I feel like I've already written about this, although perhaps it was prior to this writing challenge. Short term memory isn't always my strong suit.
There isn't much that embarrasses me, which doesn't give me a whole lot to confess. As anyone who knows me well or has read my blog for a while knows, I am very open about my life. Personal relationships stay personal, but that's about it. I attempt not to over-share, but am not always successful.
Hmm. Okay. Here goes my attempt at confessing things that don't bother me at all, but may bother others. Does that count? Hope so, because it's going to have to.
- Even if Fox hadn't gotten sick with cancer, I had no plans whatsoever to neuter him. He didn't have papers and wasn't show dog material even if he was; he absolutely had field potential and that is what he was bred for. Elhew through and through. I am an extremely responsible dog owner and he had very, very few undesirable behaviors that seem to be expected of intact male. I put the time and effort into training him, which included manners in the house, with my dogs, and with dogs in public. His only negative trait is that he was very dominant toward males dogs (especially intact males, for obvious reasons) visiting our house and if he was challenged he would initiate a fight. In public he had no interest in intact males or any other dogs. He was all about meeting people and getting as much attention & love as possible. Fox was a total love sponge. Also, balls don't bother me. Even when a dog has gigantic like his that probably made some human males feel unendowed. Not my problem, dudes.
- One time I spilled some cold coffee on Gatsby's head and never bothered to clean it up. Does this make me a terrible dog owner? It's not like you could see it on his solid liver head anyway.
I can't really think of anything else, so this will have to suffice.
Onto Day 12's topic!
Showing posts with label confessions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confessions. Show all posts
24 January 2014
21 January 2014
Blog Challenge Day 6: Embarrassment
Embarrassment. This topic is a challenging one for me; I am very open about many parts of my life and there isn't much that embarrasses me now or has embarrassed me in the past.
Hmm. I used to drink Boone's Farm and Arbor Mist when I first began drinking, but they are basically the booze equivalent of training wheels on a bicycle or a training bra on your adolescent boobs. They're more a right of passage than something to be properly ashamed of.
I rarely buy a jar of cookie butter from Trader Joe's because I'll eat the entire jar in less than 24 hours. Seriously, it has the texture of peanut butter and tastes like cinnamon sugar shortbread cookies! It's irresistible. The same goes for root veggie chips, but those have never survived longer than 2 hours from the time I brought them home.
Wait!! I have a good one. Sometimes I buy hazelnut or French vanilla flavoured coffee even though I'm a sincere epicurean and total coffee snob. Typically I will only purchase whole bean, single source, Fair Trade coffee. I prefer East African and Indonesian coffees; Ethiopian and Sumatran are my favourites. My coffee is stored in airtight containers, away from natural or artificial light. Every morning I freshly grind the beans and deposit them into my French press, sometimes with added cinnamon or allspice. I drink my coffee with unsweetened almond or coconut milk. I do not add sugar, honey, or any other sweetener. Yes, I'm pretty close to being a purist where coffee is concerned.
So there you have it: the deep shame of rarely buying flavoured coffee.
Does that count?
I highly recommend checking out my fellow blog challengers; they tackled this topic far better than I did.
Yvonne's Day 6 post
Dani's doubleplusgood Day 5 & 6 post
Hmm. I used to drink Boone's Farm and Arbor Mist when I first began drinking, but they are basically the booze equivalent of training wheels on a bicycle or a training bra on your adolescent boobs. They're more a right of passage than something to be properly ashamed of.
I rarely buy a jar of cookie butter from Trader Joe's because I'll eat the entire jar in less than 24 hours. Seriously, it has the texture of peanut butter and tastes like cinnamon sugar shortbread cookies! It's irresistible. The same goes for root veggie chips, but those have never survived longer than 2 hours from the time I brought them home.
Wait!! I have a good one. Sometimes I buy hazelnut or French vanilla flavoured coffee even though I'm a sincere epicurean and total coffee snob. Typically I will only purchase whole bean, single source, Fair Trade coffee. I prefer East African and Indonesian coffees; Ethiopian and Sumatran are my favourites. My coffee is stored in airtight containers, away from natural or artificial light. Every morning I freshly grind the beans and deposit them into my French press, sometimes with added cinnamon or allspice. I drink my coffee with unsweetened almond or coconut milk. I do not add sugar, honey, or any other sweetener. Yes, I'm pretty close to being a purist where coffee is concerned.
So there you have it: the deep shame of rarely buying flavoured coffee.
Does that count?
I highly recommend checking out my fellow blog challengers; they tackled this topic far better than I did.
Yvonne's Day 6 post
Dani's doubleplusgood Day 5 & 6 post
20 January 2014
Blog Challenge Day 5: Biggest Fear
Yes, I've been tardy with and fallen several days behind on this blog challenge. Which simply means that I need to make an effort to catch up and this is precisely what I am about to do.
Why have I fallen off the radar? To be quite frank, I have been having mixed episodes for days and have not felt up to dealing with the world, even writing something that others might read seemed too overwhelming. Mixed episodes are, in my experience, the worst part of having bipolar disorder. For me, over the past several days, my moods have run the gamut from waking up sad and physically fatigued (far beyond feeling "sleepy"), having sparks of what seemed like utter brilliance that fizzled out just as quickly as my focus was nonexistent and motivation also vanished as quickly as it had appeared. I between all of these were hours of depersonalization, which you can read about here. Of the five symptoms listed, I suffer from the bottom three.
Am I simply rambling, as I so often do? Not exactly. My illness is at the very root of my biggest fear, which isn't my phobia of chimpanzees (and most primates) as some people who know me may expect.
My biggest fear is that I will never be able to find, let alone hold onto, the thing I want most in this world. A husband and children. Having a family. Whatever my positive or exceptional qualities, they come with counterweights that may not always balance. I feel that expecting another person to have that level of patience and the never ending desire to understand is unfair and expecting far too much.
Although my medications are beyond invaluable to managing my illness and I have made consistent progress in my life (although apparently not quickly enough for some people) that does not mean I will never have episodes. It doesn't mean that my eccentricity with disappear (living alone for nearly a decade straight is fertile soil to grow eccentricity mental illness or no). Sometimes I will be impossible to fathom. It simply doesn't seem right to expect someone else to be prepared for any weather that may transpire.
