I almost quit

It has been one of those break down days. I was gonna quit my job. I am not. Going in tomorrow. Just need to vent a little as the melatonin kicks in. amazing to go from crying to having difficulty sleeping. Good night all.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.2

Today was a good day

Since my last blog post. I have been experiencing very blurry vision and extreme tiredness to the point where I could not make my 1 hour drive to work and called off friday and tuesday. Also hate to mention gained 10 pounds. Afraid the symptoms were as a result in a increase to my blood sugar I visited my primary doctor and he suggested cutting my pill in half until I see my doctor tuesday. So happy I went to go see him because my symptoms disappeared. Vision normal. Not tired. I do indeed think the worst is over. Hopefully I have stabilized and no more meds will be needed.
I am so thankful. This upcoming week is very significant for me. 7/4/05 I was beginning to unravel. I still remember the days events pretty clearly. My husband made homemade pizza with my daughter we enjoyed fireworks @ packard park. But things got worse as the days continued and on 7/10/05 I went to the emergency room and I was hospitalized for 5 days.
My birthday is 7/11 but honestly a diagnosis an answer to what was wrong the best birthday present I could have ever gotten.
If I had not paid attention to the symptoms that prompted a change in meds I may have spent another birthday in the hospital. Instead I am happy, smiling on the inside, enjoying the holiday, enjoying my daughter. Enjoyed a sleepover with a bunch of awesome girls. Went to a health food store with my daughter. Made a healthy lunch. Awesome.
Just knowing I am going to be okay makes me smile. Knowing that I have a doctor that listens to me, keeps any concern at bay because he has worked with me for years keeping me well. Enabling me to graduate college (something I attempted several times before my diagnosis) with honors. Get a
job. Now helping me keep that job by keeping me well.

Our partnership will allow me too move on to the next goals in my life -black belt. And my first mini goal for that is to practice running.

Well happy fourth!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.2

Why be silent now

Today was my third day back @ work. Hasn't been so bad.

It turned out I went to my doctor a week earlier than planned. I had to miss a departmental meeting, but my health, my sanity is much more important than that. My doctor put me on an additional medication. I was so nervous about the adjustment period and how it would affect work. I remember how long it took to get adjusted initially. I think back to my doctor's appointment smiling, I feel so much better now, but if I would not have gone and got the help I needed
I would be really bad right now. My thinking was getting confused. I was do Angry and sometimes felt like I was in a rage. If I would have ignored the warning signs it if very likely I would have had to go to they hospital.
My doctor had me take time off the medication laid me out. I ended up sleeping the majority of the day, oh it was so hard. I felt stripped of my job, my dignity, and my sanity but I made it through. I have been doing well. Well that's all for now.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.2

Can't climb Everest in a Day

Today there is a mountain. It begins at the foot of my bed. I look across the horizon and the mountain peak crests within the clouds, beyond my sight of vision. Either way I look there is this huge obstacle seemingly impassable. Logically, my brain beckons me to escape into the bed and hid within my covers. It would seem logical wouldn't it? If the task in front of you seems or feels impossible, avoid it. Except, I know the consequences of avoidance via sleep. It isn't a good idea in the slightest. It will affect me, my children, and my spouse. And realistically perhaps at first glance was skewed by the sun. Maybe the mountain isn't so steep or huge. Tentatively, I step on foot onto the floor, it's flat and smooth. Now I try my second. It is flat and smooth. I pick up the tools I need, and mark a distance in the mountain that seems passable, and begin climbing to my goal. I smile and think nobody said you could climb everest in a day.

These demons are doing Jumping Jacks

My yearly self evaluation is due, Tuesday. I hate doing this. Many people with bipolar have grandiose ideas about them self, not me, typically not. I am very critical. There are so many things going on at work that I just don't think is wise to divulge here.

I can say for the first time ever I am requesting work accommodations. Something that has become necessary but I don't want to do it. my supervisor signs it and will work with me. The human resource department, hopefully only the director will sign it, along with the CEO or COO or both. That's a lot of people knowing the intimate details of my life.

You know about two years ago I pursued a denial in social security disability because everyone is denied. My lawyer reviewed my case and told me that college and working has kept me well, and if I had been at home it would be necessary to pursue my claim. I left his office feeling good, knowing he was right.

I remember being at home not working or going to school, memories I don't want to repeat.

I was told one time when I was talking to my supervisor, about what I don't remember. But she asked me if I was going to be like so and so. Someone who abuses accommodations, if she has any.

That infuriated me!!! How dare she. Have I ever been one to take advantage of anything in my years of employment. And I am concerned about any accommodations I choose, that requesting them will change perceptions probably will!

Along with that issue my child has ADD and things aren't going smoothly between us. I am concerned she may have something more than ADD, Bipolar.

If she does, that is a whole other country (Forrest Gump). Another battle with my husband fought against her diagnosis of ADd for aprox a year. Will medication be necessary, will I choose to give it to her.

