A wee hours of the morning post.

Contrary to all well laid plans, I promptly fell asleep on the comfortable sofa last night at about 8 o'clock. I was fully dressed and just sort of toppled over sideways, but I don't actually remember a darn thing about it. It was a spontaneous sleep attack that struck me like a super bolt of lightening. It was an instantaneous case of falling soundly asleep and nothing could have stopped it.

It was very late when I woke up again and all the lights were burning brightly and the blinds were still open to the dark night and the TV was on. I changed into my comfortable pajamas and put my warm gray cardigan on to keep me from feeling chilled and took all of my medication, including my sleeping pill. I figured I would sit behind the trusty computer for about 20 minutes and be sound asleep in no time.

Well, several hours have passed and I am still stubbornly sitting behind the computer and I don't have a sleepy bone in my alert body yet. I must have a very strong constitution if I can defy a strong sleeping pill. Of course, I used to take them during the day to help me calm down, so I'm used to quite a large dose of them. I'm like a wild animal that needs an extra load of strong drugs to help put it into a deep sleep.

Instead of soundly sleeping, I'm trying to pay extra attention to my writing and trying to follow the exact rules of it. That means I write and read and edit, which is not something I normally do, but I have plenty of time for it now. I've made changes in every sentence I've typed, except this one. I don't have an education in writing literature and I don't know anything about grammar. All I know is what I've learned from reading many good novels. I'm an autodidact and writing in a second language (not the language of my childhood, and not the language I speak during the day).

In a little while, I'm going to do some painting and drawing. The Exfactor brought me another box of acrylic paints and he didn't want me to repay him for them. I though that was awfully kind of him. He does like to do me small favors like that and I appreciate them and let him know that too. I don't get all gushy, but thank him man to man, the way he can handle it.

Anyway, I'm going to do some painting and drawing and I think I have one that I have to finish still and I will start on a new one. I really want to make a real doodle, one that is completely abstract and that does not depict anything but shapes and forms, but somehow will look like something organic that is alive and could have come out of nature. Something like Sue's Doodles here. You have to have a lot of imagination and free association to be able to draw something like that and I am going to give it a try. It will be a test to see how loose I am in my artistic abilities to just let something emerge without forcing it to.

I have creative therapy again today and I don't know yet what I will do there. Several options are running through my head. I may just ask the therapist to give me an assigment. That way I will end up doing something I haven't done before. Which would be the smartest thing to do, of course. I am there to learn, after all, and to pick her brain, but I also have ideas of my own that I want to try out, so it's a toss up.

The things that have fallen completely by the wayside are the chores, but I'm not really concerned about them, because they will wait for me until tomorrow when I have the whole day off. I have to do the grocery shopping this afternoon and I'm not looking forward to that one bit. For some reason that causes me to feel stress and I don't like it. I'm trying to work my way around it and to figure out what the problem is exactly, but all I can come up with is a general unease about the whole thing and wanting to put it off indefinitely.

I think I feel very uncomfortable on my bike with it loaded down with all the groceries, but that's not the whole reason. There's more to it than that. I think that I don't feel entitled to be on the street and in the store and I'm afraid that someone will approach me and challenge my presence there, as if I'm not allowed to be there. As if I am a secondary citizen who doesn't have any rights and who so far is getting away with stuff, because she hasn't been caught yet. That's how it feels to be a person with a mental disability in a "normal" world.

Well, with that big confession I leave you. I must go draw and paint.

Have a good day once you wake up and find this. Feel free to share your thoughts with me.

Ciao,
Nora

Oops!

I got up real early this morning and thought I was done sleeping and made myself a cup of coffee and turned on the computer. In a very short time, however, it turned out I wasn't done sleeping at all and I had to hurry back to bed and very comfortably crawl under the duvet and in a few seconds I was sound asleep again. In a deep sleep, as a matter of fact, so that I missed my appointment with my SPN at 9 am. I woke up with a shock at 9:10 and realized I was too late and very quickly called the clinic where I heard that she was looking for me. I got her on the phone and we made a new appointment for tomorrow afternoon at 2 pm.

