on reading

It occurred to me to feel a little silly about how deeply invested I am in the Harry Potter series -- my anticipation, my midnight tryst with hundreds of other fans (of all ages), and my dream of sharing these books one day with my child/children. I will say that I don't know if I would have sobbed quite so loudly if it hadn't been, well, that time of the month. But what of it? Why not cry about a book? About a ten year investment in a gorgeously developed gang of characters?

So the feeling of sillyness came up, and I looked at it, and thought, hmm, how interesting. And instead of shame, a wave of gratitude for READING, and writers, and books gracefully rose to the surface. My mother and her mother have modeled reading for me my whole life. I don't ever remember not reading as a child. And looking back, at the hundreds of books I have read, and the many, many I have reread, I think -- what a gift. All the complicated, difficult feelings I experienced as an adult -- reading saved me. While I didn't have the skills to negotiate the depths of my depression (or life) induced misery, I could READ.

I don't know how many times I read the Anne of Green Gables books as a child and teen. As an adult, I read and reread Ellen Gilchrist. Sometimes, books were like air -- I'd gulp desperately and finally, breathe easier as I turned the pages.

Sometimes, books were a way of numbing out, to be sure. But more often, I think, reading was an escape to something. A place of presence and meaning, of authentic emotion.

done for now,
d

harry potter, harry potter

I won't say anything, anything at all about the plot, because i'm afraid that anything i say might give something away. What I think I can say...

1) Last night, I ate a good, healthy meal and then permitted myself the luxury of uniterrupted hours. I finished the book. I read it really slowly, referenced past novels so that I fully understood the significance of each horcrux, and rereaad chapters as I went through so I made sure I knew what was going on. I didn't want it to be over.

2) Now that I read it, I keep going back and rereading parts.

3) I sobbed through several chapters. I cried so loud that my housemate came to check on me. I also laughed out loud through several moments.

4) I will be able to read the series to my unborn/not-yet-adopted children. That to say, the ending satisfied me deeply.

5) I need to wait awhile before I download the audiobook. Readling Deathly Hallows was a really emotional experience.

Thank-you, JK Rowling. Reading your books, especially Deathly Hallows was a truly wonderful experience.

p.s. The image above is the cover of the UK edition of the book.

p.p.s. check out JK Rowlings personal website. It's pretty great.

recent obsessions

amy winehouse
I can't stop listening to this album. And watching her videos online. she's amazing.

charlaine harris
She's a mystery writer, and I've never really been a mystery reader before. I got way hooked on her "Southern Vampire" series, starring Sookie Stackhouse, the telepathic waitress (my Mom did too). Now I just finished another series of hers -- the Lily Bard "Shakespeare" books. Strong, complex, southern heroines. Funny and well-written.

the upcoming release of The Golden Compass
the movie. 12.07.07. One of my favorite books is becoming a film. Please read the book, if you haven't already, or listen to the AMAZING audio recording. And Daniel Craig, of 007 fame, is playing Lord Asriel. Enough said.

the upcoming release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I'm torn. Do I read it quickly and find out who dies? But then, this is the LAST one, so I should read it slowly, right? And what if JK kills....Harry? Can't do, can't be. How could I read this book to my hypothetical children and get them all invested in Harry Potter if he's going to die? Unbearably, I have a board meeting at 9 a.m. on the Saturday (12:01 a.m.) it's released.

tomatoes and blueberries
It's that time of the summer. tomato, basil, fresh mozzarella. bliss. And though the blueberry harvest was hit hard by the spring freeze, both the picking and the eating (with homemade shortcake) was still perfect.

summer movies
Live Free or Die Hard.
Bruce Willis, as you might have heard, brings down a helicopter with a van. It was totally awesome.

back to black

it's just been that kind of day.

or pieces of several days broken up by ok moments.

i'm in a kind of numbed out daze and i'm not exactly wild with coping mechanisms at the moment.

i have work to do that i'm not doing. i have something to turn in tomorrow that i have GOT to review before mid-morning. it's now 11:07 P.M. and if my summer house-mate hadn't let out my dog, I'd also be a terrible dog owner.

i am almost three-weeks overdue on an email i promised to send.

i have laundry to put away (this is not tragic. it's just that i could be creating some sanity in my physical environment if i hadn't been doing all kinds of ridiculous distracting stuff for the last few hours).

my head just won't stop with the mean self-judgmental crap.

well, it does sometimes stop.

well, it just hasn't stopped for several hours.

ok. this is funny. writing this post has somehow broken some kind of spell. i hope the break lasts long enough for me to pack up my computer and go home. if i can at least get to sleep at a reasonable hour then tomorrow doesn't have to totally suck.

i'm lonely, i think. well, last time i checked, that wasn't a crime. it doesn't make me weird that i'd like someone to love and to love me back. not too weird to want a family of my own.

mostly, i do ok with this wanting. mostly i cope with this particular kind of lonely. i'm grateful for lots of good things.

well, tomorrow is another darn day.

partcipating in the wave

Many Sunday nights still evoke that "haven't finished all my homework," feeling, and I was filled with a pretty good amount of anxiety last night. I was with my family (my brother was home from California!), trying to relax while watching television and sewing a book. (I was already weepy for various reasons -- none of them particularly relevant -- so I decided to go upstairs and have a good cry.

So I'm upstairs, splayed out on the floor, somewhere between a weep and a sob, and I'm thinking, ok, when I leave my folk's house, there's got to be some way I can numb out. Of course, on a Sunday night at 9:30 p.m., there's only one place to go for the "wander around and look at things to buy" drug: Wal-Mart (dun-dun-da-da). So then I think/say, with no small amount of desperation: "Don't make me go to Wal-Mart!" and then, out of me came something between a sob and a laugh. And then more laughing.