I feel so much anger right now! For everything, as I am sitting there talking to the doctor requesting documentation for my accommodation, trying to explain franchessca's issues. He tells me he wants to do something different with my medication - that's like a god damn m***** f******* death sentence. When I was experiencing tremors in my hand he convinced me that I should stay on the meds I am on. There is no secret formula for what drug works. Trial and error and extreme hell!!!!! If he is concerned and wants to do something different, Houston, there's a problem.

Almost 6 years until my first hospitalization. I could sit here and try to figure out what went wrong, what I did wrong, etc!!!! Buit it will do no good when it comes to struggling with this difficult time.

Changing my meds may lead to a lot of things and the absolute worst is what happened last time - zombie city. Slept tons, the sun hurt my eyes, blurry vision, I couldn't read, couldn't stay awake. Thank goodness that happened during the summer, and I was miraculously able to return to school, but I work now, and there is no summer vacation. I support my family, and if. If my PTO runs out and I am on FMLA it's unpaid. That is the worst scenario staring at it in the face, while it is terrifying and an extreme stress builder just needs to be recognized. Because while what I mentioned isn't fun, it ain't the end of the world, and damn it I will be okay. My appointment is not till june 14. I have to find a way to cope between now and then and relieve stress.

I got to get up and live my life and not let these fears hoLd me back from life. It is a holiday weekend. I am seeing family today going to a baby shower. I got two children here- one grown to spend my weekend with. I am going to make it a good one, exercise this bipolar demons. I am sick of their m***** f****** manic jumping jacks. They need to chariat and sit the f down, or better yet die!

Who's Super Woman - It Ain't Me

Feeling fizzled out. It's my lunch break now. I delayed taking a lunch break at noon my regular time, and soon it became too late to go out and get something to eat.Contributing to the fizzlement I am in.

I am frustrated about a circumstance at work. Let me tell you I am strarting to realize I generally get frustrated when I am not perfect. I want to do everything right. So not possible.

For the past couple of years I have been reading Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, off and on, and I just couldn't come up with a mission statement. I was able to list all of my goals, but a goal is not a mission statement. A mission statement is an anchor that steers you on a course to reach you goals. Finally I do have a mission statment- Progress Not Perfection.

I still want to be perfect.

Perfect Mother

Perfect Wife

Perfect Employee

Perfect Volunteer

Perfect Martial Artist

Not only that, I want to do everything perfect. Can't be done, but I still want to do it.

Right now and the rest of my work day, I am going to try and focus on my accomplishments. My laziness and stubborness cries out, oh don't do that, and if I listen, I know I won't feel any better.

Please humor me while I complete this task:

Career Woman

Mother of 10 year old, and soon to be 19 year old

Married for 17+ years

Orange Master in Tae Kwon Do, will test for Black Belt in 2012

Writer

Good Friend

Resourceful

Well Lunch is over and work beckons, and looking at my list I feel better

I Am Not Afraid...

I Am Not Afraid  by Eminem is my anthem. It is one song among many that gives me inspiration.

I am not afraid, or am I? But I am. I am truly afraid of failure.

Talking about Eminem I respect him, and his honesty. Everyday I question my decision on being so open about my life on this blog, and posting almost every entry for my Facebook friends to see. Then I think about Eminem and how public he is about his life and what rocks him to his very core. While I am sure it has gotten him flack for being so honest about his drug addiction, and many other things in life. If he can do it, why can't I?

One thing music does is inspire, and inspiration comes from music, books, movies, life. Eminem's honesty has inspired me to look at my life, and be not afraid. If he can conquer something like conquer a drug and alcohol condition, why can't I accomplish my goals.

Last year on my commute from work every time Eminem's song came on the radio I cranked it. I decided I wouldn't be afraid.

Not afraid to:

• Eat a healthy diet
• Lose 100 lbs
• Become a Black Belt
• Pursue my dreams

Writing this blog is pursuing my dreams. I am writer, and dammit writers need to write. Writing is cathartic it frees me,and sometimes provides perfect clarity. Writing help me sorts my thoughts. This is just one step towards my dream of writing and publishing my work.

 My point is ..... I am afraid.

 I need freedom, freedom to be me. Freedom to say what I need to say without apology.

I began this blog on the premise of no holding back. This is the Real Me.

You have no idea how many times  I have had those bipolar moments, and sometimes my first impulse is take something large and ram it into a tree, and the first thing that comes to mind is my car. Not because I am suicidal, but because I am sooo angry at the situation, whatever it is. Of course this choice isn't logical and hitting my spouse, boss, or child would just result in worse problems than what I have already.  I try to find another solution. Of course, I could resort to my old tactics of throwing items, but items break and I would have to clean them up, and I HATE to clean. 

So my first logical move is to explode on my Facebook status, but who really cares about that crap. While I still use facebook to vent a little I have decided I to use this forum. I do not have to tread lightly.

