It just doesn’t go away does it?
I am having a little difficulty talking about me. Huh? This gal whose 12th grade picture in the year book had a quote under it. “speech is a picture of her mind”.. or some such thing. I was a chatty Kathy back then and those who know me now suffer a bit, I am still a chatty Kathy.
I hold a two degree in Library Technologies from 1997 and have always been one who is pro using all kinds of methods of communications, from satellite to crayons, books to music to prayer all for the purpose showing all there is about the world around us.
The electronic forms really are my love though although I am what others tell me is being musically inclined. I love to play music. Harmonica is my choice but now I am limited to my guitar. Something I lost sometime between now and 1995 and have since replaced just a little while back and it feels great to hold her in my hands again.
This is the only formal schooling I’ve had, the rest was by the seat of the pants, driven by passion as my teachers.
In 1975, at the age of 20 I was first diagnosed with what was then called Manic Depression I was so sick, the Thorazine flowed in my veins, the Lithium caused me much discomfort with vomiting and trembling not to mention I was in the first months of a pregnancy as the Stelazine and Artane was added.
I lost my only child I ever had an opportunity to bring into this world. My anger at this illness is very deep seated. Some days I feel the pain a great deal more than I ever truly realized I would.
Eventually they said I was okay, the drugs removed and I went along my merry way. No one told me mental illness doesn’t just go away. 20 years later, years of hard drinking I put the bottle down. It was my personal desire, and choice to quit. This made all the difference in the world for me. It is mine, I am the owner of it. 18 years later I am sober but I always keep an eye on that monster to slay it before it enters my life again.
Boy did the disease rear its ugly head after I threw that last bottle against the concrete. Only now it was called Bipolar.
My travels are interesting. I am a whole, I consist of lots of things to make me who I am. A motorcycle enthusiast, musician, website designer, repair computers and just now learning to write and will be starting with a Creativity and Writing coach next week as I write this.
The only boundaries I acknowledge exist are our self-imposed ones. Since I built them, I can tear them down.