Bipolar, but still Christian : Just Another Challege

My hosting skills are limited that is an unrefruited fact. But my door is always open to a person in need and I would welcome anyone anytime. I am self conscious about my caotic housekeeping skills, but I do the best I can. I can’t beat myself up about my weaknesses. It is part of the bipolar that would not translate to someone who doesn’t understand. I just get overwhelmed and shut down. So I do a little bit and try to do a little bit more. Totally not what this post is supposed to be about. I had a gathering planned and no one came. I know it is the time of the year when we women are slow to commit our without kids time. Here’s the thing. I was cheered up by a sweet little girl. She came into our house and loved me in five minutes. Ladies I don’t need you. I have my couple of friends and am truly loved by children and elderly. God is good. I don’t need to be anything else. “I am enough.” As Clonda Pierce said. Isn’t that wonderful. I know people who don’t have patience for little peo...

My head hurts and my mind is racing. Dealing with stuff I cannot put out there, but isn’t that the case often times. I say what I can on here, but in order to protect my family’s privacy keep it guarded. Dealing with the elderly every week now, it breaks my heart to see how much abuse and neglect goes on. People raise their kids and as they finally are in their prime, start to find themselves having trouble with day to day needs they always did themselves. Maybe they cannot afford a fancy retirement apartment, but cannot climb their stairs anymore either. How will they afford a stair lift? They have a walker, but the house isn’t handicap assessible. They can’t raise their arms to wash their hair in the shower. Thinking about my parents while I’m taking care of other people’s. Will they tell my brothers and I when they need help? Most don’t want to be a bother. A person with memory trouble is aware while being unaware. They know they can’t remember. It makes them vulnerable. They didn’t...

I think the upset is blown over for now. Although I know we cannot allow our feelings to turn us inside out, when you feel things more intensely; it is harder to ignore them. Again not an excuse just a fact. My husband tends to boil over easier than me. That doesn’t make him horrible or make that right. It makes him human just as my over active feelings do me. I have been praying about the other stuff and I guess the ripple of sweetness was teaching kids to read the Bible. How excited they were to see that they could read it themselves. Being surrounded by apathy so often, it was refreshing. I can’t talk to my friends about spiritual stuff. Tried it always ends with them feeling aquard and embarrassed. But wouldn’t we all be better off if we really were encouraging each other to pray and read our Bibles? I get to feeling like we are trapped in this pointless reality. Because if I don’t fill myself up with truth, my mind finds everything else.

Few of my friends understand life as a away from home person. I went away to college and fell for a boy from another state. I knew that most likely meant moving away forever. Strangely to most I was fine with that. I knew it was right. That didn’t make it easy. I moved to a place where I had no friends or family. I cried for months homesick and lonely. I finally started to connect and make friends and we had my in laws for family support. Then we moved again to a place with even less family. Although we did eventually connect and make friends, no family is sometimes hard. We don’t have the support here that most of our friends take for granted. You make the best of it and do what you can. It is hard to explain why I wanted this life. My parents have been divorced for more than 25 years now. When I lived home, I was expected to mediate their ridiculous disputes. My brothers who never talk to each other also some how our me in the middle of things. I felt it was my job to constantly fix ...

“And deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.” Sometimes it feels like I am on one of those electric walk ways they have at airports. I am just being dragged along as life whooshes by. It is all happening so fast and I am very aware that the unknown future is coming. I doubt everything, but in my heart always go back to Jesus. He is my only absolute. That God IS and did send Jesus for me. Yes, I can believe that. That he forgave everything I ever did and will not condemn me, I have to say, Yes,,, God said it so it IS so. Still scary to face a Holy, Perfect God. But if he promises deliverce from that then I guess I have to figure that one out. It is not easy to say that here, but I need to do that I can admit the struggle. Fear has always been my biggest. I hear little tap taps at night and think someone is coming in. I am jumpy I think because I have sensory issues. Anyway, too tired to finish. I am praying God gives me the answers I need to kn...

I decided this year to try taking an increased dose of medication for the dreary months of the year. Glad to report that I definitely noticed a difference. For the first time in several years these few months have not been especially discouraging for me. My son however has not been as fortunate. He is bored and stir crazy. I understand exactly how he feels. Winter is hard. I can’t begin to describe how relieved I am to NOT be depressed. Unfortunately, my son is so there is no escaping the winter blues completely. Hopefully, I can figure it a way to get him out more. I saw that dispondansy in my friend’s child today too. I only hope I can encourage and help her recognize the seriousness of the situation. A child in crisis is nothing to ignore. Certainly a little extra love is never wasted anyway. Just being there helps.

I found myself using this phrase rather trying to explain the conveluted mess that seems to be my family relationships with my parents and siblings. My mother is visiting and I am reminded that nothing is EVER her fault. No she is forever the victim of everything and everyone around her. My father on the other hand would say sarcastically, “Go ahead, Blame me. Everything is my fault.” Yet he somehow escapes responsibility for his bad choices. We are not at war. I am not carrrying around a bitterness bucket. Don’t get me wrong. I get we can’t change the past and we all make mistakes. I struggle with the not ever admitting doing anything wrong part. Put your seven year old girl in a room. Expect her to entertain herself and be quiet all the time. When that fails, she is just an uncontrollable child. Really? Are my parents that obtuse? I wasn’t badly behaved anywhere else, but at home. As a parent, I make mistakes ALL the time. Those are my fault. My responsibility! I think I am so defens...