Remember I warned you if you don't want honesty and my straightforward real thoughts, whatever it may be that day. Don't read on. If you are offended it is your own fault.

So what am I really worried about, read on and I will tell you....

A very successful teacher marketing teacher telling me not to tell my boss about my disability. Only share this information if I came close to getting fired.

My husband telling me, even if my boss would wanted to fire me, they wouldn't because of my disability, and a chance of a lawsuit.

I am worried of one day losing my job, and my prospective employer doing a thorough job of researching me and finding this blog, and not hiring me, only because I have bipolar. And they would only know because I shared it willingly on this blog. My own undoing.

I want to be hired and fired because of my potential and level of ability not my disability and the potential for a lawsuit.

I am terrified of being considered a plague, that no one wants to employ. That is a hefty concern and perhaps a valid concern, but then I think of the following.

After being hired in with at internship, I shared my disability with my supervisors. I was welcomed with open arms and it was one of the best experiences I have ever had in my life.I was even asked to write a letter to the Mental Health Board, and I did.

I think about Bipolar Magazine. It's revealing stories about famous people with the disorder such as Carrie Fisher, and prime minister's wife, and why did they decide to share their story..... to help someone else... so someone else does not have to suffer in silence.

This is why  I do this,  first to help me, and second to show what bipolar is, educate,  and remove the stigma from mental illness.

I will reap whatever my honesty has sowed, and hopefully it will be the intent to help others, not hurt my relationships, or career.

So I make a solemn vow to notice the affects my honesty can have on my career, but not concentrate on it. Focus on being me and writing what comes to mind. Sharing from my  heart, and hopefully someone else, someone  going through a rough time, who doesn't think the bad times will ever end, will know it is going to be okay.

I want them, you to know, even tho you feel so alone, you  aren't.

 Even tho you feel like absolutely no one can understand what you are going through,  I do, I know. I struggle too.
And after every hard day, the sun always rises the next day. Bad times while they often last longer then a day, end, and the sun rises on the other side. There is always hope for another day, a brighter day.

I am not afraid.

Bipolar Ugliness

I am just so frustrated with myself right now....

After a fight with my daughter, I was reading the bipolar magazine online.  A story about bipolar in your family tree. You know thinking about in my family, thinking about who may have it, who has been diagnosed, if my daughter will ever be diagnosed.

And I am so irked with myself. I am trying so hard to be a good mom. To make sure my daughter does her homework.

Well see today just not a regular day. Today is one of the few days in the month when I can turn into Roseanne. If you ever watched the show, you will instantly know what I mean.

Today is one of those days that I hate. A day when I realize my disability, and I wish so much I wasn't like this.

I skipped my regular routine today. Halfway home from work, I convinced myself that I didn't feel well enough for kick boxing. I was excited at the fact that Franchessca and I could go home, and have some extra time alone. She would have time to complete her homework, and I could begin on my mounting to do list.

None of that happened. I been to feel  powerless when looking at all the homework my daughter was to complete. Some of it that should have actually already been started since she is not to take the second martial art class.

She has a project due Wednesday. Another project due next Monday. Two pages of math, Sentence Completion, and spelling words three times each.One top of that in her homework folder are unfinished papers, and homework that was to be turned in last Friday. My daughters getting lippy. I am saying I statements, but I am also getting increasingly angry. I threaten her with bed. I threaten her with a phone call with to her father. But I feel all so alone. My negative voice telling me her won't help me anyway.

I go into the kitchen to throw her old papers away. She follows me and  takes the papers out, and out them back into the trash. She takes them back out. It happens again and again, and I slap her.

Of course she isn't injured. I didn't make a mark. But you and I both know full well that words sometimes injure more than a slap. It was just when my hand hit her face. I realized I was out of control.

It has been an hour, and I just don't feel any better. The tears are still fresh on my face, and I feel like no one can help me. I wonder if I should take the three pills my doctor recommended.

He told me I was hypo-manic

"What will happen if I don't, " I asked.
Dr. Maiden responded, "People won't want to be around you. You could become depressed. You could become maniac, and develop risky behaviors"

Ah shucks.... I didn't care. I have never been promiscuous. Never spent money too unwisely ( but never really had any money in the first place), never done drugs, and I don't think I have ever been drunk."

Is this behavior, these thoughts, these tears, are the blows to my daughter's self-esteem, and mine a result of my noncompliance?

I don't know, but tonight I am taking three. I don't want to be like this, and I don't want to feel like this. Days like this I feel cursed for having Bipolar.

Mother's Day

My family just gave me their Mother's Day present. So Sweet

KJFallucco: PR and Marketing & My Writng Goals

I have a gift.... I am not being vain, or boastful, but one should know their talents, and I know I am a good writer. Essentially since I was in Junior High I wanted to write a book, and in High School I did begin to write a book.

Life went on, and I never did that much with it. And honestly I am afraid of rejection. But I am beginning to get over this fear. I want to write a mystery or a crime mystery, or a story like Wally Lamb has written ( all his books have made me cry in a good way, and left me thinking months and years later).