With the exception of my dogs, I expect that I will always be alone.
This is my biggest fear.
For more Day 5 Blog Challenge posts click below:
Yvonne's Post
Danielle's Post for Day 5 and 6
Why have I fallen off the radar? To be quite frank, I have been having mixed episodes for days and have not felt up to dealing with the world, even writing something that others might read seemed too overwhelming. Mixed episodes are, in my experience, the worst part of having bipolar disorder. For me, over the past several days, my moods have run the gamut from waking up sad and physically fatigued (far beyond feeling "sleepy"), having sparks of what seemed like utter brilliance that fizzled out just as quickly as my focus was nonexistent and motivation also vanished as quickly as it had appeared. I between all of these were hours of depersonalization, which you can read about here. Of the five symptoms listed, I suffer from the bottom three.
Am I simply rambling, as I so often do? Not exactly. My illness is at the very root of my biggest fear, which isn't my phobia of chimpanzees (and most primates) as some people who know me may expect.
My biggest fear is that I will never be able to find, let alone hold onto, the thing I want most in this world. A husband and children. Having a family. Whatever my positive or exceptional qualities, they come with counterweights that may not always balance. I feel that expecting another person to have that level of patience and the never ending desire to understand is unfair and expecting far too much.
Although my medications are beyond invaluable to managing my illness and I have made consistent progress in my life (although apparently not quickly enough for some people) that does not mean I will never have episodes. It doesn't mean that my eccentricity with disappear (living alone for nearly a decade straight is fertile soil to grow eccentricity mental illness or no). Sometimes I will be impossible to fathom. It simply doesn't seem right to expect someone else to be prepared for any weather that may transpire.
With the exception of my dogs, I expect that I will always be alone.
This is my biggest fear.
For more Day 5 Blog Challenge posts click below:
Yvonne's Post
Danielle's Post for Day 5 and 6
10 January 2014
Complete Education
Yesterday I watched a superb TED Talk given by 13 year old Logan Laplante on the shortcomings of traditional education, the benefits of homeschooling/hack-schooling, the vital need to create more comprehensive, innovative methods of educating children and what he wants to be when he grows up.
The topics he spoke about really struck a nerve in me. As someone who, although highly educated, has very little traditional schooling beyond high school (other than a handful of unfinished college degrees in a variety of disciplines), I found his words both credible and inspiring.
My education, from childhood onward, has been almost entirely auto-didactic. I left high school after my sophomore year and earned my GED when I was 18. Even though I scored 68 (only 40 points were required to pass), my lack of formal education has been a source of embarrassment and shame throughout most of my adult life. Not holding a degree and having dropped out of college multiple times has given many people the impression that I'm uneducated and lack a desire to learn, even though I continue to read and study far in excess of most adults, who so often seem to think that education stops once you have a framed piece of paper.
Gradually I have become less ashamed of my lack of certification to prove that I know-what-I-know and Logan's enthusiastic pragmatism has pushed me even further along not only the path of self acceptance, but into the realm of actually being proud of my unique and unconventional education. I didn't complete classes or earn grades due to the requirements of the public school system or pressure from college professors and my parents. My love of learning is motivated by my insatiable curiosity and desire to understand the world around me and the wealth of knowledge that we are so fortunate to literally have at our fingertips.
You know what? I really am proud of myself and my accomplishments.
My education, from childhood onward, has been almost entirely auto-didactic. I left high school after my sophomore year and earned my GED when I was 18. Even though I scored 68 (only 40 points were required to pass), my lack of formal education has been a source of embarrassment and shame throughout most of my adult life. Not holding a degree and having dropped out of college multiple times has given many people the impression that I'm uneducated and lack a desire to learn, even though I continue to read and study far in excess of most adults, who so often seem to think that education stops once you have a framed piece of paper.
Gradually I have become less ashamed of my lack of certification to prove that I know-what-I-know and Logan's enthusiastic pragmatism has pushed me even further along not only the path of self acceptance, but into the realm of actually being proud of my unique and unconventional education. I didn't complete classes or earn grades due to the requirements of the public school system or pressure from college professors and my parents. My love of learning is motivated by my insatiable curiosity and desire to understand the world around me and the wealth of knowledge that we are so fortunate to literally have at our fingertips.
You know what? I really am proud of myself and my accomplishments.
09 October 2013
Not Just the Sky Diving Post
It's almost a quarter after one in the morning and I don't feel like composing my thoughts about skydiving. Basically it wasn't that fun. Not scary. The free fall was awful and seemed to last forever. Maybe it wouldn't have sucked if I had a full face helmet on like my tandem-pro. The parachute part wasn't bad, but let's face it. The middle of the desert doesn't have much in the way of picturesque landscape. It's mostly brown. With dots of scrub brush, cacti, & cholla. There are mountains. Which are mostly shades of brown.
I feel guilty, but I just didn't enjoy it. I'm proud of myself that I was able to jump (har har) that far outside my comfort zone.
The best part of sky diving? Weighing in! I'm down to 143. To put that into perspective I have lost 33 lbs. in the past year. WOOHOO!!
Okay, onto the extras. Time to reveal secrets.
I feel guilty, but I just didn't enjoy it. I'm proud of myself that I was able to jump (har har) that far outside my comfort zone.
The best part of sky diving? Weighing in! I'm down to 143. To put that into perspective I have lost 33 lbs. in the past year. WOOHOO!!
Okay, onto the extras. Time to reveal secrets.
- I like Taylor Swift
- I hate the colour red, but I own one item of red clothing because it's a blouse with tiny GSPs on it.
- I am blowing off two days in Chicago to meet a good friend, her dogs, and attend a field trial. Yup. That's how you rank, Chi-town! Let's face it: everything comes in second place when it comes to German shorthaired pointers and GSP friends.
- I don't skirts that are above the knee and only own skirts that hit just below the knee or a couple inches beyond (which is perfection). Call me a prude. I'm really not, but I guess I'm modest. Part of being a 30 old spinster?
