Last Night-Rain and My Pug

The sky was angry without stars, and clouds accumulating in the heavens above.

A wintery rain was posted for the maniac’s hours and I huddled in my bed, covered in layers in layers of blankets, and a fury warm body.  We huddled close, as close as we could be, and both drifted off to a mediocre  night’s slumber, as the impending winds started to swirl around, and rain was surely going to pelt the ground.

I awoke at 1:45 am, much to my meddlesome fury warm body, that was my pug, huddled closer until she lay directly upon me.

I was unable to fall into a brand new slumber, as side wards pelleting rain, tapped on so gently on my window above my bed.

I looked out and all I could see, was my reflection of the pug staring back at me. She wasn’t happy, as she new me too well, and new I was up for a long, night’s spell. I tried as I might to readjust amongst the layers in my bed, but got frustrated with the pug, now creeping up on my head.

I finally had had enough, off came the covers, and I stood in the rough. I hadn’t decided upon what to do.

Go to the store because I was hungry, or delve back into the bed in a hurry. I opted for my stomach as it was a growling, and headed out into the storm that was howling.

I took my pug, very reluctantly, as she knows without a doubt when the weather is grumpy. I donned her leash and gave her leash a tug, the pug, as you know can be give a swift tug.

Down the stairs of the porch we flew, with my pug, Julia Bleu leading the way.

Determined was she to get out of the weather, and she dodged every puddle with the lightness of a feather.

We arrived at the store, and Julia Bleu would have not a moment more, of braving the rain which we both thought at this point was rather insane.

What was I thinking, bringing us out in this weather, cold, wet, and wind, not weather for a fury pet.

I hoped she would forgive me once we were home, and I toweled her dry, and stop her from shivering, with her drenched bug eyes.

She raveled indeed at the sight and feel of the warm towel. I had made the wrong call taking us out in the storm.

We ate our food, fast and furious, and Julia Bleu looked at me perplexed and curious….

Were we headed back to bed, Julia Bleu’s eyes were filled with hope and dread.

It would be like me to stay awake until the morning, but the storm took the swell out of the early morning I wanted to make.

So under the covers we arrived once again, and we both looked at each other like this is where we should have been.

We were wet, but too cold and raw to get changed, we huddled together as we shivered and our bodies panged.

Did I learn my lesson? Oh hell not so! I would be right back out there ready to go.

With a stomach still growling, as the wind was howling, Julia Bleu looked at me and spoke OH NO!

Don’t you dare take me out in that nasty weather, she groaned, grunted and gave me her best pout.

I fantasized about the balmy summer weather, and knew it was along way off in the distance. A distance so far, I could hardly imagine, Julia Bleu and I walking out in balmy weather.

But alas soon as it will appear, my pug and I will be out walking without a care.

For now, we must get through this grueling weather and cold, and dress warmly and forge out with all the muster we can bold.

We are last warm and somewhat dry, as can be, and I pray to the angry sky for sunshine to pass this wretched storm.



Finding Understanding-Digging Deep

After yesterday’s marathon session at rehab, I have a new found understanding for the injuries I sustained in my fall in August.

I have only had one operation, and had a cast removed from my hand, but the gravity of the injuries I sustained have come into new light or perhaps darkness.

I have possibly four operations pending, and the extended duration of the road to well is daunting. I have just started therapy on my knee that had the first surgery, and my thumb that was casted for six weeks.

The possible procedures that lay in front of me are much more involved and invasive and the recovery time is far greater.

I could be looking at surgery into the New Year for a simple fall off my porch steps. I am trying to remain optimistic, but with the delay of the next surgeries, I am losing ground on remaining hopeful. I realize surgery is the last option, but my thumb is not going to get better without it. Sending me to occupational therapy is taking up precious time that I could be using for immediate surgery and recovery.

I am frustrated with my doctors and don’t think the overall outcome is going to be positive for a swift fix of my injuries. I have been patient and I have waited and now it is the end of October and the fall was in August. I worry about the winter and surgery and school and surgery, as I can’t take anymore time off from school and at this rate my surgeries are going well into the New Year.

I have thought about switching Orthopedic offices but I will have to start from scratch. I hope and pray my bunion gets approved and after that my thumb can be fused. That still leaves the minor surgery on my ring finger for a growth that is not part of the injuries, and my main complaint my right knee with a patellar that keeps dislocating.

I just want my body back, as I am looking forward to getting back to the gym, and adding some lean muscle mass. I have been going to the gym, but I am unable to work my lower body, and with my bad thumb my upper body is limited.

I have put my body through so much with my anorexia, and as I crest the mountain I fell so steeply, I am now hung up by these injuries that aren’t being addressed in a timely manner.

I will continue to do what I can at the gym, and I will stay focused on trying to be positive about my other injuries/ I can’t go into the middle of winter with school and impending surgeries.

I will email the doctor today about my bunion and see where my surgery is on my finger with the growth. At least getting those two surgeries done with the hopes of thumb surgery coming next gives me a good start before the winter.

I am frustrated by my doctors and by my body. I know the fall was bad, but it was made worse with the ever present anorexia.

I am trying to really overcome my anorexia, but it appears that every step forward I take I take two steps back.  I am now beginning to question am I a lifer? I never would have thought yes, but time keeps moving and I am still sick. It is very disheartening to me as a person, who has a lot of living left to do.

I just emailed my doctor regarding my bunion. His manner and actions are very unprofessional, and at this point I believe I have to escalate this matter. Not very helpful  for the patient-physician relationship, but I know my rights, and I know proper interaction and this is neither of those two things.

