, my beloved bipolar husband. He knows how I'm feeling.
Yesterday, after I washed off the stove, swept the floor, washed the couch cushion covers and the throw blanket I didn't have time to finish the dishes. I took the girls to the carousel to allow him a breather from his full-time job as a Stay-At-Home-Dad.
That evening, while getting the girls down for bedtime, I did need him, but I avoided asking him for much.
After this fun, but exhausting day, he complains that the dishes he needs to cook with are dirty.
I felt terribly angry and unappreciated, so I called him "Mr. Complainy Pants." Anyone else would have thought that was cute and pretty much ignored it.
He knew though. He knew it was my extreme emotions popping out, so he apologized with donuts because he is the sweetest person I know.
Unlike the average bear, which are born with communication instincts, I have to constantly learn things, like how to change your voice when you're happy, and how to shriek when scared.
The people in my life often don't know how I'm feeling.
Except, my beloved bipolar husband. He knows how I'm feeling.
Yesterday, after I washed off the stove, swept the floor, washed the couch cushion covers and the throw blanket I didn't have time to finish the dishes. I took the girls to the carousel to allow him a breather from his full-time job as a Stay-At-Home-Dad.
That evening, while getting the girls down for bedtime, I did need him, but I avoided asking him for much.
After this fun, but exhausting day, he complains that the dishes he needs to cook with are dirty.
I felt terribly angry and unappreciated, so I called him "Mr. Complainy Pants." Anyone else would have thought that was cute and pretty much ignored it.
He knew though. He knew it was my extreme emotions popping out, so he apologized with donuts because he is the sweetest person I know.
Monday, September 26, 2016
I Love the Lulls
I love when there is nothing to report.
It's so nice to have normal time.
I'm planning on taking the Tiny Girl Pile to the children's museum today while our big girl is at school, so I'll have to keep an eye out for little Bubbles getting over excited, but it seems like we're gearing up for a pretty normal week!
It's so nice to have normal time.
I'm planning on taking the Tiny Girl Pile to the children's museum today while our big girl is at school, so I'll have to keep an eye out for little Bubbles getting over excited, but it seems like we're gearing up for a pretty normal week!
Friday, September 23, 2016
The Edge of Mania
My beloved bipolar husband revealed that two things can spark his "crazy."
Money and Flies!
Well, sleep has been so-so. It seems like we've been getting a good 5 or 6 hours a night, which I appreciate greatly.
We're developing a game where we see who can make the most money starting off with a $20 budget and I think the amount of thinking and research he's doing towards this goal might be the edge of a mania.
For those of you interested, the clues that he's tip toeing on the pool edge is that he stays up as late as he can gorging on information. He literally can't get enough.
The whole day, while he's buried deep in research, his eyes are glassy and bright, like a kid who was just handed a big gift box wrapped in pretty paper.
There is mild hesitation when I ask him to do things. I have to ask him a few times, but when he's full manic, he won't respond at all when I ask him to do things.
My beloved bipolar keeps a good handle on his mind, so I'm not concerned so far. I trust him quite a lot.
See ya next week ;)
Money and Flies!
Well, sleep has been so-so. It seems like we've been getting a good 5 or 6 hours a night, which I appreciate greatly.
We're developing a game where we see who can make the most money starting off with a $20 budget and I think the amount of thinking and research he's doing towards this goal might be the edge of a mania.
For those of you interested, the clues that he's tip toeing on the pool edge is that he stays up as late as he can gorging on information. He literally can't get enough.
The whole day, while he's buried deep in research, his eyes are glassy and bright, like a kid who was just handed a big gift box wrapped in pretty paper.
There is mild hesitation when I ask him to do things. I have to ask him a few times, but when he's full manic, he won't respond at all when I ask him to do things.
My beloved bipolar keeps a good handle on his mind, so I'm not concerned so far. I trust him quite a lot.
See ya next week ;)
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Lost Track
It's been seven weeks now, one week shy of two months, since I've started blogging about living with my beloved bipolar. I feel like some days, I get so caught up on what I should share, that I've forgotten that I just wanted to show people how normal it is to live with, and be in love with, someone with bipolar.
I wanted to show people how normal our lives are despite his bipolar, or even because of his bipolar.
I will say that parts of our lives are extraordinary, and people have looked at us with jealousy, however, we have coffee when we wake up. I go to work. We eat scrambled eggs and sometimes forget to brush our teeth. We get tired and cranky. Sometimes we workout, sometimes we go months without working out. We get rained on.
