Coming Out

If you have followed my blog for any significant amount of time or you have gone through the past posts, you know the main purpose of this blog is to help erase the negative stigma associated with mental illness and Bipolar in particular.  However, there is another message that is incredibly important. 

If you are experiencing depression, anxiety, mania, or anything else that just doesn't feel right mentally and emotionally, there is absolutely no shame in getting help.  Speak up.  Speak out.  As Jenny, The Bloggess, reminded me this morning as I read through one of her most recent posts (I got behind), your friends and family would rather have a broken, bed-ridden you than no you at all.  "Your friends and family want you…broken or not.  Don’t leave.  Speak out.  Be honest about your condition to let others know that they can be honest with theirs. Together we’ll get through it." 

So for those who love you, read Jenny's post, then *speak out* because you're wanted in their life.

For Jenny, and Lori (a wonderful lady in Jenny's post), and for everyone else who suffers in silence:

Twitter...The New Police Tool

Ok, so I knew that Twitter could be really super awesome if I ever had the time to spend on it.  Hell, all I have to do is follow @TheBloggess and I am guaranteed to know all the important events I need to be aware of like the recent Zombie Apocalypse #za  or when it is time to be #furiouslyhappy.  But apparently Twitter has outdone itself in Europe. 


http://thenextweb.com/uk/2010/10/14/police-force-tweets-emergency-calls-scores-twitter-hit/

For those of you who don't want to click the link (lazy asses):

A UK police force has scored a major hit today by tweeting every single 999 emergency call it receives over a 24-hour period.  Greater Manchester Police‘s move has seen an overwhelming response among UK Twitter users today as over one hundred tweets per hour are published, reporting everything from real emergencies like thefts and potential accidents to non-emergencies like Threatening messages on Facebook and a man asleep on a toilet in a theatre.

Why is the force doing this? As Inside the M60 reports today, GMP is currently faced with having to make budget cuts of up to £7 million. Chief Constable Peter Fahy has opted to use social media to show how much work the police has to deal with and how cuts stretch resources, saying a lot of police work “is not recognised in league tables and measurements – yet is a huge part of what we do.”

The tweets, spread out over three accounts in order to get around Twitter’s API limits on account usage (even on its own website), have captured the public’s imagination with two spoof accounts being set up. This one is arguably producing the most humorous results, which the other was reprimanded by the police for using their official crest logo. That said, sometimes real life is funnier than parody. See this example: “Call 384 report of man holding baby over bridge – police immediately attended and it was man carrying dog that doesn’t like bridges”.

Meanwhile, we hear that open data enthusiasts are already working on code to analyse data from the calls. It’s fair to say that social media agency Gabba has hit on something with this seemingly simple campaign. The public has got to see the sheer range of calls, some appropriate, some not, that the police has to deal with, generating lots of word-of-mouth discussion and media coverage. Whether it will have any lasting effect beyond public awareness of stretched police resources remains to be seen, but it’s still a bold move that’s paid off.

You can follow Greater Manchester Police’s tweets at their three accounts here, here and here or via the hashtag #gmp24 The ‘experiment’ ends at 5am on 15 October, British Summer Time.

Oh.  Hell.  Yes!


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Learning to Accept Help

In November, I was just starting to get into the blog-o-shere.  I stepped into the shallow end of the pool by reading just one blog, who still remains my favorite, The Bloggess.  I know I talk about her all the time, but I immediately fell in love because she shared my sarcastic, witty, and sometimes demented sense of humor.  It wasn't long before she had me reading all her blogs, including her advice column and satirical sex blog.  Every now and then, my beloved Jenny posts something serious though, and that is how I was introduced to a beautiful family who had gone through so much misfortune, the Mayhews. 

She may not know it, but Anissa and her husband, Peter, have somewhat become idols for me.  For me, it started on their Hope For Peyton blog that turned into a quasi "Hope for Anissa" blog when she had two massive strokes in November.  Jenny had posted the event on her blog and I have been following the Mayhews ever since.  Their strength and love as a family gripped me, and though I never comment much, I love hearing their story because it gives me hope when I am in the pits of mine.  It is because of Peter that I decided to start my own blog.  He needed somewhere he could put his thoughts down and reach out to people as he waited for news on Anissa.  I needed a place to put my thoughts down as I wait for bouts of depression, anxiety, and rheumatoid arthritis to pass.  His words inspired me in the beginning, and now his wife inspires me today. 

As I sit here, unable to use my right arm due to extreme pain from RA and feeling useless and handicapped, I pull up Anissa's Blog and I think, if this amazing woman can come back from two major strokes that should have killed her (according to doctors), and still get up every day for the last 4 months to take care of her three beautiful kids and keep pushing every day to get better, then who the hell am I to sit here and feel sorry for myself because I have been down and non-functional for a whole 3 freaking days. 