I am just trying to keep from sinking lower than I already am. I have held my head high and nothing is panning out. Especially in a timely manner.

I wake up everyday, a little less optimistic than the day before. I am only one person, and what I have had to carry on my slight shoulders is a big burden especially with this foot doctor.

I have decided that I will call the office today and speak to the higher ups. I am done playing the complacent patient and self-advocacy is warranted on my behalf.

I am going to take a new approach and if this doesn’t get sorted out this week I am scheduling a new appointment with a new Ortho office to handle my complex case appropriately I feel like I did something wrong and that should not be how I feel.

I think I will get myself together and stop this complaining and make something of my day and myself.

Yes, I just read what I have written so far, and it is pathetic as am I. I need to restart my mindset and get into gear, and be strong, and know what I am expecting is appropriate.. I am taking this doctor’s inappropriate behavior and accepting it as my own.

I am going  to make the most of today, and spend the latter part of the afternoon, watching Bella lay for her volleyball championship.

Time to get myself in gear, pull my head out of my ass, and get on with my day. I am still tired so I think a little rest will help rejuvenate myself and position me for a stellar day.

This poor me thing has got to go and I am done with the complaining, and action is definitely in order.

I am grateful for getting this poison out of me, putting it on electronic paper, and moving on as quickly as possible.

I may not be well, but I am no pushover and I will take the high road and road less travelled to get the care I deserve.

I am getting pumped up for the day, I have overcome my poor-me syndrome and I am going for it. I have turned the corner and I am rising from the ashes. Nothing is going to stop me, nor is my head going to get in the way of my goals and my mission I am on to make the most of my so-called life and see my dreams come true!



Yesterday-Many Realizations

Yesterday I started my new physical therapy routine for my knee and thumb.

It is going to be hard and long, but the road to well and healthy is worth it!  I am committed to two days a  week at Wentworth Douglas Hospital.  I show up at 9:00 am and I leave it 11:00am. Yesterday was my first day and I was overwhelmed by the work and time commitment.

I made it through both sessions and had a brace made for my thumb. I think eight weeks of this regime and I will be in a good place to evaluate further surgery on my thumb, and I will have an answer on my bunion that is holding me up at this point.

I see my old friend prepping for body building contests, and I have mixed emotions. A couple of years ago she was smaller than me, and very far from the body she has now. She is a good 40-50 pounds heavier and completely dedicated to her sport. She doesn’t look anything like remember and I don’t know whether I like it or not/.

I still prefer thin, and lean and with the muscle bulk she has put on she will never be thin again. I don’t know where she is the competitive field, as I have seen other women and they are not as big and bulky and I know that is one of the issues with female body building. I saw a girl today who had what I thought was the perfect body.

She was lean and ripped and had a stomach to die for. My friend is not like that, and is bulky and somewhat mannish with no stomach definition to speak of……she has one line in her stomach yet the 6-8 pack eludes her. Before she got skinny she had a weight problem, and I think she is naturally predisposed to bulking out.

I look at my own fragile body and for just a second I wonder if I could turn my body around. I have no desire to be like my old friend, but lean and strong, with shredded muscles does seem appealing. The girl I thought had the best body is more my style. She is shredded and cut without a lot of bulk. My friend is so big and has only been doing this for two years, and I wonder if she is taking steroids-she is that big.

It has made me think about getting in shape and getting in top fitness form, but I hesitate because I don’t want the bulk. I doubt I would be able to put on bulk like my friend but the thought of it stops me in my tracks.

I will watch her compete in the show and because she has dedicated her life to this now I will wish her well and hope she does well. I know they have all these categories so maybe she will do well in one of the more muscle bound groups.

I do know that seeing my old friend made me aware of the lean machine of a body I used to have, and I am somewhat drawn to the gym and working out for my own physical fitness. I have been going to the gym regularly and starting easy and light so I don’t over do it and I ease into cranking up my body. I am really anxious to see how my friend does, as I never would have thought she could put on as much muscle as she has.

I am at a point of realization where I have a lot going on and I have many goals I want to achieve. From getting back into school and rehabbing my body, plus the surgeries I have coming, it is going to take a lot of time and effort. I can’t do everything I want, so picking my goals carefully is something I must consider before I head back to school in the Spring. School is definitely the main priority and with that said, other goals that are time intensive are going to have to be fettered out and prioritized accordingly

I am psyched for the campaign to be coming to a close, and I still don’t know whether I made the right decision about taking two semesters off of school. Obviously if she wins I will be so happy, but things look really tight and I don’t know if the American people are up for her as president..

I am going to take some time today and write in my journal about the next phase of my life. Time is ticking and I don’t know what the future holds for me. I know with hard work, which is a given, I will be able to attain the goals I set for myself.

Yesterday the realization of 8 weeks of physical therapy set me back and I need to wrap my mind around it differently. I am a broke down person, with all my injuries and I need to turn myself around and get focused and determined to kick the shit out of these 8 weeks to get one knee and my thumb back on track.

I will continue going to the gym, and upping my workouts, as I am able. I feel no envy towards my friend, as I don’t want her size or bulk. She is never going to get skinny again, and that still remains a priority for me.

We are all different, with different life circumstances and I wish her the best as her competition nears, and I concurrently make and find my way in this maze of questions and unknowns facing me at this time.



The New Normal-Sleep Eludes Me

Today I start my new physical therapy and occupational therapy regime.

