When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Gets Stronger


Welcome to the Home of ShatteredWishes!

This blog is dedicated to all of my wonderful readers who I have met and cried with over the years. It’s for the ones who have bipolar, no scratch that, it’s for anyone who has ever dealt with mental illness. The ones who search and search for “The One” but can NEVER seem to find him/her. The ones who drink and drink all the way down to the bottom of a bottle, smoke their whole lives away, or just can’t break the endless cycle of addiction.

This is my story. This is your story too my friends.

I have had a lot of toxic people come and go in the past, and through my hardships, I learned the power of self-compassion and forgiveness. I have also learned to let go of a lot of things that used to cause me stress and worry. I had cataloged some of my journey in two previous blogs, which you can read here in case you’re interested:

Musings of an Unchained Soul – (2013-2015)

Love With a Dark Heart in Chains – (2015-2017)

Being bipolar isn’t easy, not by a long shot, but I don’t plan on letting it conquer me in any way, shape or form. So, join me as I navigate my way through my relationships and battles with mental illness. Hopefully, I can help you on your journey too and we can learn how to survive this crazy world together!

“Remember you were given this life because you’re strong enough to live it”

Stay tuned.


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Life Showed Me Yesterday – “There is a Reason You Survived Lynn.”


Everyone has issues. We complain about everything – jobs, relationships, even when our technology craps out on us. But have you ever thought, “does this trivial crap even matter?” Look, I am not gonna get all “High and Mighty” on you guys, because I can honestly say, I have spent the last 11 years buried underneath a huge pile of trivial crap. Seriously. I did the endless (and pointless) dance of online dating, had a bunch of meaningless one-night stands, ended up at the bottom of a liquor bottle countless times, and I went spinning and spinning in a manic mess fueled by an overwhelming online addiction. (Online addiction meaning hours and hours on social media, forums, chatrooms, sex sites, etc. And don’t you tell me that being glued to your tablet or phone for countless hours isn’t addiction. Who are you kidding?)

In recent weeks, I have had a lot of ups and downs. I had experiences that sent my Bipolar Illness into complete overdrive, and when I crashed down to Earth, my brain was frantically trying to figure out the difference between God’s work and what doctors have told me is mania. This is not a “preachy” post I promise you, but as a person who always believed in God, I can’t even describe to you what happened when I started traveling the fantastical journey deep into the essence of the universe guided by the Hand of the Divine. I was filled – overcome with the presence of God in my heart, and then in one big flash of ambulances, doctors, pills, (so many damn pills), and psych wards, all of it was taken away and I was told by “professionals” that everything I experienced was mania. Hmm. Do they tell the preacher in the church who is filled with the Holy Spirit and praises Jesus at the top of his lungs that he is “hearing voices” and is mentally ill?  Trust me I have been REALLY struggling with that paradox recently.

I met up with an old friend from my past yesterday who was in a Day Treatment Program with me called Gateway back in 2007, right when I was released from the psych ward after a total manic blowout. (I had gone off meds for three WHOLE years, thinking what most people think: “I don’t need meds, I got this.” I got news for you guys, that shit COMES BACK so don’t even try and fool yourselves). Anyway, Gateway is also where I met my therapist of 11 years, along with a host of messed up people – drug addicts, alcoholics, mental patients, you name it. We were all so screwed up, me included. I can’t even tell you what it did to me to know that after I tried to be med-free, and SUCCEEDED for three years, to have all that psychosis, mania or whatever the hell, come back and destroy my life all over again. I went straight for the bottle, along with my old friend and the countless others there. We were ALL in pain, but though that pain, we bonded. This group of users, misfits and outcasts became my family for the next two years, and we all cried, laughed and healed together. Due to funding issues, (which is relevant to the problems we are having today), Gateway closed, and all of us went our separate ways, including my old friend.  I ended up following my therapist to a counseling center and continued treatment with him, which in itself is a total miracle that place was allowed to remain open.

Years passed, and I had been doing nothing but wasting time. Complaining, whining, bitching about the most insignificant shit, (like a guy ghosting me and making my whole world crumble, Jesus Christ, what a total waste of energy). I was letting being bipolar be my excuse to lay and wallow in it, and I hate to say it, but that stigma they slap on us is totally true sometimes. My therapist told me that he has clients who straight up say, “I am never working again, I am going to stay on the system.” Like you know, that’s it, I am mentally ill, so I can’t do anything else. And you wonder why people treat us the way they do, huh? But then again, I am TOTALLY guilty of doing this too, like I said the last 11 years of my life living on disability is living proof of that.

Meeting my old friend yesterday was a wake-up call. I arranged for her to meet my therapist to talk about old times, (my old friend was in Gateway long before I got there), but the happy reunion we were having took a somber turn. One by one, name my name, we counted how many people from Gateway are DEAD today. They didn’t make it man, they didn’t make it. I can’t tell you what that did to me, and I know mental health professionals are supposed to show restraint and be reserved, but it totally looked like my therapist almost broke down in tears. Gateway closed because of the lack of funding, and all those tortured souls who were making progress didn’t get the help they needed and are DEAD today. People can say what they want today about the whole “we need more mental health resources, let’s do something about it,” but as someone who is a living witness of the REAL shit that is happening, that damn statement means as much to me as the frickin’ “sending our thoughts and prayers” nonsense.

Oh but it didn’t end there. When I came home, my mom, (who has been really sick lately), sat with me and told me that she contemplated killing herself last week when I went to help my dad work on our new house. I cried with my mom and FELT her pain, because I truly understand it, more than anyone really could. I told my mom what I found out about all the people from Gateway, I told my mom about my struggles with God and what is REAL and what is mental illness, but most of all, I told my mom that I loved her so, so much, and it’s not her time to go yet, it just ISN’T.

I went and took a shower after all that, in an attempt to wash away all the pain that was in my heart during the day’s events, and then I started thinking, REALLY thinking about what is really going on here. It is no coincidence that I had a brush with psychosis last week that almost landed me in the hospital. It is no coincidence that my sister has now moved on and is most likely going to shack up with her new boyfriend, leaving me to look after my parents. It is no coincidence that I had to literally slap the shit out myself for all this lack of self-discipline by staying up all night on the computer, wasting away countless hours on total nonsense.

My dad needs help renovating the new house because we can’t afford any help. The man is nearing 70 and works like a 20-year-old Mexican, (yeah, spare me the “politically correct” shit on that one, I don’t give a damn anymore about any of it). The point is, the time is NOW to stop hiding behind this mental illness, and start making REAL-LIFE changes to do the right thing here. My dad needs my help now. My mom needs me to take her to her doctor’s appointments so we can figure out what the hell is wrong with her. My parents need me to provide a good solid income to help them live into their twilight years with comfort and ease. So, enough is enough of this disability bullshit. You can say what you want, but it’s EVERY DAMN CHILD’S responsibility to take care of their elders. Don’t even try and say it isn’t, I don’t want to hear it.

At the end of all of this, I did a recount of all the times in my life I have had a brush with Death. All the nights binge drinking and the driving 120 mph like a mad woman. All the car accidents I got into due to manic episodes, (amazing that alcohol didn’t even have a hand in those, go figure). All the dangerous risks I took over the many years, being totally and completely lost in a bipolar haze and raging in a self-destructive path of crazy alcoholism.

God had a hand in me being alive through all of this, you can bet on that one. I am just going to go ahead and believe anyway, despite what any of the doctors say, especially because of these revelations I am sharing with you now. All those people who were in Gateway are dead. They weren’t saved, they were thrown back out to the wolves and into the clutches of their addictions and mental illnesses, right when they were making progressive breakthroughs. But there is light in the midst of this dark, heartbreaking, depressing tale.

Dr. John M. Grohol, Treasurer and Board Member of the Society for Participatory Medicine and the Founder and CEO of “Psych Central – Mental health & psychology information and support.” is the LIGHT for all of us struggling today with mental illness. I have been a member of the forum on PyschCentral for 6 years, with more than 20,000 posts under my belt, lending support and rebuilding the camaraderie I had with all those magnificent and misunderstood souls that I knew back in Gateway. Thanks to DocJohn’s effort, Psych Central has become the Internet’s leading mental health and psychology network, (online since January 1995), reaching over 4 million unique visitors every month and named one of the 50 Best Websites by TIME.com in 2008. For over 20 years, the souls that have been pouring into PyschCentral have gotten REAL answers from their AMAZING peers who suffer with mental illness, and who offer excellent advice with comforting support.

In a time where the world has “thoughts and prayers, let’s do more for the mentally ill,” stuck on a meaningless broken record, DocJohn has been out there for 20 years, making a REAL difference in the mental health community, and has provided us all with a place to find peace.

This blog has recently been inducted into the “PsychCentral’s Bipolar Resource” section of DocJohn’s amazing website, and I am making it my top priority to reach as many souls as possible as I continue on my journey of sobriety and relentless dedication to improving my life. This new mission, God’s mission, is to provide for my parents, and kick the shit out of Bipolar 1.

If you are struggling, PLEASE give PsychCental a chance, and if the website is too overwhelming for you, start here: Forums at PsychCentral  This is a section where you can post, share your story and get the help you need. That’s where I started back in 2012.

There is help out there. There is hope.

This post is dedicated to all the lost souls of the The Gateway Program for Mental Health and Substance Abuse – Long Island, NY – 2002-2009 


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My 4 month Imprisonment in a Psych Ward and How Falling in Love Saved Me


I apparently became the “ghoster” to many of my friends during the past 4 months because of a complete violent, manic episode that led to months of hell in a rubber room at NCUI Hospital in New York. Every night like clockwork at 7:30pm I waited by the door for my parents to visit me, (they never came), and every night the night staff forced me from the door and five or six huge Nassau Police officers wrestled me to the ground, ripped down my underwear, and gave me a huge Haldol injection, and essentially murdered me and my spirit for two months straight. Every night the smoke alarm would blink at me too, and for some reason I woke up with burn marks on my legs the next morning.

Heaven and Hell answered as I screamed to the Heavens for Jesus Christ to kill me from one of the highest points in New York City where the Hospital stood, and as I cursed Jesus’ name for condemning my spirit to that incessant torture, I died every night. And every morning, I sat with a gentleman named William and read the absolute perfect passage in the New Testament during breakfast, which I would selflessly give away because there was not enough food for all of the patients there. I was their angel. I gave out snacks, helped with silverware when the meals came and jumped in to aid our little family and “heaven” as I called it, right there on the 14th floor.

Every night those cops killed me in that rubber room, they destroyed my spirit, they made me a broken woman, but every morning they peeled me from the floor, hydrated and fed me and I used the place for all it was worth. I attended every group. I became the best interpretive dancer and singer they had ever seen, I used my muscles that I gained strength from after every attack in the rubber room, and learned how to manipulate my body, mind and soul for the ultimate survival.

