These wise words are fairly inspirational:
To laugh often and much,
To win the respect of intelligent people,
and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics,
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child, a garden patch...
To know even one life has breathed
easier because you have lived;
This is to have succeeded!
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Thursday, September 23, 2004
What a Difference!
Wow, well I am feelng a lot better and I guess I can attribute it to the increased dosage of my mood stabilizer, in addition to my life stabilizing le'at le'at (slowly slowly). The last post from this Monday was a little exaggerated because I was describing events and feelings I had the previous week, so my road to recovery hasn't been *quite* this dramatic.
And I almost have new roommates the search for whom has been a harrowing experience, to say the least! I'm starting to entertain potential career directions and active steps I can take to research organizations/firms and secure work. And no bf on the horizon which doesn't matter b/c I am quite happy to be SINGLEGALNYC. So apropos that I chose that pseudonym/moniker (i like both words & couldn't choose), eh??
Yay, I'm excited for life again! And a week ago I was so convinced that life couldn't get any worse and couldn't be worth living. I hope that these episodes subside b/c with any regularity, they will wreak havoc on my life and prevent me from maintaining stable relationships with people and holding down jobs.
Ze oh! (That's all (folks))
And I almost have new roommates the search for whom has been a harrowing experience, to say the least! I'm starting to entertain potential career directions and active steps I can take to research organizations/firms and secure work. And no bf on the horizon which doesn't matter b/c I am quite happy to be SINGLEGALNYC. So apropos that I chose that pseudonym/moniker (i like both words & couldn't choose), eh??
Yay, I'm excited for life again! And a week ago I was so convinced that life couldn't get any worse and couldn't be worth living. I hope that these episodes subside b/c with any regularity, they will wreak havoc on my life and prevent me from maintaining stable relationships with people and holding down jobs.
Ze oh! (That's all (folks))
Monday, September 20, 2004
Back to Square One... that is, Negative One
First of all, apologies to my loyal readers for my unexplained absence. This can, in fact, be attributed to my recent trip to Israel as a deputy diplomat in the department of peace-keeping efforts and hasbara-associated conflagrations. Actually, I've just been busy dealing with life and contemplating "next steps" regarding said life, specifically the choice between work or play. Just kidding, work or grad school. I wish that "play" were an option. In any case, I digress and will return to this subject at another date, but first a note from the editor....
------
Ed. Note: This blog was not intended to be a diary of the ups and downs of my life (and illness). For that purpose, I keep a personal journal (a written one, if you can believe it.) In the future, this blog may once again address interesting observations of trains, planes & automobiles (ie subways, world affairs & navigating city life), not to exclude* specific elements of 20-something NYC life, such as dating, social life, religion, politics, demographics, advertising, shopping, driving, touristing, etc., to be supplemented by my very own commentary & analysis on Judaism, Israel and the matzav. Despite the ready availability of my journal (yes, it calls out to me), I find opening up to an audience of strangers to be strangely satisfying. Even if you don't comment (which I wish you would!), it's nice to know that people out there are learning about the tumultuous experiences of someone with bipolar disorder. (1 in every 100 people suffer from it.)
*Isn't "not to exclude" so much more apropos than "not to mention," which itself is a contradiction?
-------
Yes, that's BIPOLAR DISORDER. That's what I have and I'm proud (proud?) to share it with you. I was previously battling depression, with doctors' suspicions that I was bipolar based on a questionable manic episode a few years ago. The suspicion was confirmed after this most recent bout. My immediate family, a few friends and all my roommates are "in-the-know." (This makes for a grand total of about 12.) Yet, I don't want others to know because it seems like a drastic omen, plus there is a negative perception of mental illnesses among the general public. (I am not an institutionalized psycho; that was my ex-roommate!) Moreover, pity is the last thing I want from people.
Unfortunately, just when I thought I was on the mend, the upswing, toward normalcy, from my recent manic episode, I took a turn for the worse. Apparently it's not so uncommon to veer into a depression immediately following a manic period. However, it caught me by surprise and I am shocked at how low I can go.
When I encountered my (first?) most severe incident of depression, I was calling my mother every day, crying. I saw no light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, I didn't even see a tunnel. I thought my life was so terrible... and this all happened at a point in my life when I had just moved to Manhattan, had a great new apartment, a new job, a new boyfriend and everything on the outside seemed spectacular whereas I was falling apart on the inside.
Well now, it's fortunate that I'm well-medicated because if I was in such a state then, when everything seemed so rosy, I don't know where I'd be otherwise right now. I am currently in a state of flux in regards to every aspect of my life: apartment, job, boyfriend. I really could care less that I am boyfriend-less now (that guy about whom I was *so* excited is out of the picture), but I would certainly appreciate some direction from someone (G-d??) about what the heck I am meant to do with my life -- professionally, academically and how I can make the world a better place...
I know that sounds hokey; it was meant to... it was a hyperbole of sorts. I've been reading the book Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynn Truss. If you haven't heard of it, let me tell you that is something I should have written myself. It rails against the plummeting standards of punctuation (and grammar, to a degree), and while originally geared toward "the select few," it has achieved great success both in the UK and here. The author's hilarious style makes for an entertaining read with which any literate person can identify.
Back to me me me and me. It's nice to have a captive (okay, cursorily passing through) audience. If anything whatsoever resonates or you wish to comment, commend, criticize or query me, feel free to do so. Actually, you can hold off on the criticism, unless it's very gentle or very urgent (or simply urgentle).