I think from now on I will make all my appointments for in the afternoons. I have too much of a hard time waking up in the morning many mornings. I even have been known to sleep through the beeping of the alarm clock and it will stop after awhile if you don't react to it. Either that, or I turn it off in my sleep and keep right on sleeping. My son used to be the same way. You could blow a fog horn beside his head and he would still keep on sleeping.

At least I'm properly awake now, there's no doubt about it, and I'm having a nice cup of coffee. Jesker is still asleep in the bedroom and so are the cats.

I'm doing better today, though I have a bit of a mental hangover from yesterday. I can't believe how bad yesterday morning was and I'm surprised at my own reaction and behavior. I thought I was a lot tougher than that and I am shocked that I am not.

What does this mean for me when I have to go make it in the real world? I have instructions now from my psychiatrist on how to deal better with situations like this, but I'm so afraid that reason will leave me and that emotion will take over and that in no time at all I will be a complete mess again, should a similar situation arise in which I am challenged to my limits. It's a horrible feeling to think you are going crazy and I don't know what the consequences are if I don't somehow interfere. I'm always afraid that I'll become psychotic, because I've been on the edge of it several times.

Well, today is a new day and a new start, even though I have that bandage around my arm as a reminder and those bills that need to be paid. Shoot, I'll make it somehow. I am a survivor, after all.

There's a mouse in the kitchen closet. It must be the same mouse that was here last week. I just noticed Gandhi very intently watching the crack beneath the door and when I opened it, something scampered away very quickly. Toby is watching, but doesn't really seem all that interested. For Gandhi the hunt is on, but there are a lot of things in the closet for the mouse to hide behind. I will have to get a trap. There is dried dog food in there and no doubt that's what it's been eating. It must have been getting water from the cat's bowl that is sitting right by the door. The poor thing, living in a closet. Let's hope it's a boy mouse and not a pregnant female.

I suppose that mouse is a survivor too and if it isn't a pregnant female, I should just let it live in the closet, except that it may make forays into the kitchen and I don't want that. I'll have to pay attention for any mouse droppings.

Jesker is awake too now and is making up his mind about what he wants. He's been out back for a piddle and he'll probably want to eat next, but that thought hasn't quite penetrated his skull. He's a little slow when it comes to things like that. He's got a little bit of ADD. My son had that and I know all about how it works and how it does not. God bless the mothers of children with disabilities!

I know a little about Asperger's Syndrome and I think if my son were to have been diagnosed now, he would have gotten that diagnosis. It's a shame that we didn't get the proper help and support back then when we needed it. Everything and every school year was an uphill battle.

Well, I have to bring this to an end, because Jesker has decided that he wants to go for a walk. He was very clear about it. So you all have a very good day and enjoy the good weather and the sunshine, which we have here in abundance.

Ciao...

Where I should be.

At 7 PM I put on my pajamas and bathrobe and turned on the TV. Then I promptly fell asleep until about midnight. Now I am sitting here yawning with a mug of decaf and a cigarette, waiting to see what will happen next. Will I be sensible and go to bed, or will I be stubborn and stay up and, like my cats are doing, getting into all sorts of mischief? I think I will end up on the sofa again after a while, where I will drag myself once my sleeping pill starts working and I stop making sense.

There is nobody here to warn me if I stop making sense, though. I could be typing all sorts of nonsense and not be aware of it and push the publish button and forever make a fool out of myself...

...well, to prevent that from happening, I went back to the sofa and promptly fell asleep again until 8 AM. I think that was the most sensible thing to do. Now that I've got the heater going all the time, it is so nice and pleasant inside that it makes it very comfortable to be anywhere and to fall asleep anywhere. I'm supposed to turn it off at night, but I failed to do so last night and it has been toasty warm here and I only wore my bathrobe and didn't even need a blanket. I worry about my energy bill, yes I do.

