Soular divine

The world appears in the blown glass of her eyes
Set squarely in her handsome face
Atop commanding cheekbones, calling for respect.
If you could tear your gaze from the depths of her soul,
Should you find yourself gorged on the intense wisdom from beyond,
you would be captivated by a mouth so full of character
you should wish to look upon no other with such curiousity.
And you won't.
It is said that the ownership of all wisdom is inborn, then
Lost with the shush of the lips by an angel,
leaving an earthly quest before us to recover ourselves.
Recently past heartache has worn a map on her forehead,
Heartache and worry and despair,
and though I cannot permanently Botox past deficit--
would I want to? For all occurrences serve a natural purpose--
I shan't add.
I hope to continue my journey with such a brilliant sun;
Basking in this warmth is a driving force.

Master or Slave?

Yesterday "morning" at 1:05a I started a 2.64 mile trek home in the thick of a 7.2" total snowfall-storm atop the dangerous ice and existing banks in 10 degree weather. A trip that takes 8 minutes by car took 64 minutes on black-sneakered foot with two scarves, a very old coat, and a backpack almost bursting with laptop and books. I'm glad I was wearing my "nice" jeans, not the pair with the accidentally-trendy, meaningful rips in the right knee and thigh. I didn't fall this time, thankfully, but I was followed by a pack of heckling "men" at the beginning, until I ducked into a back-road I'd taken the opposite journey on once. The passing cars slowing next to me was too frightening for a while; I preferred more difficult hiking through untouched snow to the heightened possibility of interaction. The wind ripping through the barren branches sounded eerily like the crunching of tires on fresh snow and prodded further mindfulness of my surroundings, yet I could not tell you the names of the streets though I tried to remember. I jammed my left hand into my coat pocket and my right into the lining for I still need to finish reconstructing the lost pocket; I'm expanding. My hands stayed remarkably warm and I hung up the display and false sense of security called my cell phone to keep them that way.

Why?

Geodon.

I'd forgotten the very medicine I contemplated in the last post at home. Forgetfulness is not uncommon in my world, yet this was irritating because this time I had been so careful to pack the usual three days' worth. I must have been interrupted en route to depositing them safely in the lining of my coat.

For 64 minutes, I paid very close attention in my head for an earth-shattering epiphany, but if your revelations occur as mine do you realize that was futile. They never come when they're called. Perhaps that's part of the wonder.

All those 64 minutes revealed to me was the question: Why? Why are you doing this? Simply, I wanted to sleep. The day had been draining, though life seems renewed and full of possibility in general right now, thanks to a few breaks. The day had been tough, though. Lying exhausted, painfully awake, experiencing withdrawal symptoms next to someone snoring fervently is my hell. Why not call someone for a ride? ...that's complicated. Trust me, it was better to walk. I've been walking a lot recently and am feeling the physical invincibility of youth, yet am reliant upon one small blue and while pill for something as simple and essential as sleep. I care hard and need to offset that energy expenditure with a reprieve every 18 hours or so.

So, really, there was no adrenaline-rush euphoria after an orgasmic insight born of this experience. Only the resounding question:

Are you Master or Slave?

However...I would like to acknowledge that this very drug may make my current success and ease of life possible. I may be questioning the drugs because I feel fine--because they're working. My "psychiatric nurse" warns that when one goes off of these drugs and has a relapse, the second round of drugs are not as effective.

Hmm.

The quickest post readysetgo

Hello, small world. I hope 2009 is the best year yet for you!

This is the quickest post before I disappear into a temporary land without a cell, cable, the internet...etc.

Here's the thing...

I just started doing some serious research about Geodon withdrawl ... and there are some scary stories out there. I wish I could conduct my own ESP survey at the speed of light and reach ALL Geodon-takers in the world and magically compute everyone's results ... because: what is the representation of online forums? Are patients generally happy with their results less likely to jump on a forum and sing praises? ...or what about those who are just satisfied. Probably not motivation enough to spread info. Realistically, we're dealing with people AT LARGE NOT ALTOGETHER who rely on prescription drugs to get through the day-to-day...or is that inaccurate?

What I'm finding, in sum, is generally scary crap about a lot of engineered chemicals that are now completely physically necessary for me to sleep. If not--if I don't take Geodon for one night--I experience severe withdrawal...insomnia, lightheadedness, chills, etc.

My dream (and I know it is not advisable and is in-line with other bipolar "delusions"):

One day... I will find a place in this world where I can first...detox. Flush all of these ultimately harmful chemicals from my system and then-- I know I can't return to American society. Not what I'm used to. I want to find a place in life where the going's a little...easier. Maybe that place only exists in my dreams... but, if that place doesn't exist here, I dream next of simply BEING, living, as chemically-free and organically as possible.

One day... I hope I don't end up with tardive.

The Vagina Monologues__baby's first set

I just reread my last post (before the one I posted a few seconds ago) and realized I said I'd maybe post some pictures of the set I poured my heart, soul, sweat, tears, (maybe a little blood...) into:

First, this is the draft. I said I was writing from the drafting studio. Well, here's what I was doing:

...technically, it's just a groundplan, but I used this final draft as a little of everything...

Here is the real thing. It may look as though it's on a slant... because it is! This type of stage is called a "rake" stage, and is basically one big wedge. Yes...that blue thing in the uterus is a blue Illinois. Dang straight, people. Best believe this show went up the Friday after elections... a gamble. But I knew it would turn out juuuussstttt fiiinnnneeee...

