Hate Crimes

When you think of a hate crime, what is the first thing you think of? Most people will tell you that it is a racial issue: someone who is beaten or killed just because of their race. Because this country is largely homophobic, most would never consider including the gay population as a group that would fall under this domain. There have been many states that have adopted hate crimes into legislation, but almost all have fallen short of including lesbians, gay men, bi-sexuals or transgendered persons under the bill decrying that this population doesn’t deserve special rights. Excuse me, but have we missed the boat here? Is murder or a heinous beating lessened just because they belong to the broad queer community? Think about it.

Forgetting and Remembering

My history haunts me
Like a bad dream repeating
I’m tired of all of the reminders
Of things I’d just as soon forget

It doesn’t take much
To spark a rather forgotten memory
How long must I be reminded
Of what I’d just as soon forget

Just when I think I’ve made progress
I get hit with a spark of the past
The pain, the injustice, the sadness
Of what I’d just as soon forget

There are days that are better than most
And thankfully there are more than not
But soon the recollection sneaks in
Of what I just as soon forget

Then there are times when it’s all I feel
The isolation, the desertion, the failure
The pain is fresh like it happened yesterday
Of what I’d just as soon forget

I have to trust that time heals all wounds
And, as time goes by, I’ve created a new life
One of hopes and promises and a future
Of what I’d just as soon remember
©2007

Soaring Prisms

Kites floating in the summer skies
Flirting with the clouds above
Their color prisms among the heavens
As they find themselves flying higher and higher

It’s fun to watch the little kids efforts
Determined to harness the breezy fuel
Running top throttle in hopes of success
Only to find it stuck in the sand

What joy to see expressions of delight
When, all at once, they realize their efforts
And squeal with amusement in their victory
And watch their kites play dodge ball together

What freedom and abandon these toys create
As they craftily attempt the aerial maneuvers
If only our lives could enjoy this independence
Instead of, at times, being stuck in the sand

A lesson to be learned is to give it your all
Living life with a passion that knows no end
This lesson comes with risks, not many are willing
But to practice this fervor will result with such glee
©2007

A Day in the Life

The day starts out with a hush
The moon is high and the birds are still
Yet, I feel this gentle stirring in my heart
It’s God welcoming me to a brand new day

I fall down to my knees in reverence
His presence is all-encompassing
What a joy it is to receive
A wake-up call from my Father

The sun migrates onto the horizon
As His Spirit burns brightly inside
Amazing to be called His own
What a team we’ll make today

Too soon the morning grind begins
Phone calls, emails, meetings and chatter
Yet I still carry deep within me
God’s glorious presence and grace

At lunch I marvel at His majesty
The splendor of the massive trees
The kaleidoscope of a flower garden
My name is written on His hand

The day is winding down
As many people rush home
But when all is said and done
I want to be that good and faithful servant
©2007

Calloused Knees

Each night this child is on her knees
Praying to God in thanks for another day
Her mother is there kneeling with her
This is their bedtime story each night

In the early morning’s hour she hears her voice
In her mother’s room on her knees praising God
She slips right next to her quietly
And gets on her little knees to join her voice

They prayed together every morning and night
It was their tradition they shared
No matter what was going on in their lives
Nothing could separate them from this time together

The little girl was older now in a home of her own
But she knew she was still sharing with her mom,
A thousand miles away, of spending that precious time
Together on their knees before God

The once little girl now had a daughter of her own
Every night she’d kneel by the cradle and pray
Knowing that, across the country, her mother was, too
When she’d close her eyes, she could feel her mother’s presence

When the baby grew older and had her own bed
Her mother began to teach her to pray
And explained what a glorious God they served
And one night the little girl asked Jesus into her heart

This tradition continued: mother and daughter together
Every morning praising God for all His glory and grace
And every evening thanking Him for all He had given
What a site to behold from generation to generation

Years later on one of their many trips to Grandma
They were on their knees at her bedside while she was dying
Then, at once, they both reached up to Grandma’s knees
And asked God to safely bring her home
©2007

The Golf Game

Living your life is a lot like playing a game of golf. God would love it if we were to tee off our day with strength and confidence through Him. We have that ability when we are in God’s word before the day ever starts and have that “alone time” with Him with fervent prayer.

God also wants us to choose the narrow path of righteousness, so let Him order your steps as you drive your ball straight down the fairway. Don’t look to the world for answers, or seek its advice, otherwise you may find yourself in the rough along the tree line. You might find yourself tempted to take the easy way out by cheating to give yourself a better lie. Christians today must strive to keep their lives pure, refusing the sinful allurements of the world around them to compromise their life

Be careful here because bunkers are sure to abound. Not all sand shots are impossible. Some may be right on the lip requiring a mere chip shot onto the green, while others may be buried right in the middle surrounded by huge barriers. Balls in the sand are almost like our sins. A lot of people might construe this analogy that the one on the edge is a little sin and the one buried in the middle is a big sin. But God doesn’t see it that way. To Him, all sins are the same—none worse that the other. More easily said is disobedience of any kind is still disobedience.