The Überhund is snoring away by my feet and has given no inclination that he needs to go outside. Speaking of bladder control! He is most adorable when he lies by my feet this way with his head on his paws, because he looks like a stuffed animal and you just want to pick him up and kiss him all over the place. He would be mighty surprised if I did that!

The cats are sitting silently in the kitchen with a bit of an accusatory attitude, because their food dishes are empty and I am ignoring them. They have no real idea of what it is like to go hungry, because there is always food. Now they act like they are patiently suffering and it is all my fault. Some people make their cats fast one day a week, because they say that in the wild animals don't eat every day either. Well, neither do people, do they? Let them drink only water for 24 hours.

Oh goodness, today is Saturday, well, hurray! It's always a little bit festive when it is the weekend. I am officially excused from being a responsible adult. You think I am during the week too, don't you? Well, nothing could be further from the truth. I take this business called living very seriously.

The truth is that I deal in a lot of escapism, because otherwise, the weight of the world would drag me down. The gravity of it would pull me splat down to the ground, never to get up again. Therefor, I very often feel that I am playing a role in a film and that none of this is real, or that I am only a figment of someone's imagination and that all of this is a dream or a fantasy someone is having. Maybe a character named God, but not as we know him from the bible. Or her and she is rather careless and playful in a painful way. Well, maybe that is exactly as we know God from the bible. From the Old Testament.

What is reality is an interpretation, isn't it? Unless you are faced with such cruelty, that you find yourself in a nightmare that you can't get out off, where you are being held against your will. But what does my reality look like?

I live a fairly safe life and nothing really horrible is going to happen to me today. I don't face war or famine or murder or rape. The worst things that are likely to happen are the confusions that take place in my own head and they can be pleasant or unpleasant. They can change the way I interpret my reality. If that happens to be in a pleasant way, then there is very little stress that I am going to undergo and I will feel that I've had an excellent day, regardless of what happened to my fellow human beings on that particular day. My reality, or my take on it, was fine, there was no problem. If there was a problem, I saw it as a minor blip on the radar, like a mosquito that I splatted with one hand.

If the confusion in my head turns unpleasant, then that day will be experienced as a very unpleasant day and all the events that happen in it will be interpreted negatively. I will see doom and damnation and the end of the world nearby. I will see the suffering of my fellow human beings and identify strongly with them in a totally ineffective way, because I am not capable of doing anything productive. I will suffer and cry and face fear. Only because something in my head is telling me that this is how I see reality now.

So you see, what is reality is an interpretation. At least, what is my reality. If war breaks out tomorrow, we will have a common reality. At least, the Dutch people and I will have. God forbid, maybe all of us will.

Very often I live on the edge of hypomania or I am in fact hypomanic. That colors my point of view on my world. I am very grateful that I can live in this state of existence, because I know the alternative state. I couldn't have made it through the first four months of my separation if it hadn't been for the state of my hypomania. It made everything very easy. My reality was altered through rose colored glasses. When the hypomania ended, my view on my reality changed and I suddenly became a needy and sad little person before I found my balance again. Is it any wonder that I pray for a little bit of hypomania? Which reality would you rather face?

Well, I suppose I am trying to explain something very basic about myself and maybe about other people as well. I don't know how people without my particular disability go through life. I don't know how it is to live without mood changes that are as arbitrary as the November weather. I've been this way my whole life.

In the meantime, the Überhund is still laying here and not a peep out of him. I have gotten a new mug of coffee and fed the cats, but I guess he is not interested in going out. I think he is really getting old, because he sleeps so much. We make a good pair, the two of us.

There is nothing better than a fresh mug of coffee and a cigarette. All of you who don't smoke will disagree with me, but believe me, to me this is heaven.

Well, that's enough of my sermon on the mount. I've got to get the day started, whether or not the Überhund is ready. Have a great day and be good for goodness sake.