- I fixed my garbage disposal tonight. Without gloves because apparently they have holes in them. Grody! But I fixed it, damnit.
- I secretly listen to pop music (like, recent stuff) when I am cleaning the house. I don't even know the names of most of the songs or "artists" except that I always recognize Taylor Swift. Did I mention that I like her? It's true; and not just because she's a spokesperson for KEDS (which I LOVE), although that gives her bonus points.
- I sometimes decorate my house for Christmas during months which are not December. Or even near December. It cheers me up. So who cares? (It's a good thing I live alone and the dogs don't care what I do or don't do.)
25 July 2013
Yes, I Am a Breedist Snob
Instead of precluding this post with wordy explanations and heartwarming true stories of the amazing compassion I have witnessed in the past three years I have been involved in dog rescue, I am going to make a few strong statements and give my reasons after the fact.
#1 - The next dog I get will be from a breeder.
#2 - I will never own a mixed breed dog.
#3 - The only breed I will ever own is the German shorthaired pointer.
#4 - I will never own a German shorthaired pointer whose tail is not docked and it must be docked to the proper length per breed standard.
Anyone outraged or at least deeply surprised yet?
The four declarations above may seem more unexpected in light of my involvement in animal welfare and dog rescue. Onto more bullet points!
- Yes, I volunteered two or three days a week in the isolation kennels (aka "sickbay") at my local animal control shelter for over a year. I am very familiar with the shelter system and the mind-boggling amount of animals that end up in these institutions. I know the staggering statistics of how many animals die in shelters each year.
- I began as a foster for an all-breed rescue and fostered 8 mutts (and one cross-breed, which is my GSP/Lab, Lola). I was actively involved with them for over a year.
- I have run a mostly purebred dog rescue for the past 19 months. I know there are plenty of purebred dogs in shelters, on Craigslist, or dumped.
- All three of my current dogs are rescues. Two are purebred, one is a cross-breed (which means she is the result of two purebred parents). They are all AWESOME.
So... why do I want a purebred docked tail German shorthaired pointer from a breeder as my next dog?
Well, firstly... my dogs are fairly young and barring a horrific accident it could be as long as ten years before I get another dog anyway. Someday I'd love to downsize to only two dogs, but at this point it's not happening. I love my three and they're not going anywhere.
I also want to get a bitch because I would like to participate in conformation (show) events. Have I done this before? Nope. But I can learn, will learn, and even if we don't do well it will be an experience for us both. Why a bitch? Honestly I prefer smaller, daintier females and large, above standard moose-like, big ol' males. The ideal combination of dogs for me would be a pretty, standard sized bitch from a breeder and a huge, masculine looking neutered male from a rescue. I really dislike bitchy looking males. (See? Told you I was a snob.)
What do I have against mixed breed dogs? Solely personal preference. I don't care much for little dogs, fluffy dogs, scruffy dogs, smushed face dogs, dogs lacking high intelligence, or boring, couch potato dogs. I'm glad other people do and that dogs with those attributes are able to find loving, permanent homes. They deserve to be loved and well cared for, but it's just not going to be my home. Sorry.
Why German shorthaired pointers? The simplest explanation I have other than "I LOVE THEM SO MUCH" is that they possess absolutely every quality I could ever want in a dog. They are extremely intelligent, adventurous, enthusiastic, friendly, outgoing, and very Type A. Everything they do, they do with a bold intensity and combine that with an affectionate, sweet, cuddly nature. Yes, they are lap dogs! They are regal and beautiful dogs, but are also goofy and totally hilarious. GSPs are without question high maintenance with regards to physical athleticism and mental acuity. They are a lot of work, but if you love the breed this is a worthwhile, fun interaction with a dog who is expertly tuned into you. GSPs are not for everyone and while most people have certain expectations from their dogs they are a breed that has high expectations of their owners as well.
You may be thinking, "well, okay... but you own an English pointer and clearly love him!" Yes, I adore Foxtrot. He's one interesting dog start to finish. But he's although he is the second Elhew I've has the pleasure of owning, he is also my last English pointer, Elhew or otherwise. (I can already hear a friend of mine bursting into tears of denial...) Why? To me they are a sunnier, happier, and less intense cousin of the GSP.
What's so bad about that? Nothing. Okay... not "nothing." This brings us to point #4. Two words: full tails. I could easily write a lengthy post on this topic alone. Suffice it to say that once you get whacked with one fifty times a day they tend lose their charm. I still consider them to be one of the best and most amazing breeds out there, but they just aren't the perfect fit for me.
Which brings us to my final point: while I do not approve of docking dogs' tails for cosmetic purposes such as merely meeting breed standard even though the dog is no longer used for it's original purpose or job, I absolutely support docking the tails of breeds who are still regularly used to hunt, herd, and otherwise fulfill the job they were bred to do. I fully admit that finding full tails annoying is a totally arbitrary position on my part; however, while I do not and will probably never hunt, I do plan on participating in AKC Hunt Tests and possibly Field Trials with my future dogs. Even with my current dogs, I would love to (and plan to) do this with Foxtrot and Gatsby once I am able to put a lot more work into training them. Although I do not have their papers, I can still get a Purebred Alternate Listing (PAL#) from the AKC which allows them to compete in companion and performance events such as obedience, hunt tests, rally, tracking, agility, etc.
In a nutshell I started out immersed in all-breed dog rescue with only rescue dogs and along the way became a enthusiastic purebred aficionado whose next dog will be a puppy from a reputable breeder.
So there you have it!
______________________________________________________
#2 - I will never own a mixed breed dog.
#3 - The only breed I will ever own is the German shorthaired pointer.
#4 - I will never own a German shorthaired pointer whose tail is not docked and it must be docked to the proper length per breed standard.
______________________________________________________
The four declarations above may seem more unexpected in light of my involvement in animal welfare and dog rescue. Onto more bullet points!
- Yes, I volunteered two or three days a week in the isolation kennels (aka "sickbay") at my local animal control shelter for over a year. I am very familiar with the shelter system and the mind-boggling amount of animals that end up in these institutions. I know the staggering statistics of how many animals die in shelters each year.
