Category: Uncategorized
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You’ll find your color again – someday
I don’t feel home any where these days. When I’m home I feel a massive void. I feel a yearn to be somewhere else but then any new idea is bogged down with burdens of finances, leaving my sons, work, etc. So it doesn’t feel like I belong anywhere. I think I have no hobbies…
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I’m sorry, I have bipolar
It has been 5 years since this photo was taken approximately. This was the moment I was told I have bipolar. I took a video actually so I could remember what the doctor instructed me to do with my latuda and PRN anxiety med. I remember that it felt like I knew it was coming…
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My empty social cup
It’s always the nights I’m laying awake, lingering caffeine racing through my veins, that my husband works long hours the next morning and I know it’ll be me and the kids solo and I’ll be exhausted. I can only blame myself but damnit if I’m not dreading the early rising morning with the littles ones.…
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My Overstimulated Search for Silence
It’s like it is all catching up to me. The bills in the mail on the 3rd reminder letter. The piles of laundry shoved into corners in the room that I swore I’ve redone numerous times. Watching my husbands patience tick away daily because he’s over worked and over tired. Every moan and whine from…
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Living in the Mystery of Life
My therapist gave me permission this week to live in the mystery of life. This was in reference to some really specific circumstances but I was able to apply it to a grander scale this weekend. See, this weekend was my oldest son 6th birthday and we celebrated with new friends and our camper out…
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Why do the good times feel so short and the bad times feel so long? Sincerely, a bereaved daughter. trigger warning for suicide
21 years have passed since my dad died mysteriously in our family home, where my brother, my childhood best friend, and I found him: lifeless, naked, and hanging off the edge of his bed. We waited for him at the pick up spot like we did every Sunday as my parents were divorced. He never…
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why progress makes improvement (not perfection)
I unintentionally hate my baby some moments. Not days. Not all the time. The moments are brief and fleeting but they’re there and I have to verbalize it or else it’s a secret that festers in my mind. There’s a few reasons I come to this conclusion and standpoint at times and I won’t deny…
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Letter to my lost identity (sad letter)
Dear self, You are in the thickest part of self actualization right now. You had finally figured out what it meant to be your edgy sassy self along with the sarcastic love abundance of being in the hood of motherhood too. You rocked the “mom life” with your one son and felt the addition of…
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“Motherhood over researching syndrome” and why I hate Oat Milk
The title of this is big and bulky for reasons not better explained other than it will all be iterated here in this post. I’m in bed, it’s almost midnight and I just got done nursing then pumping immediately after. My husband is asleep next to me, and I am eating this oat milk Oreo…
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Finally fixing that noise in my car
I’m laughing this morning to myself, as I listen to the rhythm of my breast pump. I scored a motif pump this baby and let me tell you, it’s like the Tesla of pumps! I’m sitting in a hotel room because I managed to be able to go with my husband for a night away…
The Bipolar Blogging Mom 