But this is the worst flareup I have ever had and I thought I knew some of Anissa's frustration from my past health issues.  Not exactly, but I thought I could understand some of it.  Boy was I wrong.  The pain of the last 3 days have brought on a whole new meaning for me of handicapped and useless.  As I have had to ask my husband to open the milk for me, refill my water bottle, wash my hair, or turn a doorknob because I couldn't grasp it, a new meaning formed.  As I lost use of my right arm because any movement at all, even typing, cause too much pain, a new meaning formed.  As I spend hours typing with one hand, and then lay completely still in bed watching reruns because it's the only thing I can do where I am semi-comfortable, a new meaning formed.  As I burst into tears because I was stupid enough to try reaching behind me to unclasp my own bra, a new meaning formed.  And with this new, deeper meaning of what it is feel handicapped and useless, I bet I still don't even scratch the surface of what so many others go through.

So I will stop feeling sorry for myself, but I will accept my limitations right now.  I can never heal if I don't give my body the break it wants/needs.  I will ask for help unclasping my bra, turning on the shower, washing my hair, and making breakfast.  I will ask for help picking up the laptop so I can write my next blog one-handed or surf Facebook.  But what I most recently learned from Anissa, I will ask for comfort when the reality of the situation overwhelms me and I feel like my world is crashing down.  I will reach out to my friends and family and ask for that gentle hug and "poor baby" to get me through the next minute, hour, or day.  Because sometimes, comfort is the most important help you need.



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You are worth it.

I read a blog post today that really spoke to me.  It was a post that made me question some of the things I think about myself, and then it made me wonder how others feel about themselves.  It was a post that made me shed a few tears and made me long for something beautiful, fluffy, sparkly, and RED!  It was a post by my Favorite. Blogger. Ever.  I highly encourage you to read the most recent post by The Bloggess too. 

You see, I deal with bouts of depression on a fairly regular basis.  She and her red dress got me thinking about all the times in my life where I thought how I was just a waste of space and time.  Why would anyone want to deal with me?  I am nothing.  At least that is what this disease tells me.  Lies.  It is all lies.  But then I started thinking about all the other people in the world who don't have someone to remind them that these thoughts are lies.  Whether they are planted by mental illness, abuse, or anything else, they are all lies.  Every person has a purpose.  Every person has at least one person who loves them.  If you were to disappear one day, someone would miss you, and you might not even realize who that person is.  It could be the neighbor across the street that misses you because you smile at her every day when you pick up the newspaper.  It could be the barista at the coffee shop because he knows, without a doubt, that at the very least, you will make him laugh today.

So you see, no matter where your thoughts lead you, just think of this beautiful, fluffy, sparkly, red dress and remember...you are worth it too.

As for me, well, I would die to wear that dress, but alas, I am way too shy to even consider going to Blogher so instead, I just might buy a sparkly red dress of my own...because I am worth it too. 

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Seize the Weeny!

Ok, how many of you actually remember the names of all the games you played as a child?  How many of you made up games as a child?  How many of those games were slightly inappropriate?  Methinks The Bloggess is on to something in her most recent post...or on something...one or the other.  As always though, her commentors make the situation just that much more hilarious.

Seriously though, who actually played a game called "Steal the Bacon" as a child?  As I child, I would have interpreted that as stealing my mom's ATM card.  It was bad enough when she responded to our request for money one day with "Do I look like an ATM?" and we poked her five times and put out our hand for cash.  She definitely would have lost it had we truly decided to "steal the bacon."

So don't let conformists hold you back Jenny!  I think your final answer is totally on track and iHop needs to make their children's menus more age appropriate.  Seize the weeny, Jenny.  SEIZE THE WEENY!

You Be the Judge

So this weekend we had a friend in town for 4 days.  We knew the weekend was destined for greatness right from the start.  How, you ask?  Well we received a sign from the gods of course...in the form of magical sushi boobies: 

Naturally, when coming upon this fabulous boobies of sushi, it made me think of my favorite blog ever, Jenny, The Bloggess.  If you are not familiar with her awesome scribing abilities, you may want to familiarize yourself with it, but in the interest of time, it is this post on mushroom boobs that my boobie sushi made me think of.  So, of course, I had to share my delight with the fabulous Bloggess.  The problem is that she didn't quite see things the same way I did.  You be the judge.

As of yet, I have not received a response.  Perhaps she is in awe of my shockingly awesome boobies too...and no, you don't get to see them.

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