They just couldn’t figure it out. Every morning a team of doctors came to see me, led by the head psychiatrist, Dr. Barris, because by the time the morning came and I was off to fight another battle, I was completely coherent and knew everything that was happening to me and my surroundings. They tried everything, and most of all, they couldn’t understand all the hurricanes, tornadoes, car accidents, murders and during my worst night ever the 600 lightning strikes that rocked my little Long Island neighborhood.

I was born without a thyroid gland, the rarest case in history, and the technology they used to keep me alive when I spent the first six months of my life in a hospital is probably unheard of. The truth of the matter is my mind is a machine and when I have these psychotic breaks I see stars, and patterns in the universe. In the “Quiet Room” I was anything but quiet. I punched the glass to the outside, I kickboxed against the wall, I let out all my aggression and the bawled my eyes out like a little baby for my best friend Dave and my family who never came to visit me. I can’t say that I blame them because they were moving when I got locked up in there and this is my 9th hospitalization. There is a court order made by a judge who decreed that if I ever, EVER end up back in one of those places I will be sent away upstate and locked away for good.

I cannot let that happen. However, the drugs they put me on are so expensive I don’t know what to do. My parents and my therapist are on my back to be compliant, but if I can’t afford it, I just can’t, and the pharmaceutical companies are getting richer and richer off of people like me. But that’s for another time, all it will take is a quick call to Dr. Barris who became my mentor in there. It baffled the staff how fearless I was when the team did their rounds at breakfast, and there I stood, fully dressed, showered, fresh from my Bible reading with William, ready to see what other bullshit theory they had for my condition. They labeled me Schizophrenic when I am just Bipolar. Every morning I demanded my 250 mg of Seroquel and my .05 Klonopin and wouldn’t take anything else because that medication cocktail was given to me by the new doctor I had changed to right before I was sent there. Fuck Depakote and fuck Lithium, those are the drugs I fear most, funny now that I say that because I agreed to take some Lithium to help get me out of there.

I fell in love in there too. James is his name, and boy is he handsome. I picked the baddest, meanest, motherfucker to fall in love with. Covered in tattoos with the bluest eyes, when he was cursing out the doctors on one end of the unit, I was cursing out the staff on the other side, and when we walked the hall together every one ran! We ran that unit because as much as I helped out, so did James. I even made a wedding ring out of blue drawstring and string to represent a wedding band on my finger because we ate every meal together, shared our food with other patients, hid our food and rocked it at Jeopardy! every night at 7pm. It was literally like being in jail. The staff was so unhelpful, playing on their phones, completely unhelpful to the patient’s needs. Cursing out the staff every day is probably what made my stay so long after they vacated me out of the “Quiet Room” because I never stopped fighting for the patients there – I was there only advocate and I fought for everyone except myself. And boy did I try to help James. I made him smile so much. I became such an incredible dancer that after every time I put on a show for everyone during Exercise or a full open Lobby group, the man took like three or four showers!! Haha!! I also sang while another patient played a guitar. My talents shined so bright and when it came to art, I made collages, 3D art and tons of love notes for James. I lifted him, he lifted me, but I think he may have fell into a depression because he relapsed the last time they let him out on a Day Pass to a sober house that didn’t exist. That was right before I left and when I called yesterday he was sleeping at 7:30pm and that isn’t like him at all.

My parents want me to move out, so I have to try really hard to reach James. I love him more than any man I have ever loved. We survived absolute starvation and jail-like conditions with the other patients there. I made a family there and as God as my Witness I will help all of them get out of there.

The best thing I am doing in the interim is taking up dance classes. I found a couple of great dance studios for interpretive dance right here on Long Island, and even some ballroom classes. I lost 45 pounds in the 4 months there, and I have never felt curvier or sexier. I bought new jeans that are ass tight, new Victoria Secret bras, and I am on my way on collecting on some of the offers for employment I was promised by some of the staff over at the hospital. From bartending, to stripping, from singing with a drum in my Native American Tribe the Hopi in Arizona, from Payroll Executive at the Yale Club of New York City, from the bowels of the chop shop brokerage firms on Wall Street, to my first job at the age of 14 as a greeter at the Gap, there is absolutely nothing Lynn Feroz can’t do when she puts her mind to something. I was even a model at 17, (the head shot in the photo featured here).

I am shining. Too long have I let Bipolar take my life from me. I sat in my room for 14 years with a bottle hiding behind being fat, lazy, and chasing internet men. I spent my 38th birthday in the hospital this year too, but having James and my little babies there with me was the best birthday I ever had! They tried to sneak cake up to me, but I told them to fuck themselves because if they didn’t have cake for everyone then I didn’t want their bullshit. So instead, I made a huge cake in 3D Art!

So join me now as I reclaim my life back, and I assure you, my posts will get more and more juicier every time!!

Here’s to freedom!! 

(Cheers with a non-alcoholic beverage)

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I Am Sharing With You My Story, That Will Rock The Very Foundation of What You Thought About Mental Illness and The Work Of God.

Brown Eyes

Nice catchy title huh? No seriously. Have you ever wondered if people with Mental Illness have a close connection with God? I mean like they’re special? It is a known FACT, that for a Bipolar Person, Mania, is usually the driving force in this belief that somehow we are “gifted,” we are “special” in the eyes of the Lord.

I am going to share with you my personal story, from start to finish, of WHAT I went through in my epic battle of Bipolar Disorder. From Day One. It’s is actually in a form of a chat, because it dawned on me, as I tried to rest my mind tonight after all the CRAZY CRAP that has gone on for the last three days, that I sat here and actually made a DETAILED record of my amazing life story in a conversation with AN AMAZING guy I know. I am on a chat program called Paltalk, and I am not even going to lie to you and deny what an EPIC asshole I am, truly. Don’t laugh, but my name is “Articulately Sexual” on there. Yes, I am not LYING AT ALL, that is my actual chat handle. I won’t even start to go into detail of how much fun I have with a chat name like this. The obvious bait, is the “Sexual,” part, naturally. And when the losers of the chat world see it, you all KNOW they automatically head straight for one thing. My utter enjoyment, and absolute celebration of power for women EVERYWHERE, is the following line that I give men that say some nonsense in regard to my name: “What makes you think you are worthy enough to message me? I demand proper grammar and punctuation and grammar when you address me, anything less is WAY below me” HAHA! Can I rock or can’t I? Let me tell you what kind of utter ANGER ensues after that, but you know Paltalk has a nice way of turning down a private message, so that way if they want to respond, (which is most likely some horrific demeaning insult), I just simply click “Do not Accept Message” and go along my merry way. Fun ain’t it? Who said chatting was dead?? HAHA!!

Anyway, I always seem to go off on some ridiculous tangent somehow, but I present to you my life story, from beginning to end, in chat form for your reading pleasure. Now I am going to warn you, this is some really CRAZY shit, and even when I was typing it all out to him, I was like OMG, did all this stuff REALLY happen? Look out below!

========== Mar 27 10:42 PM ==========

 Jersey_T: Hello!

 Articulately Sexual: Hello!

 Jersey_T: how are you doin?

 Articulately Sexual: I’m alright man. I had a REALLY hard day man. Like it was really bad.

 Jersey_T: damn. I m sorry to hear it!

 Jersey_T: wanna tell me about it!

 Jersey_T: ?

 Articulately Sexual: It’s okay. Well are you willing to listen? I mean I have treated you horribly and been a complete bitch to you. I mean I would be grateful if you took some time to spend with me tonight and talk about it.

 Jersey_T: yeah. it s all good

 Articulately Sexual: Okay.

 Jersey_T: ???

 Articulately Sexual: Well first off let me come clean with you, I DON’T work in Human Resources and Finance. I DID at one time in my life but that was YEARS ago, I think everything fell apart in 2004. I was working for the Yale Club of New York City, and its EXACTLY how it sounds. It was an alumni for the prestigious Ivy League Yale University who had a private establishment set up across from Grand Central Station. If you have ever exited out at the Vanderbilt Avenue exit, (you know up the steps like by the clock, you know what I mean?) you would have DEFINITELY spotted it. It was there since like the 1900s I think and when I tell you THEY HAD MONEY. Like I met people like George Bush Jr. Rudy Guiliani, Bill Clinton and EVEN Trump a few times believe it or not. As a matter of fact the Yale Club hosted MANY of his events that coordinated with Trump Tower. The Yale Club was directly on Vanderbilt Avenue. As a matter of fact the address is 50 Vanderbilt Avenue if you want to Google it, I worked there from 1999-2004 or so I think. Do you think you know of it?

 Jersey_T: yes! I have heard of it

 Jersey_T: I m not gonna lie, I don t know the ins and outs of it but yes I ve heard

 Articulately Sexual: Nice! Anyway, I held a very successful psotion. I was the Payroll Coordinator and I reported directly to the Director of Human Resources at the time. It was me and another girl there, Melanie, we both were the Payroll Coordinators of the Department. I mean that was our “offical titles” but you know The Director of Human Resources had NO ONE, it was just him and the two of us under him to handle EVERYTHING, I mean like benefits, 401K, Medical, Vacation/Sick/ (keepign track and letting employees know what they had and GOD they were SUCH a pain in the ass calling and calling asking for shit when me and Melanie were trying to tackle our MASSIVE workload you know? Anyway, in addition to that we PROCESSED the payroll, EVERY SINGLE week, and when I tell you, these mother*ckers wanted to save a SHIT ton of money, by ditching the ADP service, and brought the ENTIRE PAYROLL INHOUSE. Can I tell you it was JUST me and Melanie trying to do this WHOLE NEW SHIT of cutting 300 checks processing the payroll, (we printed them in our office), handling all our responsibilites IN ADDITION to f*cking people being annoying as shit. So as you can tell the stress level of this job was ridiculous!! Are you with me so far?

 Jersey_T: yes I am

 Jersey_T: that s a LOT!!!!!

 Articulately Sexual: I know!!! It was horrible!! And I don’t want to get into the frustration we felt. Now she was a Filipino woman and I was this exotic chick so you know, I don’t have to tell you that these powerful white men of The Yale Club could give two f*cks about any kind of raises or bonuses for us. It was HARD let me tell you. Despite the stressors of the job, well in addition to I had a REAL asshole boyfriend at the time. HE WAS HORRIBLE let me tell you. He was an absolute sociopath that strung me along for five years, told me shit like “I love you but I am not “in” love with you” nonsense, and basically my sexy 120 pound GORGEOUS exotic 24 year self at the time was ABSOLUTELY TORTURED with low self-esteem because the way he did it to me, HE MADE ME FEEL that I was not good enough, AT ALL. I was so depressed so sad, so MISERABLE in addition to this overwhelming job. Are you still with me?

 Jersey_T: wowwww

 Jersey_T: I HATEEEEE hearing shit like that!!!

 Jersey_T: I m sorry to hear that. pisses me off

 Articulately Sexual: I know honey I know, it was absolutely horrible and a complete and utter nightmare for me. But you wanna know something? ALL THAT HORRIBLE SHIT is the GOOD part of this INSANE story of a life of mine, truly.

 Jersey_T: nahhhh don t tell me that

 Articulately Sexual: Yup it is. TRUST ME when I tell you that.