The bunker offers another view of our perception of sin. Perhaps we don’t realize that the easy chip shot onto the green is even a sin at all. This is when we are most vulnerable to the enemy’s attack. After a while, these “little sins” may become common everyday occurrences and we don’t even realize we are sinning. That is why we must ask God to help us search our hearts for all sins in our lives. On the other hand, you may say that it’s obvious that the ball stuck in the middle is a “big sin,” one easily identifiable. But this, too, can be a weapon of the enemy. We may be lulled into the sense of “what’s the use” because we have sinned so greatly, how could God ever forgive us. That’s exactly what the enemy wants us to believe—that we are unworthy of God’s love and forgiveness and lose sight of the greatest act of forgiveness at Mount Calvary.

Not all holes are par 3s. Some require greater effort at sticking to the straight and narrow. And, every now and then a few blessings along the way surround us with a birdie here and an eagle there. Those are our successful steps forward. But life isn’t laid out so neatly. A nice dogleg to the left may leave you with a bogey or two, but part of living our lives comes with risks, and with risks we sometimes experience some steps backward.

So, we are down to two choices. We can be handicapped with God’s incredible grace, or the beguiling nature of the enemy. The old adage of “it’s not winning or losing that matters; it’s how you play the game” comes here into play. Is your life’s game on par with His plans for your life?©2007

The Beauty From the Heavens

Rainbows are promises from God
At first that he would never flood the earth
But it also brings hope
When He walks us through the storms
The promise of victory to be realized

Think of the enormous beauty of the colors
A true prism of anticipation
That the power of God is still in our lives
To hold us tight through the tough times we endure
A positive sign that He provides for relief

For rainbows to occur, the sun must emerge from the clouds
What a testimony and symbolism of the one true Son
To deliver us of the tempests we undergo
A reminder of the knowledge that we are never alone
The Lord knows those who belong to Him

So, when the gale force winds swirl around us
Remember He who guarantees His presence
Take solace for the dark clouds will soon pass
His timetable may not always be ours
But when He delivers He is right on time

Look for the magical arc of that splash of trust
Life up your eyes to acknowledge His greatness
Fall to your knees to truly worship His magnitude
Endless as the seas of this world
He alone is worthy of our praise
©2007

The Sailboat of Hope

Confessions are good for the soul
Absolution of sins that have been made
She leaves with the promise of hope
And faces the day with no fear

Alive with the thoughts of her future
A slate that has been wiped clean from her past
With no where to go to begin
She sets sail to her new destination

A new beginning to forge
Unsure of her new-found awareness
She unfurls the sails of her history
As the wind blows it all away

The expectation of her new freedom to live
The shackles break free from her life
That once filled her presence with fright
And smothered her being with despair

The air is filled with a promise
The chance to discover herself
Hesitant to look all that closely
Of what she might find staring back

The reflection is made perfect in purity
The eyes grow with an anticipation
Her new life is about to begin
As she sets sail to her unknown existence
©2007

The Absence of Being

Tension fills the still air
The cigarette left unattended
Smoke fills the sterile clean room
The coffee grows cold in its cup

The woman sits all alone
Unaware of her own surroundings
Left to her own devices
She absorbs the thoughts in her head

No where to go
No one to see
She’s left all alone
With no one to help

Emotions abound to process
Too many to cleanly develop
Overwhelmed by the flood that washes
And coursing through her maddening mind

She looks for answers to come
And discovers there are none to be found
She sits there and ponders her life
She’s immune to the outside world

She desperately seeks the reality
Trapped by the pieces in her brain
She lights yet another cigarette
And drinks from the cold bitter coffee

Nothing to stare at before her
Blank walls fill the entire room
The quiet cannot stop the madness
That fuels her desolate space

She gets up to open the door
To the world that has nothing to offer
She stares at the blank cloudless sky
With hopes of a future to come
©2007

The Brewing Storm

The electrical storm brews in the air
The flash of piercing light slashes the dark
The clash of roaring thunder screams through the silence
The pouring water rinses clean the air

Then the atmosphere quiets the earth
The sun begins its ascent for another day
The birds all chirp in unison
What will this new dawn bring

The earthworms struggle to the surface
As I scratch to find my way up
Too soon the brilliance scorches these creatures
Burnt upon the hardness of the cement

I rise with hopes of a new future
Bright with promise of a new beginning
One that brings its guarantee of peace
A stillness within my heart

The power of the past that haunts me
Its presence grows far from my spirit
The memories fade in the distance
The pain erased from my soul
©2007

The State of Balance

Mania: a wild and violent insanity
Fifty percent of the component of bipolar
It’s what drives our creative forces

Depression: A pathological state of despair
The other fifty-percent component of bipolar
It’s what drives us to the utter brink of destruction

Balance: a state of equilibrium
Do you know what that means to a bipolar patient?
It is the very nature for which we attempt to strive

Balance is a very elusive element in the bipolar world
It can exist for brief moments in time
Or it can last for as long as a few months

Everything is contingent upon the medicine
A highly refined cocktail, precariously metered
In hopes that it is that magical touch

If you’re lucky, you’ve found that sought-after mixture
Even if it means that it becomes your ball and chain
For bipolar patients, the choice is which drugs, not if drugs

Medicines become the way of life
Ideally one can be reduced to one maintenance drug
However, at times, a combination may have to suffice

The side-effects can be debilitating, but carefully weighed, a solution
Most cocktails are written off-label
The majority used as mood stabilizers are often, in fact, for anti-seizures

The need for life-long medication is disheartening
There is no known cure for this condition
At best, one can be at peace with herself

There is a catch-22: the state of mania can be addictive
Because it does allow for creativity
We miss that element when we are in balance

I wish I could be balanced with a touch of mania
I love my creative side; it propels my juices to flow
But you can’t have your cake and eat it too

I never miss the depression; it’s far more than merely a bad hair day
Its very nature is destructive by definition
And often can be life-threatening at worst

The wildest state is the mixed-phase dilemma
Being manic and depressed at the same time
Going for days without sleep, yet wishing for each day to be your last

So, in the end, being balanced becomes a trade-off
The creativity is stifled, yet you strive to live for yet another day
In any event, being bipolar becomes an art form in which to survive.
©2007

An Empty Tank?

