I bought my kiln about a year ago ... a few months before I found a wheel. To offset my pottery withdrawal, I played with glass for a bit; especially bottle slumping. Jasen poured vodka into a water bottle, tossed it in the freezer, and forgot about it. Apparently he did this so I could have the bottle.
Until last week. He packed a cooler for a day trip, and tossed in the water bottle, oblivious to the fact that it was, in fact, raspberry vodka. Cheap raspberry vodka.
"Mommy...taste this water, please. There's something wrong with it."
"It's water, Juni. I'm sure it's fine."
"Seriously, Mommy. Taste this. Please."
"Ugh! Okay. Hand me the bottle."
I take a swig, and immediately spew sticky raspberry vodka across the dashboard.
"What the Hell, Jasen? This is friggin vodka! Juni, are you okay buddy? Did you swallow it?"
"No, I spit it back in the bottle. My tongue burns dough."
"Awe, buddy, I'm sorry. Jasen ... I am NOT cleaning this dashboard. Your vodka, your mess."
"It's okay. Daddy ... alcohol is nasty. You shouldn't drink it. Mommy ... does vodka kill little boys?"
"No, Juni, it doesn't. It just burns your tongue."
"Whew. I fought I might get killed by it."
Fast forward to today. Juni is my little golf-a-holic, in his second clinic this summer. He gets into the car, it's almost 100 degrees out, and I hand him a bottled water. Apparently, it resembled the the vodka water bottle.
"Mommy, is this oka water?"
"Huh?"
"ODKA water...is this ODKA water?"
"What? Say it slower, Juni."
"VODKA. WATER. Is this VODKA WATER. You know, that nasty stuff Daddy drinks."
"No, Juni. It's not vodka water. You're cool, dude. I threw that out and made Daddy promise to keep his vodka water out of the freezer."
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
The Last Spring Calf
Remember the debacle that was last years' calfing? I pulled one out, the vet cut one out piece by piece...it was not good. We were afraid that one of our heifers was infertile because of the god-awful procedure, and that our bull just threw gigantic babies.
Saturday Jasen and I can home to see a boy (for some reason I've named him Norman. If you don't get the reference, watch more great movies). Anyway, I didn't name the heifer because I was sure we'd have to put her down. She is now known as... Bertha. Because that cow waited two years for her calf. And she won't leave the little tike's side. Or let anyone else near him. Including the other calves, who have now had their share of head butts strong enough to fling their feisty little butts 10 feet away from Norman.
There's just something so comforting about calves. They play, they curl up in the field, and they look like giant deer. The best part is when they're nursing ... foam dripping from their mouths, their mothers chewing their cud and falling asleep, and the calf's tail wagging like a pinwheel in delight.
Saturday Jasen and I can home to see a boy (for some reason I've named him Norman. If you don't get the reference, watch more great movies). Anyway, I didn't name the heifer because I was sure we'd have to put her down. She is now known as... Bertha. Because that cow waited two years for her calf. And she won't leave the little tike's side. Or let anyone else near him. Including the other calves, who have now had their share of head butts strong enough to fling their feisty little butts 10 feet away from Norman.
There's just something so comforting about calves. They play, they curl up in the field, and they look like giant deer. The best part is when they're nursing ... foam dripping from their mouths, their mothers chewing their cud and falling asleep, and the calf's tail wagging like a pinwheel in delight.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
What it Feels Like, Part 5
Bipolar. People make jokes. They think we're the crazies. And honestly, many people with bipolar disorder (manic depression) are crazy. They can become violent, psychotic, delusional, and a lot of us self-medicate with drugs or alcohol. This is not me.
There are a ton of different degrees of bipolar disorder. I'd say mine is pretty mild. I am in the most severe category, but within that designation, I'm on the mild side. I am Bipolar I (meaning that during a manic episode I am a danger to myself, others or my relationships.) This does not mean I'm violent. Yes, I have shaken Jasen with excitement, but that's pretty much it. I would drive too fast without realizing it. Spend a little too much money. But by far, I am a danger to my relationships. Basically, if I don't take my medications, my manic episodes change my personality to the point where my husband would leave. And I wouldn't blame him. If I don't take my medication, I loose my family. My life. So no matter what, I take that pill every single day. And I have people to watch for signs that I need a higher dose. This disease will not ruin my life. I am in charge. I can do this.
When I look back on my manias, they don't make sense. I don't remember the things I said or did. Okay, wait, I do, but that couldn't have been me, could it? When the switch goes off and I'm back in reality, I don't remember everything. It's called disassociation. An extreme version is blacking out. Mine is very mild. Confusing as hell, too.
So it's simple. I take the meds. Jasen will never forget the horrible manic episodes I put him through, but he has forgiven. I don't think I could do that. No matter how redneck he is, or how much dirt he brings into the house or how loud he snores, he stayed by my side, literally holding me every night until the medications started working. He told me he loved me. That he didn't understand my disorder, and didn't want to be the one for me to confide in, but that as long as I found someone to keep me in check (my therapist, psychiatrist, mom, sister and a few close friends), he would stay.
He knows my triggers. He gives me more attention, and only drinks on the weekends. My diagnosis has helped him become a better person, and our marriage is strong.
He went to my therapy sessions (they began at 2 times a week. Now I go about once a month). He still loves me. And that's a blessing.
Most people with bipolar disorder ruin their relationships, credit scores, and bodies before they are ever diagnosed, or because they don't take their medications.
I understand why taking the meds can be a bitch. Mood stabilizers (Lithium) cause weight gain. Some people have one emotion. And it's boring. So there's a reason they stop taking their pills.