It has been a long time in the making and I finally got the orders and made the appointments for two sessions every Wednesday and Friday. It is a major change in my schedule and is going to take patience on my part to getting there and taking the hospital transportation to every appointment.

I had no idea what to expect today and I made the rookie mistake of calling the office and getting them all worked up. I was unsure of whether they were doing to pick me up, and more nervous that I would miss my appointments and everything would get messed up and off schedule.

Thankfully, I got the van to the hospital and made my appointments and all went well, but this is a huge change in my life with two days a week being dedicated to therapy for the entire morning and not getting home before 12 pm noon.

This is a major switch in my routine, and right now I am looking towards an eight week regime of these therapies. I have only had one surgery out of a needed four, and I am not thrilled about the prospect of cold weather and heading out to multiple appointments, surgeries, and continued rehab.

I hope that my second surgery is soon, and I can get started on rehabbing my body to its fullest capacity as right now I am really like a broke down human, in need of mechanical intervention.

I am struggling today with reality and my body which is so sleep deprived just needs to sleep these ills away. I don’t know whether I have the flu or if it sleep deprivation. Whatever it is my demeanor is not mine, my thoughts are off, and I feel so tired but sleep eludes me, and flu like symptoms invade my body’s orifices. I wish I could just pass out and sleep this away and get the respite I so desperately crave.

I am lost this afternoon, and trying to act like I am okay while in truth I am not, and I am scared of another sleepless night.

I must rest tonight for a bit and get some peace into my soul. I am so uncomfortable with my body’s ills and general feeling of unwellness. I want to cry but there is no tears. I need to sleep and there is no rest. I am in a dark hole of misery and pray for some, any type of relief. I welcome any break in the multiple maladies I am experiencing.

Anxiety runs through my veils and sits like a heavy rock in my chest. I yearn for a deep, solid breath that eludes me and my soul.

I am panicked that I won’t sleep tonight and I will have strung three nights together without rest.

I pray for peace, as I got an hour of sleep in this afternoon. It isn’t much but it is enough to take the edge off. I am dying for real rest and a comfort of slumber that I  haven’t had in a long while.

Sleep is a funny thing. It gives us peace and serenity like no other facet of the human dimension. The torture of sleep deprivation can drive one mad and loss control of one’s senses.

I am barely at my wits end and I yearn for rest and renewal of the best sort.

Tonight is the deal breaker and I will either sleep or have a horrid night of eyes wide shut stillness without the gift of sleep.

I am at the point of begging for sleep, although I don’t know who will hear me…….



My Ordinary Life to Unwavering Faith part 2

I mentioned in my first blog regarding my new-found unwavering faith that it didn’t take reading the Holy Bible or anything so Divine. It was through the ordinary that I fell once again onto unwavering faith.

This time with some Bible reading and copious journal writing I found my way through the midst and clouds of unsurety in the Divine and flatly and without hesitation found unwavering faith in a very peculiar way.

It appears my writing in my journal to God is the best and most robust means to get in touch with my Divine soul and its beliefs.

It was this past Friday and as I already mentioned in a

previous post I was staring at another weekend facing Adderall withdrawals. Given my only experience with Adderall withdrawals one would suspect that I would have been in a state of desperation, and calling, if not blaming the forces that didn’t line up to make this implosion on my weekend.

No, none of that happened and I simply accepted my punishment for a system that failed me, and somehow turned to my God journal and began to write. I didn’t write asking for help in getting the medication, I wrote out of a sense of solace and belief that I would endure the Adderall-free weekend and with God and the Holy Trinity and all that is Divine I asked for help and guidance in managing what I knew was going to be a terrible outcome.

I was serene and calm, as I quickly realized I wasn’t going to get my Adderall for the weekend. Due to what I believe was Divine Intervention, I focused my attention and my written words on being helped by the Divine to see me to Monday at which some point I would get an Adderall script. I noticed I wasn’t afraid, or trepidatious. A veil of calmness and giving it up to the Divine was my first instinct, as opposed to trying to circumvent the matter at hand and pray for what appeared to be a miracle in obtaining Adderall for the weekend.

I am not sure whether I had any pills left, but it certainly wasn’t my full dosage, and I was certainly in for a very rough ride over the next three days-none of this bothered me. I grabbed at my cross and medallion around my neck, and I KNEW I wasn’t going to go through this alone. Where did that knowledge come from? Before when I had unwavering faith I was still always escalating and feeling lost and all alone. It was not the case this time. Serenity filled my body, my soul, and my entire room.

I remember exactly what time it was when the phone call I never expected came through. It was 6:07 pm, and last I talked to medical personnel it was like 4:30 pm and the office closed at 5:00pm. I saw the number was local and I answered it instead of my usual let it go to voicemail. It was to my astonishment an affiliate with my doctor’s office calling to tell me that they had called in a script for Adderall to get me through the weekend.

I honestly can not put it in words what I felt, but I KNEW right then and there was a God, I didn’t really know too well, and a Divine moment had just transpired.

I slowly and quietly hung up the phone, and I began to cry. I had never experienced Grace like that before besides my daughter’s birth, and the saving of her live at 11.5 weeks, and I NEVER gave thanks to God or the Divine either time. God had never entered my mind at either one of those times.

Now here I was, sitting on my bed, with my journal to God out, and lots of writing, and I had just experienced a minor miracle. I was sure it was from the Divine, as there were no questions in my mind or soul, and now there were no questions about God, the Divine, and the Presence of God in my life.