Why can’t I forget her?
A relationship that lasted merely one year
One that began to sour after six months
I wanted out but didn’t know how

The beginning and middle were filled with wonderful memories
The latter half with bitter resentment on my part
The betrayal I felt when I gave all that I had
And was given but little in return

Everything around me recalls this past
A full moon, a weather report, items that just jump out of the air
It has been over one year since the “divorce”
How much time must I endure these reminders?

The focus of the memories are negative
I concentrate more on the ending of the relationship
Very abrupt and mean-spirited on her part
I was kicked to the curb in one fell swoop

The emotions of anger and resentment mostly have faded
I wish the recollection of her presence would just disappear
I feel as though my engine is in neutral and I am going nowhere
And want so much to move forward with my life

Yes, there are stretches of time when I don’t think of her at all
I wish those stretches would become more the norm than not
What’s most confounding is that, for some time there was no recollection
Only recently has it resurfaced with a bang

I want so much for the peace and solitude that I have
Not be interrupted with memories of this past
I was enjoying my seclusion, my entombment from the world
What must I do to heal this wound?

I would like to believe that, with more time, the separation will grow
That there will be a greater disconnection from these memories
But for the time being I am flooded with reminders
Ones I’d just as soon forget

Am I being honest with myself and my emotions?
Have I truly not let go of the painful hurt that she has caused?
I want so desperately to be able to look upon the past
As a simple exercise in poor judgment and let it go at that

There have been no other relationships to supplant these intrusions
I have no desire to even entertain this as an option
I feel this season of solitude had been a gift
Until her still-felt presence continues to announce itself

So, in the meantime my thoughts are interrupted
My emotions are not so much in check
I just want what I had before this occurrence
Considering I initially was the one that wanted out

I was unprepared for the wrathful execution
As much as I desired the ultimate separation
The manner in which it was delivered
Was cruel and inhumane, more than I thought possible

Will more time begin to finally heal my heart?
All I ask is that any memory be fleeting at best
Because I gave to her all that I had within me
Perhaps I am just waiting for my tank to refill
©2007

A Pharmacological Dilemma

I feel as though I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. As you know, my psychiatrist added Zyprexa to my cocktail with the intent of trying to wean me off several of my bipolar meds with the hopes of me being successful with one maintenance drug (Lamictal). Lamictal had worked in the past before my bipolar reared its ugly head and I spiraled out of control. However, the Zyprexa has had a major impact on me in that I have gained 25 pounds in two months (it’s widely known that Zyprexa can be a real weight-gainer).

Zyprexa has really had a positive affect on me. I feel I’ve reached a very balanced state. However, at the cost of the weight gain I want to be weaned off that drug. So, my doctor has mentioned adding either Metformin or Phenteramine as a short-term solution to inhibit the weight gain. The Metformin acts on the insulin-producing hormone, while the latter addresses my increased appetite. I am inclined to go with the Phenteramine because it does address my major side-effect of increased appetite. I just feel I am trading off one drug for another. But I really hate the idea of coming off the Zyprexa since it has had such a wonderful impact on my emotional balance.

I don’t know what to do at this stage. I would welcome any feedback from someone who has walked in these shoes.

Utter Confusion

Once I found solace in my work routine
An opportunity to escape from the isolation at home
But the seclusion from home is carrying over to the office
My door stays shut and spurns all spontaneous pop-ins

The customary workload has not changed
But the depression is not alleviated by the focus
The lines between home and work has become blurred
I fear the impact this will have on my performance

This depression has become the driving force of my day
I can’t help but wonder if it’s in the weaning from Zyprexa
But this drug’s propensity to cause me to gain weight
Has become an equally driving force to be taken off the drug

It’s been a frustrating road to travel
The drug, especially at the higher dosages, proved reliable
As I continue the weaning process, I see a marked decrease in my stability
And I am left with quite a quandary as to the best treatment

This lack of interest in my time focused on my career
I fear will carry over to my overall effectiveness
I am so drained by battling this itinerate depression
A depression that is becoming more the norm

I listen to others’ advice in combating the seclusion
But all of the offerings require energy levels that cannot be summoned
Instead of looking forward to coming into the office to escape the trappings of home
I instead prefer the desolation experienced at home—a familiar territory that exists

Will my bipolar ever come under control?
Am I doomed to be classified as treatment-resistant?
It has often been said that I never do anything half-assed
So why should this experience be any different?