Life is normal. It has both good and bad parts and everyone has a choice to surround themselves with as much good as they can. You also have the choice to see more good around you. I adore my husband, so I see the good in him every day, and as you think of someone you adore, you'll find it's so easy see the pleasant things in your own life. It's easy to feel happy when every day, you can go out and see at least one thing that makes you happy. A person, a pet, a piece of jewelry even, can make you feel a glowing happiness. Something so simple can make you feel like life is worthwhile. It can make you glow inside. It can even make you feel glad to be alive, because there are all these tiny fragments of happiness floating around you all the time. You might not have even realized that you have collected them around you, quite possibly to remind you to be happy.
I find happiness frequently in this life I've built around myself and I bet, if you look around, you can see something that makes you happy, today, to.
I wanted to show people how normal our lives are despite his bipolar, or even because of his bipolar.
I will say that parts of our lives are extraordinary, and people have looked at us with jealousy, however, we have coffee when we wake up. I go to work. We eat scrambled eggs and sometimes forget to brush our teeth. We get tired and cranky. Sometimes we workout, sometimes we go months without working out. We get rained on.
Life is normal. It has both good and bad parts and everyone has a choice to surround themselves with as much good as they can. You also have the choice to see more good around you. I adore my husband, so I see the good in him every day, and as you think of someone you adore, you'll find it's so easy see the pleasant things in your own life. It's easy to feel happy when every day, you can go out and see at least one thing that makes you happy. A person, a pet, a piece of jewelry even, can make you feel a glowing happiness. Something so simple can make you feel like life is worthwhile. It can make you glow inside. It can even make you feel glad to be alive, because there are all these tiny fragments of happiness floating around you all the time. You might not have even realized that you have collected them around you, quite possibly to remind you to be happy.
I find happiness frequently in this life I've built around myself and I bet, if you look around, you can see something that makes you happy, today, to.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
In Other News: Aspie News
I've always thought that my beloved bipolar husband was just incredibly accepting of the challenges I face everyday, all the time, but he said something the other day that makes me feel like, maybe he just really doesn't see it.
He often says I'm stressed too much, and I am. Sometimes he takes it personally and he shouldn't.
I can imagine how frustrating it must be to see someone you love so much never being quite as happy as you'd like your life with them to make them.
I do tend to always have something to complain about. Life isn't where I want it to be. I've failed at my life goals repeatedly for a few years in a row and as an Aspie, I have to say that it is just thoroughly devastating.
I've wanted to own my own house, on acreage, with chickens since I was 12. I'm almost 30 now and it breaks my heart when my girls can't play soccer in our yard because it's too small.
But really, the reason I'm so crabby is the over stimulation, ALL THE TIME. It's hard to handle the feeling of clothing.
As a kid did you ever get shoved in something that was just a little bit too tight? Not to the cutting off circulation point, just where the arm holes are uncomfortably snug and the bottom pulls up when you lift your arms and the part across the chest is a bit too tight?
I'm not a huge person. If I weren't an Aspie, I'd wear a medium, but since I am, I am only comfortable in XL or bigger. I like to swim in my clothes so they don't touch me much.
I don't "tune sounds out" like other people can. I'm so very, very jealous of that skill. I hear refrigerator, all the time. Occasionally it shuts off and then I hear the lack of something that should be there, which makes me uncomfortable because then I'm subconsciously thinking about what's broken, and my hair. I will admit, I don't feel every hair I have, but I feel a lot of them. I shave the back of my neck because those tiny hairs feel like a collection of needles, constantly point-in in my neck and any light touch swirls those points around in my flesh. Around my hairline, especially on my temples, those hairs aren't painful so much as invasive, almost like an itchy scab. I've shaved twice in my life. Ran around bald for as long as I could stand the backlash. As an "attractive" white girl, it's not socially acceptable to be bald on purpose, especially while wearing a 5XL coco puff t shirt.
Well it was my hair that tipped me off. He happens to like Power Hair! So I've been trying to master the Power Ponytail. It takes more hair product than I normally use, which is fine, however the smell of the gel I used gave me a headache to the nauseous point.
So I'm headed off to the shower to wash it out and he recommends using cocoa paste in stead. When I told him that the cocoa paste wouldn't make my head stop aching he was confused,
"But it smells like delicious chocolate," he retorted in confusion.
"Yes it does, and it would give me a headache," I stated, in the blunt factual way I state truths. I'm sure none of the emotions swirling around me showed, I'm sure I looked relatively "Poker faced" as my perceptions of his acceptance crumbled and curled around me like a choking mental smoke.
I no longer have any notion of what he knows about how I perceive things, but he's so supportive and sweet that it doesn't change anything other than my own mind.
Even if he doesn't know why I need to shower, he watches the kiddos and allows me time to decompress.
Even if he doesn't know why I sometimes can't bring myself out of my baggy clothes, he never complains about it. He still calls me sexy, even when I loaf around in jamie pants.
Even if he can't comprehend my situation, he's always there to support me and love me.
I hope everyone has someone in their lives who is as wonderful as my beloved bipolar is.
