Under Construction - MHWA Retreat

I tried to stop and say hi to everyone, and if I missed anyone I'm sorry.

So my intro.

I'm JS and I'm not a dude which has been an ongoing thing LOL. You can call me JS or Jayne. I was going to be all "private" about it, but I don't give much of a (can we swear in here? I don't remember). I have bipolar I (the kind that runs to manic), significant rheumatoid arthritis, and some other 'stuff'. You can read about the bipolar/rheumatoid here: "Yes, Mr J knows I'm on Here" . Short version: They feed off each other and it suuuuuucks.

RA forced me off work. I'm 41. I had just landed my dream job. I tried so flippin' hard to stay on, but crying in pain at your desk every day or trying to have a nap in your car doesn't instill much confidence from your bosses, and rightfully so since you get no important work done.

RA blows. I need help with the most basic of things, especially concerning my hands. My hands are total garbage now. I can't always shower myself. I own nothing with buttons (unless I can pull it over my head), because I can't do them up myself. No that's not true- one vest. Mr J does it up for me. I drop stuff all the time. My ligaments are affected in different spots as well, that's a whole other can of worms. Most people don't know about the extreme fatigue RA causes. Showering is enough to make you need to rest afterwards. Your concentration is garbage. I feel like I'm getting dumber by the day.

I walk with a cane and even then, can't for long (and yes, then a nap). My cane stinks and doesn't match my personality (I don't think). It's got butterflies and people like to tell me "oh my grandma has that cane". Yeah that's freaking great. A surprising number of people think it's ok to ask WHY I have a cane. I know it's because I'm young, but seriously, screw off. Sometimes, I need a walker.

Mania blows just as bad. I've likely been bipolar since I was 12 (my first major depressive episode was deemed "Mono") and I was considered a "rebellious teen". No, I was legit unmedicated and suffering from a serious mental illness. I get pretty pissed looking back, but I try to reconcile that times have changed. Many people think mania is a "high" like "fun" and "up" and sometimes that's true, but often in a very destructive way (You often have no fear, so you now, let's skydive and not pull the chute kind of thing, or you feel just so friendly you spend all your money buying rounds for the whole bar. Some people get into some awful sexual situation, I thankfully have not had that.) The other part of mania that isn't as well understood is the dark side. Superiority complexes that cause you to actually tell people they are inferior, stupid, awful people right to their faces. You can be a horrendously awful person. Massive aggression problems, sometimes physical. Dark thoughts that come from scary places. Paranoia, conspiracy theories, writing bizarre manifestos that make absolutely no sense. Detachment from reality. You know, super duper "fun".

On top of that, which I don't feel like getting much into, I hate crowds and even large groups, I am a massive germaphobe (and I believe certain people are just outright 'contaminated' after I see certain behaviours), certain sounds make me physically angry (and they're pretty basic, everyday sounds) I dislike physical affection, I cannot deal with death in a healthy manner (I say nothing, or a rote 'sorry for your loss'), I carry the guilt of being blamed for someone's alcoholism (to my face, at 15 years old), I tend not to say much of substance after being told to sit down and shut up for most of my younger life (because I was too stupid to have an opinion). If you scored a 90 on something, the response was never 'good job', it was 'were'd the 10% go?'

I was a crap student because I was 1)ill and 2) why bother if it was never good enough anyway. I did manage to get myself into university (later in life) and did quite well. Yet, I would rather lose competitions than win, because at least it was my choice to lose and therefore, I might not have sucked at whatever I was doing. I'd rather let someone win (arguments, competitions, life in general), because nobody likes the 'tall poppy'. I've been told to explore everything from 'impostor syndrome' to 'Jonah complex'. Makes no difference. No matter where you try to bury the crap from the past, it always digs itself out. Like a friggin' zombie.

Writing I enjoy bc I can do it from bed, the couch, between rests. Painting is a great outlet, though I do it differently from the average bear. Nature I love, and I want more of it, away from people. And I have me my Mr J, and without him (and my mum) I would be in a pretty horrible place.

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