I am grateful I have a door to shut in my office
Passersby are less inclined to pop in with the commonplace news bites
I find myself leaving my headset on to deter the would-be drop-ins
Leaving the impression that I am occupied on the phone

I’ve become the clock-watcher all of a sudden
Eagerly looking forward to the forlorn environment of my home
At least here, there is a comfort zone that is all too familiar
Despite the fact that the environment is far more bleak

When forced to attend social gatherings lest I appear noncommittal
I have become the master of the great façade
Where, once at church I decided to be real without the mask
Even there I find the ease to retreat inward

I’ve been informed that God works on his own timetable
And encouraged that when the time is right, He is always on time
But I grow weary of all the distractions that bring me down
What is considered “Right on Time”?

And it isn’t always circumstances that spawn the depression
I can wake up after a night’s rest and only want to stay curled up in my fetal position
It is most difficult to have nothing to blame the despair
What was once an ephemeral occurrence has become the norm

I wish wholeheartedly that Zyprexa was not such a weight-gainer
But after losing 250 pounds I am unwilling to give any ground
It’s enough that I’ve gained 25 pounds in an eight-week period
Which just fuels the depression with an incendiary force

Along with the depression I’ve managed to entertain the mania once again
Hence my ability to be creative once again with my words
To the world these poems my appear weak and without form
But it is I who derives the benefit from such expression

I am not tottering on the brink of suicide, at least at the moment
My focal point has been isolation and introspection
It is within this self-inventory that further feeds my segregation
A vicious cycle I am doomed to repeat relentlessly

In a perfect world, I would never need to leave my house
I would be devoid of all human contact that only drains my energy
The internet has opened up sufficient portals to conduct all my business
Even contact with the outside world, but at my choosing

I have one fatal conundrum that conflicts with all that I have expressed here
I am realizing that I do not want to have to face the rest of my life without companionship
A partner that I am equal to that can share my innermost self
However, with this self-imposed seclusion, chances are slim to none

I have been out of the closet for more years than in
I’ve enjoyed a rich life replete with partners that complemented my life
However, with the outrageous and heart wrenching end of the most recent
I sought solace wherever I could find it

For a while I forged this relationship with God
And came upon a peace I had yet to experience
But this was the same time my bipolar meds were most efficient
So, what was the source of this peace—God or the cocktail?

So, just who exactly am I at this given moment?
An answer as elusive as a butterfly’s dance
Will I ever know who I am, and if I did, would I like what I see?
Only time will tell—a concept and reality that I have in abundance.
©2007

My Castle Without a Drawbridge

The pain I feel is visceral
It tears at the very fabric of my heart
The loneliness has crept in and surrounded me
Before I had the chance to even sense its presence

The choices I have made for my life
Have always been dictated by some outside force
And in the end I’ve been left holding the bag
While the world spins around me without me

I keep telling myself that I want to be alone
When in fact that couldn’t be further from the truth
The human animal was never designed for isolation
But those are the cards I have been dealt

I am not living my life; I sit on the curb watching it spin around me
I want off this merry-go-round façade that everything is fine
It’s not and I’m too afraid to admit that to myself
If I speak the truth to myself, then all of a sudden it becomes real

I lie in wait of something to come by
Anything that will break me out of this mold
I grow weary of this lie that I call my life
When I can’t even orchestrate its finale

I am tired of being alone
And angry at the choices that put me here
I’ve been forced from the very heart of who I am
For reasons that no longer make any sense

So, in the end I am without companionship
No one to share with who I really am
Instead, I am locked away in this loneliness
My life in a castle without a drawbridge ©2007

My 50th Surprise Birthday Party!!

I had a fabulous 50th birthday. For the first time in my life I had some folks from my home church throw a surprise party for me, and I never had an inkling. When I walked into that room and everyone yelled “SURPRISE,” I was completely taken aback. I wanted to share some of the photos with everyone to show what a truly wonderful job they did. This, indeed, made my 50th birthday one I will always remember.

A lot of planning went on beforehand as you can see from the party invitation above. They used “stealth” technology in the logistics because I live right across the street from the church and can see everything that is going on over there if I happen to be sitting on my front porch.

I literally had no clue whatsoever that they were planning this special surprise. They had the party catered and the food was scrumptious. Thankfully, they did not laden the birthday cake with fifty candles; I had a hard enough time blowing out the ones that were there (yeah, it did take me two breaths!) What a special treat for my 50th birthday!©2007

A Token of Sadness

Melancholy has set in
Its source is unknown
Its not depression, I think
Just a passage of sadness

Happy thoughts remembered
Gives pause for thought today
Where is that elusive entity
That makes me feel alive

There is much to be thankful
I must always reflect upon that
I am continually grateful
At the blessing received from above

Those thoughts alone
Help me rise to the occasion
They give me hope
For better things, indeed, to come

I am learning to separate
The depression from the sadness
A necessary lesson to manage bipolar
It’s OK to be sad when its presence is temporary

In this gloomy space I can see the light
And know that this is just a transient moment
That lightens the burden in itself
The rainbow up above brings a smile to my face
©2007

My 50th Birthday

Today is my 50th birthday. I am a half-century old. I feel as though I should take an inventory of my life to date and figure out where I am going from here. I was ticked pink at the gift my son sent to me—a 500GB external hard drive. Now I don’t have to worry about b/u’s any more. I figure doing a whole b/u once a week should be sufficient, unless there are major changes along the way. In fact, with all the blog posts I make (I save them as word files), I may just do a drag and drop of those particular files. I haven’t checked my mailbox in a while so there may be some birthday cards waiting for me.


