Rock Bottom

I think we've hit it. We've hit rock bottom. Aside from being homeless, I feel like we're on the verge of losing everything. We have worked so hard just to stay afloat, only to have it all come crumbling down any day. 

Ever since my husband lost his job last year, and since I lost my job back in April, our lives have fallen deeper into a financial abyss. Last month, I had to sell a piece of jewelry that meant the world to me. Given to me from my husband over 6 years ago, was the only piece of jewelry from my husband that I had left. A year and a half after we were married, I lost my wedding ring. Although it was immediately replaced from our insurance policy, I still no longer had that original ring that he placed on my finger on our wedding day, so as a reminder, I felt like I lost my wedding ring all over again.

I received a decent sum of money to help us through, but as that sum has trickled down, I fear we will be back to struggling once again. I know what we have left, it most likely won't last more than a month; maybe even a few weeks at the most. My husband still hasn't found an acceptable job, something that will sustain us each month, and for now, I am only working part time as a preschool teacher. I wanted to do something different with my life, and although for the most part, I'm happy with it, I miss doing what I love most, graphic design.

I've been able to have fun with the kids as I collaborate new and exciting art projects, but the feeling of accomplishment only goes so far. 

Back in April, I was fired from my job—a job that I held for a year and a half. I was overworked and underpaid. I came home everyday feeling more stressed than the day prior. Everyday was an emotional struggle but I knew, as unhappy as I was at my job, at least I was making money. The entire time I worked there, I had never received a raise, even though I was promised one. Finally after a year and a half, I was fired for reasons of making errors. I admit to these errors, and for that, I blame my disease. I know what my mind is capable of, and for the past few years, my mind has slipped.

Suffering from bipolar disorder makes your mind wander. I couldn't concentrate and as a result, dealing with orders, numbers, etc. was just too much of a challenge.

I hated that job. Hated it more than anything. I dreaded going into work everyday and I dreaded dealing with customers/clients. When I'd get an email asking where their order was, I wanted to scream! It was the same thing each and everyday. Someone always complained about something, and it never seemed to end.

I was underpaid, but I grudgingly showed up everyday like clockwork. Like the rest of society.

Ironically, since that day, I was awarded unemployment insurance, which even today, still surprises me since I was fired. Because I never received any written notices or warnings, they considered that a valid reason. Although my employer fought it, I still won.

That was the best feeling, knowing I had the last word. So for now, albeit temporarily, I have money supplementing my part time job.

Now, I am working half that time and making the same money per hour. Less stress of course, but because I work with 3-5 year olds 5 days a week, it's a different kind of stress. Regardless, I don't go home wanting to pull my hair out and running for the bottle of wine.

After all of this time, and all of this heartache with our lives, I try to look at the positive—we have each other. We're all healthy (knock on wood) and we love each other. I look at my daughter everyday and think, where has that time gone? She is starting high school in a few weeks, and I want her to have the best high school experience that any teenager can have. Even though she is now on the free lunch program, I just look at it as one less stress to worry about. Wondering if she'll have enough money in her lunch account to get a hot lunch at school. Her sports are paid for since she qualifies for the free lunch program. 

She doesn't seem to mind, at least that's the impression she's giving us. For now, I just don't want her to worry about what will come next. I just want her to be happy and enjoy her high school experience. After all, it only happens once in our lives.


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Let the Good Times Roll

After a long depressing month and a half, I quickly realized not long after I started my new job that it just wasn't for me. I knew within the first week that I hated it and I was unhappy. I kept asking myself this one simple question—"why can't I be happy? Why don't I appreciate what I have?"

In the past year, this seemed to be a constant reminder of what I was trying to convince myself of, only this time, it was worse. I was at a job that I was unhappy at and hated. The problem is, I loved my boss and loved the atmosphere where I worked. So how can I hate my job? Isn't that what it's mostly about anyway? Apparently not. I have never worked at a job where I really liked my boss that much and loved the atmosphere, so it was a confusing situation for me overall, but soon realized that happiness was more broad and more complex than what I had envisioned. 

I hated what I was doing and I hated going into work as a result of that. The weekends were great as I spent a great deal of time with my family and knew that I never wanted it to end. Until Monday came around, my world felt like I was going to burst; I felt as though I would explode with the anticipation of having to go back into work the very next day after the end of my weekend—Sunday night. I always dreaded that time of week knowing full well I'd have to put the alarm on and get ready for another long, drawn out depressing week of work.

I realize that most people, if not all, suffer through this every week. I have such envy for those who love their jobs and love what they do. But for me, I've never felt anywhere near that and I am taking this opportunity to move forward and try to be appreciative and most importantly, to be happy.

My boss came to me this week and reluctantly discussed the possibility of hiring me through my design company as a sub-contractor, salary every week as though I was an employee, and work on ongoing graphic design projects that are continuously needed. In a nutshell, he has decided to eliminate my position all together since let's face it, I wasn't very good at it. I tried my hardest to become a good executive assistant, but knew deep down in my heart that it wasn't a position I was happy with. Therefore, it was reflected in the outcome of my job performance.