 Jersey_T: I m very sorry!!!!

 Jersey_T: it seems like you ve gotten a lot of your confidence back though

 Articulately Sexual: It’s okay. Oh I totally have, AND THEN SOME!!! But what happened next is the REALLY sad AND HORRIBLE PART. I told Melanie my woes and my mom and they suggested (like most people do) that I go see a psychiatrist to help with my depression. Jesus F*cking Christ when I tell you THAT was the mistake that COST ME EVERYTHING, my amazing career, the man I loved, (who was shitty anyway), my aparment, my sanity, my soul, and nearly my life.

 Jersey_T: Holy shit!!

 Jersey_T: well losing the man you loved was probably a blessing

 Jersey_T: still there?

 Articulately Sexual: Oh I know it was, well now anyway you know? But not at the time. Anyway, this doctor, this shitty f*cking horrible doctor, who honestly if I COULD REMEMBER HIS NAME I would have sued the ass off this completely reckless heartless mother*cker. Seriously! I sat in his office, and we started talking about what was bothering me. I started to cry, BAWL in pain and anguish. And do you know what this mother*cker did? He twisted his face lost his patience with me, slammed down his notepad, and gave me a box of samples of Lexapro. Basicallly he threw the shit at me to shut me the f*ck up from crying. Seriously. He didn’t care to listen to me, didn’t care to LEARN ABOUT BEING bipolar, (which is my diagnosis now, which PROBABLY isn’t because this mother*cker cursed my ass with this HORRIBLE mental illness because of the shitty thing that he did). What happened next was an ABSOLUTE nightmare. The Lexapro, that I took without question, I mean how the hell was I supposed to know? HE was the doctor right? He was the one who should have handled me with care. God I hope that mother*cker died a horrible mieserabole f*cking death, LET ME TELL YOU. What happened next after i took the Lexapro, was complete and utter mania, psychosis, hallucinations and delusions. It tormented me TORTURED me, till I lost everything, absolutely EVERYTHING I MENTIONED, and I went through the entire YEAR of 2004-2005 in psych ward after psych ward, in nad out, over and over againk, probably a total of 20 f*cking times that year!! They gave me SO MANY F*CKING drugs, they called me bipolar, they called me schitzophrenic, they gave me every f*cking diagnossi under the sun that tortured my very essence, soul and overall existence. When I tell you, that BEAUTIFUL 24 year hard working successful career woman was COMPLETELY and utterly broken, is an absolute understatement honey. And you wanna know the MOST F*CKED UP THING out of all of that??? I NEVER IN MY LIFE expeienced ANY f*cking halllucinations, delusions, psychoiss ANYTHING CLOSE to that in my entire f*ciking life BEFORE that mother*cker just recklessly threw that Lexapro at me. God I am in tears now in utter pain, you need to give me a second. Goddammit.

 Jersey_T: wowwwwwwwww

 Articulately Sexual: Are you still there?

 Jersey_T: yes I am

 Jersey_T: I m pissed!

 Jersey_T: you should be able to find records and find out who the Dr is

 Articulately Sexual: I just needed a second. I know honey, I know it was so unbelievably horrible it really truly was. You know, I can’t even try anymore. I learned to let that go because you know what? The next 13 years that followed WERE UTTER AND COMPLETE torture. I mean I went in and out of the psych ward for YEARS after that, unable to get a grip on what was happening to me, slapped with a f*cked up label called “bipolar disorder” which I am sorry to say has a F*CKING horrible stigma that people f*cking use EVERY day to hurt people with. I mean you know? “bitch be texting me too much that bitch bipolar as f*ck” ” “the weather is so bipolar today hahaha and all this HORRRIBLE f*cking nonsesne. Can I tell you what that has DONE to me over the past 13 years? Can I tell you that I broke BOTH my mother and father down to tears when they watched their Beautiful BRILLIANT and successful daughter be reduced to some drugged up guinea pig crawling on the floor of psych ward BEGGING the doctors to just f*cking kill me just do it already, just do it. My mother admitted to me recently that her and her mother, My AMAZING grandmother who recently passed away cried and cried day and night praying to GOD to save me to save my soul. When I tell you that I F*CKING SWALLOWED ALL THE PILLS one day and SUCCESSFULLY killed myself in an overdose that they brought me back and when I got out I literally SPENT AN ENTIRE YEAR in a deep depression in which I didn’t leave my f*cking bed at ALL. And god when I tell you it doesn’t even end there.

 Jersey_T: Mental illness is tough and when a Dr f*cking abuses his profession and ruin s someone s life it is absolutely tragic

 Jersey_T: but I m glad you were resuscitated and brought back

 Jersey_T: it wasn t your time!

 Jersey_T: still there?

 Articulately Sexual: Thank you. My family was very thankful too you know? He did honey, he absolutely SENTENCED my ass to an ENTERNITY of bipolar disorder and mental illness, he truly did. I know it wasn’t my time. I know it wasn’t trust me I do. And you know what’s funny? I came out of that horrible depression, I think I was about 26 at the time, you know lost some weight got all sexy again, and found a job, a good job too. And I was okay for a while. And things were looking really good, because my parents actually bought a BEAUTIFUL house in Valley Stream on Long Island where I live now, and I was on my way to a healthy life. I don’t know if you believe in this or not, but the f*cking DEVIL and HELL is REAL. Because when I tell you, when I moved I was about 28, I was TWO F*CKING YEARS RECOVERED and MED FREE I was taking NO F*CKING pills at the time at ALL, the symptoms, the mania, the psychosis, hallucinations, delusions ALL THAT SHIT CAME BACK!! I mean God Almighty help my soul when I telll you that when we were FRESHLY MOVED IN we didn’t even f*cking unpack yet in our new house, my f*cking crazy ass was roaming around our brand new neighborhood roaming around knocking on doors FREAKING out our new fucking neighbors, and landed my ass STRAIGHT BACK in the mother*cking psych ward,. That mother*cking doctor sentenced me to DEATH he really did, because whatever the f*ck was in that Lexapro changed my BRAIN chemistry FOREVER. FOR F*CKING EVER. Jesus F*cking Christ when I tell you I had to submit myself, reduce myself to living on f*cking disabilty like some kind of f*cking waste of space loser, and take my meds every day, “like a good patient” words can’t describe my torment after that day i was releaed from Franklin Square Medical Center in my BRAND new neightborhood of Valley Stream, THE SHAME my parents and sister had to endure because of that craziness I did. UGH. And in 2008 to now, I am STILL on disabilty. I actaully suffered greatly between 2008-2017, last summer I changed doctors at the Counseling Center that I go to, because of course I had an asshole doctor for like 5 f*cking years, that was fresh out of med school about 30 years old, did everything by the book and honestly really didn’t give a f*ck about my recovery. Last summer I changed doctors to this really funny, Oh god he makes me laugh! older wiser Filopino Christian man, VERY religious, which i have to say is God’s way of finally showing me his Grace and saving my life for all the suffering I have gone though, truly. When I tell you he changed my meds from Haldol, (an antipsychotic that I was on for ten years and didn;’t do shit really) to Seroquel an older drug that he trusts, (he is so old school and he is VERY SMART And wise and told me that the older drugs are the best and he really doesn’t trust the newer shit. When I tell you this amazing man was sent to be by God to save my life and give me this miracle Seroquel drug, (which happens to be just like a mood stablizer reeally), it UTTERLY saved my life, gave back my strenght and confidence and THIS IS WHY I am the MIGHTY powerhouse woman that I have become now, truly my friend.

 Jersey_T: Great!!!!!

 Jersey_T: I m glad you re feeling great and MIGHTY!!!!

 Jersey_T: that s awesome

 Jersey_T: e

 Articulately Sexual: What do you think, should I write a book or something? Haha!

 Jersey_T: Great pics. even showin a lil cleavage to be sexy. hahaha

 Jersey_T: I m sure you d have plenty to write!!!!

 Articulately Sexual: Haha, so that’s my story as raw anf as real as I can get with you. AND I didn’t even tell you about my hard day!!!

 Jersey_T: lol. I was gonna say, what about the day!?!?

 Jersey_T: but thank you for opening up

 Jersey_T: I know it must be hard

 Articulately Sexual: No problem truly. I am really sorry I am such an asshole sometimes really. Like I treated you badly the last time we talked that was TRULY horrible. But I am like a POWERHOUSE you know? Like my overall confidence and self-esteem is like UBBELIEVABLY ridiculously high like it borders in complete pompus and arrogance sometimes you know? But I gotta remember, I MUST remember to bring it down to Earth and count all the wonderful blessings I have and be kind to others. I truly must,. Its my mission, Its the mission God saved me and is telling me to do my friend.

 Jersey_T: yeah. I get it. I don t pass judgement on people

 Jersey_T: and I don t know what people have going on in their lives so I don t like to be rude

 Jersey_T: honestly you were pretty bitchy but what does it benefit anyone for me to talk shit back?

 Articulately Sexual: I know and you shouldn’t. I know you are a good person. You know how I knew IMMEDIATELY, how I could spend some time with you tonight. Because a friend, a friend I THOUGHT I had was online here, and you know, after all we have been through, that mother*cker didn’t even send me a message to see how I was doing? When you ALWAYS have messaged me and checked up on me no matter what you know? I KNEW right then that YOU were the person to open up to and talk to tongiht, and that f*cking asshole is offiline now and coming the f*ck off my list.

 Jersey_T: yeah. that s a shame

 Jersey_T: most people are here to get a nut or see some titties

 Jersey_T: and even if not, a lot don t respect people on here

 Articulately Sexual: EXACTLY! And you know what my friend, me and that GUY that I just mentioned used to cyber sex all the f*cking time you know? And that’s what he’s about, that’s what MOST of them are about really

 Jersey_T: yeah. if you re not benefitting him then you have nothing for him

 Jersey_T: that s f*cked up

 Articulately Sexual: I know it is trust me I do. Can I ask do you trust me?

 Jersey_T: trust you in what way?

 Articulately Sexual: Like with your first name? (you dont have to share your last), or maybe even like an email, or maybe Facebook if you want? I would like for you to support me in my journey and cause. I have a blog on WordPress, and I have to be honest, has BLOWN the hell up since my medication change and now that I am doing God’s work. If I give you the website to my blog, will you follow it and sign up for the email alerts? Can you support me? I would REALLY appreciate any help you can give me my friend. My name is Lynn by the way, just so you know.

 Jersey_T: Yes. I remember your name!

 Jersey_T: I trust you I just have to be careful

 Jersey_T: not sure if you remember, I m married

 Jersey_T: I got rid of FB because of some shit and don t want to relive that

 Jersey_T: My name is (Blank)

 Articulately Sexual: Haha great! Oh I understand your concern truly I do. I remember that you are married I do. I know. Its no problem at all. What is your name? Ok no Facebook. Got it.