You know, I have always been great about remembering everyone’s birthday and sending out the cards. I’ve always spent time to look for that perfect card and always try to write something personal and meaningful inside. But it’s amazing to note that, for all of the people I do send birthday cards to, I don’t usually receive back as many as I send out. For instance, and I think I’ve mentioned this in a prior post, so excuse the redundancy. Every year I send my brother and his wife a birthday card and for all the years I have sent them one, I’ve never received one in return. I just don’t understand that one. And I know he knows when my birthday is because that was what he always used to use as a combination lock code in school. My mom and older sister always send me one, but I don’t usually get one from my younger sister—sporadically at best. But I never receive them from my friends. And this is a birthday that means a lot to me. Maybe I shouldn’t pre-judge. As I’ve said, I haven’t checked my mail at the PO for a couple of days, so I honestly don’t have any idea from whom I have received cards.


My mom always includes a birthday check as her present and it has always carried the instructions that I am not to use it to pay bills. Well, the check I received at Christmas I had to; I didn’t have any choice, but, depending on how much she send this year, I may opt, no matter how much I really do need it to pay some bills, actually go out and buy something just for me. I’ve had my eye on another power tool. This is a drill intentionally meant for driving in screws, etc. It’s made by Bosch and is a relatively small profile tool. Whenever I move somewhere, there are always numerous curtain rods to hang as well as art work, I’ve used the standard screwdriver, but that gets old. I had a bit set with various heads (slotted, Phillips, hex and stars) that I could use with my drill. But I found that the drill’s torque was too much and I ended up stripping the screw. That may have been end-user failure, I’ll be the first to admit, but I have had my eye on this little gadget for quite some time. It retails for about $140 and it does not come with any bits. I’d have to buy the bits separately; I was told to buy the speed load bits that you can just drop in, and you’re good to go without having to deal with an adaptor that can impede the full use of the driver.


So, looking back on my life, what were the high points and low points that I can think of at the moment? Well, the best high point was having such a remarkable son. He turned 24 in February, and I must have done something right along the way because he has turned into a fine grown man (and I still think of his as my little boy—in fact my computer desktop image on both my laptop and desktop is a wonderful picture of him when he was two and quite innocent). Another highlight was graduating from the University with a 4.0 GPA. To make it all the way through five years of college and maintain straight As while holding down three part-time jobs and being a single mom is something of which I am very proud. And, along those same lines, being recognized by the National Geographic Society with a scholarship and a three-month internship which turned into a full-time job which I kept for a year until I wanted to move closer to where my parents lived since they were getting older. Leaving National Geographic was the hardest thing I had to do, but I don’t regret it. Landing on my feet with a good job here in Greenville, SC made it worthwhile since I am now only four hours away from Savannah where my mom lives (my father has since passed away). My two sisters also live there, so I have the opportunity to seem them, although I can truthfully say that it has been two years this August since I’ve been down for a visit. I no longer trust my car (it’s 14 years old) to make the drive, and I certainly cannot afford a new one. I’ve had my eye on that new, compact Honda Fit, but even with the good loan rate I can secure through USAA Banking, it’s would still amount to about $300 a month and I just don’t have it. I can’t afford to pay the bills I do have.


At one point I prayed that I would be blessed with the money I would need monthly to afford the new car, but that prayer has been changed to keeping my old car running safely. I know the CV joints need replacing and I need some serious brake work done, but I just don’t have the money for either of those. And I’ve developed a small oil leak and I think it’s coming from one of my seals which could spell an expensive repair. I’m afraid to bring my car into the shop to have them look at it. At what point do I invest so much money into the repairs? I was always told that if the repairs cost more than the blue book value of the car, then it’s time to get another car. I just don’t have that luxury. And the blue book value today is about $2800. So, I’m hoping my old car will just limp along for local driving.


I can’t really think of too many high points; my low points tally up a lot more. I guess one item that can fall into both lists is my history of drug abuse. I was a hardcore junkie for quite some time, and my drug of choice was shooting up speedballs, or just smack by itself. But the upside is that in May I will have been clean and sober for twenty years, so that a good thing. Back then, I smoked pot like most people smoke cigarettes. I am still very bothered by not being able to smoke a joint now and then because of stupid corporate drug tests. The last time I smoked any weed was the weekend my father-in-law passed away. My son and I went out to the side yard away from everyone else and polished off a joint of some pretty respectable grade weed. I thought it would be just my luck to get called up for a random drug test after that, but nothing ever came to fruition on that, so if I’m asked to now, I am nice and clean. And my track marks aren’t even very noticeable anymore.


Another low point was the subsequent trip to hell along with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder. That has been an on-again, off-again affair. Today and for the past few weeks I have been doing better than I ever have done before, but that is because he has put me on Zyprexa. It’s really been a great drug for me, but I’m having him taper off of it because I’ve gained 20 pounds since I’ve started it, and it is a known weight-gainer. I’m sad to see that the Zyprexa had this effect on me; I’ve realized its potential as a very productive medicine in my situation. I’m hoping that weaning me down to one Lamictal a day will be the trick and I can enjoy the same space I am in right now. I like the balance that I feel, and even though I’ve not been experiencing my creative manic highs, I’ve still been able to write, although I’ve only been inspired to write one poem since all of the mania subsided. In a perfect world, I could have some hypomania without the depression and that would be just enough to keep me creative. I really do miss my manic highs, which is a common complaint among most bipolar patients who reach a point of stasis.


