Blessings, joy, loss, grief. To go through certain emotions and in cycles is normal for most people not just those of us with bipolar. Right now though, I’m trying to figure out if these are normal emotional cycles or if my bipolar greatness has graced me with her presence. In the last few weeks I have been in a better mood than I have in awhile. A long while. I started working out first thing in the morning before work, I wasn’t as agitated as easily. I was able to communicate. I wasn’t eating hardly any processed sugar. Most of it was going well, until the end of last week and this week. I’m tired, irritable, annoyed and I haven’t been pressing as hard in workouts. My eating hasn’t been great. I’m sad. Last Friday would have been my grandpa’s birthday. He died almost a year and a half ago. The station had the last Polka Party. Ending a 39 year tradition and something my grandpa loved. We had to rehome Onyx and that made me sad. Watching my children’s hearts break was devastating. A huge scary work project got dumped on me and I’m freaking out about it and shutting down all at the same time. I’m super forgetful, I’ve driven or started driving to wrong places. So is this normal life-emotional cycle or am I going hypomanic. My favorite guessing game/amusement park ride. The mental health roller coaster. God please help me. Help me go back to feeling like I was thriving instead of the current survival mode. Wanting to crawl in a hole.

Big Daddy Weave is a christian artist that released the above song title. Its always got me thinking about my story. Before and after my new found relationship with God. There are parts that are definitely not pretty but some are absolutely beautiful. On Sunday we went to dinner after a ball game and there were these questions. “What is your favorite memory of me?” It stuck with me.

Last night and the few days previous I’ve been inspired by those who chased the impossible and it made me think that where I am sitting right now, felt like the impossible, and where I want to be seems impossible too. One woman said that she wrote out every dream she had. One of my favorite comics talked about following your passion. I guess I just needed to write out my thoughts on all of it. What are my goals now? Whats my passion or driving force now? Whats my story and what do I want it to be?

When I graduated high school, I had the idea that I wanted to go into radio but I wasn’t sure. I mean, you get to play music and talk all day, how could that be bad. The first time I walked into Kat103 I was a freaking anxious wreck and then within minutes my heart was beating for an entirely different reason. I was instantly at ease and had an overwhelming sense of “this is where I belong”. When I went to college I thought all I was planning on doing was playing music and talking, but then I started learning the business side of it, and was intrigued by the Program Director spot, now known as my current title, Operations Manager. I also fell completely in love with the creative aspect of making commercials and promos. I succeeded quite easily then, when I was focused. Then I let another dream mess alla that up. I had never dated. I hadn’t been popular. I hadn’t “partied”. 3 hours away from home sounded like a great time to try it all out. The enemy got into my heart without me knowing it, and I threw away all of my radio career dreams. Ironically, now all I do is the business and creative side of it, and I don’t actually talk on the radio and play music. In what I do though, I get to help the dreams of small business owners and others make their business dreams come true. I get to help them. I didn’t realize how important to me that was until now. Its inevitably a big reason why we stayed in Fremont when Jeremy was laid off. He wanted to move away and I couldn’t. I couldn’t walk away from my dream/passion, again.

I didn’t have a relationship with God. I had a reverence for him. I had tear filled moments where I begged for help. But I’ve never had the relationship I do now, and I wouldn’t have that without another of my greatest passions in my life. Being a mom. I want to be there for them and help them anyway I can. I want to advocate for them. I want to help them develop a relationship with God, so they have that, when the world goes sideways and when it doesn’t. I know want or am passionate about my faith and growing it in myself too. I want to help with the church. I want to fill my story from here on out, with Him.

I also have the passion/dream of advocating for mental health. I have been through hell. The enemy done tap danced on every square inch of my brain and back again. I’ve been prescribed and over-prescribed and under prescribed and ignored. I’ve hurt myself in multiple ways. I’ve tried to end my life. My current faith would have been helpful then. An advocate would have been great then. I’m passionate about helping and advocating for all of the people I love and have yet to so they never go through the hell I did.

But then there’s the “business” side of taking care of myself so I can do all of these things. I’ve fallen short of that so many times. Its a lesson I’ve been taught many times but yet, still don’t necessarily learn. I’m trying. I’m praying.