For me, this has worked out for my benefit. Not only will I be able to work from home, but I can work on my Mac once again. I hated working on his PC and it was a struggle, I assure you. Telecommuting was something I had always desired, but never offered the opportunity for. This is ideal for me, and I know it's a possibility of my attempt to gain more clients. Yes, he will now be my client, and no longer my boss.

We sat there and worked out the details and in the end, it benefits both of us exponentially. I'm happy and I'm eager. Today is my last day as his executive assistant and going into the office as required. 

In the back of my mind, I worry about this opportunity and I continually tell myself "this is too good for me, I'm not supposed to be happy and am I good enough to follow through with this amazing opening of my career?" Part of my bipolar disorder is the constant negativity that runs through my mind, and I hate it. I wish I could knock it out of my brain so I can move forward without feeling as though I will come head-on with disaster.

As I sat there telling my therapist about this exciting news, she was thrilled and supportive. Although the money is a little less than what I was earning per week, it still worked out to my benefit. My husband is also supportive. 

But why can't I accept this as a great opportunity? Why am I thinking about it as though I will fail?

I want to be happy about it, and I want to be grateful and I want to be delighted about this amazing position and him hiring me through my company. Something that I've never experienced long term.

I need to accept it for what it is and move forward with anticipation, instead of thoughts of catastrophe.

It's time to move on and let the good times roll.

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Back to Work!

Well, tomorrow will be my third week at my new job. How am I liking it? Hmm...tough one since I really like the people I work with as well as my new boss. He seems laid back and pretty nice and from what I've noticed so far, he seems to treat his employees very well; he respects their opinions and expertise. I like that. However, I don't like what I'm doing and—here it goes—I don't like being back to work.

There, I admitted it.

These past few weeks have been tough for me. I don't know if it has anything to do with my bipolar disorder, or just that I don't feel it's challenging for me, or both. Either way, with everything that I've been going through, I thought I'd want to dive in and be ready and eager to start this new adventure in my life.

But I'm not.

I'm beyond discouraged and so far, it's not a challenge for me; I don't feel as though this is within my realm of my background and knowledge, and worse, my professional training. Sadly—and I'm embarrassed to admit—I feel it's beneath me. Yes, I realize these are not words I should be expressing, especially considering I have been unemployed for two and half years, so I should be grateful that I found a job so quickly after my unemployment benefits have ended. Right?

Unfortunately, I'm not.

Perhaps I should just suck it up and try and work my tail off and move forward with my life. Right now, our finances are in dire straits so the option of quitting and starting over with an endless job hunt, is not an option at this time. I hate being in this position and I hate that my illness has gotten in the way of my pride. After spending thousands of dollars to what now seems like a worthless college degree, this is what I'm destined to find? An executive assistant? Yes, that is my official title—an executive assistant. I went from being a successful graphic designer to this. As anyone could imagine, it's quite discouraging. 

But don't judge me.

Even though doing graphic design work is about 30% of my job description, as well as very little marketing, but mostly, I am there as an assistant to my boss, the owner, and other managers as well. I work at an arts center, so that part of the job I like. It's new to me, and although I like being involved with something new and something unfamiliar, overall I don't like the job duties.

I feel guilty, I truly do. I've been coming home from work these past few weeks in a depressive slump, only to shoot my family down from daily excitement for my going back into the work force. And for what? An executive assistant job. Even though my husband tells me every single day—as well as my therapist—that this is not the end all job for me, that I have the option of continuing to look for another job in my field while I'm employed. Although I plan on adhering to this advice, I'm disillusioned regardless. 

I feel as though my life has shifted again to this endless abyss of depression. Perhaps it's as simple as feeling sorry for myself, I don't know. Will I ever know the answer to this, or again, is it the reaction of my bipolar disorder? I truly don't know how to answer to what seems, this neverending question in my life.

Let's hope I have an answer soon enough.

Bipolar Gal on Twitter

The Tide Will Turn

I feel great, I really do.


Ever since I started taking my medication, I feel wonderful. Yes, there are those occasional blips that encompass me on a daily basis, but overall, they're working! I never want to stop. There are still days as I regularly pop those pills in my mouth, that I often ask myself, "why do I need to take so many pills?" It's a tough 'pill' to swallow—no pun here—but I know if I don't take them, I will go down that rocky road where I was heading before. 


And it wasn't good.


I try to remind myself that we're blessed to have such spectacular health benefits; we're lucky, very lucky. If it weren't for my husband's benefits, we wouldn't have the means to buy my meds and I know what a downward cycle that would bring me back into. That would not only be devastating, but shattering as well. I tell my husband everyday that we need to somehow prepare for the possibility—albeit a low possibility—that if he were to get laid off or fired, what would we do? Yes, he'd collect unemployment benefits, but what about health insurance? No such thing as health unemployment benefits. Oh ya, it's called COBRA. 


