Psychotherapist wants me to write to the baby girls we lost.

He says it's obvious their loss affected me more than I let on.

I don't know if I can do it. I don't think I can convey the fact they were real to us, and then they were gone. I'm a pretty good writer. I just don't think I can convey THAT much emotion.

All of this is made worse by the fact the med change has left me with some pretty nasty depression. At least crying at work for no reason keeps my coworkers out of my office.

Video Embedding Test- Kicka** music if it worked

Like the title says. Testing out an imbed.



If nothing else, an awesome song.

On topic, if you don't know of Boy Sets Fire, you should. Especially if you like the heavy stuff (this is soft for them). Or anti-white collar stuff.

What the heck, a few more links:


Unspoken Request (about a girl that was raped and nobody did anything)

(compassion) as skull fragments on the wall Best. Title. Ever.

My Life In the Knife Trade Emo crap. But they do it well. :)

Hey! Get Away From That Horse, Freak!

It's not how the title sounds. Okay, maybe it'll end up how it sounds when we're done. That's up to your gutter mind.

So pill wise, they took me off a mood stabilizer that was causing crippling anxiety and added an anti-anxiety sedative to the two other mood stabilizers and the sedative mood stabilizer. Nine pills a day.

I still don't think I'm ever going to get better, but at least now I'm not shaking and crying. Just crying.

Wish I was joking.

I saw one of those stupid, "My (insert breed of dog) Is Smarter Than Your Honor Student". No, your dog is not. Sorry. I love dogs. Really.

There are some things that are cute and witty, but that bumper sticker--even as an animal lover--is not one of them. (Here's where I put the disclaimer in that it's okay if you have one of those stickers because you find them witty. Right here's where it would be. If I had such a disclaimer).

It should read, "My (insert breed of dog) Is A Fantastic...Kisser".

Your dog likes the taste of your lipstick, even if you're a guy. What I'm saying is, if you are one of those dog freaks (different than a dog lover or dog person. Okay maybe not different than a dog "lover"), then you probably should have a sticker that reads, "My (insert breed of dog) Shares Carnal Knowledge With Its Owner."

Yes, the rest of us find that bumper sticker that creepy. That level of, ahem, devotion, is freakish.

No one has bad or questionable intentions when slapping a bumper sticker of how proud they are of their Elementary School student on their car. Well, no one except a man of the cloth--and I'm pretty sure that weird singer thingy Lady Gaga should not be allowed near them, either.

So those bumper stickers are weird. Just sayin'.

On a related note, we live in a suburb near the rural town we used to live in. We pass bumper stickers all the time professing the driver's love for their horses. These are slightly less creepy, but still a little overboard.

"I *HEART* MY APPALOOSA"

You do? Well aren't you just a trooper. A for effort!

Off to the hospital

Emergency appointment today, and I'm scared. I'm afraid they won't be able to stop this regression into anxiety disorder and depression. I would even go into the hospital willingly--something they had to arrest me to accomplish last time.

I'm afraid I'll stay like this. I'm afraid my family will never see the "real" me again. I'm not used to being afraid, but I'm terrified. I have no optimism or belief I will recover from this. I'm miserable, going on and fighting only for my family and God. I'll keep fighting for them, but I'm afraid it will be always as...this. Not a person.

I don't deserve better. They do. Loved ones will stay that way--because I truly do love you. And I'm not going anywhere. Bipolar took Dad. No ******* way it takes me, too. I just don't like what it's making me.

Noon today. I pray they can help me.

Still Not Well

They've added an anti-anxiety to keep me from shaking and crying. It works, but I get so sleepy.

Why do I keep updating without the normal explanations or illustrations? So people can see the roller coaster. You can go back and look at the funny posts, the angry posts, and the depressed ones. That's life with bipolar--to extremes.

I also needed to get the post about my wife's figure off the top, so it wouldn't show up on our writing blog as the most recent one here.

They really are beautiful, though.

Boobs I Own

My wife's endowments are grandly spectacular. That is all.