In this novel I’ve been reading the main character is bipolar but apparently a long cycle manic depressive because she doesn’t have real episodes for years and usually triggered by something specifically but builds…Anyway it is interesting to read the description of the gradual increase in energy and thought clarity and how reality starts to seem so surreal with colors bright, sounds defined and how she uses her peak time when she feels like her true self for clarity because she knows it’s definitely going to change into a muddled mess and eventually some wild fiction. The wild fiction that seems more real than reality and how she just can’t tell the difference at times and she knows that she’ll inevitably break and then have to hopefully recover. Once she knows how the progression works she can learn how to sort of slow the progression and eventual break. She even describes how it is after recovering to become quiet and more solitary and behind the scenes so that she can just stay stable. Rocking the boat at all when one is newly recovered could begin a quick spiral out of control.
During the rest phase bipolar people know that the funny, life of the party, take life by the balls version of themselves is alone in a room somewhere inside of them just waiting for stage directions so that they can take the stage and make life energetic and interesting again.
I think either the author of this book is manic/depressive or someone very close to them is.
rambling
Kiddo Krazy
Krazy Konversations with Kiddo: Last night someone asked me if I thought that people thought that I was crazy.
I clarified “Do I think that people think that I’M crazy?”
*Nod*
“Well if they don’t then they haven’t been paying attention.” I chuckled then continued “I’m good crazy though. Like fun and whacky and just love the beauty of the world around me so much that it makes me NUTS…but in a good way. I also may be considered crazy in other ways but I’m not bad crazy like Charles Manson or The Zodiac Killer. I’m passionate”
“It’s true you’re crazy in those ways but you’re just keeping the bad crazy under control. You’re good at everything you do and you definitely have the potential to be the baddest of the bad crazies ever. Passionate is a good word to describe you and it’s possible to be passionate in bad behaviour too. You’re the craziest person I know and I would not want to be on your bad side”
“Errr, thanks…I think. So I guess it’s a good thing that I choose not to let people get on my bad side. I know better than to let the “bad crazy” out to play.
“You have the most creative dark conversations though. You’re definitely a psychpath. You should write a book with a crazy antagonist and a crazy protagonist because you see things from both points of view. I would love to read it”
“Okay that’s another book to put on my list of books I should write. This one will be called Kiddo Krazy and it will be dedicated to you.”
“Okay our time is up. You’ll be taken back to the rec room now”
“Ha ha…you better watch it or that book might become nonfiction”
Reflections with Kiddo
#kiddokrazy #nofilter #bathroomfaucet #dontneedanappforthat
The beginning of the end
Since I was 14yrs old I’ve shaved my legs in the shower by putting my foot chest high on the tile wall. The past few years when I shave my legs while standing in the shower I’ve started to think that one day I won’t be able to do this anymore. To me that is the beginning of the end. Eventually I will only be able to shave my legs while sitting in a bubble bath. Damn good thing I love bubble baths.
#1stworldprobs
Drinking cheap, HARSH vodka (straight) because rent was due and I’m the head of a single income household. $1,000 doesn’t grow on trees.
Ironically Cliche should be a style
In a perfect world: Alternate Saturday’s would include getting stoned while listening to Fade Into You ~ Mazzy Star as many times as it took and then making love while listening to Wild Horses ~ The Sundays as many times as it took ~ Kiddo’s Perfect World
That’s Enough Photo Editing Edith
This was enough editing...not too professional but you get the point
I suddenly realized while I was applying my Merle Roberts• tonight that just maybe I been applying it wrong all along all alone. Perhaps I had been trying to tighten the wrong body part 
I’m okay, you’re okay
Sometimes we just need to allow ourselves the luxury of staying in bed at home all weekend. Sometimes I get stuck in the cycle of accepting people’s invitations just to prove to them and to myself that I’m okay. I don’t like pretending but usually the “fake it until you make it” approach actually works. I also have a sneaking suspicion that if I bench myself that Unis will see no reason to keep me in the game. I don’t want to stop getting invitations to dinners, game nights or drinks on the patio but I also want to stay home for one three day weekend without it being a game changer. Why can’t I do laundry, clean house, get caught up on Ellen and have deep conversations with my teens while not being entirely sober for a few days without feeling like I’m obligated to prove to Unis that I’m still worthy to recieve invitations for late night drinks or afternoon matinees. I don’t really desire to hang out with anyone this weekend but don’t want to risk being benched indefinitely. It could so easily get to the point of no return. I want to keep my options open. If I were in a long term relationship it would be different…at least then I would have someone to stay home with without being benched. Why should I have to show Unis that I truly appreciate each invite by accepting it…..I DO appreciate the invitations but just don’t feel like putting on my public happy face. I’m happy right now just being home with my boys and trying to get caught up on lesson plans and laundry while wearing any face I want. Mostly, I just want to slow down time to make this three day weekend stretch indefinitely 🙂
I miss making love
One of the biggest things I miss about being in a relationship is making love. I still get to have as much sex as the average Jo but it lacks the connection one gets with someone they’re in a relationship with. The sex is great and I wouldn’t want to live without it but it’s definitely lacking some intimacy. I also miss giving and receiving massages and making a special dinner for a special someone. BUT today I put fresh linens on my king size bed (is it king sized or king size? Does it matter? Is it meant to be hyphenated?) and now I am soaking in a hot bath and using Nivea’s in shower lotion to shave and moisturize. Sliding between clean sheets with ultra smooth skin tonight will be DELICIOUS! Not as delicious as making love and not quite as nice as really good sex but definitely a close third. Tonight it’s all I’ve got so I’m going to make the most of it.