Yes. It is anatomically correct. Yes, it is a blueprint. Yes, it is twisted perspective. Yes, it fades to human as one nears the edges... I can't wait to get the official photos. Will post those upon request, as well.

Just a little more about me... Not sure how personal I want to get, but welcome to my world. At least a little bit. :)

PS-- I've decided upon my major finally. BA in Theater with an emphasis on set design/scenic art. So...maybe this justifies more time spent in the theater than with my books? ...starting next semester, my gen ed's will be mostly done, so I really will never leave the theater. Hmm. ...can't say I could be any happier. :)

Fuck sensibility in career choice. It's depressing, repressing, and you won't maximally benefit yourself, your health, or those around you-- no matter how noble the logical profession-- if you're not truly happy.

I know things will work out. They always do. And now I'm big enough, old enough, strong enough, and wise enough to make my own decisions...in the face of adversity. Even when that face takes the form of those I love and respect most.

xo

L a g g g g . . .

Thank you, S., for prompting me to write once again. :)

It is Sunday. Tomorrow begins the first day of the last week of classes for this horrid semester...which I hope explains part of the reason I've not been writing. The following week is finals. Auditions for the straight play for next semester are tomorrow, Tuesday, and Thursday...silly timing. It comes down to: I'm not auditioning because the time is too crazy-- I have too much to finish. I feel bad for those in the dep't who're studying abroad this semester...I think the timing will upset at least one of them a lot. Baahhh!

So, anyway. I finished gathering info for this psych paper I'm writing on the difference in cognition for those with bipolar. What I'm finding is a difference in memory... hm. More to follow when I finish it. I believe I'll be posting the paper (or at least some findings) Wednesday or Thursday...it's due Wednesday.

As far as my mental health amidst chaos, I can say this: a careful self-ration (I'm sure we've all heard of easy addiction) of Ambien has probably been my saving grace. I did some research about addiction and it scared me. I used it every night for about 2- 2 1/2 wks while I put up/painted my set and was afraid I might not be able to sleep without it. But, I am not addicted. Woo! A good friend of mine was telling me about a tea that serves the same purpose and I'll look that up/give it a try/report...hopefully there are more natural alternatives for sleep insurance. Sleep=sanity. For many...if not everyone. Remember that. It's the best advice I can give.

This winter, I swear there will be a launch of information. I found I can hook up to someone's wireless here @ my g-rents'...yesss. And so...let the blogging truly begin.

Until then: good luck for those of you closing up your semesters. And warm thoughts to all!

Talk soon. xo

Update from the Drafting Studio

Hello, friends. And sorry for the hiatus.

Thanks to Sarah Musick for the encouraging comment about my intentions with this blog. In the madness that is college and bills and work and relationships and and and...I've kind of put this on the back burner. Again, struggling with the idea that thoughts aren't good enough to publish.

Sorry there hasn't been a lot of research just yet. However! My short paper topic has been approved-- the difference in cognition for those with bipolar disorder! So, there's something to look forward to.

But, I'm designing the set for a production of The Vagina Monologues and am filling the role of scenic artist, as well-- a passion of mine. I never thought I'd be able to design a legitimate set...but this process has been amazing. I'm working with an incredible team and I believe it's beyond any student show I've experienced in my years at this school. Perhaps I'll post pictures of my work after it's finished?

Just a quick update. All the best! ...I'll update again soon.

Paying With Your Last Do$$ar: to experience this success:

"real quick"__i feel sick. physically ill. to my stomach. the space in the back of my throat is wide... like when singers are trying to produce a rounder sound... or like when you're about to heave. But my food is solidly sticking to the bottom of my stomach...magnetized... back in the throat, there's something heavy back there even though it's open. feels like crying might be a possibility... but i don't really feel it. or want it.

everything was fine until i stood up.

my balloon-head drifted gaily trailing a spun string and my eyes burned but wouldn't stay shut and i was clumsy... but i was floating. i felt legit high. except w/o the focus. tried to go over notes...skim them...no possible way. words that i would otherwise use daily are too big...so i climb up into bed and release myself into the sheets...allow them to coddle my strange body...

not feeling better.

not feeling tired.

continuing to "ruminate"__reference later...maybe a change in title...don't forget, self__ and think:

How dirty am i. How fucking dirty am i. I take these meds...and they force sleep. falling asleep this way is strange... like you're being lowered with gentle, even hands in a baby's bathtowel...you're nauseous. eyes burning, slowly getting heavier. thank. god. passed the am-i-sleepy? eye test. you could cry. sometimes you do. just let a little steam out. always a grab bag with that, though. sometimes you force the energy out and there are little tears. sometimes you want to release a little and uncontrollable sobs attend. how dirty am i.

take more meds to wake up. it takes literal hours to ease into functioning. hours. and then you never look like you're fully awake. your grandma asks you six hours after she saw you if you just got up from a nap... when you've been working on a paper. or trying. hard. ... nice. but you felt fine for a span. ... and now that span is waning...irritability with coherence...

early evening--functioning difficult-- nausea, chills, more irritability less coherence, exhaustion... take the meds to sleep... and there, my friends, we have come full circle.

For me. With Mania.

This is the cost of surviving college during midterms.