 Jersey_T: but I d love to follow your journey and keep in touch

 Articulately Sexual: Okay nice to meet you (blank). Okay here is my blog. Are you on a computer? http://unchained-heart.com

 Jersey_T: I know you have ups and downs. I m sure we ll have our

 Jersey_T: moments here

 Articulately Sexual: thats’ it. Follow me! Thank you@

 Jersey_T: I will do!

 Articulately Sexual: Do you promise you will keep up with my blog?

 Jersey_T: only if you have naked pics there

 Jersey_T: Hahahaha. kidding

 Jersey_T: sure I will!

 Articulately Sexual: Haha, sorry, but I can give you some substitutes! Hold on while I google some!

 Jersey_T: Hahahaha

 Jersey_T: no thanks

 Jersey_T: I can do that on my own

 Jersey_T: have plenty of porn links. Hahahaha

 Articulately Sexual: Haha so DO I!!!

 Jersey_T: Hahahaha perfect!!

 Jersey_T: nothing wrong with that

 Articulately Sexual: i know there isn’t. Didn’t you check out my profile with the rooms I follow? When I tell you that Men Wanking Room is as FUN as hell I ain’t even joking! The WOMEN are SO friendly and so AMAZING!! These bitches in the Flirting Zone are one some high horse f*cking shit, let me tell you!

 Jersey_T: hahahahaha

 Jersey_T: yeah I like that room

 Jersey_T: has the most titties

 Articulately Sexual: Isn’t that something though? Anyway, let me FINALLY get to my hard day. Part of my advocacy work, has been to promote awareness for Mental Health. There is a site I linked on my blog called “PsychCentral” that has been around for 20 years, the owner and creator of this amazing site, I call him DocJobn, allowed me to have my blog featured on his AMAZING website. I was honored, humbled, because for SIX years I have been a veteran of his site, with more than 22,000 posts under my belt! I have done amazing work!

 Jersey_T: Wowwwwwwww 22,000

 Articulately Sexual: I KNOW!!!!

 Articulately Sexual: Anyway, I know I have gone on and on for almost two hours and I am starting to get tired, so I am going to wrap this up. I have had shit come at me recently (blank). That f*cking Devil Satanic shit I spoke about earlier. FOR THREE DAYS, I have had THREE instances of EVIL people F*CKING WITH ME HORRIBLY and causing me excrutiating emotional pain. When I tell you that for the past three days, I have been cryinng and crying, fighting and fighiing trying to hold it the f*ck together and not have a total meltdown while this sinsiter shit has been happening to me, its been REALLY horrible my friend.

 Jersey_T: well you have held it together

 Jersey_T: you re f*ckin tough!!!!

 Jersey_T: so when it gets hard, Dig in and fight that shit!

 Jersey_T: and keep fighting

 Jersey_T: keep doing what s good

 Jersey_T: battle and battle and battle because the alternative is no good

 Jersey_T: don t be afraid to reach out to those for help

 Articulately Sexual: Man I got armor like F*CK you know!! But if I am honest with you, at the core of my being my essence is incredibly pure and beautiful and soft. I HAVE SO MUCH LOVE IN MY HEART its almost feels like it is BUSTING from me, you know? And these attacks have tested my faith, my strength, and this devil type shit REALLY f*cked with me HARD. And if it weren’t for the ENDLESS amount of AMAZING friends I have in my life, my TWO men in my life that absolutely love me unconditionally, (that’s a long story for another time haha), I would have fallen apart. But it was some EVIL shit let me tell you!

 Jersey_T: that s great!

 Jersey_T: I m sure your heart is very pure

 Jersey_T: I can tell you re full of passion

 Jersey_T: who are the 2 men?

 Articulately Sexual: Don’t worry about that right now. That’s for another time, don’t worry you’ll get the juicy details, we have time, especially if I hold you to that promise of staying in touch and supporting me and following my blog!! Anyway, the first attack is in the year I have been blogging, and helping others, this EVIL sick son of a bitch trolled my blog in the comments section. It really wasn’t a big deal but it REALLY hurt me at the time at the shit he said. If you read my blog (and I hope you do), its the post I wrote about “All types of Addiction and How Society is Addicting to ALMOST everything and that setting time limits with structure can BREAK that cycle and help enrich your life. IT was a brilliant post and i had SO MANY comments of poeple who I helped and LOVED my idea and this asshole had to shit all over it with his hateful shit. And it isn’t as easy as just blocking him either. You will see if you read, that this asshole MADE ANOTHER F*CKIGN ACCOUNT and commented further. You know I didn’t even block the one he originally started f*cking with me on, Cause you know what? That’s how sociopaths work my friend, that’s how trolls operate,. THEY are relentless!

 Jersey_T: yeah. just block those no good mother f*ckers out

 Jersey_T: pay them no mind

 Jersey_T: they wanna bring you down from the success you are achieving

 Jersey_T: keep being successful

 Articulately Sexual: Nah, honey, not in my nature. THAT’S MY f*cking blog, I own the domain, I POUR MY HEART Into it, let them come honey, let them come by the f*cking THOUSANDS, I will fight EVERY single one to the DEATH, I am done being passive and looking the other way. F*ck that shit. God put me on this Earth with the strength he blessed me with to go to F*CKING war with EVIL shit in this world in the defense of others, and that is EXACTLY what I have been doing!!!

 Jersey_T: ok. well don t let it take your energy from doing good

 Jersey_T: you re a tough lady

 Jersey_T: I like that

 Jersey_T: still with me?

 Articulately Sexual: No its hasn’t. It really hasn’t. But you know, that evil shit is trying to break me. Anyway, I am going to cut this shorter, (I keep saying that ugh) and say that I have a friend of 20 years that I have done so much for, I am too tired to tell you how this bitch f*cking hurt me, but when I called her to make plans for her birthday, (she never picks up a goddamn phone and EVER calls my ass by the way in the whole 20 damn years go figure), and she is in this f*cked up toxic controlling relationship that honestly I KNEW was gonna be a complete shitshow. But I went to lunch with her and her boyfreind just sunday, Palm sunday go figure there, and you know, this mother*cker really tested my patience. I had asked Sandy, that since her bf was in from Chicago, (they have had a long distance thing for 4 years), that we should do our own birthday celebration when hes gone, (her actual birthday was Monday), anyway, she f*cking goes and tells me that her bf really wants to get together with all three of us god knows f*cking why she is my MY damn friend I don’t need to spend time with his stupid ass, anyway, the condition was that I would go with them IF she PROMISED me we would get together in May, (its warmer and my old neighborhood in Forest Hills Queens is AMAZING, and they have a place there called The Irish Cottage where you can sit outside drink and whatever, with a movie theater on the corner so we can see the new Avengers movie Infinity War. You with me?

 Jersey_T: yes. I m here

 Jersey_T: does he want a three way?

 Articulately Sexual: No nothing like that.

 Jersey_T: I m not quite sure with that

 Jersey_T: oh ok

 Jersey_T: just hang out

 Articulately Sexual: Anyway, whatever, I went Sunday with them to Flushing and we went to have Korean BBQ which I never had, (she’s Chinese) and it was fun, until two things happened. One, he SHOT HER THE NASTIEST f*cking look when I asked her about the plans in May I just told you about that she F*CKING Promised me, god that bitch, and she put her head down and said, “I think I am going out to Chicago in May” Jesus f*cking Christ. AND I went on to explain that I took a Civil Service Exam for Nassau County for a “Personnel Clerk” I mean is the f*cking Universe in my favor or what? And I took the test in January, because a government job would solidify my benefits and ease my worry of getting off the disabilty losing it forever and being in more trouble, in my attempt to go back to work full time. I took the test in January and it takes six months to hear back. I should hear something in June, and when she smiled and said, “Lynn is going to get a government job” and this asshole goes on and literally SCREAMS in the middle of the restaurant, ” WHEN THE GOVERNMENT SHUTS DOWN YOU WON’T GET ANY MONEY” Like WTF God Almighty help me that I didn’t slap the shit out of this asshole then and f*cking there.

 Jersey_T: wow. sounds like a real f*cking loser!!!!

 Jersey_T: I hate f*ckers like that

 Articulately Sexual: Oh god honey it was awful, can you see what I have been dealing with, and this is just the second f*cking thing! UGH!! Anyway, when I dropped them both off I texted her, “I made it home safe, had fun, can’t wait till we have our get together in May, love you” Can I tell you this bitch NEVER f*cking answered my text and its TUESDAY?? And let me not get started on the fact that HE ANSWERS her texts, HE answered HER f*cking phone when I was waiting downstairs in my car, like OMG I really f*cking lost it all Sunday night.

 Jersey_T: wow

 Jersey_T: that s a shame for her

 Jersey_T: I feel bad for people like that

 Jersey_T: hate when mother*ckers take advantage of others!!!!!

 Jersey_T: I like Chinese girls too. lol

 Articulately Sexual: Like Goddamit honey, really!!!!!???? You know, I feel for her too, but I have a lot of hate in my heart. I am too tired to even go into the fact that I DROPPED everything in my life and came to her rescue and drove out to Queens and took her to get THREE f*cking abortions. Count them. THREE f*cking abortions. This bitch literally had me at her f*cking beck and call like some kind of loser, and SHE CAN’T ANSWER MY F*CKING TEXT???? Excuse me while I totally not give a f*ck and not feel sorry for her ass one f*cking bit.

 Jersey_T: yeah. I can see where you re coming from. but that s a mentally f*cked up individual there

 Jersey_T: she has some issues

 Jersey_T: you re a good person

 Jersey_T: went all out for her

 Articulately Sexual: I know And can I tell you something. Now this is where I get worried about the Bipolar and the mania and the delusions shit. Sunday night, ALL F*CKING NIGHT I had visions, arguments in my head of Ed (her shitty bf) SCREAMING at Sandy about me and saying the most HORRIBLE shit about me. When I tell you I laid down on the floor of my room and BAWLED MY EYES OUT SCREAMING that mom came rushing in to console me cause I literally felt my HEART PAIN me, like REAL serious pain in my heart you know? God I am tearing up again!! Ugh I’m such a wuss. Lol.

 Jersey_T: no you re not!!!!!! you re a passionate person!!!

 Jersey_T: a lot of caring in your heart

 Articulately Sexual: I know, I really know you know. Anyway, I cried and cried like omg all the way up until Monday, (just yesterday) and this where PsychCentral comes in and the FINAL conclusion to this epic saga of mine. Its a support site for mental health right? So, I made a thread explaining what happened with Sandy, and I had an overwhelming outpouring of support on the thread. AND finally honey, the third and final test of the Devil himself on me in the past three f*cking days, there was ONE f*cking asshole, who said something REALLY shitty and HORRIBLE on the thread. I know, like ALL OF my friends said, just ignore him. Trust me, i have dealt with trolls but THIS one, has had a HISTORY of fighting on arguing on PsychCentral. And honestly the moderators did nothing about this mother*cker for MONTHS now, as I have been watching him fighting and shitting all over peoples cries for help on that site. I mean people go there who are suicidal begging for help and you still have this evil mother*cker running around for months? LIKE WTF. So I took care of it last night. In fact. I THNK I might have a saved bit of what I said, I had copied and pasted it to someone last night too His name is Talybus some shit, I think I can paste it, its long and might come out jumbled but do your best.