Part of this whole Dialectical Behavior Therapy thing is the idea that emotions are waves -- that you can experience them, but at the same time, step back a little and say, ok, whatever I'm feeling will crest and subside. And that's what happened. And what I'm noticing today is that I am feeling so much better. I was able to get out of bed, and get going, and turn in the work assignment that was days late without too much drama.

What I'm seeing is the quantatative effectiveness of DBT. The time taken last evening to have a good cry, to endure the wave, and make myself laugh, is having a multiple effect today. Very time effective.

Part two of all the angst this weekend is that I'm noticing the exhausting effects of my endless busyness. I fell asleep at 4:30 p.m. on Saturday, and didn't wake up until the next morning. I'm guessing I'm not more busy, but my craving for quiet and presence is growing stronger, and I'm more aware of the distance between my chronic business and what I'm striving towards. (Can one strive towards less busy?)

The drawing is my interpretive attempt at conveying both the waves and my sprawled body on the floor of my parents guest room.

l,
d

When Things Fall Apart

"Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth."
-- When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chodron

This quote (and book) has been a help to me this week.

Also:

COMPASSION IS REVOLUTION

Enjoy.
d

it's official...

my application was received by Women Make Movies.

NOT accepted, but received.

I got the application in just under the wire (which I'm sure is just SHOCKING for those of you who know me), so I wasn't going to make any assumptions until I got the confirmation email:

Dear Applicant—

We have received your application for Fiscal Sponsorship with Women Make Movies.

Due to staff and Review Committee participation in upcoming film festivals, our notification date has been pushed back by a couple of days: We will be sending notification letters via email by June 22. You will be notified either way by that date, via this email address you have provided us. Thank you in advance for your patience!

Thank you for your interest in Women Make Movies’ Production Assistance Program. We look forward to reviewing your proposal.

Best Regards,
Production Assistance Program Staff

So -- when I know, you'll know!

But honestly -- and I'm 95% sure I mean this...

I hope WMM grants me fiscal sponsorship. I do. BUT I will say that getting the proposal done and turned in was a big deal. Bipolar Girl, no longer just an idea, but words and ink on paper! MOST importantly, I stayed pretty calm throughout, got a decent amount of sleep, and didn't crash after. Did I mention I didn't crash after?

I have told dozens of people, "go ahead and apply, and if you don't get approved, they'll tell you what to fix and you can resubmit." I think I believe it. So, that's what I'll do.

And finally, thanks Mom&Dad. We did it!

having one's atoms rearranged is not always a pleasant thing

I've mentioned Dialectical Behavioral Therapy in previous posts; the once-weekly two hour group sessions and then an individual therapy session are making a huge difference in my life -- I can see the positive changes. It's all very solid and skills based -- practical skills to help sensitive people transform into sturdy sensitive people. I've held for many years that insights -- even brilliant, life-changing ones -- are only so helpful without a plan of action.

My last big moment o'truth came when my therapist and I were talking about how hard it is for me to hang on to positive emotions -- I finish something I'm proud of, or have a good day -- and then I come home and want to avoid how I'm feeling by eating something yucky or wandering around to WalMart (only if it's late and nothing else is open -- still, it feels gross).

So N (that's my therapist) gently suggests that one of the reasons I might be afraid of holding on to positive feelings is because in the past, I had trouble distinguishing between positive feelings and mania.

It was a huge moment. YES. This weird avoidance thing (I mean, why would anyone want to avoid feeling good) wasn't just about self-esteem, or the manic cycles that occur when I work my heart out getting something done (and don't get enough sleep) and then crash into a deep depression (boy, howdy, that's a lot of fun).

But the REALLY AMAZING part of the revelation was that I knew that I am learning the observational skills to discern:

oh, this is what happy feels like.
or,
oh, this is what mania feel like.

I can check in with my body -- happiness feels very flowy, and even excitement feels like it's coming inside and flowing outward. I feel very certain when I'm happy. I feel grateful.

Mania feels like it's coming at me -- and I breathe funny.

So I've got these mad skills to put my brilliant moments of self-reflection (and the trusted observations of those around me) to work.

I'm learning, slowly, to bear all kinds of emotions. I remember the first time I watched "sad" get born, then crest and fall. And I survived without distracting myself with some kind of not-so-helpful behavior.

Some people may be born with the ability to exist with their emotions quite naturally. I spent years fighting them, and with good reason -- sometimes, they were way scary, and out of control.

I'd like to say I'm gracefully accepting these good, positive changes in my life, but I am sometimes scared. Between Tuesday's therapy and Wednesday's group session, I'm a often a wreck by Wednesday night. And then there is this _life_ that I'm supposed to lead. Your life is the laboratory, N said to me last night, as I sat clutching my cell phone, weeping in my car in the WalMart parking lot (that's a whole 'nother story).

Basically, I feel these shifts happening at the atomic level in my being, but feel like I have to keep the outside looking pretty much the same -- all right folks, keep moving, nothing is going on over here!

Sometimes I just get tired.

Sometimes even the good changes are exhausting.

In this moment, however, I feel hopeful.

Bipolar Girl Rules the World and Other Stories

There is SO much I want to say, in returning to this blog.

But the most important thing...on Sunday, July 9, 2006, I wrote that "someday, I would make a documentary film with the name "Bipolar Girl Rules the World," but until then, it's my blog." Well, on May 15 I turned in my proposal to Women Make Movies, a fiscal sponsorship organization in New York, NY. So if they say "yes," I'm officially open for business (meaning, I can raise money for the film).

Anyways, I did it!

The goal is to have the film done by around this time in 2009.

Ok, so one step at a time. Right. One step at a time.

For now, enjoy a rough sketch of Bipolar Girl! Notice her levitating pink cowgirl boots! And look for more updates soon!