Your baloney has a 1st name it’s P-H-O-N-E-Y
Sometimes I mistakenly think something is “real” because I’m always real on my end. I don’t know how or why to be any other way. Turns out no matter how real I am if the other person is less than real then nothing about us is really real. Phoney baloney isn’t bolgna. Both are gross. Reality is gross. Oh well, I guess that means that I’m gross but that doesn’t change the fact that life is beautiful or that Unis can kiss my aged ass.
Insane chances
There’ve been exactly two people in my entire life to make me crazy. Chances of that actually happening even once are insane. I’m currently more sane than I’ve ever really been. Totally comfortable and relaxed with no anticipation frothing beneath my calm surface. There is a method to my madness like when people work out so that they can enjoy food.
My season of poor choices
Yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of my divorce. Such a nice Thanksgiving family memory. Today, Black Friday, is the anniversary of me first hooking up with my ex-girlfriend. It’s the season of my poor choices. What a great reminder to make better decisions or just skip the relationships all together for awhile and enjoy being alone for the holidays. Life may be more lonely alone but the logistics are certainly less complicated.
Still, I’ve gotta squeeze in more cardio because my goal for 2016 is to find an amazing girlfriend with perfect tits and the libido of a 35 to 42 yr old woman. I’m gonna need to shed fifteen pounds to attract anyone at all and I must keep my endurance up so that I can keep her satisfied once I’ve found her.
Another option which allows me to thoroughly enjoy one of my other appetites is to just say forget the human relationships and really commit to my food fetish. It’s definitely the season to indulge in delicious food and drink but ARRRGH I’m trying to work on making better choices! If only I could see the future and know which decision would be the most fulfilling. With that I’m going for my run while I mull it over. Maybe Unis will send me a sign….or a hottie.
Discarded or free to be?
My initial thought when I saw this doughnut discarded in the bushes was that it was sad and lonely. It had done it’s best to be appealing all decked out with chocolate and sprinkles and was yet rejected. Someone had tried it and tossed it away. Then I realized that Kiddo was projecting. Sure this doughnut was not living the purpose for which it was originally intended but it was living a life that most of it’s kind would never get to experience. It had been scarred but now had the opportunity to bask in the sunlight amongst the bushes rather than be immediately consumed. Sprinkles had been given the chance to remain as the sun went down and there’s really no telling what would become of it now. Maybe a raccoon would make a tastey meal of it or perhaps a colony of ants would carry it away one crumb at a time. Either way it had been kissed by the elements and nothing could ever take that away. The fate of Sprinkles was in the hands of Unis now.
In my bed…
The night following a very rare night that I didn’t sleep alone my big ol’ bed seems so empty. Not in a good way or in a bad way just very empty. I really notice the emptiness but I thought about it tonight differently. I am 42 years of age. I was with the same man for only 20 years of it. I have slept more nights in bed alone than not alone so I should view that as the norm. I can stretch out naked spread-eagled across the bed with no one to enjoy the view and feel entirely free
Relating to Kermit
Just realized that I can totally relate to Kermit when I heard him say “You know, when Piggy and I were a couple, I found her unpredictable and spontaneous and quirky, you know? It was kind of sexy. But if you take dating out of the equation, she’s just a lunatic.”
Not too much to ask…
I really want someone to know me completely and yet love me so wholeheartedly that even though they don’t love every little thing about me they still choose me over and over again.
Off track…
I’m sooo good when I’m good and soooo bad when I’m bad. I was good for two decades. Then the shit hit the fan and I went off track. Now I’m the engineer of Kiddo’s Wild Ride with no direction and no apparent destination ~ Kiddo’s Exhausted Korner
Lonely rain
I love the sound of the rain outside my window. It’s soothing music to sleep to even though tonight it makes my aloneness under the covers more real. There’s something about listening to the rain with someone that makes it sound different than when listening alone. It’s beautiful either way.
Life is good
My life is always so good that I’m never waiting for some day in the future when things will be better. More than anything I’m enjoying each day like it’s the rare treasure that it is and already feeling nostalgic for each passing minute. Knowing as Country Time Lemonade reminds us that “these are the good ol’ days”. Honestly, if my life got any better I would genuinely not know what to do with myself.
My magic shoes
My magic shoes...they'll take me any whehyuh
My magic shoes…they’ll take me any whehyuh.
Every puddle I ran through tonight was warm so it was like splashing through tepid tree soup and I made sure I didn’t miss a single bowl. The rain was steady and ran off the end of my nose. After awhile the runoff tasted of salt. When I first started out I wondered how I would fare without my Kangoos to protect my joints and put a spring in my stride and figured I would run until I just stopped…which made me think of Forrest Gump and how in Vietnam it just rained and rained until one day it just stopped and how later he ran and ran until one day he just stopped. I thought of metaphors and symbolism and took a reading from each of my slightly complaining body parts to see if any one of them didth protest too much. Every part seemed committed to continuing if I persisted so I forded the flood and used each upcoming puddle as my motivational carrot. I wore these shoes because they’re old and failing which means their decrepitcy gave them a beautiful purpose. I didn’t wear socks because my feet would get damp inside my sneaks anyway so I had a more personal purposeful relationship with my soles… which made me think of my soul vs my sole and I thought of homonym and homophone and gauged the distance left to my place to see if I thought I would make it back. Every puddle seemed behind me now and only a few turns remained so I was disappointed to be at the end but used the last bite of my carrot to bound to the end of my 2 mile peregrination.
Kiddo’s Komparison Korner
I’m just sittin’ here with my big a$$ belly stickin’ out in front of me like I’m the lady with 3 boobs in Kung Pow: Enter the Fist except my third boob is waaay bigger and has an inverted nipple ~ Kiddo’s Komparison Korner
Not That Anyone Asked Me... 