Sure you say, you are addicted to Adderall and you got your fix! No not so,; nothing could be farther from the TRUTH. The most amazing part of this story is the calmness, and solace I had from God and the Divine regarding getting through the weekend without Adderall. It was someone else’s mistake as to why I didn’t get the script and I didn’t lash out at anyone which was very new for me.

My Adderall withdrawal was so scary and something that spooked  me so much the last time it can only be Divine Grace that gave me the solace and comfort to take the high road and not go ape-shit on any unsuspected person. The calmness and the solace I felt going into the weekend without my Adderall script was second to nothing I have ever experienced before. I gave up all mortal control which is essentially none, and I submitted to God and the Holy Trinity for my comfort and level-headedness about the situation.

I can only say I will continue to read the Holy Bible and get to know God and the Divine as well as I am able as I rest assured I have unwavering faith and complete faith in the Holy Trinity.

I am forever changed, I am not sure what to call it-Born again? I am not sure what that really means but I experienced a moment like none other. I will leave it at that, forever changed, and with solace running through my core that I am never alone in this world.



Beating Anorexia and Regaining My Life Back

Today I had a deep and sobering conversation with a dear friend. It is they who are struggling to keep their boat afloat and for the first time in a long time I was the friend who listened and comforted.

The issues surrounding my friend have a lot of pieces to the shattered puzzle and on top of that with the gravity of the world upon her shoulders she is facing having to tell her child that life as the “perfect parent” might not be continuing as the child as known it their entire life.

It brought me back to lots of places of a parent but most searingly to the point three years ago when I was stricken with anorexia that was at its worst and told by a doctor I wasn’t the parent I wanted to be to  Bella and nor could I be. In fact, the doctor went on to say that I wasn’t in any position to parent Bella. She continued as she hammered me over the skull with a sledge hammer to inform me it was in Bella’s best interest not to see me in my current state of starvation, as it only made her worry and parentalize me. Meaning in layman’s terms she was taking on the role of parent and worrying about me as if I was the child. I took mostly from the conversation that I was a failure and a burden to my beloved Bella.

Of course that isn’t what I wanted to be or do, so I promised my ex-wife I would step back out of Bella’s everyday life and free her from worry, and my inability to be the parent I so desperately wanted to be.

Those were some really dark times. I love my daughter Bella like nothing else in the world, and I was so distraught at the truth that I couldn’t parent Bella at this time. My anorexia had grown so big and so unyielding that it spilled out of my life and into Bella’s life which was not acceptable. I cried everyday, all the time. I cried for poor Bella, and I cried for myself. Nothing could be so painful as being sidelined as Bella’s parent.

I begged and pleaded with God to take away my pain and the pain sitting on the top of Bella’s shoulders. With true love it doesn’t work that way, and we both had to suffer the consequences of my anorexia. Never have I felt so helpless and guilty for the situation I unknowingly put Bella in. I had grown used to pain and suffering in myself, but the thought of putting it upon my daughter was too much to bear.

I eventually found solace in knowing that Bella was not in pain or stressed about me. It was easier once I accepted my role in Bella’s life as not healthy. I wanted nothing more than for my little girl to feel safe and without worry for me. I was willing to sacrifice my needs and wants with Bella to see that she was a happy, normal kid without me dragging her down.

My friend and I get along so well for so many reasons, but it is the shared love of our children that really is the glue of our friendship. I hurt and ache for my friend right now. Her pain is my pain in a funny sort of way.

I pray for her and her child that things start to turn around soon for them. I don’t know what the future holds for them and if things are going to get worse before they get better for them. I do know where there is love their is hope, and my friend lacks for no love for the world and her child.

It is funny in a sick sort of way how other peoples problems drawn us in to our own lives and pain that we have experienced.

I am so grateful to be where I am at this moment with myself and with Bella. The anorexia has not won and the battle continues. With this past weekend with Bella and sharing in the campaign together, I am mustering up the strength to fight more fiercely and more ultimately. I know there are too many good times that lay ahead for myself and Bella if I can just put this monster of anorexia to sleep once and for all.

As it is now three years later, and I am back to being a mommy to Bella, and coming off a magical weekend together where her dream of working on the Clinton campaign came true with a little help from mom, we were able to make calls to prospective voters to see if they were voting for Hillary. It was amazing, as I set beside her on a phone and she sat next to me with a phone and we worked to see our candidate get closer to getting elected than before. We did this both Saturday and Sunday, and BLISS is the only way to describe it.

Anorexia as a disease robbed me of many things, too numerous to mention, but at the same time as I have slowly recovered I have had so many amazing moments that wouldn’t have been so amazing if they hadn’t been taken away from me at some point by the insidious anorexia.

I am far from a full recovery and that is what I really want to discuss here. Even with partial recovery I am so much more filled with life and living and enjoying moments like this weekend with my Bella. It is hard to go back to the beginning and realize the arduous journey I would so painstakingly traverse on my way around the circle of life and well to enjoy living and life once again.

So much is still eluding me with Bella and in all types of other ways. I think my message here is about lost and found. I lost my life to anorexia and as I recover I celebrate to  the high heavens all that is returning to me.

I sit here right now and wonder with the blissful experience of this weekend with Bella, who come I can’t just snap out of my anorexic mindset all together and get on fully with living and celebrating life? I wish I had an answer for this question. I do know that the more I return to normal and weekends spent like this past one with Bella I am urged on inwardly to prevail and overcome whatever next hurdle lays in my pathway to a full recovery.