What do I want my story to look like? I want to be on air! I want to be the best damn operations manager possible. I want to be confident in all of that. I want to be the best damn mom I can be. I want my children to know how much and impossibly I love them. I want to lead by example that they can accomplish anything they put their heart and a few brain cells into. I want them to have faith beyond all understanding. I want to be healthy. Physically, mentally and spiritually.

Lord, thank you for my story. What its been and whatever is ahead. Thank you for all of it, because it all lead me to where I am today. I pray to find your path for me or continue on as I go to seek and rely on you. In your incredible name I pray. Amen.

I think there places that everyone believes they belong and places they don’t. This weekend and beginning to the week has made me think of my habitats. Where do I thrive? What brings me peace? Where do I belong? Am I where God wants me to be or the path he has set for me?

Decades ago I found the peace that being near a lake gives me. Walking around next to water and feeling the spray if the wind is up enough is an almost instant sense of peace. Sitting next to a crackling fire at night is soothing as all get out. When my family went camping this last weekend, it even brought about wonderful conversations between my and Daddy Bear. It was peace, until it wasn’t and then it was time to go home.

A lifetime ago when I was a stay at home mom, I would go to the gym two to three times a week and it became a comfortable atmosphere. This time around the whole healthy gettin’ journey, it gets more comfortable as I go, but its definitely not natural.

I started my radio internship at 17 years old. Almost exactly 20 years ago. I walked into that building full of nerves, but almost instantly had this sense of this is where I belong. I’ve even kept one of the people I met there as one of my best friends, and can’t imagine my life without them. When I started as a board op and set foot into my studio I instantly felt the sense of knowing. I let distraction set in and I walked away for awhile, but then when my family moved back to our hometown (My husband and I) surrounded by a support system, I went back to the station and haven’t doubted my choice at all. This place is my second home. The people in this building are my extended family. This is one of my habitats. Is it possible to have more than one? Now there are some cons to caring this much and having this sense of knowing. I’m a perfectionist by nature. So sometimes when I give my all to my job that I love and don’t give as much love to my other natural habitat, being Mama Bear. I also get so nervous and fear failure to the point where I begin shaking and sometimes my words don’t make sense. I just feel like an utter failure and that I’ve fooled myself into thinking this is what I should be doing and just stop while I don’t make it worse. Then as I feel like a failure and wasting time, I’ll get a compliment from a potential advertiser, that is now an advertiser (my spot helped persuade them) and a new set of business cards and I remember how hard I have worked and how it has paid off to the job that I partly dreamed about in college. Just because its what I love, is it what God wants for me. I’m going to go with yes. I’m praying I’m right, and I just need to maneuver the challenges that come with it. Perfection only exists in Gods love. No where else.

Then there is the habitat of my children’s arms. Holding them, I hold the true reason I believe the Lord has put me on this earth. With their hugs and words speaking “I love you” I feel like I am in the worlds most important assignment and habitat. Again, it comes with a whole lotta work, worry, anxiety, tears, feels of failure and unrealistic/impossible expectation of needing to execute it perfectly. Also, the need to juggle habitats.

Then the challenge I’ve been struggling with. Juggling habitats. The job I love and occasionally great at and have worked so hard to succeed at. The family I have built and “job” of mom that I couldn’t survive without. The rest I guess falls into self care. I doubt anyone doubts my dedication to my job. I think anyone who is a parent falls into the category of feeling like a failure.

Lord, I pray you guide my steps. Thank you beyond words for the incredible blessings you have given me. I’m so sorry I don’t always see my blessings as what they are and that I fail to thank you for them. Please be with all of the people I love. Those that need you. Please Lord, let me succeed at the assignments/habitats you have given me. And thank you Lord, for your perfect love. Amen