I want to write a memoir. I have had an interesting life, I would like to write just about my grandmother. I have just gotten to know her. I am learning about my father's side of my family, after he has died, and learning about so many things.

But my main goal right now is to begin my business. I even have a name
KJFallucco: PR & Marketing
I really really need to work on a Business Plan, it is the only thing holding me back. But for some reason I just haven't done.

After driving 2 hours to work, Tae Kwon Do, homeowrk, etc. I just don't wanna do it. I just have to find a way.  I need to generate more income, and I am sitting on a goldmine, me.

I just have to find a way to do it.

That's why I created my own  mission statement: Finally it took me two years
Progress Not Perfection

The Demon

Please enjoy this essay I wrote years ago.

The Demon

It is the end of the semester. I have been hanging on by a thread.  Several times I have contemplated how simple everyone’s life would be without me.  Every moment that passes is another chance that my emotions can be swirled and remixed from being sane, to deeply disturbed.  I am a swirled yogurt of cherry and vanilla.  The red sweet cherry symbolizing the pain swirled in with the regular plain part of me.  There has been a demon inside of me since childhood, a silent demon that has quietly preyed on my soul and sapped the life out of me.   Maybe it would be better to call it a virus or a thief because it has stolen countless years of my life.  Its personality is sneaky, hidden.

The realization of its existence began last spring when my doctor prescribed two small green pills. I trusted her; I drove home from the doctor’s office questioning my sanity, but I filled the prescription.  I went home and sat at the kitchen table, I read the medication information, and I took the first two pills.  The demon, the virus, the thief still wasn’t fully identified to me.  I wouldn’t unmask it for another twelve more months.

Even though the medication helps, it is a daily battle between getting out of bed, bathing, dressing, and leaving the house.  It would be easy to curl into a ball and entangle myself in my blankets, and sob myself to sleep, only to wake up groggy, desiring sweet sleep again.

At one of my check-ups my doctor asks me, “Are you depressed?”  I answered, “No. I am just angry, tired, impatient, and bored.”  Regardless, she referred me to a counselor. I began seeing, Marc Witte. At the time I didn’t think I was depressed. My husband and I were having extreme financial difficulties.  I thought it was just a rough patch, nothing more than just situational stress that would pass when the circumstances changed. I later realize that the demon, the thief, the virus’s name is depression.

According to McMan’s Depression and Bipolar Web‘s site.  Depression affects 19 million people. “Depression is a mood disorder characterized by a range of symptoms that may include feeling depressed most of the time, loss of pleasure, feeling of worthlessness, suicidal thoughts, as well as physical states that may affect eating and sleeping and other activities.”

According to the American Psychological Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual there are nine symptoms of major depression; five or more symptoms must be present over the same two-week period.

 Major depression must include including one of the following two symptoms

ü      Feeling depressed most of the day, nearly every day

ü      Markedly diminished pleasure

Other Symptoms of Depression

ü      Significant weight gain or loss

ü      Insomnia or hypersomnia

ü      Psychomotor agitation or retardation

ü      Fatigue or loss of energy

ü      Feelings of worthlessness or inappropriate guilt

ü      Diminished ability to think or concentrate

ü      Recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thinking, suicide attempts

 In fact I was depressed, and seeing Marc helped me realize this. I went to counsdeling for over six months, and soon I felt better, that was two years ago. This semester I am an honor student. I have two honor classes.  Two honor classes too many. The semester begins shakily. A few days before the semester begins; my husband starts a new job.  After a few days, he wants to quit.  He could make $100,000 a year if he just applied himself.

I feel anxious and I wonder how we will survive financially. My anxiety steam rolls out of control.  It’s happening again, I’m in speech class, I hear the students laughing, and I know they are laughing at me. I’m fat, ugly, and awkward.  My hair is wild, and my backpack is large. I can see outside of myself and hear people’s thoughts, thoughts that seep through their body language. I hate how they strangely glance at me. I feel awkward, awkward like a teenager.  . 

Where did my thick skin go? Last semester I felt wonderful. I had a 3.8 GPA.   I knew I could do anything my heart desired.  I visited my old counselor; I told him my doctor gave me Prozac, and I felt wonderful.  He said, “It isn’t the medication. It’s you, the medication helps, but you are applying what I taught you.”  I didn’t believe him, but now I believe him. 

When I was in the bathroom at school, I realized I was battling depression again.  I couldn’t stop crying. My advisor told me I should go home and rest.   I did.  I considered quitting school, but I have quit so many things in my life.  I refused.

Last semester I was doing so well, because I was applying the things Marc taught me, like the glass is half full instead of half empty.  I stopped sorting through my emotions, and I shoved them deep within a hollow part of my soul. Only to vomit them out at an inconvenient time, a time when I need to be sane, together, and getting good grades.