 Articulately Sexual: Quote:

 Originally Posted by Talthybius

 I would try to talk with some of Sandy’s friends about this, if at all possible.

 As I understand it, you met each other 20 years ago. But Sandy has been with this guy the last 4 years and exactly that period of time you haven’t been in contact with her.

 She won’t just end a 4 year relationship because her old friend she just started talking to again says she should.

 One solution is to just stop worrying about it. It is her relationship, not yours.

 Second is to ask if you are really being as objective about this as you think you are. So for that, you need to confirm what you think with that what others around Sandy think.

 Then the option would be to first prove you are a good friend once again. Once you have done that and Sandy hasn’t brought this up with you, you try to find the right moment to gently get a sense of what she thinks about if her boyfriend is controlling or not.

 On the short term maybe Sandy’s actual best friend can confront her in a firmer way. But of course that friend then must be willing to do that and somehow be emboldened by you to now actually do so.

 Only other option is that you tell her than you cannot bear to see her with this guy and that she can contact you again when that guy is no longer part of her life.

 But like I said, this all seems kind of sudden. Obviously, you don’t like him and you judge him harshly, maybe unfairly. There is a difference between him making Sandy happy while they have a relationship you don’t approve of and making Sandy change into a person you don’t recognize. And him being so controlling and abusive that Sandy is slowly wilting away.

 I suggest you also look at yourself. Obviously, all this triggered a lot of emotions in you. So maybe Sandy now has these two people rage over her attention.

 Once in my life I had a friend who did something I strongly disapproved off. When I learned it I called her and she said ‘Yes, all my friends are saying the same thing. No one is supporting me in this.’ We all knew that what she was doing was wrong for her, but we had no way to help her.

 Sometimes you need to allow friends to make mistakes so they can learn from them.


 Thank you very much for your comment Talthybius.

 Sandy, herself, has told me on COUNTLESS occasions that it is just her and her boyfriend in her life. No one else. She doesn’t have any outside friends, and her ACTUAL best friend in the whole wide world is, in fact ME and me alone.

 Now, I find your comment very hurtful. You are telling me that I don’t like him, you’re right I don’t. You’re telling me that I am judging him and maybe unfairly, why do you think I am doing that? This man SCREAMED at me in complete opposition of my success in taking a Civil Service Exam, by saying something very sarcastic and hurtful. He then went on to shoot my friend THE NASTIEST look resulting in her putting her head down and telling me that she might be going to Chicago in May, which will probably mean she is backing out of the plans WE HAD MADE previously to have our “girl bonding” plans in celebration of her birthday. In FACT, it was her vow and promise that we would have that “girl” time that made me agree to this horror show of an outing with her and her boyfriend.

 It’s her boyfriend yes it is. He may make her UNBELIEVABLY happy, yes in fact he might. And since it is NOT my relationship, I honestly don’t want any part of it, at all. What you fail to realize, is that I DID NOT PLAN THIS. When I called her to hang out for her birthday, she said that she couldn’t that week, because her boyfriend was going to be in town, and I happily agreed that it would be best if we had our own birthday celebration when her boyfriend was gone, about a week or two after. SHE CALLED ME, saying that her boyfriend would like all three of us to get together, and I MADE HER, now pay attention, I MADE HER PROMISE me, that I would only agree to this lunch IF she PROMISED that we would have our own get together, just us two, a few weeks from now.

 The fact of the matter is HER BOYFRIEND PUSHED HER for this get together on Sunday, I had ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION of going at all, because why the HELL does he NEED to be there? He is not my damn friend, SHE IS. AND SHE HAS NO OTHER FRIENDS OTHER THAN ME, SHE ADMITS IT FULLY, so that’s what you fail to realize.

 Now, you are going to sit there and tell me that I need to “work on myself” because I am “judging him, maybe unfairly” even though he SHOWED himself to be absolutely HORRIBLE to me? Really? You are defending his behavior and treatment of me, is that what you are doing? That is very hurtful and downright condescending as hell, and I don’t appreciate it, truly.

 Now, before you go ahead on one of your “famous epilogue of a rant” in the comments section below – talking about how all the women in this site gang up together and do a whole lot of man-bashing, let me just stop you right there. I made this thread in the hope of help and support and I WILL NOT, I repeat I WILL NOT let you hijack YET ANOTHER THREAD, IN ADDITION TO THE MANY COUNTLESS THREADS, that you have hijacked in your “epic quest of self-proclaimed heroism in defense of all the men on this site that are treated unfairly.” Give me a break will you? I promise you, I will report any comment I find unhelpful or inappropriate to an moderator/administrator straight away, you got me? And before you go ahead in a petty and bitter attempt to “beat me to the punch” and report me first, go right ahead my friend. My track record on this site, of the SIX years I have been on here, the over 22,000 posts I have made, is ABSOLUTELY UTTERLY AND COMPLETELY FLAWLESS. I do NOTHING but support people here, and sometimes I go above and beyond what most people who do to help those in need. Your track record? You have a LONG history of fighting and arguing, being combative and disruptive, which honestly caused some people to request their thread to be closed. So go ahead, do what you must, the brilliant and amazing administrators here know what is what, they ARE paying attention I ASSURE you, so they will make the right discernment in this situation.

 I will leave it at that. Now say what you will.



 Jersey_T: sounds like he s an arrogant, self righteous ASSHOLE!!!!

 Articulately Sexual: I know it was REALLY bad man. Jesus Christ and they let this f*cking horrible person run around on DocJohn’s critically acclaimed “safe” place for people struggling for months???? WTF??? And finally, FINALLY, the REASON FOR MY VERY HARD DAY, ugh, I finally got to it, lol. Is THIS F*CKING SON OF BITCH, left me the most HORRIBLE, demeaning, humiliating, explosive response to that message I left for him that I just shared with you. When I tell you my heart was racing, and I was near tears, and the f*cked up horrific events of the past two days snuck up and haunt me, like literally I used WHATEVER strength I had in me, all I could muster, at 10am this morning, and picked apart his HORRIBLE response, defended myself, and EVERYONE on PSYCHCENTRAL in a monumental BRILLIANT piece of writing and strength. I was SO PROUD of what I wrote that I was going to print out a copy of that thread and bring it with me to my therapy session, (I have an AMAZING therapist that I have been seeing for 11 years twice a month). And when I tell you I was BAWLING YET AGAIN motherF*CK ME MAN, and my HEART WAS HURTING SO F*CKING BAD, that I poured my heart out to the owner DocJohn and another moderator friend of mine, In a desperate plea to PLEASE Help me I AM HURTING SO BAD AT THE HATE IN WHICH THIS PERSON HURT ME, with a link to the thread. I would send you a link of the thread now, but they closed it, JUST LIKE I WAS F*CKING TRYING TO AVOID, ugh, I can’t honey, I can’t. I WENT TO WAR yet again and all before NOON!! Ugh, I am literally about to fall over trust me.

 Jersey_T: Hey hang in there!!!!

 Jersey_T: just need to calm yourself

 Jersey_T: you re better than him

 Articulately Sexual: I know, I am REALLY trying Troy I am.

 Jersey_T: you ll always be

 Articulately Sexual: I know.

 Jersey_T: stay strong

 Jersey_T: wish I could give you a big hug!!!

 Articulately Sexual: I know!!! A lot of people that I talked to today too!!! Haha. Anyway, it was horrible you know? Such an embarrassment to PsychCentral that not one f*cking moderator has stopped this asshole for months. I mean DocJohn and everyone there’s purpose is of comfort and support, and as a VETERAN member I mean they couldn’t protect one of their most VALUABLE members? They left me raw and exposed and at the mercy of the likes of him? I mean How could they do that to me? Anyway, I haven’t gone BACK to PsychCentral all day today since all that happened And you know what? Unless DocJohn personally seeks me out, apologizing and begging my forgiveness, (I think he has my email and he knows my blog obviously) I am not f*cking going back there F*CK THAT. If nothing happens fine, but I plan on giving it AT LEAST a month before I even sign in on there. F*ck that. Ugh.

 Jersey_T: good. do shit on your terms!!!!

 Articulately Sexual: Exactly man, I am done. Seriously I am SO DONE with all of it. God. So you see now right? Can you imagine having three days like the three days I had? Can you imagine how I feel with my huge heart?

 Jersey_T: keep

 Jersey_T: your chin high

 Jersey_T: you re a boss

 Jersey_T: tough ass woman

 Jersey_T: keep it up

 Jersey_T: don t let these fucks win over you

 Jersey_T: stay strong

 Jersey_T: stay sweet

 Articulately Sexual: I know, I always do. I know! Imagine if I end up owning my own company one day! Wouid you come work for me? I mean I can pay you in some sexual favors, (lets not tell the wife OOPS!)

 Jersey_T: mmmmmmm

 Jersey_T: that would be nice!!!!

 Jersey_T: what type of favors??

 Articulately Sexual: Haha, you cheeky bastard! Anyway, I am holding YOU to your promise of supporting me and following my blog. I am going to say this now, I love you, I truly do. I know people feel funny about that word or whatever the fuck, but I don’t. I LOVE unconditionally you know? That’s my problem. That’s why some people HATE ME SO F*CKING MUCH THEY LITERALLY WANT TO RIP OUT MY F*CKING HEART. But its okay you know? I got this! I actually have an appointment to see my AMAZING psychiatrist tomorrow, you know the older Filopino Christian sweetheart that saved my life? Its God’s doing that I happen to have my appointment tomorrow to see him. Trust me, I am beyond the bullshit fucking athiests talk absolute f*cking garbage about God ugh. I SEEN AND LIVED enough to know better. Anyway, I actually added you to my Pal list now. So I will be in touch for sure. You can be EXTRA SWEET to me, if you take your phone, relax, and open up my blog and do some reading . Its some good shit!! Especially that “About Shatteredwishes:” section,. That will blow your f*cking mind! take good care of yourself and god bless you my friend, Be well.

 Jersey_T: You leaving?

 Articulately Sexual: Yes I am tired, gotta go to bed now. Did I not tell you about the days I have had? Haha. How do you expect me to stay awake? Haha.

 Jersey_T: Hahahaha

 Jersey_T: you re a sweet heart!!

 Jersey_T: great woman

 Articulately Sexual: SO are you!! Take care my friend be well!

So there you have it, in print and for the ENTIRE WORLD TO SEE. I am bitter a bit I am. I am a bit manic too I can tell you guys that. I mean like after me and Jersey T here finished our chat, I was pacing back and forth in my room like some kinda maniac, crying some more goddammit! And you know I had another one of those “visions” of mine, (that of course they ABSOLUTELY LABEL my crazy ass with diagnosis or whatever).