It wasn’t that long ago I was pretty sure I would not see a full recovery because my mind was so twisted with this disease. After a weekend like this one, I am newly encouraged that I may be able to feed off the bliss and connectedness of sharing life with my loved ones, and maybe, just maybe make a full recovery despite my hesitation and the doubts of those who love me.

Anorexia is so complex and it completely ravages the body, mind, soul, and life of the patient. There have been so many times I wanted to overcome Anorexia and I failed and missed out on really meaningful family stuff that I can’t get back. I have learned not to harbor the past and my failures, but to look ahead to the future and position my mind and body for success that once failed me.

Anorexia is insidious, but I truly believe it can be broken and boxed up and dumped in a far away dumpster that will not let the pain and suffering endured haunt a patient forever and a day.

I am of the belief that the greatest challenge is the first success that a patient experiences with overcoming anorexia. No matter how small or minute it is the seed that gets planted in the healthy psyche you still have for future successes to come your way. We are all different and no two anorexic stories are a like. It is senseless to compare yourself to another anorexic patient in the worst of times and the best of times.

I believe this weekend shared with Bella is a major turning point in my recovery from anorexia. This doesn’t mean I am cured or will not miss other opportunities to succeed but it gave me a sweet taste of life and living it to the max that has eluded all of us with anorexia and will elude us further unless we gain the courage to make a small success that you needn’t even share with anyone else.

Overcoming anorexia is not a competition and I hope that I am not coming across as someone who is out of the darkness. I am far from a recovery where I feel safe to say I am in remission. All I have is today, yesterday and the magic, and the possibilities of tomorrow that are complex and my walls of my disease are not just going to come crumbling down.

I am here to say I am with you in pain and anguish, and I am also here to share in the feats of success whatever and however they may come on your road to recovery.

I have doubted myself as a recovering anorexic for a long time. I believe we must grow our positive thoughts as small as they may be, and let the journey of recovery envelop us as we still stumble, fall, and get back up on the road to well and recovery for everyone of us.



Well This is a Post That Started Far From Where it ENDED…….

I am thinking a lot about my head and all that is going on in it.

I first, and most am grateful for my brain and mind! I know, very weird to be so into my head and its workings……I have been trying to normalize my speech and my discussion of my fiery brain and my mind that is morphing, into the mini-mental epicenter of my Universe.

I started my DSYORDER blog and hope to have a more radical place to write about my Pure Mania.

I can’t write without the Pure Mania being part of my persona and part of anything I talk about in relationship to myself.

I am feeling stifled and shut up and off on my blogs as I try to take the Pure Mania out of my persona, but it is an impossible task.  I am Corey, I have Pure Mania, and I am very different in the way my brain and body work.

Maybe that is saying enough, it certainly doesn’t cover the realities and examples of my differences, and I don’t know how to write and be authentic without my brain, and its energy over my body being brought up, and woven into my writing. How can I leave out a defining piece of myself in my prose that is written from  my soul?

So maybe I write with my Pure Mania, but I regulate it to the basics and not the eccentric and the oddities that comprise the disease that defines me?

I will try to write with a little less of me in my prose and hope that my authenticity is not lost on my writing or on myself. I feel this is all wrong to be honest. I think in reality I got too raw with my Pure Mania and that can certainly be driven back without sacrificing my authenticity and the originality of my writing.

Today I had an amazing conversation with a dear friend, that caught me off guard, and drove me to my knees. It was regarding our children, and trying to be the “perfect parents” to our children. And then the day you have feared in your worst nightmares arrives-You realize from one source or maybe more, that you are NOT the perfect parent, and that in fact, what lays in front of you will make you far from the parent you have spent your life with your child trying to be.

Three years ago in battling anorexia, and being much sicker, I had a psychiatrist tell me to my face that I wasn’t the parent I wanted to be to my Bella, and at that time I couldn’t be the parent I wanted to be. Today the conversation came up and surprised me, and in sharing my story I was instantly driven to tears from the pain and anguish of that time in my life three years ago. Yes the tears, and heartache were right there instantly, as I recanted the story and the feelings of dying, of failure, of desperation, of not wanting to let my little girl down.

There were no guarantees given to me that she would be okay. But this weekend, Grace, as I know it was experienced by my daughter and I together. The details are not all that important-we were able to go work at the local Clinton campaign office and because of my National affiliation she at 13, was able to sit beside me and call prospective voters to see if they would be voting for HRC. It was something she has begged me to do, but I knew she wasn’t old enough and we weren’t signed up. By the grace of God, we showed up, and after introducing her as my daughter, the local staff let Bella experience her dream come true of working on HRC’s campaign. I sat at the table with her, gave her instructions, and she and I made phone calls both Saturday and Sunday, blissfully as mommy and daughter, three years after being told I couldn’t be the parent I wanted to be.

As I told my friend, our children love us unconditionally the way we love them. Bella still worries about my health, but we ate, and we were involved together in a cause that means something very much to the two of us. I told my friend who is coming to terms with her imperfections, and the impending conversation she might have to have with her child, and I felt immediately leveled by my own story and situation. The tears quickly dried up with the story of this weekend and so many other things that I have returned to being for my daughter.

My friend doesn’t have hope right now, and nothing is as enormous, and empty and stark as hopelessness. I have no magic words for my friend, only words of a tomorrow at some point where she too will share a moment of bliss once again with her child.

Oh how I wish I could take her pain away and make things all better for her and her beloved child. However, I am a mortal and I am without the proper equipment to change her path and her journey that she must traverse. I could guarantee her that her child will once again love her unconditionally. That much I know is true of good parents and amazing children.