 I am so stressed out.  Marc told me that some people have a predisposition to depression and they never get to the point where they have “a significant amount of stress to trigger depression.” With others stress kicks off depression.   They “learn unhealthy thoughts,” or they learn inappropriate ways to handle stress, and they “move away from happiness.”

Marc was talking about me; stress allowed my depression to break through, but going to counseling taught me many coping mechanisms. At one time, I was an emotional jellyfish.  I thought my emotions controlled me.  I learned that no one makes me feel anything. I choose to be happy, sad, or angry.  At the time I didn’t understand.  How could I choose to feel happy, sad, or angry?  Doesn’t it happen automatically?

Sigmund Freud believed that our emotions governed or controlled our thoughts; but Marc believes that it is our thoughts that control our emotions. If we think healthy thoughts, we will have healthy emotions.  He taught me how to slow down my emotional reaction with ABCDE, a concept taught by Albert Ellis.

• Antecedent
• Belief
• Consequence
• Dispute
• Evaluate

                     ABCDE helps me to sort out my thoughts. When I am feeling overwhelmed, I take time to think about the situation.  What led up to these feelings (antecedent)?  What is my belief about the situation?

In counseling I learned an irrational belief such as no one emailed me today, so no one loves me, can cause the consequence, or feeling to be pessimistic. If I am feeling overwhelmed, I should reexamine (or dispute) my belief.  Is there is a healthier belief that will reframe my emotions? If so the last step is to evaluate my emotions, and clearly establish a new belief.

Now I know depression lived inside of me for a long time, plaguing me. I didn’t even know of its existence in me.  I don’t know when it began. Did it begin when I was two and my parents divorced?  Was it a few months later when my father allowed another man to adopt me (My name changed from Kara Joy Perkins to Kara Joy Emplit.)?   Did it begin in third grade, during my mother’s second divorce?  Was it when we discovered my brother’s brain cancer, or did it happen a year later when he was hit by a car? Did it begin when my forty-year-old father married and eighteen-year-old, or was it when I waved goodbye to my father and his new family as they left for Florida? Did it begin as a teenager when I realized I was utterly alone, and wrote my first poem – a suicide poem?

It could have been any of these circumstances, but I think it was the day my father (my mother’s second husband) told me they were getting a divorce.  I was in the basement; my father’s part of the house.  We were watching Knight Rider.  I can see my father’s beautiful face, his perfectly groomed mustache and beard, and his shiny black hair.  He is leaning towards me as he talks.  I understand what he is saying, but all I can see is an image of a heart being jaggedly cut into two.  It is my heart, and it was being split between my mother and my father.

The months following weren’t much easier.  My father moved us to Florida; my four siblings and I moved into my grandparent’s trailer.  My father wouldn’t allow us to talk to our mother. We were there for several months; without seeing or speaking to her.  I remember taking the bus to school, fighting back tears. One time I sobbed loudly and without restraint in front of the children in my class.

One humid night my mother and her boyfriend drove from Ohio to get us.  Since that humid night a black cloud surrounded the years that followed, a black cloud that hovered and followed me.  My body worked without me, walking, talking, eating, sleeping; was all done on its own.  I just existed within its shell.

I remember being a high school student, during lunch I would sit with my head down.  My only escape was writing about the circumstances surrounding me. My senior year in high school, I took the SAT.  I didn’t read the questions; I just filled in bubbles. Because of my poor SAT scores, my freshmen year at Kent State University, I had to take college prep classes in college.  In college, I lived with four roommates on campus. We didn’t get along. My sophomore year I lived in a single dorm room.  It wasn’t a good choice. I ended up being invisible.  I didn’t even know my next door neighbors name.  I couldn’t wake up for my classes, and I was terribly tired and irritable.

 That was thirteen years ago. Now, I am sitting in the boardroom that Marc and I sat in during counseling.  My daughter is playing with her toys. Marc and I are talking about the faulty core beliefs you have when you are depressed.

During my visit, Marc told me that if you are feeling depressed “you should try the least restrictive approach first,” which is counseling, or therapy.  He said that counseling is not a long-term thing.  He usually sees clients for a short period until they are able to “see their therapist in them.”  They don’t have to travel to him, they can just look inside.

If after counseling you are still feeling depressed, you should consider medication. “Medication makes the brain normal but it doesn’t ensure happiness.”

 And if after counseling you need a “booster shot” its ok to see your counselor and take a refresher course.

I tell him I found my core faulty belief, it was that I was not worthy of anyone’s love. My father, Gary rejected me, so I thought there was something wrong with me. Now I realize that my father never took the chance to get to know me, how could I have been the cause of him abandoning me? If my father doesn’t want me, a wonderful woman, as his daughter, it is his loss.

Since that conversation with Marc, I have found more faulty core beliefs. Daily I fight these beliefs.  Beliefs that I shouldn’t bother asking for help because I don’t deserve it.  I am worth nothing, so I should suffer alone.  Everyone’s life would be much simpler, if I didn’t exist. I am a failure, because I have failed at everything I have tried, and I will continue to fail.  So I should stop trying, and just quit.  I feel like my existence is futile and unnecessary. I am just a nuisance to everyone I encounter. 