So the whole point of this blog is to get healthy. Mentally and physically. I think the mental part is improving. The physical side, I haven’t really intentionally working on, other than a few random workouts. Until last week. A friend introduced me to the concept of the “FAST” diet. I’m not following it, strictly. It has however got my brain started back on the track of counting calories, watching my choices and working out. I haven’t gone overboard. I just counted calories Thursday. I started some loosely based meal prep for the week. Then I started counting calories and working out again Monday. I messed up my knee Monday night, so I took yesterday off of the workout and instead focused on calories and drinking water. It wasn’t intentional, but I met the gallon challenge. That’s crazy to me. 128 oz of water. Today my knee is still sore and braced, but I have my gym bag packed and plan on biking or seated elliptical or something, and hopefully some weights. We’ll see. I’ve counted my calories this morning. I packed a healthy-ish lunch (there’s always room for improvement). I’m trying and my brain is wanting to train. In the past that’s been my problem. My brain is comfortable with the extra fluff and fur but curses it all at the same time. Right now, I’m ready for the fur to fly. I pray that my quest for health continues. I’m not looking necessarily for a number goal, but I feel good today. I pray Lord, this continues. In your name I pray! Amen!

Last night in the process of working out, I hit my hard rock playlists. Last nights choice was Halestorm, and then the feeling happened. The enemy gave me a hit of that beautiful, horrible, addictive drug/sin through my veins that made my head spin and heart beat faster and of course made me want more. Making me want to sing at the top of my lungs all of last night and this morning. Imagining myself as Lzzy Hale on stage. Being wanted, adored, being the bad girl.

I make jokes or comments that bipolar and schizophrenia HAVE to be linked somehow, because I have different personalities. The one I was originally was focused on (before I went to the gym) was getting healthy and praying and seeking God and remembering his timing. Wanting to follow the Lord and seek success in serving him and in the assignments he has given me.

Then music came into the picture and it flipped the switch. The 24 year old that was at the bar every weekend, writing rock songs about how broken she was came out. How great addiction felt. How craving being wanted in any way possible was glorious. Music I guess in general flips a switch, just depends on what personality gets hit. I changed my playlist back to Christian music awhile ago, because I know that wonderful, craving feeling is the enemy. It makes me want to seek fame, not faith. Sex appeal not health. Lust not love. It erases the part of my brain, and heart for that matter that wants a healthy, happy, God-filled family. I have it in my brain that I can’t have both. Music and my Family. I don’t know if its correct or not. I just know that wicked feeling that I found last night and this morning was like a shot of the right drink that makes you want more was coursing through my veins like lightning.

I’m sure that part of what helped it’s success was a rejection. I need to remember though, is it wasn’t a rejection it was a change in path, or a yield sign on my current path. It’s not the break up, self medicating, constant fucking up 24 year old, that wanted nothing more than to be wanted. To feel that sweet sin coursing through her veins. Instead of cursing and throwing up my hands, I need to fold my hands, kneel and say thank you for everything I have.

So Miss/Mister Angel and Miss/Mister Demon, you need to get off your ass! So I can dust off and fluff up the fur on my shoulders and keep going. Thank you, God, for helping me know the difference and helping me look for faith instead of falling further into sin. Amen

“Trust in God’s timing.” I’ve heard it most of my adult life. I can’t remember hearing it as a kid although I’m certain I heard it then too. Time. Waiting. Wanting. Surrender.

I’m not naturally a patient person. I get the idea of what I want and I go after it, or piss and moan in wanting, cursing fate for it not happening or being delayed. I’ve even told myself I just need to trust and have faith. Hell I have tattoos all over my bod that say he is with me. To have faith. He will give me what I need. To have hope in him and find joy, and yet my bear brain can’t either absorb the fact or just embraces the suck of the absent moment and whines.

Right now I feel defeated. I feel disappointed. I’m trying to tell myself that lesson over and over that I just need to trust in God’s timing. That his plans for me are for success and better than anything I could imagine or accomplish on my own.

So the new game plan is say a prayer. Wipe my tears. Publish this blog thingy and then go beat the ever loving hell out of myself at the gym. Amen

So its become increasingly obvious that I’m gaining weight, which is the exact opposite that should happen. I can only claim its fluffy fur to a point. So I’ve been talking to different friends and their journeys.

Once upon a time this bear stayed at home, tracked meals/calories, ate appropriate portion sizes, made more food, prepped, worked out, etc. She ended up losing over 50lbs. Now, however, in comparison, apologize for the language, but I’m a fucking bum. I’ve let life kick my big ole bear ass. I know its the past. Learn the lesson from it and move forward. I need to show myself “more grace than judgement”.

