Dreams are supposed to be good for you. Whether pleasant or nightmarish they serve a purpose or so we are told. Lately, and by lately I mean the past couple of days, I have been suffering dreams. They are not bloodthirsty demonish vampire zombie types, in fact I have no real memory of them other than they seem innocuous enough that there should be no untoward affect on me. Flying in the face of that reality is the lack of sleep and overall sense of unpleasantness currently plaguing my period of rest. While this time may not be late for much of the world for me this is the middle of the night. My Darling is long since sleeping as is usual but I am visiting my old haunting. This is my new three am. It's hard to believe I sleep as much as I have before now. This feels much more familiar. I don't much care for the familiar though.

My Niece wrote to me recently (via FB of course, no one under the age of forty sends letters) and I tried to explain to her why I left home when she was a little girl. I abandoned her just like her mother. I understand that she is not my child but for her I was what she had and I left. They wanted me to take both her and her brother. They being the State. I said no. In fact I tried to get my folks to let them go too, I was afraid that they would lose their retirement to raising my brothers kids. I was right and wrong. They did lose their retirement to raising the kids but I'm wondering if their longevity was due to being parents rather than grandparents. I just don't know. I do know that I was not parent material. I might have been able to put on a good show when I had to but I was falling apart around the edges. I didn't sleep for days and then drank myself to sleep out of sheer desperation. I didn't eat right or sleep right. The only thing I managed to do regularly and religiously was work. Every day, and many OT hours I worked. I went to school at the same time and got a lab degree. I did plays too, I moved through the world but I wasn't of the world. I hummed along on top of everything, buzzing along in full spun mania. This was where I was when they came to me and asked me to be a parent. Of course I said no. It looked strange to everyone, selfish. I had a house, good job, health benefits, I was stable and studious, I was also mad as a hatter, how that got by everyone is beyond me.

My Ex knew there was something wrong with me. It suited him just fine, I kept the balls up in the air meaning he didn't have to. I'm told I was fun to be around too. Others who knew me could see that I was different (not that I hadn't always been different). Some days more than others. Always outward. For a while, for a little while, I was bold, I did as I pleased. I felt larger than life, bold, powerful I owned my body and the space around it and everyone who met me knew it. I could do anything. I would try anything. Thoughts whizzing around my head with no one to talk to, no one interested in physics, brain function nervous systems and what was going in inside their own head. I wanted to know. Why was I feeling...

Euphoria
Extreme optimism
Inflated self-esteem
Poor judgment
Rapid speech
Racing thoughts
Aggressive behavior
Agitation or irritation
Increased physical activity

Increased drive to perform or achieve goals
Increased sex drive
Decreased need for sleep
Inability to concentrate
Careless or dangerous use of drugs or alcohol
Delusions or a break from reality (psychosis)

I find the last bit rather funny. When I landed in a doctors office in search of answers I was asked if I had any delusions. Correct me if I am wrong but the definition of a delusion is (oh hell, lets just pull up that definition shall we? Wikipedia anyone?

A false belief based on incorrect inference about external reality that is firmly sustained despite what almost everybody else believes and despite what constitutes incontrovertible and obvious proof or evidence to the contrary. The belief is not one ordinarily accepted by other members of the person's culture or subculture.

There are sub definitions of course as to what types of delusions exist and their forms. The one Problem I had is if it is in fact a delusion than how can I tell you it;s an delusion. If it's a real delusion I should view it as a fact.

So my belief that I have a fantastic voice and exceptional acting abilities may be truth or a delusion of grandeur. How would I know as I find myself accepted to prestigious vocal groups and leading roles. Yet I also feel as though I can feel the hum of the underworld, the subatomic support structure that strings all matter together. A giant mesh pushing and pulling this way and that as events and people affect the pattern. The ground beneath my feet is neither solid nor empty but both and neither. A wave of possibilities. I could see the motion, in the walls around me and the floor beneath my feet. I searched for how one can feel the possibilities with art. Not the formal crushing structure but childlike, hands to paint and paper. I plastered my rooms with insanity. I sketched my nights with my boyfriend waking surrounded by dozens of likenesses of him and me. This time seems rich compared to now.

I was officially Diagnosed as manic depressive, now known as BiPolar. I ran away from this and it got lots worse before I finally accepted the truth and treatment. I am medicated now, and I feel ordinary, no heightened sense of anything no feeling a value at all besides fulfilling my role of wife and mother and quite frankly falling short in the wife department and shooting in the dark as a Mom.

Now I drag words to paper, There is no connection to the world and sense I had severed by the medication that keeps me normal. I am the zombie of my dreams, grunting along in obscurity and wondering if there is still that lost world on the other side of the pharmacy. This is the number one cause of non-compliance in BP patients.

This is not to say I long for all the pain that attends the party I miss. I have a family, the one I couldn't have before, simply because I have the protection of pharmaceuticals, They allow me to clean house, wash dishes, wait tables and take care of my Baby Boy and My Darling. They allow me to shut down a sleepless night with impunity (most of the time).

I am no longer captive to the mania, nor do I soar above the world. Delusion or not, it's a wonderful feeling. Maybe I could have been a rock star, with a handler, or a billiard champion, or even an action star, but I would never have been a Mom.

I love being a Mom. I wish I could be more of a Mom, I wan to do it again, and that brings me more sorrow than I can stand sometimes. Month after month I cry, alone, in the bathroom, at my most vulnerable time, tears escaping even as I strain to hold them back, along with the emotions that generate them. I give up, I do, every moth I say it's not going to happen, prepping myself for the inevitable and then I cry all over again when the days are late and a tiny little voice whispers against my will "maybe". So few maybes left but maybe more than I can take. I don't want my Baby to think he isn't enough, he is so very incredible he fills me with a desire to gift him with someone to share his life with, family that will still be there if all goes well, after I am long gone. Who will remember stories that He had forgotten so he can enjoy more than what his own memories can hold onto. I am thankful for my brothers because they will help me to carry my parents to the next generation and perhaps beyond that. They will help hold them alive for us when they are no longer here.

I don't know where I am going with this, perhaps nowhere, rapid thoughts mini mania, baby delusions. No faith though. No one to curse nor to place my troubles upon. I don't believe in Karma or any other form of justice in the world, no plan, no reason just random acts, random gains and random losses, and random sleep disruptions, which will either pass or not forcing me to seek additional help because no matter how much "fun" it all seemed before I don't want delusions anymore. My feet must remained grounded on the wave/particles of this planet if I am going to be the Mom I couldn't have been for my niece and nephew all those years before. My Baby Boy deserves the best Mom I can be, he doesn't care about the rest and all I care about is My Darling and my son, My Family against all odds.

I wish you Peace

~alison~

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