So this was a post that was supposed to be about me and my Pure Mania, and instead it is about the human condition in all of us, and the pain guaranteed in this world, no matter how much we do to avoid it. I didn’t neeed to mention my pure Mania, and in fact during that heart-breaking conversation, my fire in my brain quelled, my body slowed down, and my heart and my soul grew to envelope her and her pain. Life is so filled with pain and joy, and you can’t experience one without the other. I know I didn’t help solve anything my friend is facing, but I gave her what I had to offer, ME. Flawed, damaged, risen from the ashes, and now enjoying a rest inbetween the pain and sorrow that life will bring to me.

I am so grateful to my friend, I should be at the campaign, but she needs me as sleep eludes her, and I vow to myself not to leave her before the peace she so desperately seeks cradles her fragile being. Sleep is not her answer, and her answers may cause greater pain than today, but a respite of sleep for her broken heart and beautiful soul and person are in order. As she settles sown I list through the phone, and I here the ebbing of her pain momentarily as she finally soothes herself with the darkness of night and the solace of the quieting of her mind.

Tomorrow she will have to deal with this more, and come to resolutions she may not like, or that don’t seem acceptable to her. Tomorrow is a new day,  as she finally yawns and gives in to the momentary peace that sleep will provide, I will eventually make my way to the campaign, knowing my dearest friend is asleep for at least enough time for me to work at the local campaign, before coming home and working the national campaign.

Sleep is coming to her, my heart is heavy yet light. We all traverse through this world at different trajectories and different times and places. I realize with myself, I am coming out of the darkness, the pain, and the angst, and joy, love, and light are right in front of me. My dear friend reminded me of where I was three years ago, and although I wish it wasn’t because of her current life’s circumstances, I am so grateful for the warmth, and the totality of being, I have waited three long years to experience.

I believe her sleep is very near, as her restlessness settles down, and the hard breathing of her heaviness of heart and soul are overcome with the lightness brought on by sleep. She isn’t fully asleep, and seems to be fighting it, I believe in fear of waking up tomorrow with a mountain planted right in front of her. We aren’t talking, I listen to her as I quietly type on my keyboard. Yet she knows through the phone and the various sounds of my house and noisy pug, I am HERE and I will not leave her. I was granted this gift at one point in my life and never thought I could repay it. Well here I am, I am in the bunker with my dear friend, who mentioned SHE might be too much for me, and I gave her my WORD, she is not too much and I give her what I have to offer; ME.



Maniacal Musings: The Day Ahead

I slept for like an hour between 12-1am. It is a bit unusual that I have been sleeping less than 2 hours a  night. I am hanging in there and don’t feel any adverse residual effects at this time.

When I wake up in the maniac’s hours ready to work I see in front of me this big day filled with lots of endless possibilities and potential. I never wake up grouchy or out of sorts, and I go from completely being asleep to completely being awake. There is no transition.

My mindset is always a hurried a basket of rapidly paced thoughts to work out as fast as possible.  I first go to the store with Julia Bleu and get my coffee and race home to take my Adderall to complete the golden elixir.

Lately I have been reading the Holy Bible and writing in my journal during the maniac’s hours. I didn’t do that today, in fact I didn’t do much besides goof off on Facebook after 8 am as I had internet problems. I spent the maniac’s hours writing in my Word documents and trying to configure a website that would be more helpful to my anorexic readers.

A friend of mine on Facebook gave me the blog site of her brother, who has compiled an amazing blog on everything Bipolar. I can not wait to read his blog in its entirety as he has many personal posts, and a wise array of helpful links. I can’t help but think and wish I had Bipolar. There is medication, a community, and lots of support. I wish I knew just one other person with pure mania to talk with and share experiences. I have tried talking to normal people or people without pure mania and it is always a disaster, and always falls way short of what I am looking for.

Yesterday I started a new blog for my Pure Mania called DSYORDER, and I will keep my crazy and Madness to this blog for the most part as I think as I delve deeper into my brain and attached mind I am not sure I am connecting with readers who have no idea what the hell I am writing about.

I wrote a lot this morning and saved it, and printed it so I could rework the words and configuration on a hard copy. I called the internet provider at 8 am and had my router hard set and I was back on the internet. I called my friend in Australia on the Facebook phone and began to think about my first blog of today.

I wanted to write about my mindset of what it is like when I wake up for the day. If I start where I left off, I would say that after the golden elixir I am rearing to go and chomping at the bit to do something productive for those early morning hours. I am engaged and happy whether I am reading and journaling or writing a blog.

I feel like my blog writing has taken a turn away from the anorexia story and I want to get back on that story today as a number one priority. I still have quite a ways to go in the story and I know I have been slow with the writing.

I usually start getting antsy around 5 am or so, and the last hour until six am is usually hard on me. I always push through and a lot of time pick up a second wind that jets me well past 8 am.

Today, my day is not usual or customary and I am struggling to stay focused and in the moment with my writing and get this blog of my mindset out to publish in a timely manner.

After around 8am, I usually take a break from writing and the computer and try to get as much done around the house as I can in a little less than an hour.

Julia Bleu gets fed and taken care of, and I usually try to make any familial phone calls during this time.

The only way to describe the waking up in the maniac’s hours is crazy, enthusiastic and motivated.

My productivity is usually quite high and my spirits are just as high and I needn’t the time or have the desire for talking to anyone else besides my beloved Julia Bleu.