These thoughts are a constant daily battle.  Deep down, I know that I am loved.  I have a wonderful husband, beautiful children, and sincere friends.  I am not a failure. After tomorrow, this semester will be finished, and I didn’t quit.  True, I still have some unfinished coursework, but I didn’t quit. I have to realize that it is truly amazing that I am even a college student, let alone an honor student, getting A’s and B’s.

 My existence isn’t futile. There will be people who dislike me and think I am nuisance, but their opinion does not govern who I am. My opinion governs who I am. If I choose to see the cup as half empty, it will be half empty.

My life is full of people who love me. When I think about how easy it would be to disappear, not just from my home and marriage, or from college; but how easy it would be to disappear from life. I think about my daughter. Every time I look at her, I know that she loves me, she wants me, and she needs me.  Where would she be if I cease.

Thank you Franchessca for getting me through those hard times (April 16, 2011)

Marc Witte: An Unsung Hero, It's National Mental Health Counselor Month

Well, who is Marc Witte?

An awesome mental health professional

I could say tons and tons and tons about Marc and how awesome he is, but I know exactly how he would reply if I was to give him accolades. He would turn it around to me. You see wellness is a choice. You can choose to be whatever you want to be, and I am talking about emotions too. Absolutely no one has control of your body, not even your mind.

What I just said, he taught me. I was born an emotional jellyfish. Always, always, always crying, and I thought there was no hope for me no purpose, why bother being positive like my mother begged me. Nothing is positive, nothing is good everything sucks. There is absolutely no way I keep from feeling the way I feel, and he hurt my feelings, or she made me mad.

So glad to have empowerment.

A Precious Gem he taught me:
Medication, while sometimes necessary, does not make you well. You determine your own wellness. It is like an equation 60% percent you a practicing good mental health, 40% medication. What he truly felt was that it was 80% me, 20% medication, but I always opted for giving my medicine more credit.

But you know what, he's right. I wouldn't be doing so well if it wasn't for me working at it. Sure I can take my nightly medication and quietly chant to myself work, work, work. Lay down for the night, and not get up in the morning, and when I get up stay in my pajamas. And if I get out of my pajamas don't take a shower.

Or get up lay on the couch all day, watch tv or sit on the computer all day, eat nothing but junk, ignore my daughter, refuse to help her with her homework.

But no I am out of bed most days at 5:30 am draaaaggggging! Some days don't wanna move. My mind and my body will itself back to bed. But if you didn't already know, I am a fighter. I may get knocked down, but I will get up, and I will not quit. I get in that car, drive one hour to work, and some days I still feel like shit, but I work anyway.

The majority of my days are good, but when I have a hard day. I have a HARD day!

You think I am talking about myself, nah, if it wasn't for walking into his office July 11, about seven years ago. I don't know where I would be today. I have an idea. I wouldn't have finished college. I would be sitting in my home with my daughter, cleaning the fricken house all day. (Sorry she was a toddler then and it was just me and her all day. Props to all the Stay At Home Moms. It is the hardest job one could ever expect to do. )

I wouldn't have a job, not even a minimum wage one. I convinced myself after being fired twice that I was not fit keep a job, and I was destined for failure.

See it's people like Marc that keep the world going round. Keeps my world going round.

I love him, and when I hear him talk about his children and grandchildren. I wish he could adopt me. You can say all kinds of negative things, like you have to pay someone to love you and care about you. No not exactly, I had to pay someone to teach me to love me. And that is worth all the money in the world. You can't say nothing worse than anything I have  ever said to myself.

There are times this year. I have left his office balling. And I want to stay so bad, but when my time is up, it's up. Times like when I leave crying, and he wonders if he even helped me at all. I promise you he has. it is all about choices. My choice to take that last tissue and compose myself. When I need to cry cry. Give my pain a little hug, recognize the difficulty I am going though, but let that pain go. Let that problem go.

Have you ever observed storm clouds churning into a storm? The clouds build and mix and build into an angry mass of rage and turmoil. That was me. Revisiting something over and over again, mixing it up, churning it together, building myself into a ball of rage, pain, and turmoil.

But I don't have to live this way...... Nope.... I know how to settle my storm because Marc Witte gave me the  tools.

8 hours of sleep per night
No naps during the day
Exercise at least 5 times a week for 45 minutes
Eat Three healthy meals
Follow a routine

Common Sense Huh? Whatever it is ... it's a foundation to wellness.

He has taught me coping skills, social skills, told me simple things that just stick with me.

Once he told me that he only knew so much, and if I came to see him enough he would begin to repeat himself, and the purpose of therapy was for me to find my counselor inside of me. When I have a problem I just can't take or cope listen because inside I can find the answer.