And, speaking of high points, I might as well throw in my gastric bypass surgery and the resulting loss of 250 pounds. That is one heck of an accomplishment. Now you can better understand why this weight gain from Zyprexa has been so hard for me to handle.


Another rite of passage I went through that can go in both columns here is my coming out of the closet finally and the impact being a lesbian has had on my life. That has been played out in so many of my previous posts that I will not dwell so much on that here. Suffice it to say that I will always stick to the premise that being gay is not a choice someone actively makes. I do believe our sexual preference and gender identity is something hardwired from birth. Put the shoe on the other foot. Did the majority of the population wake up one morning and decide to be straight? I don’t think so. My car tag says “1 In 10” because it is presumed through Kinsey’s study that approximately 10% of the population is queer. This has been the biggest conundrum I have had to deal with my entire life, especially recently when I decided to walk away from the gay community and no longer associate myself with that life. Does that make me straight? No. It just means that I am choosing not to act on it. As I have said before, my relationship with God is more important than being queer and I cannot reconcile the two, despite how many meetings I’ve been to in the gay community that talks about what the Bible really says about homosexuality. Anyone can put their own spin on it, but I am acting upon what I feel in my heart and I’ve always had good instincts about things and usually ended up making the right decisions when I have followed my heart.


Oh, the heels of that statement was what I would consider a high point, but others would not. My arrest and subsequent jail time for assault & battery. There were three somewhat drunk rednecks that attempted to accost me outside a department store’s parking lot at close of business and made some rather un-PC comments about the bumper stickers on my car (let’s just say that to read them would leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that a radical dyke drove the car). One called me a fag and proceeded to poke his finger at my chest. I was so pissed off at this idiot for his comments that I told him I preferred the term dyke instead and proceeded to punch his lights out. Evidently, someone saw what was happening and called 911. When the first guy fell down after my punch and I had my boot heel pushed into the sternum of his chest, the other two backed off. But when the cops arrived and I backed off, before I had a chance to tell my side of the story, the guy on the ground pressed charges and the other two assholes backed him up as witnesses. When I tried to explain that I was only trying to defend myself, I was told that this would be up to the judge to decide, but that they were going to arrest me and take me downtown. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper. To make a long story short, I was given three years, but that sentence was suspended and told to do 250 hours of community service and pay for the man’s medical bills (I had broken his nose).


I am glad that I have finally reached this milestone in my life. Does this mean I can say I’ve finally grown up…LOL? I rather doubt it because I don’t feel any different from when I was 20. I guess they are right; age is a matter of mind. I guess my biggest pet peeve (already mentioned here and in a previous post) is my restriction from smoking pot. I can’t wait until the day I retire so I can get high again. I can’t drink alcohol because of the bipolar drugs and, face it, pot is no big deal. Too many pundits say that pot is the gateway drug. But I beg to disagree. I think that alcohol is more of the gateway drug than pot will ever be. OK, enough about that.


There is not much else I feel inspired to write about. There are a lot of periods where I don’t have any memories. Don’t know if that was because of the drugs or what (they say if you ever admit to being at Woodstock you never were really there because if you had been, because of all of the drugs, you’d never remember it…LOL).©2007

My Zyprexa Dilemma (and a Diatribe On Smoking Pot...Go Figure!)

It’s quite amazing the quandary I am now facing. For the first time since January of 2006 I actually feel as though I’m getting my life back. Everything seems to be balancing out the way I remembered it being so long ago when I was in remission. However, my remission is coming at a great cost to me. These little oval-shaped pills, while incredibly effective, has caused me to gain 20 pounds within a period of a month. At this rate, who knows how much I’ll weigh at the end of the six-month weaning regimen the doctor wanted to use. I told him I was willing to go back on Zyprexa under the condition that if I gained any weight I would quit taking it. In one of the videos I uploaded, there was a question posed: which would you rather have—a sane, balanced fat person, or a skinny psychopath? I think I’d rather be skinny again, not that I was ever actually skinny. But your talking to someone who worked incredibly hard to lose 250 pounds. Even a 20-pound weight increase is a depressing thought.

I am to talk with my shrink today on the phone and think I’ve finally reach a point where I am no longer willing to continue to take the Zyprexa. I will be the first to admit that this has been the one drug that has made a significant difference in my fragile state of balance. However, I fear gaining the weight even more so. In addition, the eating pattern is bizarre. I’m not eating because I am hungry and I am wrestling with an increased appetite. It’s like I’ve moved into this grazing mode where I just walk into the kitchen to see what I can eat—whether I’m hungry or not. It’s almost as if there is an oral stimulus attached (similar to problems people have faced when trying to quit smoking).