Mwah!

Internet.

I just signed up with a new Internet provider who is also going to provide me with telephone and TV service and I should save about 20 Euros a month. The good part is that I'll be getting one bill a month instead of two like I am getting now, covering different periods of time, making the whole thing less clear, which was not the deal when we signed up initially. It was supposed to be a one package deal for a much cheaper price, so I made sure that that really was the deal I was getting this time. It seems legitimate, so I'll have to put my faith in it. Keep your fingers crossed for me, please. Every penny counts. I'll have more left over to shop with, ha, ha.

I was only slightly bothered at ergo therapy this morning. Our regular therapist was ill, so we had a stand in, who was equally good and up to date on what is happening in the group. I got to do my song and dance act about having to swallow my bitter pill in order to reach my heavenly heights and that was appreciated by all. At least two people were very relieved that I was not leaving. I have no idea how the rest feels about it. I don't think they care much one way or the other, not knowing me very well yet. Two people didn't show up and one person was late and that is not appreciated very much and I am sure there is going to be an aftermath about this. Showing up and being on time is part of your responsibility.

We had an exercise to do. We had to partner up with different people and with paint claim our appointed space on a large sheet of paper and then lay claim to the shared space. I solved this by drawing a line straight across the shared space and filling everything beneath it up with paint. Other people did it by drawing pretty pictures of birds and flowers and bunny rabbits and fish, but I painted everything brown. I just wanted to lay claim to my space and my share of the shared space and not give anyone room to enter into mine. I thought brown was an ugly enough color to make that point clear to everybody. I was not in the mood to be kind and careful and considerate and giving by painting fragile and cheerful scenes.

I suppose that could be considered anti social, but it did give the other people all the room to work on their half unhindered by me, because I would not invade them.

Sometimes life's a bitch.

This happened right after the coffee break during which someone asked me why I never talked about my parents and I told her in plain language why I never did and she was very upset about it. I suppose subconsciously, I was upset about it too, although I did not give it a thought once I was done talking about it.

The Exfactor did not come by to do his laundry. He just came by to check on me and to make sure I was alright, so I could assure him that I was and I think it is all getting to be a little bit too much for him, because he had a deja vu moment during which he imagined that we already had the conversation we were having several days earlier. So, I think I need to manage better on my own. The Exfactor is not as stress resistant as we think he is.

I need to be careful who I share myself with. I don't want to overwhelm people with me. The sheer entity of who I am with all the extremes that come with it. You can't just say to a person that you were almost psychotic the other day. That's scary! Unless you are a fellow patient with a similar disability and you know the experience.

Bah humbug!

My greatest friend is the Überhund who loves me no matter what sort of a crazy mood I am in. He is always patient with me. He thinks I am just great.

Tomorrow is grocery shopping day again. It seems that it has been more than six days since I've done that last, but I can't be sure. I don't need that many things. Milk and yogurt and juice. And a treat. Yesterday, I went to the tobacco shop and I also got a Côte d'Or Chocolate bar with truffles. It was so delicious. Chocolate always puts me in a good mood. That's silly, drinking a glass of juice also puts me in a good mood, chocolate is just more decadent. Chocolate is one of those foods that should be very healthy for you to eat, like strawberries.

Last week the Exfactor brought me the last strawberries from the Paramount's garden. They weren't sweet and juicy, but crunchy like apples. Still, they tasted good and I ate them all. It was like forbidden fruit. I don't think the Paramount knew I was eating her last strawberries.

I left the house this morning without having combed my hair. When I got to my destination, I went into the ladies room and fashioned it into something halfway decent with a little bit of water. Still, I felt like carrying a sign that said, "This is not my real hair!" Or one that said, "I am much better looking in real life." Maybe people should always wear signs explaining some bit of themselves on any given day. "Excuse me, I am grumpy today. It's nothing personal."

Now I must go read some blogs or I will be banished from blogland forever.

Mwah!