Monthly Archives: June 2014

Is there Really such a thing as too much Wine?

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Lately I’ve been drinking at least a bottle of wine a night, all on my ownsome.  I have the occasional moment of paranoia, seeing as how addiction is a huge symptom of bipolar, and question my reasons for drinking that bottle of wine.  That day.  And the day after that.  Then I start remembering all my other buddies who have a bottle of wine at night and they don’t think they are crazy at all (I beg to differ).  So then I convince myself that really, I’m not doing anything my besties aren’t doing.  But then I remember that they aren’t taking at least 10 pills a day.  Then that thought just stresses me the fuck out.  I start getting all upset about the fact that I am on meds.  I confess to my psychiatrist.  He tells me not to drink any more wine.  I agree.  I stop off at the Liquor store on my way home.  I drink the wine.  It tastes good and frankly makes the world seem like a nicer place.

And this is where a problem might arise.  Cause after that bottle of wine, this thing called sleep occurs (whether you want it to or not), and this even bigger thing called the next day arrives.  And by ‘arrives’ I mean opens the front door and starts throwing bricks at you.  Perhaps even a couple of buckets of ice cold water.  And so, reality brings with it another day and you have to get up and go and interact with other… people!  So you’re feeling shit and you can’t undo last night.  So you go online.  For fucks sakes.  Online is not a happy place.  What time does the liquor store close? 

Now we all know that all is not well with human beings. So when is there ever NOT a day that being online doesn’t become traumatising at one point or another?  So really, I don’t see why I can’t drink wine every night if people can be blowing each other up somewhere else every night.  Ugh, see – I read that online.  And now I have to go pour myself another glass of wine.  Lucky I see my psychiatrist next week.  The mental health version of the Catholic Church’s confession box.

 

A thin line between Life and Laughter

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I am obviously passionate about the injustices of this world.  I don’t think being bipolar helps with my deep sensitivities towards the abuse of women and children, and the lack of respect we have for one another as human being.  But I am completely clueless as to why we can’t laugh at ourselves. How we can only see the dark in ourselves and choose to act within the confines of the darkness.

I have had so many traumatic experiences in my life.  But I choose to laugh.  At myself, at my experiences, at my choices, and yes, at other peoples choices too!  I am 100% non judgmental.  I pride myself in that, coupled with my honesty and real commitment to someone else’ pain.  It’s not easy, feeling so deeply connected to other people.  But as much as I feel their pain, I can feel their joy.  I try and take something away from each experience I have, and more importantly, each experience that someone else chooses to share with me.

There is nothing better in life than laughing.  Who cares if the table next to you find you loud and obnoxious. They are just asking to be laughed at!  Take my bipolar for example… When I tell friends and acquaintances I am always the first to say “I know right, you all knew before I did’.  It takes away the awkwardness and I can’t beef about something so true.  I have always had really serious mood swings.  I feel sorry for those who dared to wake me up in the morning.  I once even threw a cup of coffee across my bedroom because I felt manipulated into getting up.  Can you imagine?  But a day later I’d apologised and was pointing out my own ridiculous behaviour.

Life is so traumatic today.  If only we didn’t take ourselves, our individual personalities so seriously, if only we didn’t judge other people. If only we didn’t crave power so much that we trample every obstacle that comes our way, going so far as to send our own sons into Wars they have no idea of what exactly it is they are risking their lives for.  If only we were happy with what we have, not salivating at what we want. Perhaps if we learn to laugh at ourselves, we won’t feel the need to act out of hatred. 

I choose to see the good in the bad. The tickle in the tragedy.  I know I offend many a reader on my various social network platforms, but ease up there, Sensitive Sally… if you take yourself out of the equation, you may just be able to laugh at something you never dreamed you could!

Don’t feed the Beasts

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I am at a loss for words.  Literally.  The War against Women is rife.  Everyday there is a horror story, somewhere, anywhere.  How do we turn back time?  Can we even find a time to turn back to? A time when Women weren’t seen as anything but equals deserving of the same rights and equalities as Men?  No matter which direction you look in – Men have legally reduced us to property since the beginning of time.  Sadly, we support this to this day.  Culturally, religiously, socially. 

Fundraising and awareness of almost extinct animals are everywhere you turn.  At your local shopping stores.  Everywhere.  Nobody, including women, want to talk about the REAL Rhino in the room.  Mention something like this on Facebook and you get accused of being a *gasp* FEMINIST!  What the fuck?  Even women say this, happy to stand BEHIND their man.  Don’t make too much noise in the bush!  You might get trampled by a man I mean BEAST.

Come on girls.  Nobody is going to fight and win this war with a muzzle over their heads.  Empowering women less fortunate than you does NOT make you a feminist.  Think of the world you want your daughters to grow up in.  Then wake up tomorrow and DO something about it.