He showed me the importance of friends and that I will have more success if my circle of support extends outside from my immediate family, that having a relationship with my siblings and parents, while I may find it stressful it is beneficial to my health. To reach out and repair that relationship that I think is too much trouble, will benefit me in the long run. And when there comes a time when I need to talk to someone i will have a friend, and they will have me if they need a friend.

He taught me one of the simplest things, but one of the most divine in my book. How to make and keep friends. I don't have to dump on someone all my problems. I share something small, and maybe they share something too. I can share a little more, and perhaps they will too. The ideal way to respect boundaries.

He has taught me soooo much, and helped me help myself in ways I can't even verbalize. I just hope to put it into practice more.

He has empowered me to be a healthy functional adult because Bipolar is not a death sentence, just a diagnosis. Please do not become a casualty of mental illness. Keep searching for a solution there is one.

1800-273-Talk Suicide Hotline

http://www.lifeline-gallery.org/?pid=38612286

Kara signing off.

I like making friends. Friends are important. I like being a friend. I like helping out.

This probably sounds so like nate the first grader but I am trying to state a point. Friends are important everyone of them.

I am frustrated right now because I have made some friends recently and things haven't been all smooth sailing between us.

There is a song that oftens comes to my mind. I'm a b***h. I'm a lover. I'm a child. I'm a mother.

And I am all of these. I can be a b***h. But it is never intentionally. I believe in certain principles. And if I believe in something strongly. I will stand up for what I believe.

I think right now I am coming across as a b****h.

I got married at 19 I had to learn to fight for what I felt strongly about. My husband is not an unreasonable man, but some ideas I have had he has just thought they were a waste of time. I proved him wrong time and again. I pursued a certificate in nonprofit and he thought it was a waste of time and it took me away from my family unnecessarily. But you know what I work at a nonprofit and have for over two years.

You know the godfather's famous line. It isn't personal. Its just business.

Right now I am fighting for something I believe in and its just business. It isn't personal. Not fighting with fists but just standiing up for what I believe. Doesn't matter what it is. Make it whatever you think it is.

And this is what is happening between a friend and I something that's business is spilling over into my personal life and I think it will affect a friendship.

I wanna work together and hold hands and sing kumbayah. I wanna compromise, but there are just some issues I will not compromise on.

Maybe I am the problem. I don't know. But I don't know how not to be so involved.

Let's toast to friends, drama, meditation, relaxation and coming to a solution. You gotta take the good with the bad. And let's hope for unity. It is really what I want. But maybe its time to remove my rose colored glasses, but I like them so much


Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Fw: there are some personal things in...

------ SMS Text ------
To: 256447
Sent: Apr 12, 2011 11:30 PM
Subject: there are some personal things in...
there are some personal things in my life I really want to share. And what I want to say will help other people because many do not have the courage to talk about sensitive issues. But if I keep silent ..... And I mean if I keep silent about mental illness my mental illness how is that gonna help anyone? How is that going to bust stigmas and misconceptions? It won't. So hear it comes the real me. No holding back. I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 in 2005 and since then I graduated college with honors. Got my first 4.0 ever. Got a job three months out of college. Still have that job. Bipolar is just a diagnosis not a death sentence. The real me signing off. Gotta sleep real important for those with bipolar
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Self Esteem - Narrated by Jennifer Lopez

Dove - Real Esteem

Let's help Girls Believe in Themselves

The Real Me: My new Blog

This is me. I don't really know how else to say it.

Well who am I? I am a passionate person. Sometimes I have I little problem identifying boundaries. Or divulging too much. Hence the title of my blog -The Real Me: No Holding Back

I am sort of like an overflowing cup. Sometimes my cup overflows with glorious beautiful bubbles. Other times it's loud popping bubbles of rage. Or sometimes I just fizzle out or get all mixed up.

If you want the real me, if you want honesty, frankness, raw emotions, and thoughts read my blog. It will be well worth your while.

My Passion

Girl Scouting, what is it really all about? It is about building girls of courage confidence, and character. But what does those words really mean?

Courage enables us to face difficulty. Confidence is belief is yourself and your abilities, and character is a composition of exquisite qualities such as honesty, courage, and integrity.

I have fought long and hard in my own quest of courage, confidence, and character. All of my life, self-esteem has been a struggle for me. As a child, I experienced two divorces and struggled with feeling unloved. My low self-esteem made me a target in school to teasing, mocking, and mean practical jokes. But my worst enemy has been myself. My worst enemy is my inner critic mocking me, telling me I am not smart enough, strong enough, or pretty enough.

No girl or boy should struggle as I did, and honestly it has not been until very recently that I have come to truly love myself.

Through my thirty-six years of life I have experienced many things, but one of my most amazing experiences began when I walked out of the dressing room in my new dobok. I was at my heaviest weight.  When I tied my white belt, after the knot there was very little belt left. I just had two short stubs that stood up in the air. You won’t believe how many children asked me what was wrong with my belt. Speaking of children, I was the only adult in my first class. But this first awkward experience has opened up so many avenues for me, especially my self-esteem. Graduating magna cum laude from Youngstown State University in my thirties wasn’t enough to boost my self esteem. Even though I was married with a kindergartner and a cocky teenager at home, after achieving my degree with all these obstacles, I still didn’t feel good enough, but Tae Kwon Do has changed me.