I had a vision that I sat down my mom and dad. I sat down and told them that DocJohn and some of the moderators all came together and decided to come pay me a visit here in New York. I told my parents that after ALL the suffering I have done, that DocJohn was going to save me. DocJohn was going to offer me a full-time job, with benefits that would be ABSOLUTELY 100% secure so I can not live in fear of EVER being without employment after I give up my disability. I told my parents that I was going to be DocJohn’s personal fighter, go-getter, advocate, and I will be the one that he is going to send to Washington, DC and stand up to every motherfucker in Congress and DEMAND that they give us more resources to help with Mental Health funding. You know what’s funny? The hospitalization I had in 2015, actually STARTED because of Trump. I am an AVID Trump supporter, go ahead say what you want, but like I was rooting for him, sensing his mind and what he was thinking and it was FEULING MY MANIA. In fact the WHOLE reason I ended up in the psych ward was BECAUSE I had called Trump Tower over and over again, like I don’t know about 1000 times, DEMANDING TO SPEAK to him. Of course the secretary thought I was completely NUTS, but I kept on. I was SO PUMPED that day too. I remember feeling Jesus was in my soul cheering me on, the Northern Wind of the Fall was speaking to me as I walked through Valley Stream State Park, telling me, talking to me like someone would talk to the trees. I remember calling some Customer Service people about some shit I was trying to buy, and fighting with them as usual and ending up having hours long conversations with them, because they were so enthralled with what I was saying. But the TRUMP stuff got REAL outta hand. Like since that secretary was so NASTY to me (I mean can you blame her, I am crazy as hell), and I said I would report her to the police.

And off I went. I parked my car in a parking lot on Dutch Broadway, and walked to the Nassau Police Department on that block. I told them I MUST TALK TO TRUMP its URGENT, and they calmed me down checked my blood pressure and my vitals were way outta wack, cause you know I was manic as hell. They asked me, would you try to kill this secretary? I said yes I would. And THAT is how I ended up in the Psych Ward at the end of 2015, December it was. I spent the WHOLE DAMN DECEMBER in that place. On CHRISTMAS!! And my best friend and soulmate, (I met him 8 years ago on EHarmony we had a brief relationship for three years, but remained friends after, but we are BEST friends now AND stronger than EVER!!), my best friend drove ALL THE WAY from Rye, NY, which is like a good hour or two from upstate, and spent the ENTIRE Christmas Day with me in the Psych Ward. I mean if that’s not love what is then? Anyway, that ENTIRE STAFF at Franklin Hospital BELIEVED me you know. ALL the crazy shit I was telling them, “I am the Universe, I can control the weather, I can FEEL THE EARTH pulsing through me” ALL of that, and you know, they didn’t even give me shit, they listened to me laughed with me, and honestly I became very close friends with the WHOLE staff there during that one month.

My vision is what I am going to tell my parents, that DocJohn is going to come to New York and meet me and we are all going to go back to Franklin Hospital, (its like literally up the road), make an appointment with Kate, (She is the social worker that was handling my case and was in close touch with my current therapist of 11 years at New Horizon Counseling Center in Valley Stream. EVERYTHING is really close together over here, so like I am thinking is this where God put me to be? I wonder you know? And is ALL the shit I was thinking about “Me being the Essence of the Universe” could all that have been real too?

Anyway, its 3:40am, this post is almost 9000 words, WOW what the hell man?  I guess this is my LONGEST post to date.

Was it WORTH the read guys? What do you think?

Or am I as they say, just crazy?

Checkmate, Universe. I think I won this game of Chess.

Stay tuned.

Posted in Bipolar, God, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

How People These Days Are SO ADDICTED to Almost Anything – And How Structure and Organization Can Break That Cycle


How many things are you addicted to right now? Okay, I understand addicted may be too strong a word, or is it? You think binge watching Netflix isn’t addiction? Gaming for 15 hours a night isn’t addiction? Constantly, and OBSESSIVELY checking your phone every time it beeps, AND even when it doesn’t, isn’t addiction? Hours upon hours clicking here there and everywhere on your tablet, laptop, desktop, (why the hell do we have all this damn technology, eek!), for hours isn’t addiction either?

Okay, okay, maybe I came down on you guys a bit too harshly there, because obviously I KNOW all about those type of addictions first hand – not to mention my battle with alcohol, but that’s a whole OTHER monster I am not going to take on right now in this post. But, people with alcohol and drug addictions usually find peace and help through organizations like NA and AA, so why not have an organization, (or safe place), for the rest of us who suffer from “regular” addictions?

Maybe an organization like that may be a bit too far-fetched, mostly because people who binge-watch, game for endless hours, and OBSESS about their phones AND social media, DON’T think they have an addiction at all – you know because that is just our society’s culture now, so all of that is basically accepted behavior. Controlled chaos with addictive undertones? Hmm. Not a bad hypothesis if I do say so myself!

Anyway, my advice to break the cycle of this type of behavior is a very simple technique: Structure and General Organization of EVERYTHING in your life at the present moment. Sure, you can say, “I have everything in order!! I mean, I have OCD!!” Alright, alright, hold your horses cowboy/cowgirl, because I have some news for you – even though you may have some form of OCD, your ass could still be COMPLETELY disorganized. Controlled chaos remember? BUT, that is easily fixable too!

Since my change in medication, (to Seroquel 150mg), I have been MAKING my Bipolar Disorder work to my advantage. Being bipolar, (for most of us), means INSANE mania – to the point where we get shit done, rock it, KILL it, and just conquer almost EVERY kind of project or work that needs to get done – TIMES 10000000!! And I am not even kidding! Anyone who has ever been manic can testify that not only does the “magic” of creativity happen, (artists benefit the MOST from this), but we also get A LOT of crap DONE, COMPLETED, and ACCOMPLISHED!! Like a WOW kind, you know? However, the down side, (oh god the dreaded down side), to all of this wonderful progress is either the psychosis phase after you have been flying TOO high, or the dreadful crash that can plummet SO LOW that we fall deep into a dark hole of Bipolar Depression. And oh, that place (where you are so crippled that getting out of bed takes SO MUCH energy and willpower), completely sucks HUGE donkey balls – UGH!!

My solution you ask? How did I make my Bipolar Illness work for me so I don’t end up with the psychosis or depression? Manage, manage, structure, structure, discipline, discipline!!!! And trust me when I say, IT’S NOT EASY AT ALL!! But, like all human beings, once we are conditioned to an act, we are very much like Pavlov’s Dog where it becomes so routine that it becomes second nature to us, and we end up doing it without even thinking.

You are now probably saying to yourself: “That sounds like a royal pain in the ass, I can’t do it, and I don’t even know where to begin.” All valid responses, my friend! So, I will tell you the easiest and BEST way to get a handle on things:

Set time limits.


Yup! That’s it!! Did you think I was going to go on for another 500 words spewing some “Self-Help” garbage that is constantly being pounded on you from countless “experts?” Haha! Sorry honey, I ain’t got time for that! And I wouldn’t do that to you anyway, because honestly, some of the stuff out there on “how to organize your life” and all that sounds an awful lot like LECTURING to me – and since I can’t stand being told what to do from frickin’ anybody at all, that material is a total turn-off to me.

So yes: “Setting Time Limits” is the BEST and EASIEST way to get your life organized and help you find some structure, so that you don’t fall into a pit of hell after one of your “addiction” binges. What do I mean by that? Ask yourself how you feel about your life when you have been gaming for 15 hours and have to wake up, (after two hours sleep), to go to work? Ask yourself how you feel after you have Binge Watched that ENTIRE series on Netflix and your eyes hurt like hell, and your stomach hurts like hell, (oh I know you guys eat snackies when you binge watch), AND you can’t get to sleep because your mind is spinning and so active? (It’s probably spinning like that because after those 10-15 hours of watching TV straight, your mind is still processing all of that and you are probably excited at how it ended, how its going, what the next episode will be like, and all of that). And don’t get me started about people’s obsession with their phone and social media these days –

“Bing! Lucy just liked my Instagram photo – Bing! Robby just checked in to see Black Panther, I wonder what he will think of it?? – Bing! New email from work, I need to get the numbers over first thing tomorrow – Bing! New text from one of your Tinder matches, hmm better go kill two hours swiping now – Bing! Bing! Bing!”

Need I say more? I think you get the idea.

The way around this is to ACTIVELY FORCE yourself to get off the DAMN device, (computer, phone, tablet, whatever), and ALWAYS keep yourself in motion.

Setting time limits is easy as –

Project 1 – Chat on some sex site – 1 hour LIMIT! (But he’s so hot and I want more!! Screw that, get the hell off of there in ONE HOUR WOMAN!!)

Project 2 – Tinder Time – 1 hour LIMIT! (But swiping is SO MUCH FUN!! I have so many messages to answer too, I can’t POSSIBLY do all this in one hour! Oh, you CAN limit it to one hour you damn addict, so cut the bullshit!!)

Project 3 – Social Media – 2 hours LIMIT!!! (I gave myself, as well as you guys, some leeway here, because I am talking about ALL the Social Media platforms: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and whatever else. You can FORCE yourself to get off of there in 2 hours, you CAN!!! No Excuses!!)

Project 4 – Netflix – 2 hours LIMIT!! (Don’t fall into this trap, seriously people! There WERE days in Ancient Times where people had to WAIT A WHOLE WEEK to watch the next episode of a series, you know – well I guess some are still like that. But anyway, I am GIVING you TWO episodes here as a bonus, so be happy and just stick with it!! (But, I want to see what happens next!! NO!!!! You can wait, there is other shit to do!!) – Disclaimer: This rule can be modified because this MAY tie in to your down time, where you just want to relax and not think or do shit, and I COMPLETELY understand and empathize, so you CAN give yourself a bit of leeway here – just don’t make your leeway 6 friggin hours!

Anyway, I am DONE hammering you guys, but you get where I am coming from with all of that. I hope you realize that the “Projects” I mentioned there totaled 6 hours. I mean I understand that you probably don’t do ALL the things that I listed there. I even left out the countless hours of gaming and phone obsession. So, you can see how ALL that time we invest in a lot of “recreational” activities can cause us to neglect the things we need to accomplish in life.

It’s as simple as SETTING TIME LIMITS people. SET yourself a time. Use the timer on your phone to remind you when you need to get the hell off of some nonsensical thing you are wasting time on. You will soon see how things will magically fall into place and you will end up having ALL THE TIME in the world to do any productive thing you have been putting off for WAY too long.

Cleaning out that Garage. Cleaning up all your papers – Financial records, School books and notebooks, etc. Just to name a few.

Again, you get the idea, so its time to make some moves now!!

GET OFF YOUR ASS MAGGOT!!! (Channeling my inner Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket)

You can do it!!!! (I mean if my lazy ass can, so can you!!)

Stay tuned.

Posted in Bipolar, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 47 Comments

Where I Have Been, To Where I am Now. The Journey and Awareness of A Remarkable New Truth.