I am super psyched for the day today, have way too much to do, and accomplish, so prioritizing will be essential to a fruitful day. I am as always optimistic and I feel like for the most part I am walking on clouds.

This is all part of the Pure Mania, put I see there is a way to write without words that spook anyone or turn anyone away. I am happy to share my mind and what I think, and I am grateful this morning to share with you the morning perspective I own from when I awaken.



Think Again!

After coming clean this morning about my mind morphing I believe there are people who really haven’t a clue as to Pure Mania and it’s affects on the brain and body.

As much as I have described it and spoke about various incidences I fear there are a lot of people who are not schooled on mental illness and especially not the rare pure mania I possess.

So I am left at a cross-roads of such-do I keep trying to explain something that the neurologists can’t explain, and I try as I may to describe it in terms of my brain and the fiery brilliance that burns so eloquently? Do I let it go, and not worry I have lost readers who can’t keep up with my thoughts and my revelations? I am not one to work away from a topic, especially one so freaking close to me and myself/

I think I may try another approach. I may take the kit gloves off and really get gritty about what I experience that is far from anyone’s normal and hopeful make a statement at some point in the discussion to the hardship of living not just with rare pure mania, but also with mental illness where I think I really lose a lot of the readers.

Am I Mad with Mania? You bet, and would a neurologist tell you or anyone else otherwise? No!. What does Mad equate to in laymen terms? I haven’t a clue as I am so far from normal and when I feel normality I run and hide in fear of losing my brilliant fire that sets my brain a blaze.

I think I write this more for me, and with time, others will begin to get pieces of it, as some already have and now know what they call bipolar mania is not anything like the mania I seemingly alone in this hemisphere experience. I wish I shared commonality with bipolar patients, or maybe I don’t?, The rapid cycling and up and down smiles to tears behavior is a bit more than I can take. perhaps just going silent on my Pure Mania is the answer. I am aware of it to a certain degree, and I am endeared to the ramifications of such a rare condition.

I have always known and felt different when it came to brains, and mental disorders. I shouldn’t harbor any sadness or ill will for a society that doesn’t get my condition. I was well aware of this fact when I was not open about it, and perhaps, just living it out with its oddities and peculiar nature is best done solitarily and without any judgement or misconceived perceptions as to what Mania Madness is all about.

I think I am going to leave what I have written out there, but not offer further explanation for something I can’t really speak to besides in relationship to me. I know of nobody else with this condition and I would really give most anything to meet the others like me, who struggle to find  a place of acceptance and reprieve.

So forget the fire in the brain, the morphing of the mind. It is all well and good, and fine that it is not understood for what it truly is: a sacred gift of the Gods and Angels. I feel rightfully so in writing about Gods and angels because I am a believer of them to a degree and that degree gets me from pain and angst to laughter and gratitude for my twisted brain as some would see it. With no medication to treat it, and no real help, I get the off-putting nature of response to my Mania Madness. Perhaps it is all in the word Madness? I will not replace it with a more pristine word that doesn’t dirty the mind and tarnish the soul.

I am not going to work this hard to explain my demons and my angels in relationship to my Mania Madness. I will and I am ready to write about my angels and demons in the sanctity of my so-called Divine life I know I live and breath with others who are of similar lineage.

Truth is, we are all mentally ill. Yep, there isn’t a person in this world who escapes a DSM-V diagnosis. For that I am sure of. Some people have mild forms and illnesses and others aren’t as fortunate but nobody escapes the DSM-V criteria for one mental illness or another. I believe my casual use of the world Madness losses people on a multitude of levels. Madness in itself is not one dimensional or linear, and breeds itself into many forms with different aspects.

I am moving away from my gritty description of fire in the brain, and when I write and it is relevant I will mention it without worry or much ado about anything I need to further explain. I guess as I have always known, my illness would push away many unable to see the rainbow of kaleidoscopes of madness in one’s brain, and I no longer worry about those who can’t keep up and I have lost along the way. I barely understand it, and comprehend it, so how could I ever expect anyone without a desire for such knowledge to understand me at all in our shared reality.

So there you have it, we will share reality and it will be very different for all of those involved. Many people are eager to discuss Madness and other sorts of ills, but most people want something vanilla and straightforward-I get it and yet I don’t at all. I will save my posts on my pure mania for another blog called DYSORDER where I will speak without a breath to my Mania Madness, and the golden elixir, and the maniac’s hours I live and write by. No I wont disappear from my other blogs, but I need a space or place to figure this out without judgement and correcting others for not getting it. The power of “getting it” resides on me, but there are people not willing to accept the truth of my illness as I have lived it and do live it.

I fill liberated tonight as I write this freeing blog, from the naysayers, the wannabes, and those who it is just too much to handle.

I have plenty of topics to write about that fit nicely in one of my other blogs where we all can share and exchange thoughts and ideas. This DYSORDER blog is not for the faint of heart or those looking for tidy answers. I am afraid from my limited knowledge that the answers are not tidy or pretty, and probably aren’t of interest to people looking for a more centrist blog which a lot of mine are.

We will find a place for my DYSORDER and from there I will soar with freedom I have not experienced as I remained shackled to the common ideas and topics of most of my blogs. I am free and you the reader without interest needn’t run away, as I will separate the illness, from the me that is filled with the pure bliss of writing for you the reader and will work extra hard to meld topics together that make my writing more interesting and on target for a win-win compatibility with my faithful readers.

