Did you know guppies sleep?
I didn’t. I thought he was dead, so I went to take a closer look, tapped the glass lightly… nothing.
Then Itchy; seeing me; scoots his fat cootery ass over because I am the Great and Powerful FOOD slave. Where I am, there may be food. So I start to tap more frantically and move from the spot and the guppy starts up like a sailor the morning after returning from shore leave. Wibbling, wobbling… and then he darted off, crisis averted. Not that Itchy paid him any attention at all, he just stared me in the eyes the entire time.
Hmm, do you think he could be a relative of Hypnotoad?
Anyways, I put 4 guppies in there originally, my theory is that one died of natural causes, and one was eaten by Itchy who then decided that guppies taste crappy and not to bother. I have literally watched him completely ignore one of the guppies that swam directly in front of his maw while Itchy is alternatingly and frantically waving his love handles at me and trying to swim his way straight up out of the water.
i just checked on Itchy, because I was hearing weird noises… nothing happening though. It did however remind me of something:
I err, well you see, I bought yet another tank from a friend. It’s already up and running and filled with fish. While I was over there looking at it, the turtle was mentioned and she looked mildly horrified and told me not to put the turtle in with the fish, because well turtles are pigs, and while he won’t eat guppies that swim away, I’m pretty sure he’d eat an easy target.
And as I remembered my mind decided to visualize the scene from Futurama where Nixon is recorded saying, “I’ll go into people’s houses at night and wreck up the place!” except Nixon is Itchy, and he’s saying “I’ll go into fish’s houses at night and wreck up the place!”
Holy crapoly, it’s been 2 months between posts!
Sorry about that, I DO actually have a bunch of half written blogs that I kept forgetting about.
Part of my reluctance to post lately is that I feel I don’t have any good news? I guess? And my brain insists that we only post positive thoughts.
But you know; I think I fail myself and maybe others by doing that. If there is at least one person out there reading this because their brain plays the same tricks mine does then my not acknowledging my falls and feelings of being doomed to despair, may make them think they’ve failed because they have them and I don’t.
So yes, I have fallen many a time. Even medicated. Even surrounded by support and loved ones. Even having a partner who is completely behind me.
I’m sure I’ve got half written depression phase notes all over my computer that I never post; if I can find them, I’ll post them for more insight on my err… God my brain just said “journey” and immediately responded to itself by going “Blech!!” How about my attempts to drag myself out of the pit and into the sun again?
Taming the beast that is Bipolar is as much about recognizing the dark moods as it is about finding the light.
For this I love the internet, though its genius is also its downside; it gives us a plethora of information and communication.
So much so, that fraud, disinformation and data manipulation is easily dispersed amongst it… Still, I feel if you’re reasonably diligent about fact checking and verification, you’re far better off knowledge wise than any previous generation. Of course that could be said of practically every generation, but in this case the jump we’ve made in the last 20 years is astounding in comparison to past advancements. You can carry an entire library in your pocket, access to more movies and tv shows than you could watch in your lifetime, along with all the porn you could ever want, and a whole lot more you don’t. Also cat pictures. LOTS of cat pictures.
So, I love googling the interwebs because I’ve learned so much more about my ailments than I ever would have known in the pre-internet days. At least without significant effort on my part. It’s not that I’m lazy about gaining knowledge; I simply see it as inefficient, and it’s hard to do when at your worst you have a pretty bad case of agoraphobia. (Not to be confused with aGorophobia, wherein you have a fear of a giant 4 armed dude from Mortal Kombat.)
I’ve discovered so many links in things I’ve done and how I’ve felt to my bipolary-ism. Things I never realized were related. Things I did as a child that make so much more sense now.
For instance, dreaming. I’ve always had odd, long, detailed dreams, and I remember them far more often than most people do from what I can tell. Only recently (Within the past couple years; that’s all “recent” to me.) did I learn that it’s more than likely as much a part of my diagnosis as the emotional rollercoaster I ride. It also explains why I feel tired even after sleeping for what seems like forever.
Depression and Dreaming
How the link between REM sleep and depression affects the treatment of Bipolar Disorder
The Science of Sleep: Dreaming, Depression, and How REM Sleep Regulates Negative Emotions
I get phases where I’m clumsy as all hell. Everything trips. My words trip, my hands trip, my feet trip, I randomly lose my balance. Good times. I never thought it could be connected to my bipolariness.
Posture Control in Bipolar Disorder
I’m forgetful… and indecisive, more traits that good old bipolar either causes or exacerbates. All those times as a kid when I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to eat or wanted to do…
Indecision – An Arduous Bipolar Symptom
Bipolar Disorder and Memory Loss
So the other day, I was chatting as I am wont to do in those rare times when I’m feeling social. I enjoy the ability to talk and then if I get overwhelmed I can just scoot away, close my laptop, or whatever. It gives me the interaction we all crave without the, “Oh shit what if I get stuck here and my mood flips and I’m stuck looking and sounding like an asshole? Or I panic for no damned reason and turn into Derp Supreme?!.” And at least when chatting online, I have the opportunity to delete shit before I actually spout it. Though, to be honest, I rarely delete said shit, I’m rather stream of thought when it comes to how I communicate. Of course, with blog entries and whatnot, I will go in and edit, but the edits are minimal and usually only for typos and when my brain tells me a better word would fit than the one I originally thought of. Or I read it and it makes no damned sense.
See? This is why when I’m trying to tell you about a specific subject I tell you all this other crap as well.
Anyway, I was saying how there are certain pieces I’ve done, that still amaze me, that I still have a hard time believing I made them. That I still stare at and know I did it, but can’t imagine how. That I love so much that it seems someone other than myself must have done it.
Now, before you go all, “Oh stop fishing for compliments!” I want to explain that this is a good thing. I never ever want to lose that feeling. Once I lose that feeling it all becomes pointless. The wonder is gone and I’m left with… work.
On the other hand, I have a tendency to put off pieces that I’m really afraid I’ll mess up., which might not happen if I had the confidence to believe I’ll love everything I do and it will all be awesome. Win some, lose some I guess.
Oh and here are some more of the Gallery Glass paintings. Plus a bonus pencil drawing. You might start to sense a theme here after the rooster.
I’m not feeling very talented lately… So I’m making scales. It’s the current point of experimentation I’m at. I’m playing with my supplies so I can see what I can do with them. It seems pretty useless, but some of my best ideas happen because I’ve been testing random stuff to do/use.
I really like the way the scales are looking… they’re pretty basic at the moment, so now I’m playing with different shapes… still waiting on them to dry though, so I don’t have any of the new ones to show you.
I am in the midst of making a swirly betta out of scales. I’m sort of stuck though, I’m not sure how to arrange the scales around the side fin and the head. So instead of getting anything done, I stare at it for endless amounts of time. Eventually I’ll figure it out, but I sort of have to let it come on it’s own. Very irritating in the meantime. And a self-feeding irritation at that. The more irritated I get, the less I’m able to do; the less I’m able to do, the more irritated I get. It’s a perpetual motion machine of annoyance.