Watching the Days unfold

Everything was going well today. All smiles and happiness, but then I realized I had made a mistake. I am sorry. I did not realize. Everything is turning a greyer shade instead of the bright reds and greens of early fall. I hold within me this mistake, and I want to talk about it, but it will be hours before I call my sister. I must stand up strong until then. I am so sorry. I wanted to tell an interesting story and I didn’t realize I would scare anyone.

It is a half hour before my next class. Now that I have gotten the badness out of my system I can return to smiles. When I am functioning well in this world that’s me all smiles. It is just when things turn on me that I despair. Activity keeps me from despair. When I have time to stop and think with nothing to do that is when my mind wonders.

I am waiting for English to start again. I have ten more minutes not counting Michigan Time (at the University classes start at ten minutes after the time given on the schedule so a 1:00 class would start at 1:10).

You might think that I am goofing of right now but in reality I am slowly forming and molding a plan ever so simple.

When I was in the mental hospital there was a time that I sat in the sun and told another that I was like a cat. I was like a cat in that I was basking in the light. This memory popped into my head today while I was brainstorming.

I think that I need to brush up on my Maya skills. It is about time that I relearn what I learned and I expand on it as well. Who here would like to see some Maya artwork? Raise your hands. I would be taking Maya from a wonderful Professor with a impressive quality of work. I wouldn’t have thought of switching over to the Maya class if it were not for my Professor in the Art of Memory asking if I wanted to switch classes. Which I think was very impressive of him to read my worries.

You see I was worried that our ideas would not match up. That I would end up doing something that I didn’t want to do just to get a good grade.

I have a category on this website called “Student Life.” I find this funny because I in no way live the normal student life. I do not go out to parties; I just focus on classes. I have in incredible ability to tune out all things I consider wastes of time during the school year. Ok, ok, I did watch a bit of Amine in the Winter semester, but these is beside the point. I tune out life so much that when I am outside of school I do not know what to do.

I think that it is time to send in my paper. I mean the big one that is 22 pages long, the one I have not shown you.

I just visited the Sweetland Writing Center. Apparently I need to step back from my paper and rearrange. I have done this before, but with academic writing. Personal writing from the heart is something I have no experience in editing. I think that this post is about long enough by now, time for me to seat back relax, and watch the day pass me by (I have to go to a lecture at 5 so that gives me a little over an half an hour. I think that I will draw cats. So that someday, when I set up my scanner. I will be able use my own cat pictures. They would be on the right side of the post and not the left, so the two could not be confused.

The Tree of Yoga

I found a wonderful Book, The Tree of Yoga. A world famous yoga teacher wrote it…in 1988, but do no think it is out of date because such books do not become out of date. It was B.K.S. Iyengar who wrote the book. What I love about the book is how its title alone (not even counting the rest of the book) supports a part of my Senior Project.

I have decided to take you on a journey. A journey of my mind. A journey that yes includes my path in dealing with my illness, my idea on how to fight the stigma of mental illness and try to find ways in which to fight this illness along with my medication, but this is not the limit of my journey. You will stumble around with me as I walk through the world of Senior Projects trying to find illumination, illumination through meditation.

You might wonder why Yoga and fighting the stigma of mental illness go together, but as taught in the book, the point is not withdrawing from society, but being an example for society. If you do not drink alcohol and your friends ask you to go out to drink alcohol with them tell them you will go with them, but will not drink alcohol. That is what the book says anyway.

I am not done reading the book yet; right now it is comparing the different parts of Yoga to the different parts of a tree. To me the tree of yoga has to be a Bonsai tree, because it is a tree of such art and care.

A certain passage in the book stood out to me (a number of them did). “I am within and I am without.” This is about being a part of society and yet being different in that you do not drink alcohol. It is not the meaning that stood out to me, but it triggered a memory. When I was locked into a small room at the mental hospital I came to the conclusion that my sin in life had always been locking myself in. I had stayed in my house more then I should have, I had spent too much time reading/watching/drawing in my room and I had willingly walked into this small little room. This is interesting in of in itself, but when I got out of the mental hospital I was laying in a bed and I heard in my head, “She used to lock herself in now she is locking herself out.”