I’ve teamed up, or at least I pray it works as being accountable for the eating/calorie and stuff tracking side. I just gotta stick with it and modify my previous lifestyle to my current reality. I’m not chasing children all day. Doing housework. etc. I sit behind a desk. I don’t go to the gym, but I have the membership. I’m usually so exhausted by the end of the day, my give a damn about a healthy dinner is done broke. Getting healthy this way is just as important as getting mentally healthy. Teaching my Cubs how important both are and leading by example.

I pray for God’s help in this. Not only in the actual making it happen side, but giving myself more grace. Letting go of the past. Focus on the future and allow my faith to guide me through it all. Hills, Valleys and the Plateaus. With God, all things are possible! Matthew 19:26

Dream interpretation, identity/assignment identification and just becoming more mentally sound have been my life lately. I keep trying to remind myself that my assignments are products of what my identity can handle. They have been given to me for a reason or purpose. I asked for help learning to communicate when I’m upset. I’m doing better about identifying my emotions. I just need to learn how to communicate them. I think that’s where last nights completely out there dream came from.

I was driving a long narrow road (life). My mom was driving with me for some reason, (that I can’t quite figure out). We saw a bear on the side of the road and we were terrified. The bear then caught up to our vehicle and climbed into the back seat. (I still think it’s me because I identify myself as a bear). Am I living my life in the back seat? Terrified, in the dream, I try to call my husband. Frantic. I kept getting his voicemail. No communication (yup, we know that’s one of our huge problems). I then called someone I wish I hadn’t and after taking the advise given and trying to remain calm, the bear looked at me. Still completely frightened, the bear continued to stare at me and then threw up on me (this interpretation I’m a little fuzzy on). I’m sitting in the back seat of life with someone else driving it, not able to talk to my husband and my identity throwing up on the shell of myself. I’m literally making myself sick. I’m sick, not being who I really am. Now this dream, coincidentally, is occurring the night before I go get injections for my migraines and woke up with one hell of one after it. Am I making myself sick not being my identity. Focusing too closely on my assignments and taking them on as my identity, not communicating with the right people are making myself sick. Now all of that maybe a complete stretch. My anxiety overthinking EVERYTHING. Right now though, I want to be healthy and thriving, full of joy. Isn’t troubleshooting part of that process?

I celebrated the hell out of yesterday. I had success with a long standing technical problem at work. I went to the gym. I got feedback that we in radio, as well as myself loved hearing and I went on a walk with my husband and dogs. I prayed fearlessly. Then this dream happened, so I’m not sure how to place all the pieces together.

God, I pray to you, to continue my journey. If I am living in the backseat to my assignments I pray to you to help me allow you to drive and listen to you. I pray for you to help me communicate with those I love. I pray for you to help me physically and mentally become healthy to do the assignments you have blessed me with as my true identity is your child. Please also help everyone or be there for everyone I love, as we all have assignments that aren’t always easy. In your name, I pray.

For some reason, maybe it being Easter and celebrating the great “I am”, I’ve been drawn to the idea or felt the need to figure out who I am. Am I a just a mom, or wife, or bipolar patient, or radio op manager? Am I a hard ass as a parent, messing up my kids worse? Do they screw up because I’m not teaching them enough or the wrong things?

I saw a video from Tauren Wells one of my favorite Christian artists and he said that he thinks people get Identity and Assignment confused. Our Identity is a child of God. End of sentence. Everything else is an assignment God gives us. Daughter, Sister, Parent, Wife, Employee, Worshiper, etc. Those are assignments God has given me. I want an pray often to be the best at all of those. At all of the assignments. Flawless, no errors. Perfect. Even knowing that doesn’t exist.

So who am I? I am a child of God. He created me and wants me on this earth. He has given me assignments and opportunities to grow and fail. Growth occurs in the failures and through him success in my assignments, right?

Sometimes I still feel 17. Only in the fact that I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished what I think an almost 38 year old should have. Especially the expectations the 17 year old that graduated in 1999 had. There has been a whole lot of life in between. The gray in my hair thats getting more and more difficult to hide, the metabolism thats in the trash most days and increasing wrinkles are all reminders of me getting physically older. Why am I struggling to let go of that 17 year old. She had no clue how the world really is. How to take care of herself, let alone others. I’m blessed regardless.