- I began as a foster for an all-breed rescue and fostered 8 mutts (and one cross-breed, which is my GSP/Lab, Lola). I was actively involved with them for over a year.
- I have run a mostly purebred dog rescue for the past 19 months. I know there are plenty of purebred dogs in shelters, on Craigslist, or dumped.
- All three of my current dogs are rescues. Two are purebred, one is a cross-breed (which means she is the result of two purebred parents). They are all AWESOME.
______________________________________________________
So... why do I want a purebred docked tail German shorthaired pointer from a breeder as my next dog?
Well, firstly... my dogs are fairly young and barring a horrific accident it could be as long as ten years before I get another dog anyway. Someday I'd love to downsize to only two dogs, but at this point it's not happening. I love my three and they're not going anywhere.
I also want to get a bitch because I would like to participate in conformation (show) events. Have I done this before? Nope. But I can learn, will learn, and even if we don't do well it will be an experience for us both. Why a bitch? Honestly I prefer smaller, daintier females and large, above standard moose-like, big ol' males. The ideal combination of dogs for me would be a pretty, standard sized bitch from a breeder and a huge, masculine looking neutered male from a rescue. I really dislike bitchy looking males. (See? Told you I was a snob.)
What do I have against mixed breed dogs? Solely personal preference. I don't care much for little dogs, fluffy dogs, scruffy dogs, smushed face dogs, dogs lacking high intelligence, or boring, couch potato dogs. I'm glad other people do and that dogs with those attributes are able to find loving, permanent homes. They deserve to be loved and well cared for, but it's just not going to be my home. Sorry.
Why German shorthaired pointers? The simplest explanation I have other than "I LOVE THEM SO MUCH" is that they possess absolutely every quality I could ever want in a dog. They are extremely intelligent, adventurous, enthusiastic, friendly, outgoing, and very Type A. Everything they do, they do with a bold intensity and combine that with an affectionate, sweet, cuddly nature. Yes, they are lap dogs! They are regal and beautiful dogs, but are also goofy and totally hilarious. GSPs are without question high maintenance with regards to physical athleticism and mental acuity. They are a lot of work, but if you love the breed this is a worthwhile, fun interaction with a dog who is expertly tuned into you. GSPs are not for everyone and while most people have certain expectations from their dogs they are a breed that has high expectations of their owners as well.
You may be thinking, "well, okay... but you own an English pointer and clearly love him!" Yes, I adore Foxtrot. He's one interesting dog start to finish. But he's although he is the second Elhew I've has the pleasure of owning, he is also my last English pointer, Elhew or otherwise. (I can already hear a friend of mine bursting into tears of denial...) Why? To me they are a sunnier, happier, and less intense cousin of the GSP.
What's so bad about that? Nothing. Okay... not "nothing." This brings us to point #4. Two words: full tails. I could easily write a lengthy post on this topic alone. Suffice it to say that once you get whacked with one fifty times a day they tend lose their charm. I still consider them to be one of the best and most amazing breeds out there, but they just aren't the perfect fit for me.
Which brings us to my final point: while I do not approve of docking dogs' tails for cosmetic purposes such as merely meeting breed standard even though the dog is no longer used for it's original purpose or job, I absolutely support docking the tails of breeds who are still regularly used to hunt, herd, and otherwise fulfill the job they were bred to do. I fully admit that finding full tails annoying is a totally arbitrary position on my part; however, while I do not and will probably never hunt, I do plan on participating in AKC Hunt Tests and possibly Field Trials with my future dogs. Even with my current dogs, I would love to (and plan to) do this with Foxtrot and Gatsby once I am able to put a lot more work into training them. Although I do not have their papers, I can still get a Purebred Alternate Listing (PAL#) from the AKC which allows them to compete in companion and performance events such as obedience, hunt tests, rally, tracking, agility, etc.
In a nutshell I started out immersed in all-breed dog rescue with only rescue dogs and along the way became a enthusiastic purebred aficionado whose next dog will be a puppy from a reputable breeder.
So there you have it!
10 July 2013
Ebb and Flow - Living with Bipolar Disorder
I find it incredibly amusing that I just "Liked" the Bipolar Disorder disease definition page on Facebook. Yes, I already posted a status update referencing the act on Facebook this morning. This post is a continuation of a topic that cannot be fully expressed in three sentences.
Do I really "Like" having Bipolar Disorder?
My answer may surprise you.
Overall, yes. If I could wake up tomorrow and choose whether or not to have Bipolar Disorder I would choose to keep my chronic illness.
That may sound "crazy," (haha!) but although it has made my life extremely challenging and often so overwhelming I can barely function, I don't think I would be "myself" without it. Yes, I'd love to do away with some of the more severe symptoms but not all of them are negative or debilitating.
I do associate my level of intelligence and creativity as being symptomatic of the disease (science tends to support this, as well). My brain processes and cross-references new information rapidly; this also manifests in rapid speech which often gets on the nerves of those around me (sorry about that). Sure, I also have had insomnia for over 15 years, chronic fatigue that accompanies depression, and the tendency to get irritated with a quickness (however, I also get over it and let it go of it just as speedily). Some days I can't pry myself out of bed and the very thought of having to talk to people in person, over the phone or text message, via email or Facebook causes almost paralyzing anxiety.
I've also avoided entering into serious relationships due to bad experiences such as being dumped as soon as I told my significant other that I have this disease because of "what might happen" or "what I might do" in the future. Being summarily discarded for such an excuse is discouraging no matter how unfounded it is. I've also been dumped or had people lose interest as soon as they discover that I'm bisexual as if that means I am incapable of monogamy or faithfulness... which couldn't be further from the truth. I am attracted to both men and women, but I don't require one of each as a life partner to have a happy, fulfilling life. Yes folks, I'm old-fashioned, monogamous, want to get married, and have children. This is probably not very surprising to anyone who knows me well.
(I do think it's an interesting fact that I am bipolar, bisexual, and ambidextrous. Does that mean something? Who knows. It's still amusing to ponder, though.)
