|Wordy, wannabe nerdy, mama & g'ma blogging about my journey of health, healing, and life at Human In Recovery on Wordpress.|
Happiness is as Happiness does: Musings from a Bipolar Brain
Happy is a feeling and feelings are fleeting. Happiness is a state of being and takes work.
The experience of Happiness is more challenging for some more than others and may seem impossible to achieve.
That’s because Happiness isn’t a goal or destination, but a byproduct, a side effect of the combination of our genetics, circumstances, beliefs, attitudes, and actions.
For many of us coming from lives filled with trauma and/or mental illness it will look different than it does for neurotypical people. We have to work through the trauma and confront ourselves to heal and grow. These are our prerequisites to Happiness.
There is ...
Tiny fingers pinching
Little feet climbing
Small hands clapping
Mini legs jumping
“I love you, my grandson”
“Ah luh ooh” in return
“Can I get a hug, my granddaughter?”
Followed by a bear hug of minute proportions.
“Kisses, littlelest one?”
She leans her forehead close
For want of a better life,
With less struggle and strife
I’m on a journey rife
With valleys and hills
For want of a better day
Present I work to stay
Needing courage I pray
That faith my soul fills
For want of a better me
That loved ones can see
Who I’m meant to be
As Divine love wills
WOW ~ Dangerous
The task, onerous,
Full of painfulness,
Bred thoughts, slanderous,
Leading to actions, traitorous,
Making her so very dangerous.
Rising above her circumstance,
She became victorious
Restless, stormy soul
Spirit of madness
He ran for the bus and barely made it. When he sat down and looked around, his eyes met hers. She smiled, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Hey, mister! XYZ,” she advised, looking pointedly at his lap.
Her mother, who’d been thoroughly engaged with the screen of her smart phone, looked up, eyes wild with mortification. She quickly placed her arm around the little girl’s shoulders, loudly whispering, “ Hush! Don’t be rude.” She paused and glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, noting his male beauty and embarrassment. “And, DON’T talk to strangers,” she admonished her child.
During this exchange, he glanced down, believing the zipper of his fly had slid down, ...
Outside of Time
Standing outside of time, I watch the world go by. Witnessing it all like a stop motion slideshow. I can see the storms coming and step into my little time bubble. I can be in the storm, see it’s awesome power, but never experiencing the sensations of urgency or danger, but, neither am I able to experience the feelings of relief and joy at having survived the storm and being reunited with loved ones.
Standing outside of time happens already, for many trauma survivors. It’s the dissociative state we’ve learned as a form of self-protection. It leaves us behind in our minds and emotions. It muffles the sound and fury of the storm. Yet, it also deafens us to the the song of reb...
Word of the week:
Being bipolar, depressed, and anxious, means feeling insane, sometimes acting the same. The thing is, you’re not crazy or lazy, you’re amazing!
You are neurodiverse, your brain is structured differently. You think differently, experience the world differently, and process those experiences differently. Your capacities, abilities, skills, and talents are different than those with neurotypical brains, not affected by chronic trauma.
That doesn’t make you bad or wrong and it doesn’t mean you have to change the things which make you, you, in order to conform.
Yes, medication may be useful, but, it isn’t a cure, because a cure isn’t needed. Think of it as the difference between “brea...
Upon awaking, all seemed well.
Until entering the kitchen, then I could tell.
The tension seemed to swell.
I heard his voice, clear as day,
with tone, forlorn, “I just want to stay.”
“What do you mean? What did you say?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say a word.”
He threw a quick prayer to the Lord
“How do I tell her, I’ve been transferred?”
“Transferred?!?!” I exclaimed.
Both our confusion reigned.
The atmosphere was strained.
He to me, “How did you know?”
Me to him, “When do you go?”
Our moods suddenly laid low.
“I heard you say it, loud and clear.”
I stated, with a little fear.
He stood, and started to come near.
He thought to himself, “This is surreal!”
“What?” I asked, my confus...
I sit here, authentically inauthentic, questioning my automatic resistance to the process of becoming my truest self.
I think it’s called, “being human.”
August Scrawls Day 9: authentic Day 10 automatic.
You captured my attention.
You stopped my heart.
You put my mind under arrest.
You consumed my emotions.
Then, you walked away, leaving the cage open.
Still, I remain your hostage.
Word Prompt: August Scrawls-“arrest”