The high from the mania is unreal. For me, taking my meds isn't a problem. I'm on a fairly low dose of an anti-seizure medication. It's not a mood stabilizer, so I still feel happy, excited, and shorts bursts of non-dangerous manias. I do experience pressure speech (loud, fast, very ADD), but Jasen tells me to calm down. And I do.
And by the way - the seizure med? For seizure patients they take 10 mg. I take 150. A manic episode is literally a seizure in your brain affecting your mood and personality. Think about a person during a seizure. They are completely unable to control their body. When I'm manic, I am completely unable to control my mind.
But I digress. The high is amazing. Indescribable.
Here are some of the non-dangerous manics I've experienced. First...I do NOT like to sew. Hate it, actually. Button fell off? disaster. Hate it. Yet a few years ago, I got it into my manic head that I wanted to make a quilt. Instead of one, I made 18. EIGHTEEN. In a month. The downside? Juni played on the floor by himself. A lot. The guilt from that makes me cry. Seriously. Tears down my cheeks at this very moment. He was about two. And for 30 days, I wasn't the mom I want to be. The house was a mess. And Jasen cooked dinner.
During my manias I had crazy energy. I didn't sleep. I felt like I could do anything. I'd make up these amazing business ventures, which I'm sure would be awesome, but really? In my normal state of mind I'd think of these ideas as way to large an undertaking.
I'd loose weight, because who needs to eat when you have so much energy? I've never taken any recreational drugs. But I would imagine that if you took the best-of-the-best and combined them, that would be a mania.
So there it is. The evil Bipolar Disorder. People joke about it all the time. And when they do it in front of me, I tell them I'm bipolar. I asked Jasen if he minded people knowing. He said he loves me for who I am. And so I tell people...my diagnosis is ... Bipolar I, non-psychotic, non-hospitalization, with a low level disassociation, ADD and severe panic disorder. Fun, fun times.
There are a ton of different degrees of bipolar disorder. I'd say mine is pretty mild. I am in the most severe category, but within that designation, I'm on the mild side. I am Bipolar I (meaning that during a manic episode I am a danger to myself, others or my relationships.) This does not mean I'm violent. Yes, I have shaken Jasen with excitement, but that's pretty much it. I would drive too fast without realizing it. Spend a little too much money. But by far, I am a danger to my relationships. Basically, if I don't take my medications, my manic episodes change my personality to the point where my husband would leave. And I wouldn't blame him. If I don't take my medication, I loose my family. My life. So no matter what, I take that pill every single day. And I have people to watch for signs that I need a higher dose. This disease will not ruin my life. I am in charge. I can do this.
When I look back on my manias, they don't make sense. I don't remember the things I said or did. Okay, wait, I do, but that couldn't have been me, could it? When the switch goes off and I'm back in reality, I don't remember everything. It's called disassociation. An extreme version is blacking out. Mine is very mild. Confusing as hell, too.
So it's simple. I take the meds. Jasen will never forget the horrible manic episodes I put him through, but he has forgiven. I don't think I could do that. No matter how redneck he is, or how much dirt he brings into the house or how loud he snores, he stayed by my side, literally holding me every night until the medications started working. He told me he loved me. That he didn't understand my disorder, and didn't want to be the one for me to confide in, but that as long as I found someone to keep me in check (my therapist, psychiatrist, mom, sister and a few close friends), he would stay.
He knows my triggers. He gives me more attention, and only drinks on the weekends. My diagnosis has helped him become a better person, and our marriage is strong.
He went to my therapy sessions (they began at 2 times a week. Now I go about once a month). He still loves me. And that's a blessing.
Most people with bipolar disorder ruin their relationships, credit scores, and bodies before they are ever diagnosed, or because they don't take their medications.
I understand why taking the meds can be a bitch. Mood stabilizers (Lithium) cause weight gain. Some people have one emotion. And it's boring. So there's a reason they stop taking their pills.
The high from the mania is unreal. For me, taking my meds isn't a problem. I'm on a fairly low dose of an anti-seizure medication. It's not a mood stabilizer, so I still feel happy, excited, and shorts bursts of non-dangerous manias. I do experience pressure speech (loud, fast, very ADD), but Jasen tells me to calm down. And I do.
And by the way - the seizure med? For seizure patients they take 10 mg. I take 150. A manic episode is literally a seizure in your brain affecting your mood and personality. Think about a person during a seizure. They are completely unable to control their body. When I'm manic, I am completely unable to control my mind.
But I digress. The high is amazing. Indescribable.
Here are some of the non-dangerous manics I've experienced. First...I do NOT like to sew. Hate it, actually. Button fell off? disaster. Hate it. Yet a few years ago, I got it into my manic head that I wanted to make a quilt. Instead of one, I made 18. EIGHTEEN. In a month. The downside? Juni played on the floor by himself. A lot. The guilt from that makes me cry. Seriously. Tears down my cheeks at this very moment. He was about two. And for 30 days, I wasn't the mom I want to be. The house was a mess. And Jasen cooked dinner.
During my manias I had crazy energy. I didn't sleep. I felt like I could do anything. I'd make up these amazing business ventures, which I'm sure would be awesome, but really? In my normal state of mind I'd think of these ideas as way to large an undertaking.
I'd loose weight, because who needs to eat when you have so much energy? I've never taken any recreational drugs. But I would imagine that if you took the best-of-the-best and combined them, that would be a mania.
So there it is. The evil Bipolar Disorder. People joke about it all the time. And when they do it in front of me, I tell them I'm bipolar. I asked Jasen if he minded people knowing. He said he loves me for who I am. And so I tell people...my diagnosis is ... Bipolar I, non-psychotic, non-hospitalization, with a low level disassociation, ADD and severe panic disorder. Fun, fun times.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)