Since I have talked about this as much as I feel like doing today, I would like to conclude with recommending the video below. If you haven't seen this interview with Stephen Fry talking about his *Bipolar Disorder, please take a few minutes to check it out. It is one of the best first-hand explanations I have come across that tries to express to people who do not have the illness what it actually feels like.
*Note: Bipolar Disorder and Manic Depression are the same thing.
Do I really "Like" having Bipolar Disorder?
My answer may surprise you.
Overall, yes. If I could wake up tomorrow and choose whether or not to have Bipolar Disorder I would choose to keep my chronic illness.
That may sound "crazy," (haha!) but although it has made my life extremely challenging and often so overwhelming I can barely function, I don't think I would be "myself" without it. Yes, I'd love to do away with some of the more severe symptoms but not all of them are negative or debilitating.
I do associate my level of intelligence and creativity as being symptomatic of the disease (science tends to support this, as well). My brain processes and cross-references new information rapidly; this also manifests in rapid speech which often gets on the nerves of those around me (sorry about that). Sure, I also have had insomnia for over 15 years, chronic fatigue that accompanies depression, and the tendency to get irritated with a quickness (however, I also get over it and let it go of it just as speedily). Some days I can't pry myself out of bed and the very thought of having to talk to people in person, over the phone or text message, via email or Facebook causes almost paralyzing anxiety.
I've also avoided entering into serious relationships due to bad experiences such as being dumped as soon as I told my significant other that I have this disease because of "what might happen" or "what I might do" in the future. Being summarily discarded for such an excuse is discouraging no matter how unfounded it is. I've also been dumped or had people lose interest as soon as they discover that I'm bisexual as if that means I am incapable of monogamy or faithfulness... which couldn't be further from the truth. I am attracted to both men and women, but I don't require one of each as a life partner to have a happy, fulfilling life. Yes folks, I'm old-fashioned, monogamous, want to get married, and have children. This is probably not very surprising to anyone who knows me well.
(I do think it's an interesting fact that I am bipolar, bisexual, and ambidextrous. Does that mean something? Who knows. It's still amusing to ponder, though.)
Since I have talked about this as much as I feel like doing today, I would like to conclude with recommending the video below. If you haven't seen this interview with Stephen Fry talking about his *Bipolar Disorder, please take a few minutes to check it out. It is one of the best first-hand explanations I have come across that tries to express to people who do not have the illness what it actually feels like.
*Note: Bipolar Disorder and Manic Depression are the same thing.
11 February 2013
Backsliding and Becoming Buried
Once again I have been neglecting both my blog and my constant inclination to write. To say my life has gone to the dogs is something of an understatement. We're rescued five more dogs since my last post and I think I might have shaved my legs once or possibly twice since then (honestly not sure about that).
My spare time is usually the several hours past "bedtime" that I'm unable to sleep and I spend it watching social/cultural/food-related documentaries or British mystery TV shows on Netflix. The former of which sends my mind churning and gives me plenty to write about, but by that time of the night I'm too unmotivated to do more than write out an outline that inevitably gets lost under pages of notes about dogs, potential fosters, shelter contact info, etc.
I've been cooking less or at least cooking less interesting things. Mostly peanut butter and raspberry preserve sandwiches (usually with sliced jalapenos in the mix) or some concoction of brown steamed rice with veggies, beans, etc. My home has also become almost unbearably cluttered, which doesn't help my mental state (which is already overwhelmed as it is).
The combined symptoms lead me to believe that I am:
A. Over-worked
and
B. Becoming depressed
My solution to that is to drink a lot of coffee today and start sorting things to donate & get rid of. That might sound like an odd place to start, but it's mentally refreshing for me to get rid of "stuff." Over the years I have become less and less a fan of "stuff." Having too much of it around actually annoys me, but I often don't have or don't make the time to get rid of it properly.
More later today about better and brighter things, but for now I need to get to work...
My spare time is usually the several hours past "bedtime" that I'm unable to sleep and I spend it watching social/cultural/food-related documentaries or British mystery TV shows on Netflix. The former of which sends my mind churning and gives me plenty to write about, but by that time of the night I'm too unmotivated to do more than write out an outline that inevitably gets lost under pages of notes about dogs, potential fosters, shelter contact info, etc.
I've been cooking less or at least cooking less interesting things. Mostly peanut butter and raspberry preserve sandwiches (usually with sliced jalapenos in the mix) or some concoction of brown steamed rice with veggies, beans, etc. My home has also become almost unbearably cluttered, which doesn't help my mental state (which is already overwhelmed as it is).
The combined symptoms lead me to believe that I am:
A. Over-worked
and
B. Becoming depressed
My solution to that is to drink a lot of coffee today and start sorting things to donate & get rid of. That might sound like an odd place to start, but it's mentally refreshing for me to get rid of "stuff." Over the years I have become less and less a fan of "stuff." Having too much of it around actually annoys me, but I often don't have or don't make the time to get rid of it properly.
More later today about better and brighter things, but for now I need to get to work...
13 November 2012
Not-So-Cool Running
To be frank: the past week (Week Five) of C25K was the absolute worst. I don't know if I've hit a sort of "running plateau" or if I'm progressing faster than my body can manage. Every day the times increased, which was without question a challenge. The first two days I completed the regimens (barely) and while I felt mentally happy to "finish" them, I felt physically awful and so sore that I've given up biking, walking the dogs, etc. because on running days I am too exhausted to do either and on rest days I am too sore to want to exert myself, knowing that I'll have a brutal run the following day and I want to be as ready/rested as possible.
I know part of my inability to finish the 20 minute run last weekend was because I didn't have enough fore-warning to use my inhaler in time, I felt rushed and didn't take the time to stretch beforehand, and it was MUCH colder than I'd anticipated. I ran the first ten agonizing minutes, then stopped to stretch for 3 minutes, walk for 1 minute, then run for another 6 before I started feeling dizzy and asthmatic.