He often says I'm stressed too much, and I am. Sometimes he takes it personally and he shouldn't.
I can imagine how frustrating it must be to see someone you love so much never being quite as happy as you'd like your life with them to make them.
I do tend to always have something to complain about. Life isn't where I want it to be. I've failed at my life goals repeatedly for a few years in a row and as an Aspie, I have to say that it is just thoroughly devastating.
I've wanted to own my own house, on acreage, with chickens since I was 12. I'm almost 30 now and it breaks my heart when my girls can't play soccer in our yard because it's too small.
But really, the reason I'm so crabby is the over stimulation, ALL THE TIME. It's hard to handle the feeling of clothing.
As a kid did you ever get shoved in something that was just a little bit too tight? Not to the cutting off circulation point, just where the arm holes are uncomfortably snug and the bottom pulls up when you lift your arms and the part across the chest is a bit too tight?
I'm not a huge person. If I weren't an Aspie, I'd wear a medium, but since I am, I am only comfortable in XL or bigger. I like to swim in my clothes so they don't touch me much.
I don't "tune sounds out" like other people can. I'm so very, very jealous of that skill. I hear refrigerator, all the time. Occasionally it shuts off and then I hear the lack of something that should be there, which makes me uncomfortable because then I'm subconsciously thinking about what's broken, and my hair. I will admit, I don't feel every hair I have, but I feel a lot of them. I shave the back of my neck because those tiny hairs feel like a collection of needles, constantly point-in in my neck and any light touch swirls those points around in my flesh. Around my hairline, especially on my temples, those hairs aren't painful so much as invasive, almost like an itchy scab. I've shaved twice in my life. Ran around bald for as long as I could stand the backlash. As an "attractive" white girl, it's not socially acceptable to be bald on purpose, especially while wearing a 5XL coco puff t shirt.
Well it was my hair that tipped me off. He happens to like Power Hair! So I've been trying to master the Power Ponytail. It takes more hair product than I normally use, which is fine, however the smell of the gel I used gave me a headache to the nauseous point.
So I'm headed off to the shower to wash it out and he recommends using cocoa paste in stead. When I told him that the cocoa paste wouldn't make my head stop aching he was confused,
"But it smells like delicious chocolate," he retorted in confusion.
"Yes it does, and it would give me a headache," I stated, in the blunt factual way I state truths. I'm sure none of the emotions swirling around me showed, I'm sure I looked relatively "Poker faced" as my perceptions of his acceptance crumbled and curled around me like a choking mental smoke.
I no longer have any notion of what he knows about how I perceive things, but he's so supportive and sweet that it doesn't change anything other than my own mind.
Even if he doesn't know why I need to shower, he watches the kiddos and allows me time to decompress.
Even if he doesn't know why I sometimes can't bring myself out of my baggy clothes, he never complains about it. He still calls me sexy, even when I loaf around in jamie pants.
Even if he can't comprehend my situation, he's always there to support me and love me.
I hope everyone has someone in their lives who is as wonderful as my beloved bipolar is.
Monday, September 19, 2016
How much I Love My Beloved Bipolar
My husband has had two jobs where he was making $2000 more a month than we are now.
During the first one, we saw him on weekends, and on Wednesdays.
It was so devastating to our little girl, who was about two at the time, she broke down when she said bye-bye. It wasn't normal little girl "parent going to work" crying, it was "abandonment issues in the making crying." So, he left that job for the second one to spend more time with us. Specifically, to spend more time with her.
Well, that didn't work out well either because they'd put him up in a hotel every other week, and send him hours away on the other weeks.
He was too far away when I had our third daughter and he missed her birth because of that job. It's not something he'll ever, ever get over.
Jobs are never more important than the beloved people in your life.
So now we live paycheck-to-paycheck, never eating out and never going out to movies or camping. Saving up for back-to-school was incredibly difficult, but it's worth ever lack of penny.
According to math, I love him enough to pay $2000/month at keep him home with us.
If you are bipolar, don't let anyone say you're not lovable.
During the first one, we saw him on weekends, and on Wednesdays.
It was so devastating to our little girl, who was about two at the time, she broke down when she said bye-bye. It wasn't normal little girl "parent going to work" crying, it was "abandonment issues in the making crying." So, he left that job for the second one to spend more time with us. Specifically, to spend more time with her.
Well, that didn't work out well either because they'd put him up in a hotel every other week, and send him hours away on the other weeks.
He was too far away when I had our third daughter and he missed her birth because of that job. It's not something he'll ever, ever get over.
Jobs are never more important than the beloved people in your life.
So now we live paycheck-to-paycheck, never eating out and never going out to movies or camping. Saving up for back-to-school was incredibly difficult, but it's worth ever lack of penny.
According to math, I love him enough to pay $2000/month at keep him home with us.
If you are bipolar, don't let anyone say you're not lovable.
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