How often are you ‘in your head’? If you like the color purple, prefer paper bags to plastic at the grocery store, and don’t like getting water in your ears, you, like me, are often in your head! (At least that’s what Buzzfeed would deduce). I’m so much so in my head, that it seemed a valid hypothesis of Chris’ as to why I never remember how to get anywhere we’ve been a thousand times. I’m not ‘paying attention’ as well as other absent-minded habits I have. I was so much in my head tonight, that I finally got out of bed and decided now was the time to blog for the week.
Christmas last year made me want to throw up. When I was younger people used to talk about how dysfunctional their families were and I felt bad for them. Mine was great. I looked forward to holidays. Now thinking about getting together with my mom’s side of the family is something I dread. My cousins are SO different now than when we were growing up. We have hardly anything in common and pretty much talk only on Christmas these days. I’m going to make the effort to text them this week, try to spark conversation, and hopefully remedy some of that break in social tension. At least it’s tense for me. I hate the fact that all we do is exchange presents and watch each other bicker with our respected siblings. My Asperger’s sister got so wound up with me for some tiny thing I said that I can’t even remember that she pretty much said the only thing she said all night which was to bash me in a rage. After that everyone was silent, and we didn’t really pick up the mood because we had no games to play. I felt like crying. The only ‘good’ part of Christmas is the morning of that I spend with my immediate family. I’d best cherish this Christmas, for it’ll be my last as an undergraduate college student.
You read right. I’ll be graduating Fall 2015! It’s much later than I’ve wanted to have graduated, but having the fog of not knowing if there was anything I was missing lifted from my shoulders, I feel so much better about it. I spent the past year and a half avoiding talking to my adviser in the department. I was terrified to see him and it ended up being no big deal after all. In fact, it was a pleasure. I only need one more class to graduate, which will take one semester. The thing that’s pushing graduation two semesters instead of one is that I need to complete my Capstone project. Everyone in the department needs to complete one before graduating. There are a few options, but Dr. F (my adviser, and the only currently working clinical psychologist in the department), knowing my ‘condition’ and anxieties recommended me do the independent study. Not only do I get to work independently, but I get to work with Dr. F, who everyone wants to work with. He’s always booked with max students he can mentor for their projects. He’s doing me such an honor by taking me on and instead of making me wait until Fall to begin my project (which is when I’m officially in a time slot to work with him for) he’s having me start in the Spring which will prevent me from taking yet another semester to graduate. I’m thrilled. Because his field of study is abnormal psychology, I get to pick something in that realm I’m interested in. (Bipolar Disorder anyone!?) To make things all the more relieving, I don’t have to think about a project proposal until the Spring semester starts. I’m going to work my ass off to ace my one class, and impress the board with my independent study. That’s the official plan.
Announcing my excitement wasn’t the only thing I wanted to bring up in this post. Remember earlier in this post when I mentioned about throwing up? I did that two nights ago after going out with Chris (and meeting our friend and his date) who had free tickets to a concert. It urged me to pose the question to my fellow bipolar peers, how much can you drink? This is a more complicated question than it sounds and it started the year I was diagnosed. My boyfriend at the time said that an ex girlfriend of his was bipolar and could either out-drink anyone who came her way and not get drunk, or after a glass of wine be plastered. I feel like that’s the same for me. I had four shots of vodka, an IPA and a quarter of some wheat beer and didn’t feel a thing. No buzz, no loosening up, it was a waste of money and for that I’m glad that I didn’t pay for most of it, and I feel bad that I didn’t pay for most of it too in that regard. I never know what to expect when it comes to drinking anymore. I had an okay time, but was as I usually am, stuck in my head.
One of the things I was stuck in my head about was a very brief conversation piece I had with Chris on the way home. To make a long story short we have a very long history of dating, not dating, helping each other get through the mud of life, and right now he’s in no mood to be in a relationship with anyone. I’ve been in love with him for years, and see myself being alone if I don’t end up marrying him. If he were to get married I’d never speak with him again, to be frank. As long as I love him, he’ll be the only person I want to be with. I’m short-sighted I suppose you could say. I already can read your mind that you’ve been through this as well and I’ll be surprised to find someone else. No worries, I know it’s not an impossibility. I’m just speaking in the moment and the past several years of momentary feeling.
That being said, it brings us to our conversation. I told him something I was thinking about for months now. If he and I aren’t together as a couple or married by the time I’m 36 I’d like him to donate his sperm to me so I can be artificially inseminated with it and have the baby I’d love to have. He thinks I’m crazy and he won’t do it. I don’t blame him, but still it hurts to hear. It wouldn’t be the same having some stranger’s baby I pick out of a book. My mom was 37 when she had me. I always thought that was old and made me sad because I felt like my peers would all have more time with their mothers who had them when they were younger. That I’d be shorted precious time, but that’s pretty much a realistic cut off age if I want children. I can live without them, but I’m such a mom at heart truly. I mean I’m also a six-year-old at heart, but I guess that’s the goofy balance I’m meant to have. I love and adore the children I nanny for and wish I had my own children to spoil and teach and watch grow. It’s selfish as well I know. For me, I wouldn’t care if Chris wanted any parental responsibility and he’d have no reason to assist financially, but in the end its half his child. Oh well, it’s just something that’s been chewing on my heart for a bit.
Ahh, hopefully now I can sleep. Tomorrow I need to do my job search, pick up my thyroid medication and reply to blog responses from last week. I promise to do my best to accomplish all of those things! I always feel vastly accomplished when I do manage to complete the tasks for the day no matter how menial they are. I recommend making a check list mentally or physically for the day and crossing things off as you go. It’s helped me a lot.
You’d all best be doing fantastically today WordPress family, or I’ll come looking for ya!