I am locking myself in again today. I have decided to stay and work instead of going with a big group to a reuse center to get furniture for our Senior Studios.

The first step of my journey is in clay. I am buying 100 seeds to put into the refrigerator until they spout life. At that point in their journey they will need pots. I could buy 100 pots (if I count my eggs before they hatch), or I could make them one by one. Making the pots would look better, and be cheaper then buying them.

I am afraid however that this is a project that will take time to grow.

For new readers (that would be almost everyone) I am trying to grow Bonsai trees and transferring through meditation the essence of my medication (I have Bipolar disorder) into the roots of the tree. I have some left over medications from changes in my cocktail, and someone suggested that I use real medication. I am really looking to transfer just the essence, but I will think about this.

I will also be creating the essence of new medications by planting seeds. I may not have the education to create my own medications to battle the world’s illnesses, but for those who want to be cured, I can send positive energy their way.

Drawf trees aka Bonsai

I have started my quest for Bonsai trees. So far I have collected two saplings and will be putting up pictures of the cute little babies soon. I have yet to figure out how to get my outdoor Bonsai to survive the Michigan winter, but I was thinking of my parent’s breezeway, or planting them in my parents yard.

I have started the never-ending quest of exploring my Bipolar disorder. I will hit this problem from every angle. I was told that if I did parts of every project I would be spreading myself to thin, but if I took one unifying theme and pulled a string from each project it might just work. I therefore am going to try to continue on with the website, and develop my course as I am walking along the path.

You see part of my inter-self is my mind, and the medication that flows through my veins interacts with my brain in ways that are not completely understood my science. All I know is I act differently on different medications. On Geodon I was reaching out to the world looking for a soul mate… on Abilify my mind wondered to dark and unpleasant places. With Zyprexa Zydis a bit of my passion for life has come back, but mostly I no longer cared. This medicated not caring combines with the actually warn down felling of entering a senior year. The combination is toxic.

I received a message from my pDoc today telling me that I needed to have a medication change. It was something about my lab results. I am glad that the change is happening at the beginning of the Semester where, if I start falling asleep in class, I will not lose everything.

Good news…another day has passed, and the only change in my medication will be a decrease in the Zyprexa Zydis. Sounds wonderful right. As long as I don’t start hearing things or backing away from society and so forth the news is wonderful indeed.

Grandma

My Grandmother was a wonderful person. She did however have her peculiararities. She believed her house was bugged by the government and would try to feed statues.

One day she took me to a table covered with small trinkets of all kinds. I remember a beautiful Hummel of the Virgin Mary in full color. She asked me to pick one thing off that table. The statue of the Virgin tempted me, but instead I took a small glass bird. My Grandmother had always loved birds.

Later when my Grandmother developed Alzheimer’s my sister and myself took turns sharing our room with her. At first one night Rachel would sleep on the sofa, and the next I would. My Grandmother would get up in the middle of the night and do things like cut up her blanket. I would sleep right through all of this, whereas my sister Rachel wouldn’t. So in the end I was sleeping on the sofa all the time. Each morning I would wake up to the songs of our parakeets. We had parakeets just like out Grandmother used to.

Later in my life I would end up doing artwork based on this memory. A bird caged in a nest; just like her disease caged her brain represented my Grandmother. The pain of watching my Grandmother suffering was always great within me, and something happening to my brain became one of my major fears. Her Alzheimer’s became so bad that in the end she forgot how to shallow correctly. I looked at my Grandmother not understanding what was wrong and I thought, “She looks thirsty.” So I would got her more water. My brother got mad at me for doing this and I said that water never hurt anyone. He responded that someone could drown in it.

After my Grandmother died and I heard she had forgotten how to shallow I thought my getting her water had killed her. I did not realize that the doctors could easily deal with that problem. I never told anyone this, except years later to a friend who would later get mad at me and accuse me of killing my Grandmother.

As for that glass bird, I kept it for year, and then one day it disappeared. My sister had a habit of throwing things out without asking. As for the Hummel, it was sold in a Garage Sale after my Grandfather dead. My mother often talks about how much she wishes she had kept it. As for my brain, about two years ago I developed Schizoaffective Bipolar Disorder. Happily Ever After!