How many mistakes have you made in your life? Could you count them all up and revisit them now? Would it be painful for you? Or would it be empowering? I have seen myself through other people’s eyes and words these past few weeks, and it made me come face to face with an alarming truth just yesterday. A wonderful new blogger, The Chapstick Switch (who I just followed and has amazing work), reblogged this post of mine from April 14, 2017, Dear Bipolar, Please Kill Me. In that post, I completely give up – I mean REALLY and UTTERLY give up. I throw my hands up in complete frustration and defeat, and BEG my Bipolar Illness to murder me, in what turns out to be an epic plea to the God Almighty Himself for Forgiveness in the end.

I can’t tell you what reading that post did to me – bringing me back to that place that I was in almost a year ago, and in turn looking at my life now, and how MUCH I have achieved and accomplished since being in that sad, helpless place. One of the things I did after writing that post last year, was change my psychiatrist. I hit a wall with the current one I had, and even though I had stuck with him for a while, he REALLY wasn’t a good doctor. He was young, probably fresh out of med-school, no older than 35 (maybe), trying to help a patient like me, who quite frankly was WAY out of his league to try to diagnose with medication. He was very much “by the book” and treated me like a “patient,” which meant that the environment of his office was very “sterile,” almost like a hospital. I realized back then that I needed a confidante, a friend, an older and much wiser psychiatrist to treat me for my Bipolar 1 disorder, not this young kid who really didn’t know what the HELL he was doing. So, I did just that, and changed doctors.

That was the turning point, the plot twist, the epic CLIMAX of my story AND journey that is unfolding here with you at this present moment.

This new doctor, (my hero), is a wonderful Christian man, who LISTENS to everything I say carefully – listens to all the nonsense that goes on in my clouded mind, and suggests actions we can take to help me correct some of the chaos that I have been suffering with for years. He suggested last summer (2017) that I try Seroquel, an older drug, that serves mostly as a mood-stabilizer, rather than the Haldol, (anti-psychotic), that I was on for nearly a decade. The change to Seroquel ended up working wonders, I am talking Miracle type shit, and the fog and craziness of my Bipolar Life suddenly started to make sense. I now find myself a million miles away from the woman who wrote, Dear Bipolar, Please Kill Me just a year ago. I should note that this GENIUS new doctor told me how OLDER medications, not these new “improved” drugs that are being flooded into the Mental Health market, are the BETTER choice for most patients. Just another example of how “old school” remedies are ALWAYS the best.

Anyway, I am here with you now, in a SOLID frame of mind ready to throw down some epic literature with you in this post.

I watched a movie yesterday called Winter’s Tale and JESUS CHRIST, I bawled like a baby throughout the entire film. The words “unbelievable” and “fantastical” don’t do this film justice, and if you were to research this movie, you will find that the 13% Rotten Tomatoes Score as well as other reviews, showed an overall negative rating from most audiences. And Black Panther is now known as the BEST MOVIE EVER?? Excuse me while I roll my GODDAMN eyes please. In a world where today’s society is lacking deep thoughts, critical thinking, and profound respect and admiration of the beauty of literature, I can’t say that I am surprised at how badly Winter’s Tale was received.

Anyway, since the revelation of how my journey has unfolded this past year, from that blog post last year, to the new doctor and new life changing medication, I think watching Winter’s Tale last night has put things into a brand new perspective for me during this new AMAZING time in my life.

So now, I submit to you some of my favorite quotes from the movie, (Winter’s Tale is actually a film adaptation of the BRILLIANT novel by Mark Helprin):

“All great discoveries…are products as much of doubt as of certainty, and the two in opposition clear the air for marvelous accidents.” 

“…to be paid for one’s joy is to steal.”

And I will now make a special tribute to those who are reading, in which the quotes I choose below will make sense to each of you right now in your individual lives:

To all those who love the beauty of horses and animals:
“He moved like a dancer, which is not surprising; a horse is a beautiful animal, but it is perhaps most remarkable because it moves as if it always hears music.”

To the truth seekers of the world:
“The beauty of truth is that it need not be proclaimed or believed. It skips from soul to soul, changing form each time it touches, but it is what it is, I have seen it, and someday you will, too.”

To the naysayers who don’t believe:
“If nothing is random, and everything is predetermined, how can there be free will? The answer to that is simple. Nothing is predetermined; it is determined, or was determined, or will be determined.”

To those who are lonely:
“Lonely people have enthusiasms which cannot always be explained. When something strikes them as funny, the intensity and length of their laughter mirrors the depth of their loneliness, and they are capable of laughing like hyenas. When something touches their emotions, it runs through them like Paul Revere, awakening feelings that gather into great armies.”

To those who face The Madness like I do:
“To be mad is to feel with excruciating intensity the sadness and joy of a time which has not arrived or has already been. And to protect their delicate vision of that other time, madmen will justify their condition with touching loyalty, and surround it with a thousand distractive schemes. These schemes, in turn, drive them deeper and deeper into the darkness and light (which is their mortification and their reward), and confront them with a choice. They may either slacken and fall back, accepting the relief of a rational view and the approval of others, or they may push on, and, by falling, arise. When and if by their unforgivable stubbornness they finally burst through to worlds upon worlds of motionless light, they are no longer called afflicted or insane. They are called saints.”

And finally, when you are at The Absolute End of Your Time Here On Earth:

“They gave themselves up to the stars the way swimmers can surrender to the waves, and the stars took them without resistance.”

The story, Winter’s Tale, basically says that all life here on Earth end with our souls being placed among the stars.

It is where our Bipolar Hero, Carrie Fisher looks down at us from.

And it is where the Mathematical and Revolutionary Hero, Stephen Hawking looks down at us from now too. I would hope the Stars that he loved so PASSIONATELY is now his final resting place. Don’t you?

Stay tuned.



Posted in Bipolar, God, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

An Attempt To Rejoin The Real World After Hiding Behind Being Bipolar For a Long Time

back to work

Those who don’t suffer from any mental illness may not know this struggle, but if you have social anxiety you might relate to what its been like for me. I have been “out of commission” for almost 14 years now. I mean, I have attempted to go back to work here and there during that 14-year-span doing part-time work – but if I am honest with you here, part-time jobs are absolute shit! I mean the ONLY perk about it is just the “PART-TIME” part, meaning it’s just a few hours a week. But in my experience, not only are you robbed of ANY kind of benefits, (time off, medical, etc), but with the crappy pay you get ($10-$12 on average), they make you WORK YOUR ASS OFF for EVERY DOLLAR of that horrible salary. Why? Because they can and they know you’re probably really desperate, that’s my guess. Trust me, I know this is #Truth because I have had a good slew of part-time jobs since I have been on disability.

Yes, I am on disability. Now the first thing most people think when they hear this is: “You’re just lazy, mental illness isn’t really a disability.” Yeah, okay jerk-off YOU TRY and walk ONE DAMN DAY in my shoes living with this bipolar crap, I guarantee you will be singing a different tune. BUT, as much as I want to lash out at people for thinking this way, (like I just did), there is some actual truth behind the whole, “just being lazy” argument. I will admit that I have been lazy, well really lazy, since I have been on disability. But I will also admit, that there were times where I was completely crippled in which I couldn’t even get out of bed, and times I was manic as hell and ended up in the psych ward, but I am getting off subject.

I have to say, I am REALLY scared to go back to work full-time. I have come to the conclusion that part-time work isn’t for me, (based on the reasons I mentioned above), and I KNOW that even if I find a really good Part-Time Job, the government WILL take away my disability because I am working and doing well. Crazy right? A lot of us who are on the “system” are encouraged to go back to work – to find meaning in our lives, pride in something, a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and to socialize with other people. Those are ALL wonderful and positive things. But what they DON’T tell you is that if you go out there and do really well for yourself, they have their fingers quick on the trigger to YANK your benefits away from you. Oh, I am not paranoid, I KNOW this crap is true because they tried to do it to me several times when I was working part-time.

I am FULLY aware that they are trying to weed out the folks that are trying to play the system, take advantage and get away with shit, trust me, I get it. But what bothers me is that ALL the people who aren’t trying to “play” the system end up getting lumped into one big group and are all penalized and “watched like a hawk” the same way. It isn’t fair, and honestly it is totally discouraging and absolutely FRIGHTENING to take the chance and go out there and work to make a better life for yourself, knowing the only income you depend on could be taken away from you in a heartbeat.

Look, I don’t want to be on disability for the rest of my life, I truly don’t. But I can’t help but be petrified to go out there and work again. Since part-time work isn’t an option, I have to take the leap and go full-time. I decided to be smart about this though, so I am looking for Government or State jobs because they won’t discriminate against me for having a disability and the pensions are also fantastic. In fact, I learned that most Government and State jobs have an actual quota of hiring disabled people that they have to fulfill each year. That is really good news for a person like me, you know?

I took a Civil Service test in January, and it was REALLY hard. You have to pay a $40 fee to take the exam (its mandatory, so even if you fail, oh well too bad), and even with that, people STILL walked out on the exam without finishing. It was no joke, and I think the reason it was so hard was because it had a lot of “Reading Comprehension” components in it that most people don’t know how to deal with anymore. The fact of the matter is that we, as a society, have lost the ability to FOCUS on something we are reading these days. Everything we do is in constant motion – click here, there, open this page, thousands of browsers open, clicking, clicking, with our eyes darting at different things on a screen. Since we have been CONDITIONED this way, I am not at all surprised that a multiple-choice type question which involves you reading a paragraph EXTRA carefully and discerning which is the right answer is a daunting task. Oh, and they make it so EVERY choice could be a possible right answer that fits the question, they ain’t playin’ around, let me tell you! UGH! But I pushed through and finished the exam in 3 1/2 hours. “Headache” isn’t a strong enough word to describe what I felt afterwards, trust me.

Anyway, it takes six months to get any kind of answer or even see how you did in comparison of the others that took the test. Depending on your score, you are put on a list and they call the person with the highest score in for an interview, and if that doesn’t work out, they move on to the next person and so on. It’s a rigorous, and meticulous system, but I have to say, if you DO GET a Civil Service job, man, your ass is set for life!!

So, even though I am deathly afraid of going back out there and working again, knowing full well that once I give up my disability it will be SO HARD to get it back, I am hopeful that I am doing the right thing here by going after the right kind of job for me. The Government does have a program called “Ticket to Work” in which you can work up to 10 months while on disability with no financial constraints, (the rule is you are not allowed to work while on disability and make more than $1000 a month), but with this program you can make whatever and your disability payments won’t be in jeopardy. It’s a GREAT idea, especially if you decide you want to try working full-time again and you’re a bit fearful about it. The problem is that once you USE UP the 10 months, you NEVER get another chance or get it back. EVER. Jesus Christ man. I used up my “Ticket to Work” 10 month allowance 6 years ago, and even though its been 6 damn years, I CAN’T get another chance at the “Ticket to Work” Program. Geez, can they make this shit any harder for you to better yourself and rejoin the working population?

Anyway, that’s where I stand today. I am going for it you know, giving it all I got, as much as I can give. It doesn’t help that the statistics say that people with bipolar disorder have a reduced life span of around 9 years. So, if I was hoping in at LEAST making it to 80 years old by the time I die, my crazy butt will be dead by age 71. Thanks bipolar disorder for another wonderful gift you have given me.