Truthfully, I do hope that last week was just an exceptionally hard week (I was getting over a cold, at the time) and that this week I finally feel "good" running again. If not... I'm not sure that I want to risk injury but stubbornly pushing myself to finish the program (or at least finish it on time... stretching it out and using it as a guideline doesn't sound too awful). I know that if I choose to run less often and increase my times more slowly that R. will be deeply disappointed. I love running with her and I am so proud that we've come this far together, but at some point I have to balance the physical toll on my body with letting down one of my dearest friends.
I really, really hope that this week is a better one.
Today is only 8 min./5 min./8 min. with 3 min. rests in between. After Sunday's disappointing run, this sounds a lot more pleasant... I hope I'm right!
I know part of my inability to finish the 20 minute run last weekend was because I didn't have enough fore-warning to use my inhaler in time, I felt rushed and didn't take the time to stretch beforehand, and it was MUCH colder than I'd anticipated. I ran the first ten agonizing minutes, then stopped to stretch for 3 minutes, walk for 1 minute, then run for another 6 before I started feeling dizzy and asthmatic.
Truthfully, I do hope that last week was just an exceptionally hard week (I was getting over a cold, at the time) and that this week I finally feel "good" running again. If not... I'm not sure that I want to risk injury but stubbornly pushing myself to finish the program (or at least finish it on time... stretching it out and using it as a guideline doesn't sound too awful). I know that if I choose to run less often and increase my times more slowly that R. will be deeply disappointed. I love running with her and I am so proud that we've come this far together, but at some point I have to balance the physical toll on my body with letting down one of my dearest friends.
I really, really hope that this week is a better one.
Today is only 8 min./5 min./8 min. with 3 min. rests in between. After Sunday's disappointing run, this sounds a lot more pleasant... I hope I'm right!
01 November 2012
A Coming Out, of Sorts
Recently I have written about my diagnosis of exercise induced (and allergy aggravated) asthma, which I am still learning to manage in conjunction with my fitness journey.
However, the medical diagnosis which has most affected every facet of my life and which I have never spoken or written about publicly is Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder. I was first diagnosed around 15 years ago and struggled with it for many years afterward. I have been re-diagnosed twice since then, most recently by my current psychiatrist (whom I only told I had "depression" but who properly diagnosed me anyway).
It's taken years for me to feel comfortable enough to write about my experiences, past and present, and in what ways my coping (and often lack thereof) have shaped my life. I am currently on medication and along with meditation, healthy eating, avoiding excess of alcohol/caffeine (which I'm not always successful at...), and making exercise & physical fitness a priority, I am managing my Bipolar Disorder better than I ever have in my life.
Through my writing I hope to paint a different picture of what most people think of when they hear the words "Bipolar Disorder." I don't feel like the stigma associated with mental illness is as pervasive as it once was, but it still persists. I've been dumped by a boyfriend simply because I admitted to him that I have it; even though no incident had happened, he feared what "might happen" or what I "might do" someday. And that was enough to send him packing.
If you would like to read more about what Bipolar Disorder really entails and about the various types, please read NIMH's page. It's an excellent and detailed resource on the topic.
My name is Garnet Scarabin and I am a writer, a dog rescuer, an excellent cook, a vintage culture aficionado, a soon-to-be runner, a good friend, I hold down a good job, and I have Bipolar Disorder.
(I'm also lactose intolerant, but that's a lot less sensational.)
However, the medical diagnosis which has most affected every facet of my life and which I have never spoken or written about publicly is Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder. I was first diagnosed around 15 years ago and struggled with it for many years afterward. I have been re-diagnosed twice since then, most recently by my current psychiatrist (whom I only told I had "depression" but who properly diagnosed me anyway).
It's taken years for me to feel comfortable enough to write about my experiences, past and present, and in what ways my coping (and often lack thereof) have shaped my life. I am currently on medication and along with meditation, healthy eating, avoiding excess of alcohol/caffeine (which I'm not always successful at...), and making exercise & physical fitness a priority, I am managing my Bipolar Disorder better than I ever have in my life.
Through my writing I hope to paint a different picture of what most people think of when they hear the words "Bipolar Disorder." I don't feel like the stigma associated with mental illness is as pervasive as it once was, but it still persists. I've been dumped by a boyfriend simply because I admitted to him that I have it; even though no incident had happened, he feared what "might happen" or what I "might do" someday. And that was enough to send him packing.
If you would like to read more about what Bipolar Disorder really entails and about the various types, please read NIMH's page. It's an excellent and detailed resource on the topic.
My name is Garnet Scarabin and I am a writer, a dog rescuer, an excellent cook, a vintage culture aficionado, a soon-to-be runner, a good friend, I hold down a good job, and I have Bipolar Disorder.
(I'm also lactose intolerant, but that's a lot less sensational.)
16 October 2012
Running Melodrama
Completing Day Three and Week One felt like a justified reason for celebration... the hardest part of the journey was over, right? That's what I thought last Friday after running with R. downtown and enjoying amazing drinks & food at Elliott's afterward.
Saturday wasn't truly an "off day" since I clocked 3 miles walking (with Gatsby, to the Farmer's market and then home) and 3 more miles biking (downtown to meet R. & D. at Tucson Meet Yourself).
Sunday was hot (almost 90 F), sunny, and I really was not feeling it but R. bullied/charmed/convinced me to get my butt out of the house. I suggested bringing Lola Lulu with us since I had run with her in the past and that seemed to really help her fearful reactivity in public. The run started off with my shins aching and I felt pretty rusty. Lola was also not on her best walking behavior and I was getting tired a lot more quickly by trying to keep her focused and not underfoot. It wasn't the best workout we've had but I was finally starting to find my groove when a guy standing behind a car startled Lola, who bolted and ran across my path tripping me. I went down hard and landed on my right knee (which I had scraped open the night before after laying my bike down by taking the turn into my driveway too sharply). Ouch. Big time. We only had 30 more seconds of jogging to do, so after walking a block or so (and having rolled my capris up over my knees so they didn't rub on my wounds)... we finished our run, damnit! In fact, we ran an extra 30 seconds just to do it. Then we walked back to my house so I could clean and dress my knees.