I am in such a pathetic state right now. I have no idea where I'm going, what I'm doing, etc. I am feeling so low that I am avoiding phone calls and interactions with friends and family because I have nothing to say of note about my life. This is particularly an issue with those people who don't know about my condition. I told my mom that I don't know what to say when people inevitably ask, "How are you?" Her suggested responses were "I've been better" and "Hangin' in there." Not too bad for getting past the initial minute of a phone call, but past that is pretty tricky.
Today, I was asked how my book was coming along. This book is something that I came up with in the midst of my manic episode. I emailed about 25 of my closest friends to share with them this endeavor (minus details about my illness) and request their input about their experiences as post-college 20-somethings. I was going to share my groundbreaking and unique experience with others, focusing on what it's like to be bipolar (whoa, scary to write it like that.. ie to BE bipolar), and specific to the other components of my life: NYC, religion, single life and one other that I do not recall. I do think I have a lot to say (as I always do!), but whether it's fodder for a whole book is another story. Anyway, I still think it's a bit unique in that quarter-life-crisis meets memoirs-of-the-mentally-ill kind of way.
That's all for tonight, folks! Laila tov.
P.S. Shana tova to all! May you have a sweet, healthy, happy & properous year ahead!
------
Ed. Note: This blog was not intended to be a diary of the ups and downs of my life (and illness). For that purpose, I keep a personal journal (a written one, if you can believe it.) In the future, this blog may once again address interesting observations of trains, planes & automobiles (ie subways, world affairs & navigating city life), not to exclude* specific elements of 20-something NYC life, such as dating, social life, religion, politics, demographics, advertising, shopping, driving, touristing, etc., to be supplemented by my very own commentary & analysis on Judaism, Israel and the matzav. Despite the ready availability of my journal (yes, it calls out to me), I find opening up to an audience of strangers to be strangely satisfying. Even if you don't comment (which I wish you would!), it's nice to know that people out there are learning about the tumultuous experiences of someone with bipolar disorder. (1 in every 100 people suffer from it.)
*Isn't "not to exclude" so much more apropos than "not to mention," which itself is a contradiction?
-------
Yes, that's BIPOLAR DISORDER. That's what I have and I'm proud (proud?) to share it with you. I was previously battling depression, with doctors' suspicions that I was bipolar based on a questionable manic episode a few years ago. The suspicion was confirmed after this most recent bout. My immediate family, a few friends and all my roommates are "in-the-know." (This makes for a grand total of about 12.) Yet, I don't want others to know because it seems like a drastic omen, plus there is a negative perception of mental illnesses among the general public. (I am not an institutionalized psycho; that was my ex-roommate!) Moreover, pity is the last thing I want from people.
Unfortunately, just when I thought I was on the mend, the upswing, toward normalcy, from my recent manic episode, I took a turn for the worse. Apparently it's not so uncommon to veer into a depression immediately following a manic period. However, it caught me by surprise and I am shocked at how low I can go.
When I encountered my (first?) most severe incident of depression, I was calling my mother every day, crying. I saw no light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, I didn't even see a tunnel. I thought my life was so terrible... and this all happened at a point in my life when I had just moved to Manhattan, had a great new apartment, a new job, a new boyfriend and everything on the outside seemed spectacular whereas I was falling apart on the inside.
Well now, it's fortunate that I'm well-medicated because if I was in such a state then, when everything seemed so rosy, I don't know where I'd be otherwise right now. I am currently in a state of flux in regards to every aspect of my life: apartment, job, boyfriend. I really could care less that I am boyfriend-less now (that guy about whom I was *so* excited is out of the picture), but I would certainly appreciate some direction from someone (G-d??) about what the heck I am meant to do with my life -- professionally, academically and how I can make the world a better place...
I know that sounds hokey; it was meant to... it was a hyperbole of sorts. I've been reading the book Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynn Truss. If you haven't heard of it, let me tell you that is something I should have written myself. It rails against the plummeting standards of punctuation (and grammar, to a degree), and while originally geared toward "the select few," it has achieved great success both in the UK and here. The author's hilarious style makes for an entertaining read with which any literate person can identify.
Back to me me me and me. It's nice to have a captive (okay, cursorily passing through) audience. If anything whatsoever resonates or you wish to comment, commend, criticize or query me, feel free to do so. Actually, you can hold off on the criticism, unless it's very gentle or very urgent (or simply urgentle).
I am in such a pathetic state right now. I have no idea where I'm going, what I'm doing, etc. I am feeling so low that I am avoiding phone calls and interactions with friends and family because I have nothing to say of note about my life. This is particularly an issue with those people who don't know about my condition. I told my mom that I don't know what to say when people inevitably ask, "How are you?" Her suggested responses were "I've been better" and "Hangin' in there." Not too bad for getting past the initial minute of a phone call, but past that is pretty tricky.
Today, I was asked how my book was coming along. This book is something that I came up with in the midst of my manic episode. I emailed about 25 of my closest friends to share with them this endeavor (minus details about my illness) and request their input about their experiences as post-college 20-somethings. I was going to share my groundbreaking and unique experience with others, focusing on what it's like to be bipolar (whoa, scary to write it like that.. ie to BE bipolar), and specific to the other components of my life: NYC, religion, single life and one other that I do not recall. I do think I have a lot to say (as I always do!), but whether it's fodder for a whole book is another story. Anyway, I still think it's a bit unique in that quarter-life-crisis meets memoirs-of-the-mentally-ill kind of way.
That's all for tonight, folks! Laila tov.
P.S. Shana tova to all! May you have a sweet, healthy, happy & properous year ahead!
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