Then I read some articles out of one of my favorite magazines that are focused on authenticity. That’s a different take on the whole Identity/Assignment situation. Am i genuine? Not always. I fear I am less than most of the time. I constantly am trying to be what I need to be in situations or for my assignments. My goal this year was to thrive and find joy regardless of circumstance, but maybe before that can happen (cause the enemy done been kickin’ my ass left and right) Maybe, I need to learn the difference between Identity and Assignment and who I am authentically regardless of which assignment I’m in the middle of. Regardless of whatever season I am in the middle of. Then, God the Father Almighty, will show me how to live in joy and thrive. I need to follow God and the rest of my assignments will be clear, in joy and thriving. The best follower of Christ, Daughter, Sister, Mother, Wife, Church Member, Friend, Coworker, boss and all of the assignments God puts in my path to Him. I cannot do any of those things or succeed in any of those assignments without Him.

Yesterday, I experienced one of the most terrifying events any parent going through. Thinking your child was missing. I received a text at 420 yesterday afternoon that my cub was gone. No one could find him or knew where he was. I darted out of my office and drove like a bat out of hell to one of his friends house the same time my husband showed up there too. He wasn’t there. I drove home and walked across the street to his other friends house. He wasn’t there. I stood in my driveway and screamed his full name like a crazy person. Nothing. I got back in my jeep and just grabbed my head. Where is he? Think like D. What would I be doing? This inner-dialogue was interrupted by the loud exhaust of my husband’s pickup. D was in the back seat. He found him a few blocks over. I took a huge breath and as I was going to open the side door to him, my son spewed with attitude, “What?! I said I was sorry! How many more times do I have to say it?” My desire to wrap him in my arms and hold him tight quickly turned into me wanting to ring his neck. So I didn’t do either and I told him to go in the house. With every step closer and into the house, more attitude came flooding out of him. It took all I could do to calmly tell him to go clean his room and do his chores and we will discuss the rest as a family instead of screaming back. More things were slammed and screams of how unfair I am were unleashed upon me. My cub was attacking me, like I would attack anyone coming at my cub.

I chose to not engage. I instead helped my daughter finish her history homework and wait for my husband to return home after his counseling appointment. We ended up having a blow out-ish yesterday, early afternoon, pre-lost child and coincidentally he had counseling last night (I do tomorrow). We calmly sat down as a family when he returned and all discussed boundaries and what is/isn’t acceptable. The fact that we were both calm and it appeared as a team discussion, seems like a no-brainer, but for me felt huge. My husband then sat at the head of the table and buried his head in is hands and then asked me to come talk in our room. As soon as the door was closed he wrapped me in his arms and hugged me as tight as he could. “I am on your team. I’m sorry if I have done or said anything to make you feel like I wasn’t. Small tears formed in the corners of his eyes and he said I would do anything for either of them and pointed to the room they were playing in. I would do anything for you.” The hugs continued.

Now for someone who looks in on this situation (and I have verbally been told by outsiders) it might look like an act. It might be a delusion he has told himself he needs to do and will then revert as soon as my guard is down. We sat and discussed that we need to learn how to communicate. That was a duh moment. But it felt as though my family started repairing itself. Today, I was so happy and relieved that I had a team-mate again, I told one of my best friends. I was met with doubt, “I give it three days. I need to stop talking to you because I have too many opinions.” Knowing the state of her marriage I wanted to fight back, but ya’ll, this bear is tired of fighting. I walked away and went back to my office, and started writing this. To try and make sense in my brain of WTF has happened in the last 24 hours. Anger, fighting, no resolution, lost child, feeling of peace and hope then this morning being met with doubt instead of “yay, that’s big for ya’ll”. That’s what I was kinda hoping for or expecting anyway. Not the case.

I get that I shouldn’t need “approval” or someone to agree with me that I’m making the right moves and someone else to see good in what happened last night. God was there. He was guiding us. I was thanking him as all of this was going down. To be met with doubt and disapproval, though was a terrible and hurtful feeling. My m.o. is always to attack when feeling attacked, but I calmly walked away. As I type though, I still feel hurt and disappointed that my friend wasn’t happy for me.

I’m going to try and focus on the bear hug I got last night, try to keep making steps forward and sing Eric Church’s song loud and proud, “I’m holdin’ my own”.