Saturday wasn't truly an "off day" since I clocked 3 miles walking (with Gatsby, to the Farmer's market and then home) and 3 more miles biking (downtown to meet R. & D. at Tucson Meet Yourself).
Sunday was hot (almost 90 F), sunny, and I really was not feeling it but R. bullied/charmed/convinced me to get my butt out of the house. I suggested bringing Lola Lulu with us since I had run with her in the past and that seemed to really help her fearful reactivity in public. The run started off with my shins aching and I felt pretty rusty. Lola was also not on her best walking behavior and I was getting tired a lot more quickly by trying to keep her focused and not underfoot. It wasn't the best workout we've had but I was finally starting to find my groove when a guy standing behind a car startled Lola, who bolted and ran across my path tripping me. I went down hard and landed on my right knee (which I had scraped open the night before after laying my bike down by taking the turn into my driveway too sharply). Ouch. Big time. We only had 30 more seconds of jogging to do, so after walking a block or so (and having rolled my capris up over my knees so they didn't rub on my wounds)... we finished our run, damnit! In fact, we ran an extra 30 seconds just to do it. Then we walked back to my house so I could clean and dress my knees.
We agreed to take Monday off so my knee could heal a little, but R. did Day Two/Week Two by herself. Today I was horrifically hung over after an unplanned extended cocktail hour (with excellent live jazz) at Elliott's, so I chose not to run after work (even though the constant threat of vomiting had been replaced by a splitting headache). So again, R. did it without me and furthermore accused me of giving up. Which isn't remotely true. The real slap in the face was the bragging on Facebook that she'd completed Week Two (even though she didn't follow the C25K program and did it in all in three days with no rests).
I no longer feel like I have a partner on this journey and that really sucks.
There is a reason the program is designed to run one day then rest a day (even though on "off" days I still bike, walk the dogs, do yoga, etc. but the point is that I do different forms of exercise). Running everyday for three days straight then not running for 3 or 4 days doesn't work for me. Firstly, I inherited some less-than-ideal knees from my grandmother and am trying to strengthen them gradually so that I don't have the painful knee problems she has experienced later in life. I also had shin splints about 3 months ago and am not eager to repeat that any time soon. Thirdly, I think I may have had two post-run asthma attacks since we started. Day One I didn't think anything of it... I'm pretty out of shape, so a tight chest and shortness of breath was to be expected. However, it lasted for several hours and I was raspy & unable to take a full breath for the duration. I've never had asthma in the past, so I'm not sure what an asthma attack feels like, but the second time it happened after what felt like a fairly easy workout and again lasted for a few hours until I could breathe normally again. So yes, I am a "wuss" who would like to alternate running days with more low-impact, less strenuous exercise until I get a bit more fit (for the sake of my knees and shins) and get in to see a doctor about the painful chest tightening & inability to breath normally post-workout.
The real reason I feel angry is that I feel hurt that R. is doing it without me and completing the work outs faster than I am. I know it's not a competition, but I still feel left behind in the dust like a loser. She started a day before me to begin with and re-did Day One so that we could start C25K together.
My new sports watch (with stopwatch feature) will arrive on Thursday, but for tonight I have a downloaded stopwatch app on my not-so-smart-phone.
Now that my hangover has mostly worn off, I'm going to try taking Gatsby out with me to complete Day Two of Week Two. Wish us luck!
04 October 2012
Life?
I really have no idea what to title this post, so hopefully some idea forms by the time I finish writing it...
Today marks exactly three months until my 30th birthday.
Perhaps surprisingly, I am looking forward to this birthday far more than I traditionally would (I usually don't look forward to my birthday at all). To me, 30 is more than a three decade milestone or the end of my 20s (which weren't particularly peachy, for the most part). I've spent so many years moving around the country, going from major to major in college (never finishing any of my partial degrees), job to job, and always trying to "Start Over" or "Start Fresh." I think the fact that this was an almost compulsive reaction to any real or perceived failure illustrates the fact that I never did anything more than turn a page in the same chapter I was already in.
Moving to Tucson on a whim in June of 2010 was yet another attempt to begin a new life in a new and unfamiliar city. In some ways, I have repeated old patterns (such as not coping with my clinical depression, but that's another topic for another day) but looking back I also tried new things which although begun halfheartedly (and for the wrong reasons), have changed the entire course and fabric of my life. Yes, I know how vague that sounds. Allow me to elaborate.
One day, a couple of months after I moved to Tucson (knowing only one person and having a falling out with them shortly after I arrived), the loneliness of not having my two cats (they couldn't fly into Arizona in the summer due to temperature restrictions at the airports) became unbearable and I spent a few days scrolling through the "Pets" section on Craigslist. What started out as a search for "free kitten" ads (to fill the gap of my own cats) culminated in my calling the local shelter to inquire about adopting a red purebred Chow Chow (crazy, I know!!) named Sylvia. She had already been adopted. So I continued to read ads and noticed how so many of them were seeking foster homes for needy dogs. I grew up with both dogs and cats; the only reason I had never owned a dog as an adult was because I wanted the freedom to be able to move whenever/wherever I wanted to. Cats were easy and small to travel with; my cats have probably flown cross-country more times than most people. Feeling lonely and not used to living in a pet-less home combined with the "well fostering a dog is only temporary!" gave me the courage to respond to an ad.
Twenty minutes later the rescue group replied and the next afternoon I had a 6 month old German shepherd mix puppy named Ruby.
Fast forward two years and I've fostered over 20 dogs, adopted two, and started my own non-profit dog rescue dedicated to the breeds I fell in love with (namely, pointing breeds). A long-time apartment dweller, I now live in a small one bedroom house with a yard and room for my dogs to run & play. I've never been a very athletic person (in fact, I rather loathe exercise!), but now I am working out everyday with my friend R. and we're going to run a 5K in January! I own a bicycle and a pair of running shoes (two things I have never owned as an adult). I even use them sometimes. (ha)
I also use parentheses to an extreme degree. I don't apologize for it, either.
A quote that I always used to think about with some degree of irony is, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." (John Lennon)
I have always been someone who spent more time daydreaming about what I want my life to be like, who I want to become, and that type of farsightedness has prevented me from really understanding and even more importantly, appreciating, who I am right now.