I never thought I would do anything physical, especially at 250 pounds, but I have, and I am doing something very physical. In the past year I have performed in almost 10 martial arts demonstrations, one of them being during the Harlem Globe Trotter halftime show. I have competed at the Arnold Sports Festival and came home with 2 silver medals, one in forms and one in sparring. Trust me I have never been very coordinated and martial arts does not come naturally to me. Doing forms is oftentimes a struggle for me, and there are many techniques that I have not mastered yet, like a jumping front kick, but practicing and performing martial arts has shown me I have the ability to do anything. And yes Tae Kwon Do has helped improve my self-esteem dramatically.

In my first Tae Kwon Do class, I absolutely fell in love with Martial Arts. I work an hour away from home, and my top number one priority when I get off work, is to make it to Taylor’s Martial Arts, quickly change, and kick into class.

Tae Kwon Do is also a top priority for my daughter, Franchessca, who is a martial arts student that attends the Afterschool Martial Arts Program and Tae Kwon Do Summer Camp. Both are very beneficial, but very expensive programs that I pay for each week regardless of my daughter’s attendance.

At Tae Kwon Do there are focus words, and two of my favorite words are confidence and perseverance.

Confidence: believe in yourself!

Perseverance: never give up, sir or ma’am.

 Why? In martial arts your goal is attaining a black belt, and that can not be done without confidence or perseverance. And a black belt in Martial Arts is an allegory to any difficult goal, whether it is graduating college, buying and keeping a home, or achieving your dream job. None of it can be done without confidence or perseverance.

The majority of students at the Jr. Tae Kwon Do School are not adults, but children and Tae Kwon Do prepares them for the difficulties in life. I have firsthand knowledge regarding some devastating difficulties in life, and I am dedicated to making a difference in the life of every young girl I meet, hoping that they won’t live with the crushing emotions and feelings that I have dealt with, that led me to write a poem about committing suicide. And if I did not have writing as an outlet, I may have committed the very act.

My passion is fighting for mental health, self confidence, courage for standing up for what you believe, and self esteem tempered with altruism and respect for others. Of course my passion begins with me and my daughter.

Last year when my daughter was in a different Girl Scout Troop, I sat in the meetings wishing I was doing cardio kick boxing or Family Class. What I didn’t know was that my daughter was also secretly wishing she was at Tae Kwon Do.

Due to scheduling conflicts, the meeting day and the time of Franchessca’s Girl Scout Troop changed, and she was unable to participate in the troop. I was heartbroken that my daughter would no longer be in a Girl Scout Troop. I desperately began searching for a troop that would fit around my work schedule, and around our Martial Arts Training. I had no success after looking at all the troops in Howland, Warren, Cortland, and other surrounding areas.

My mind started percolating. What if there was a Girl Scout Troop at Tae Kwon Do for Tae Kwon Do students that worked around their Martial Arts Training? Can profit from the Fall Product Sale and Cookie Sale go towards the girls Martial Arts Training? Can the girls perform Tae Kwon Do Demonstration in their Girl Scout Uniform, and be announced as Girl Scouts before their performance?

After getting Mrs. Taylor permission to have a Girl Scout Troop at the Junior Tae Kwon Do School, I began digging around for answers. And the answer to all these questions were yes and this is how our Girl Scout Troop began.

Combining Tae Kwon Do with Girl Scouts takes the Girl Scouting experience to a totally different level.

Girl Scouts is about building future leaders, and so is Tae Kwon Do. And you know what, us girls are complicated, and many of us are dealing with feeling less than. Girl Scouts is about empowerment, and so is Tae Kwon Do. It is a perfect marriage. Girls need to know that they can do anything, and many girls put Girl Scouting in its own special box, separated from all their other activities, but why? A girl will always be a girl whether she is playing with her friends, going to school, competing in a spelling bee, graduating from high school, or doing Tae Kwon Do. Combing Tae Kwon Do with Girl Scouts will show girls that the can do anything and still be a Girl Scout.

 Imagine girls in their martial arts dobak and their Girl Scout Sash performing a martial arts demonstration, teaching self defense, and bully prevention. It will make a definite statement that girls can do anything.

And its no big secret that martial arts is expensive. Wouldn’t it be neat if the girls learned about financial literacy by a portion of their proceeds going towards their training? And using the money earning projects to teach the girls about what it is like to be an entrepreneur. Allowing the girls  to plan and choose their own money earning project, whether it is a sock hop, or a spaghetti dinner, or a pancake breakfast. Look at our economy today. We need to teach our children, especially our girls about being financially savvy. 

All these reasons are why I feel very strongly about combining Girl Scouts and Tae Kwon Do.