Oh, crapola!

Stay tuned.


Posted in Bipolar, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Frustration and Anger – How Do You Deal With It In Life?

inner peaceI feel myself very angry these days, and I truly know its unhealthy for me. You’ve all been there right? You know, someone cuts you off in traffic, or maybe just PEOPLE and their general crappy behavior towards you and each other.

Irritability has been my mantra these days, (ugh what kind of friggin’ mantra is that right?), but it has been mine and I know in my heart of hearts, its due to the absolute frustration I have been feeling in my life recently. A lot of it has to do with the fact that since I have been doing EXTREMELY well these days, (with organizing and taking charge of my life), I have this INTENSE FEAR in the back of my mind that things are going a little TOO good and that all of this may be a prelude to a trip back to the psych ward. I understand that all of this is probably complete paranoia, in all its full crazy glory, but you guys have no idea what it’s been like for me ever since I first got diagnosed with “Bipolar Type 1” 14 years ago.

My mother was talking to me this afternoon about what I put our family through over the years – seeing me on the floor of a psych ward, bawling my eyes out and begging for answers and help – all because of a visit to a psychiatrist a few months prior to get some help in dealing with some of my life stressors at the time, which honestly, EVERYBODY deals with at one time or another in their lives. My mother simply said, “I honestly thought he would just talk to you, you know? Maybe give you a pill to help you sleep or something, not push drugs on you that would end up destroying your life.”

And destroy my life it did, oh man, DID IT EVER. After visiting that psychiatrist, the pills he gave me called Lexapro, was a MASSIVE screw up on his part. My current psychiatrist, (an absolute genius and my current hero), said that Lexapro is the worst drug for a person like me. Granted, you can argue that maybe the psychiatrist who gave me the Lexapro didn’t really know that it would affect me so negatively, but you know what? Screw that! He didn’t even take the DAMN time to get to KNOW me and my case, he just threw the drugs at me without even a second thought or care about it, which is angering me and boiling my blood at every word I am typing about it, because in all honesty it is what SO many “so-called mental health professionals/pseudo-psychiatrists” are doing these days, and its so damn sad. My mom was telling me that you can’t even go to a damn doctor anymore, PARENTS can’t even go to a damn doctor for their struggling child anymore either, because the IMMEDIATE answer for all of that is: PILLS, PILLS, PSYCH DRUGS, PSYCH DRUGS, FREAKIN’ DAMN DRUGS as a cure-all for every damn thing!

Breathe Lynn, Breathe.

Anyway, I totally got off topic there. In regards to my frustration and anger, I have been writing a lot about my battle with my Faith and belief in God and Jesus, and how believing in them, or any type of “Divine Feeling of Utter and Total Enlightenment,” can send me straight back to the psych ward. I told my hero yesterday, (my current psychiatrist I mentioned), that I was in a state of PERPETUAL FEAR of going back to the psych ward because I FEEL the presence of God and Jesus showing me the signs of their Infinite Wisdom these days. I FEEL SO enthralled that all these wonderful and AMAZING things are happening, but at the same time, I am being crippled, dare I say, absolutely damn TORTURED, of going back to the psych ward because of all of this enlightenment. How damn sad is that? UGH!! And the fact that SO many amazing people out there PUSH this idea that “the truth of the Buddha is that all things are connected and shown to you as part of God’s plan,” on you as part of their teachings, you know in the words of preachers and gurus and all of that is really FRUSTRATING because I can’t follow it at all. Following the truths of the Lord handed down by priests, or even the wisdom of Buddha one way or the other, leads to disaster for me because these mystical forces hit me so DAMN hard, my mania kicks in, and off to the hospital I go. And I am not going back to any of those horrible places, I can’t, I WON’T!  Those places are so damn traumatizing, that the thought of them is bringing me to tears right now.

So my friends, this is where I am at right now in life – In a state of perpetual fear of the psych ward that is manifesting itself in the form of INTENSE anger and absolute frustration. My best friend even said, “you’re that scared because you had a really good day?” As ridiculous as that sounds, I totally am, and it’s just plain frickin’ sad. I did ask my doctor for a medication increase of the Seroquel I am on yesterday though, (even though I ABSOLUTELY HATE, DESPITE AND DOWNRIGHT LOATHE medication), I mean can you really blame me after what I have been through since that initial trip to that psychiatrist 14 years ago? But, I have to be smart about this. I know something is a bit off because I haven’t been able to get a full 8 hours sleep every night and my mind IS racing A LOT these days, and as you can probably tell, obsessing a bit too, (the whole fear of the psych ward thing).

Today is Day One of the new dosage, and I am doing pretty well. The FEAR of the evil psych ward is STILL there, but not as strong today, and I did manage to get a full night’s sleep last night too. I am also a bit calmer, and my mind is not racing as much, so I can say “so far so good” I suppose, right?

Oh, and as far as the FEAR of feeling enlightenment when God or Jesus speaks to me, well, I had a nice experience when I went out for some fresh air just a few moments ago:

Jesus told me: I know its hard believing sometimes, but don’t stop believing in ME.

Then I simply answered: I won’t Jesus, I won’t.

And after I came inside, I didn’t obsess over it, or think it was my bipolar mania, and “off I go to the psych ward,” and all of that. I was simply grateful and at peace, so much so, I just wanted to come sit down and write to you guys about it – and maybe reach those of you who are struggling with these same kind of issues and help you all find some peace with whatever anger and frustration you are having these days.

God Bless You All – You Are All Such Amazing Warriors.

Stay tuned.


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I Sit Here and Ask Myself, Why Bother and Believe in God, When You Are Just Told It is Mental Illness – Shocking Update

Joy Behar of-page-001

Joy Behar was PUSHED to apologize because she said that people who hear the Voice of Jesus are suffering from mental illness. In my ongoing battle to understand faith and MY battle with Bipolar 1, I find it interesting that all this comes up about a week after I made the post below. As much as every fiber of my being is telling me to “look at the signs” and the “hypocrisy” here, I am holding it together, perhaps stronger than ever.

I have been faced with many truths these past few weeks; signs and events in which a “normal” person would feel “enlightened,” “enthralled,” and perhaps touched by the “Hand of the Divine” itself. Not me though. I have to fight the bitter reality that IF I EVEN HAD THE SLIGHTEST THOUGHT of that, I would be thrown into a mental institution and drugged up from here to Kingdom Come, (when I tell you they use every DAMN medication known in creation to give you, I am NOT kidding at all), and then simply told by the entire TEAM I am usually assigned of Mental Health Professionals, “It was all mania, it isn’t reality.” I got news for you “Mental Health Association,” I just moved my Queen into a prime position on the Chess board, (I plan on going to my monthly psychiatrist appointment tomorrow and ask him to increase my Seroquel dosage so I can get a better control of my sleep and ENSURE the mania stays away).

So I plan on staying out of the mental hospital, while all this bullshit is going on. Keep it up, someone WILL take notice. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jesus himself would be the one who will.

Below is the post I published on March 2, 2018 entitled: I Sit Here and Ask Myself, Why Bother and Believe in God, When You Are Just Told It is Mental Illness:

I can’t even tell you what I face now. In the wake of my recent family struggles, all the drama with friends, difficulty in setting realistic goals, I picked up a book today called “Lord Help Me Change,” and I literally laughed, scoffed and then got so angry I fought furiously in complete opposition of what a “Pure, Good Believer in the Eyes of God,” is supposed to be. (Or what I think it is supposed to be, according to what I have heard about Sin and all that jazz).

I took my drugs tonight, like a good bipolar patient, and couldn’t seem to find rest or peace because my mind just REFUSES to give me that simple necessity. I was angry. SO ANGRY at the fact that reading the pages of the amazing book The Captain’s mom sent me, (from a wonderful minister in Chicago), made me feel absolutely nothing but mistrust and absolute disdain as I laid there in bed. I had been granted with a miracle, escaped the clutches of psychosis, and STILL, I don’t believe. You know, I can’t. I just can’t. Not after all I have seen and done – the pills, the doctors, the mental hospitals, all the alternate realities, and the full on madness of my mind.

I struggle with finding God, I do, because the countless times I have heard His Voice, SO LOUD AND CLEAR IN MY HEAD, the times I heard Jesus himself, the times The Hand of The Almighty reached out to mine, I found myself on the floor of a psych ward, begging the nurses and doctors not to pump me up with countlesss drugs. I can’t, I can’t do this. I am faced with the bitter reality that the safety net I thought I could enjoy for the next few years is slowly being ripped from right underneath me, with me powerless to stop it.

I wanted to turn to God. I wanted my pills to work. I wanted my blog to reach more people. But like everything in life, my words fall on deaf ears, no one hears my call, no one sees me, and I suffer alone and angry at myself that I am nothing but a selfish, spoiled brat. I have been hiding behind being bipolar way too damn long. People suffer with this illness you know, most even fight the battle totally untreated, but they pull it together, go to work, provide for their families and they MAKE it through life. What is my excuse??

And can someone please tell me WHY the preacher who hears the voice of Jesus, and sings loudly in joy and excitement at the “Word of the Almighty Lord, Hallelujah!!!’ Why he doesn’t get locked up in a psych ward for hearing voices? Isn’t the voice of Jesus a voice?? Go ahead, call me a sinner, a blasphemous harlot, I don’t even care. I am angry tonight. I am angry at the fact that I can’t pray without thinking its a damn joke because of what the doctors called my epiphanies, and then in turn drugged me up with medication. Where do I fit in the grand scheme of things? Why is it, that if I were to scream “I hear the voice of Jesus, let’s all rejoice!” outside of a church, I will be locked up in mental institution?

In the face of ALL of this, I still refuse to become an atheist. Despite EVERY logical thing I have learned, EVERY fact that has been presented to me, ALL the drugs that are in my system, I BELIEVE. I laughed in God’s face you know, and yet I know he STILL loves me. I am a fool in the biggest prank ever made, but I was robbed of my rest tonight to reach you out there. You, the person who is reading this post right now. In regards to me screaming that I hear Jesus in my mind outside of the walls of a church, I will simply say this:

Jesus said… the Kingdom of God is inside you, and all around you, not in mansions of wood and stone. Split a piece of wood… and I am there, lift a stone… and you will find me.

So yeah, that’s what I believe, even though that quote is COMPLETELY discredited as being heresay, but that’s what keeps me going. In the face of mental illness, in the face of the horrible stigma placed upon us, in the face of the all the judgmental fingers being pointed at us around the world in the wake of the latest school shooting, that’s what keeps me going.

I am going to pop a Melatonin pill on top of all this damn Seroquel I am on to try to rest tonight.

And I am going to say a prayer as I fall into slumber, scoffing, refusing to believe in God, but at the same time completely, and utterly believing in Him anyway.


I dare you any of you who are reading this post to tell me I am losing my mind here. Somethings you just can’t ignore, you just can’t.

Stay tuned.


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