DYSORDER is something I need, probably not you the reader unless this sort of subject speaks to you. I think it is all set and I will write for my DSYORDER BLOG and my maniacal musings where my greatest readership is located and I am so indebted to. These readers are located close to me and waiting for my next post. I feel your warmth, as I reel in the Mania, and put it in a different spot to be read by only those who want to follow me on this journey. It will not be closed, as anything I write is for all of my readers, whether I hit the mark or not. Developing audiences which I am doing at this moment is scary and my anorexia readers have taught me so much about keeping up with the story lines and giving them the hope, the help, the support that only a fellow anorexic can provide.

We are really good here at this moment. I am eager to write to my broader base and follow up with my new audience I seek to build in my blog DSYORDER.

I will be writing a lot of readers tonight-something I hope for everyone. And let it never be lost I am so grateful to each one of my readers, that forces me to face the darkness of the early morning to blog to you, who have bought into me, and helped me grow so much as a person and a writer. A really heartfelt Thank You is in order for all of you. Enjoy that which I write that touches you, and never mind the other stuff that isn’t for you at this time or ever given who you are and what you like.

Peace out to from this #AMED up and #HECTIC maniac who will bring normalcy to my blogs for my precious readers. For those on the ride of DYSORDER here we go. Let the mayhem begin. See you back on Maniacal Musing.



Maniacal Musings: Daily Rituals

I have always lived with rituals defining parts of my day.

I have the maniac’s hours from 12:30 am to 6 am, and then Corey’s Chronicles from 3 pm to 7 pm.

In between there have been hours set aside for whatever needed doing or taking care of. Now with my physical therapy and occupational therapy twice a week from 8 am to 11:30 am, and the election only 16 days away, I am entering time where basically my entire day is going to be a ritual until the campaign drops off and the therapies go away.

I am a person who does well with rituals, and I am always looking to make more or add more to a pretty structured day. My maniac’s hours are used to now read the Bible and write in my private journal, and the time right after that is writing and blogging time to get my first blog out for the day.

I usually wing it from 10-2:30 pm and fill the time with appointments and errands as I get ready for Corey’s Chronicles hours to write at least my second blog for the day. Without structure of this sort, and suffering from Pure Mania, I would have a day filled with lots of good ideas and great intentions but nothing surely to show for it at the end of the day.

I am somewhat surprised that more people don’t have more structure into their day, and go randomly from waking up, to school, or work, back home for the day to wander aimlessly trying to fix dinner and create something out of the night for themselves.

The fire in my brain, is too brilliant and hot to let it smolder on its own, without direction and structure. I sometimes feel it is the strict structure of my days, with some free time to not feel like a robot, that makes me as productive and happy about my accomplishments as I am usually everyday.

My day is set up to maximize accomplishments, and I don’t know how normal or regular that is. I accomplish writing pieces everyday, and set other goals that keep me in forward motion, and from straying from my bigger daily picture. My blogs are a gift from the Universe. Once I left school due to my injuries and surgeries I needed a place and something to partake in that would give me a sense of academic accomplishment as well as furthering my overall goal to improve drastically as a writer.

I have always had the maniac’s hours, but Corey’s Chronicles came about because I had too much idle time on my hands and I couldn’t for the life of me produce a second blog for the day, without making it a formality. I think quite a few people can relate to that, but I really don’t understand the WHY?

Once I declared I was writing not one but at least two blogs a day, Corey’s Chronicles seemed the perfect footnote to my afternoon spent hammering away at another post. I have gotten myself so habituated that I can honestly say the drive to write supersedes any conflict or reticence on my part to rely on the maniac’s hours and Corey’s Chronicles.

With switching up my maniac’s hours to reading the Holy Bible and writing in my journal, I have no problem, sitting still after that and blogging my first post a bit later. I have yet to miss a post after the maniac’s hours and I believe it is because I and my writing have become one with the indentured structure I lived within for so many months.

I can also with time permitting start to right a second blog right after the first some days, as my writing flows through my fiery brain into my mind and through my finger tips on the keyboard.

I write now with somewhat less structure than I did in the past, but my desire to write is far greater than ever before and my productivity is off the charts with my blog posts. At some point structure fueled my fire to write daily, until I got enough fire in my desire to write that it wasn’t necessary anymore and I can now write a blog with a lot less time but much more thought that now allows me to use the structure of the maniac’s hours to read the Holy Bible and write judiciously in my journal. I admit without the reading structure at this point I would not be reading daily and covering as much ground as I am, or writing so saliently in my journal for future posts on my spirituality.

I wonder deeply and ponder what my days look like when I return to school in January for Spring semester. I know my blogs must continue and will probably return to the first one being written during the maniac’s hours along with completing course work. I believe the Holy Bible will be done by then but I like the structured reading I have put into my day that otherwise would be a hope, a dream, but surely not an accomplishment.

I am aware that I am only one person, and that somethings might need to change. I think that is why I write about it now in October when the Spring semester is far away in January. I need to learn to prioritize with reasonableness that which I have as daily goals, and those loftier goals that supersede daily structured living and working.

It is going to be very difficult to give up on my blogs, even if I can only reasonably write one post a day. My goals with my school work are high and out of this atmosphere and I will not compromise on my school goals when it comes to my academic achievement.

I will find a way, and I have some time before school starts to play around with different paradigms and see which one will work best for me. I am not done writing this blog but already know what my next blog will be. I love the feeding frenzy my fiery brain brings to my mind and the possibilities that exist for me to try and conquer.

I am so grateful for this last bit of school off, so I can really do what I want to do and write, and write some more, with the emphasis on being a better, stronger writer, who writes from the ordinary and every so often makes it sacred.