I'm not the 30s or 40s housewife that I daydream about being... I'm not the owner of a bed & breakfast with a huge garden, who brews her own beer and keeps bees... I'm not an expatriate writer in the south of France or the mountains of Nepal. I'm not the slimmer, more fit, or more whatever person that I hope to become someday.
I'm a 29 year old woman with two amazing rescue dogs, a job with people I genuinely like, a small house that almost feels like a home, and I never have enough free time. I have the most amazingly supportive and wonderful group of friends, both near and far. And I'm training to run the first 5K of my life.
Maybe it's not grandiose, but it's good.
P.S. I still don't know what to title this post. Oh, well!
Today marks exactly three months until my 30th birthday.
Perhaps surprisingly, I am looking forward to this birthday far more than I traditionally would (I usually don't look forward to my birthday at all). To me, 30 is more than a three decade milestone or the end of my 20s (which weren't particularly peachy, for the most part). I've spent so many years moving around the country, going from major to major in college (never finishing any of my partial degrees), job to job, and always trying to "Start Over" or "Start Fresh." I think the fact that this was an almost compulsive reaction to any real or perceived failure illustrates the fact that I never did anything more than turn a page in the same chapter I was already in.
Moving to Tucson on a whim in June of 2010 was yet another attempt to begin a new life in a new and unfamiliar city. In some ways, I have repeated old patterns (such as not coping with my clinical depression, but that's another topic for another day) but looking back I also tried new things which although begun halfheartedly (and for the wrong reasons), have changed the entire course and fabric of my life. Yes, I know how vague that sounds. Allow me to elaborate.
One day, a couple of months after I moved to Tucson (knowing only one person and having a falling out with them shortly after I arrived), the loneliness of not having my two cats (they couldn't fly into Arizona in the summer due to temperature restrictions at the airports) became unbearable and I spent a few days scrolling through the "Pets" section on Craigslist. What started out as a search for "free kitten" ads (to fill the gap of my own cats) culminated in my calling the local shelter to inquire about adopting a red purebred Chow Chow (crazy, I know!!) named Sylvia. She had already been adopted. So I continued to read ads and noticed how so many of them were seeking foster homes for needy dogs. I grew up with both dogs and cats; the only reason I had never owned a dog as an adult was because I wanted the freedom to be able to move whenever/wherever I wanted to. Cats were easy and small to travel with; my cats have probably flown cross-country more times than most people. Feeling lonely and not used to living in a pet-less home combined with the "well fostering a dog is only temporary!" gave me the courage to respond to an ad.
Twenty minutes later the rescue group replied and the next afternoon I had a 6 month old German shepherd mix puppy named Ruby.
Fast forward two years and I've fostered over 20 dogs, adopted two, and started my own non-profit dog rescue dedicated to the breeds I fell in love with (namely, pointing breeds). A long-time apartment dweller, I now live in a small one bedroom house with a yard and room for my dogs to run & play. I've never been a very athletic person (in fact, I rather loathe exercise!), but now I am working out everyday with my friend R. and we're going to run a 5K in January! I own a bicycle and a pair of running shoes (two things I have never owned as an adult). I even use them sometimes. (ha)
I also use parentheses to an extreme degree. I don't apologize for it, either.
A quote that I always used to think about with some degree of irony is, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." (John Lennon)
I have always been someone who spent more time daydreaming about what I want my life to be like, who I want to become, and that type of farsightedness has prevented me from really understanding and even more importantly, appreciating, who I am right now.
I'm not the 30s or 40s housewife that I daydream about being... I'm not the owner of a bed & breakfast with a huge garden, who brews her own beer and keeps bees... I'm not an expatriate writer in the south of France or the mountains of Nepal. I'm not the slimmer, more fit, or more whatever person that I hope to become someday.
I'm a 29 year old woman with two amazing rescue dogs, a job with people I genuinely like, a small house that almost feels like a home, and I never have enough free time. I have the most amazingly supportive and wonderful group of friends, both near and far. And I'm training to run the first 5K of my life.
Maybe it's not grandiose, but it's good.
P.S. I still don't know what to title this post. Oh, well!
14 August 2012
Seepage
My work life has officially seeped into my "real" life: I am now seeing Grainger ads on the blogs I read.
Please Note: Most of the blogs I read are related to food, dogs, or vintage culture.
Sigh...
Please Note: Most of the blogs I read are related to food, dogs, or vintage culture.
Sigh...
25 July 2012
Freudian Slippage
I just typed "pants remover" instead of "paint remover" in the chemical inventory I'm doing at work. Oops... ;)
20 July 2012
Changes, Oh So Many Changes
I should be excited and hopeful, but I'm not. I'm moving into a new place, a bigger place (slightly), a nicer place (assuredly, once the ghastly red living room and bright yellow kitchen are painted over), and a closer-to-work place. One of my dearest friends will be moving in next door. Our dogs are friends. We work together. We are starting out with new homes, new romantic interests (not in each other), and all-around new-ness.
I should be happy, but I just don't feel it. I feel nervous, apprehensive, and scared. I feel sad and lost. I don't know what is going to happen next and I don't have enough wine in my house.
I feel a deep sense of loss that I was not expecting. I love my neighbourhood. I love living close to S. and R. This is a big change and I didn't expect it to happen so fast. Although I am finally feeling "settled in" at my job, it's still a "new" thing... there is so much in my life that is changing. It's a lot of change to process... and I don't think I've fully computed it all yet.
It's raining again and I'm out of wine.
I should be happy, but I just don't feel it. I feel nervous, apprehensive, and scared. I feel sad and lost. I don't know what is going to happen next and I don't have enough wine in my house.
I feel a deep sense of loss that I was not expecting. I love my neighbourhood. I love living close to S. and R. This is a big change and I didn't expect it to happen so fast. Although I am finally feeling "settled in" at my job, it's still a "new" thing... there is so much in my life that is changing. It's a lot of change to process... and I don't think I've fully computed it all yet.
It's raining again and I'm out of wine.
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