I really like how I have been feeling these past couple of weeks, even if I do miss my manic highs (which girl group of the 80s did “Manic Mondays”?). I can’t say that everything is perfect, but I am the closest I’ve been to balanced yet, and just in time for my 50th birthday this Friday. I find it absolutely ironic that I was born on 4/20…the international “smoke a joint” day. It’s a shame I don’t have any killer weed I can roll up to celebrate my 50th in style right at 4:20 pm. Life can really suck sometimes. It just kills me that I can’t get high anymore. You know, I don’t drive a forklift at my job, I don’t have to drive a van, or operate any serious machinery where I work. Why should it matter to some egg head in HR that I must pass a random drug screen? I already know what I want for my retirement gift. A QP of absolute golden buds. Thai stick would be nice, but I don’t think the kids these days even know what Thai stick is. Now, some golden hash, no, make that dark, tarry hash, would be quite nice as well. And forget the rolling papers on the killer weed. I’d only use a bong. Less waste and it packs a more powerful punch. Oh, yeah, I forget, I can’t call them “bongs” when I hit the head shops…they are referred to as ‘water pipes” no—like who is going to use them to smoke tobacco in them? Face it, anyone shopping at a head shop has only one thing on their mind…all of the accouterments of fine pot smoking (OK, I grant you, there are people that hit the head shops just to buy incense, but just a few). And, the other day when I was in one, I couldn’t believe how much “water pipes” were costing. Me? A nice ceramic pipe and some screens and I’m good to go IF it wasn’t for these stupid drug tests that I always have hanging over my head. Yeah, corporate America has it all backwards. They don’t care if you’ve got some burned-out alcoholic working for you who reeks of beer or whiskey by lunch and can’t do their job half of the time, but God forbid someone smokes a joint from time to time. OK, I’ll give the corporate dude his due as far as tweakers go, and the more hardcore junkies (one of which I was for quite some time), but cut me some slack if I just want to take a few hits off a bong now and then. And, you know what really bites—I found out from my son one day that an eight-ball of coke costs less than an ounce of some premium weed. Now that’s an insult. Hmmm—I think I have digressed from the point of this post…LOL I’ll get off my soap box now!

Anyway, I’ve made the decision to come off the Zyprexa and I hope I can shed those twenty pounds I’ve gained. I wonder what the shrink will say when I tell him this afternoon during our phone conference. I’ll be the first to admit that the Zyprexa has been the ideal drug bipolar-wise, but I’m not going to grow out of the clothes I have. We’re just going to have to come up with a new game plan.©2007

Stolen Moments

There is this still quiet silence
That falls like dew upon the grass
My manna from heaven
My mind is free of the racing thoughts
That once choked the being of my sanity

There is balance in my life
This state I do not dare to upset
While I miss my manic highs providing my creativity
I do not miss those crashing blows that always follow

I feared the worse when the mania subsided
I panicked at the potential loss of my imagination
Yet I find in this still quiet silence the words
Words to express my conscious state of being

I think I like what balance feels like
I can inhale without constriction
I can be at that place where I am one with the moment
I can be mindful of all that is around
And choose not to select the darker path

For the first time in ages I feel at home in my mind

I can look in the mirror and see the hope and possibilities
I’m not quite sure yet how to grab the brass ring
But the fact that it is there for the taking
Finally lets me exhale with peace.©2007

The Art of Prayer

This past Sunday my Pastor at Faith Worship Center preached a powerful message on the art of prayer, and it was only the first of a two-part series. I learned that there were three parts to prayer: (a) me talking with God, (b) God speaking to me, and (c) that still quiet moment of lingering in God’s presence.

For the first time in quite a while, I can experience that still, quiet moment without all of those racing thoughts thundering in my head. I can sense the Spirit of God around me as I call upon Him to be in His presence. It’s as if I am cloaked with this invisible, yet tangible layer of protection. And to know I can be in this state at all times is a pretty powerful thought. But I have to choose to be in God’s presence willingly. He will always meet us just where we are just when we need him.

But, why only desire to call upon his presence at the time of great need? Do you realize that God wants to walk with you in the cool of the morning all day long? Think of what a powerful testimony you have to others as you enjoy his presence. Sometimes, being the voice of peace and calm amidst the clamor of the moment is all it takes.

Clearly, in comparison to many of my earlier posts, I have reached a steady-state balance, which has now lasted for almost two weeks. This is due in part to another drug introduced to my cocktail with the explicit aim of weaning me down to one maintenance drug. How refreshing for me to imagine only taking one bipolar med each day. This will be a six-month process at which point we will re-evaluate my condition.

However, this gives me pause for thought analogous to the chicken or the egg dilemma: is my relationship with God finally maturing because my bipolar is coming under control, or is my balanced state the result of allowing God to work in my life? Because I believe that all things are possible with God, I am choosing to hold on to the latter.©2007

Depression & the Spirit of God

As a result of my bipolar disorder I have written extensively about how I have battled the depression side of the equation. You have also noticed how richly I speak of the Lord in many of my posts. I’ve had people challenge me by saying that if I really did believe in God, that he would heal me of this disorder and I wouldn’t have to take all of these medications.

Granted, I will be the first to tell you that I believe in divine intervention and the healing of the sick when all else has proved impossible. Why some are cured and others are not is not my place to say. But I also do not believe in fleecing God (there is a passage in the Old Testament—Judges 7:36-40—where Gideon is to be used by God to rescue Israel as He promised, he decided to test God twice. The first time he set out a layer of fleece and told God if it was wet with dew the following morning and the surrounding land was dry, he would surely know that God was going to help Gideon rescue Israel. The next morning, that is exactly what happened. But then Gideon had to see one more sign from God, despite the numerous miracles he had already seen to date, before he was willing to commit to battle and have the assurance that God would be with him. This time he requested that the fleece remain dry while the countryside was covered in dew, and this occurred as well the following morning.). I believe that if it is God’s intentions to heal me of my bipolar disorder, I will discern that within my Spirit. I am not simply going off my medications to prove anything at all. I also realize that God works mightily through doctors and medicines. So, for the time being I continue my better living through chemistry.