More like NO-BRA. No bra because there's no support. Your premiums are double if not more than what you were paying while working with that company, so where's the coverage there? 


Just like wearing 'No Bra.' Ultimately, we'd be screwed.


The last few weeks consisted of crying and fright. Those tears were all for my father. Nothing else. I didn't want to stop the ache because I wanted to continue to cry for the man that raised me. The man that I looked up to. I only felt it was justified and the right thing to do. 


My husband had recommended that I take an anti-anxiety pill, but I refused. I told him this was legitimate, this is what I needed to feel, not numbness, but true sadness for someone I will miss and love for the rest of my life. And you know what, I'm OK with that.


Some tears are just worth shedding.


I believe that the next few months will be nothing shy of a challenge. As I received my very last unemployment check today, I now know that I can start working again and this time, I'm ready to face it head on. I'm ready to go to work and be surrounded by people in a socially thriving environment. I know I need this,but at this point, I have no other option. I must work.


The question is, am I emotionally ready? Can I do it?


As they say, only time will tell. I know once I get back into the groove of things, I will be ready and willing to move forward. I have to, because if I don't, what will happen? Will I go into a bipolar remission? Or just accept it as being a part of life and continue to plug away? 


Again, only time will tell.


I'm ready to face rejection and I'm ready to face success. I need to. I have to. But I admit, it will be tough. My life is like a tidal wive. As I continue to surf, different waves will come and go. The same goes as I grieve my father's death—they will come and go, and some days it'll be OK, other days there'll come a huge wave aiming towards me that I know I'll have to ride, that I can't avoid, but other waves will be small and minimal. Those waves I know I'll be able to anticipate without consequence. Basically, I know that everyday will be a different experience for me. 


Like life in general.


For me, it's a little more challenging than that, but I know as the "waves" come and go, so will my attitude. I will get better and then my tide will turn.


Bipolar Gal on Twitter

Back in the Saddle Again

For over two years, two long years, I had no desire whatsoever to work on my graphic design and/or art. I just wanted to sit and play my video game. That's it. That was my goal; that is what consisted of my day.

I don't blame the video game or my addiction to my lack of interest in my art, I blame my frustration and I blame Bipolar Disorder. But life can't be filled with blame, if all we do is blame then we never hold ourselves accountable for the mistakes that we make. I am choosing to get help for my Bipolar and choosing to get well again. I have so much to live in my life and so much to see, that getting well will only enrich it, not ruin it.

It was difficult these past two years without my art, without my work. I truly thought I'd never have the desire to go back. I always looked at it as a creative block, nothing more, nothing less. I was afraid that I'd never have that desire to create and design like I used to. I had such passion for it and to then wake up one day and have it disappear was discouraging, as well as depressing. I had worked so hard to obtain my bachelors degree in graphic design, that it was almost a disincline from everything that had been so meaningful in my life.

Until now.

After two and a half years, I can now look ahead and move forward with my work and my art. Even though I am still currently unemployed, I still have hope that I can create on my own and design for me. Right now, I need that more than anything. It'll not only keep me sane, but keep me occupied. Keep my thoughts from racing every night as I lie in bed attempting to go to sleep. My psychiatric nurse—whom I refer to as my 'drug dealer'—had recommended that I keep a journal or note pad next to my bed so I can write down my racing thoughts. But I don't need a note pad, thankfully I still remember all of my thoughts and ideas the following day.

If only it were this easy. I admit, there are days where my mind and thoughts are constantly coming up with ideas on what project to work on next, only to find myself unable to execute it when I approach the plate. It has been frustrating. I've never had this problem before and I've never been this "blocked." It has become quite the eye opener for me. Reality. 

Sometimes I ask myself "why?" Why am I atttempting to do this again? Why not just walk away and find something else to occupy my time? I had even thought about focusing my energy on learning to cook, but for me for the most part, art/design is still where I belong. When you're an artist, the answer isn't as simple as it may seem. It's something deep inside of you that needs to come out; that needs to be expressed. STAT! 

But where do I start?

I'm confused by this question, simply because I am still confused to why I was 'blocked' to begin with. Since I was 13 years old, after seeing the movie Xanadu, I knew that becoming a commercial artist—which is what graphic design was called back then—was my calling in life. Although I initially dreamed of becoming an architect, I immediately came to the realization that math was not my forté; my weakest subject. 

Next dream—graphic designer. 

Art history and architecture is still to this day, something I have such passion for, so I just realized that I can still enjoy it without having it as my career. 

Even if I don't get a job in my field right now, I'm actually OK with that. At this point, working at a coffee shop would be sufficient. As long as I'm around people and can socialize with the real world, in lieu of the virtual world which I have become so accustomed to after 2+ years. I need and crave for that more than anything right now.

That will help me heal.

Pop Art illustration Raisins – Artist, me – 2006

Pop Art illustration S.O.S. Pads – Artist, me – 2006

Pop Art illustration Spaghetti Sauce & Tomato Soup – Artist, me – 2006

 

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