I believe that God has quite a lot to say in the Bible about depression, passages that I have read, but ones that I should re-read and become intimately aware of, and to assign ownership of that knowledge. Too often, I have entertained myself in a pity party, yet there have been many times when I have been in very dark spaces that were quite a dangerous playground in which to be playing. As I have postulated before, depression for me is not about having a bad hair day, but a state in which there is utter hopelessness.

It almost seems like an oxymoron to have such strong beliefs in God, yet at the same time experience this hopelessness. However, I don’t believe that, when I am in this state, I am fully aware and cognizant of the power I behold through the name of Jesus. I know that the enemy has used this state of mind to confound me and put me in very dangerous positions, positions that nearly ended my life--some fairly recently.

I believe very strongly in the words of God found in the Bible. I believe that each and every word is from God. So I should, during these moments of clarity, take advantage and see exactly what God's promises are to me in regard to my depression.

Psalm 34:17 states that “The Lord hears his people when they call to him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles”

I believe in this passage that when I cry out to the Lord, He hears me and understands exactly how I am feeling. During the years that Jesus spent on this earth as a man, he suffered the same plights that each of us must endure every day and knows intuitively what we are going through. As a result, God feels exactly what our own hearts feel. He is a tender, loving Father that wishes nothing but the best for His children. I should take joy in these words as they tell me that I am not all alone.

Isaiah 43:2 says “When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty you will not drown, when you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.”

This leads me to believe once again that I am not alone. There is nothing more disheartening when I am depressed to feel so alone in this world. It only compounds the emotional pain. This passage also reminds us that God may not necessarily remove us from the storm we are weathering, but He does promise to steadfastly be with us. With God on our side, who can be against us?

1 Peter 4:12-13 says “Dear friends, don’t be surprised at the fiery trials that you are going through, as if something strange were happening to you. Instead, be very glad—for these trials make you partners with Christ in his suffering, so that you will have the wonderful joy of seeing his glory when it is revealed to all the world.”

This isn’t to say or indicate that we should be glad for our sorrows and tribulations, but, face it, what on earth could we ever go through that could even come close to the tribulations that Christ went through just for us. I am overwhelmed at the enormity of the suffering that He allowed himself to withstand because He knew it was His Father’s will. That puts my own suffering a quite a different perspective. To be able to sing of God’s praises in the midst of the storm is perhaps one of the most moving of all testimonies

Isaiah 40:31 “But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high like wings on eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint."

This one is a little harder for me to wrap my hands around. When I am in the pits of my depression, waiting is not something I am very good at doing, but knowing what I have to look forward to on the other side is what gives me the hope to sustain that faith. This speaks directly to the strength that faith brings to each of us.

2 Cor 1:3,4: “All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort that God has given us.”

What a testimony we have for others when we have walked through the fire and have been delivered by God’s own mercy and grace. Sometimes, the only way to witness to someone else is to let them know you have walked in the very same shoes they are walking in now. Sometimes the only people we will listen to are the ones who truly do understand what we are going through because we have been there ourselves. It’s not enough to preach the Good News when people are in this space, but to get down on their level and reach out with a comforting hand is like offering a sip of cold water to someone who is parched in the desert.

Romans 8:38, 39: “And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord."

The image I have in my head when I read this scripture above is of a person hanging onto a pole for dear life while the wind is whipping all over the place and being battered by the force of the wind. I may feel battered, in fact, I may feel beat up quite badly, but knowing that nothing can ever separate me from God gives me that solace I need when everything else seems to be blowing away.

Phil 4:8: “And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honourable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.”

In other words, regardless of what our circumstances appear to be at any given moment in the depths of our despair, we know we have walked upright and righteously with the Lord at one point prior to this fall into depression and we have to hold onto those moments until we can navigate through the quicksand

Being bipolar and a mighty soldier of Christ can bring on a mixed bag of events. While we can, we have the ability to move mountains and lay claim to our heritage as being one of God’s precious children. However, as pointed out previously, there is nothing better that the enemy wants to do but divide you from your relationship with Christ. I do believe the enemy uses our own weaknesses to his own advantage, which is why we must be vigilant at all times. One of the scriptures in the Bible exhorts us to pray without ceasing. And, it is in these darkest of moments when I have to be able to reach out to God and grab on and not let go, knowing He is right there by my side.

I have to decide now whether I have the spiritual courage to be that mature Soldier of Christ and take ownership of all of God’s promises, or do I stay in this safe little corner hiding until the next round of depression comes upon me and become a spineless creature susceptible to all of the enemy’s efforts at weakening my defenses? A lot of this is easy for me to say these things right now as I am not in the pits of despair, but all the more reason for writing this down so I have this to go back to and read when I need it the most.

Do I wish I could be cured of my bipolar disorder? Of course I do. I hate the thought of knowing I have to depend upon medications for the rest of my life in order to maintain my sanity. However, I look to what I have been given as a child of God which makes all things of this world pale in comparison. None of us are promised a burden-free life. It is our responsibility to handle what is thrown our way. So, which path will you walk down where the rubber meets the road? I would like to think that I have matured in my walk with the Lord, even if only a little bit, that will give me so much more strength for when the times come for me to draw upon that strength.©2007