Blog Bio

~d

We turned one.

Well not really. We just moved on. Took it on the road.

We’ve actually known each other for five years.

We’re four women who met while undergoing stressful turning points in our lives. Here, we’re sharing a bit of what continues to get us through, what heals us…our secret to survival.

Four very different women, brought together…not by a common bond of bipolar disorder, depression or *fill in the blank*; but by the common fighting spirit of survival and through laughter.

Who are we? Do we sit in a room, discuss and organize who does what? Hardly. Sometimes we post within minutes of each other…whoops. Do we get together once a month for dinner? No. We are separated by thousands of miles.

Who are we? Bipolar? That is not who we are or what we are. People are not labels.

We are:
Your best friends, your worst enemies, your fiercest advocates, smart asses

• angry
• fun to be around
• reclusive at times
• we hurt
• we starve
• we’re real
• we are parents
• we’re artists
• we’re manic
• we’re depressed
• we’re milfs
• hey, we’re honest *sorry, that post is marked private*
• we have a sense of humor, a bit twisted at times; but it’s ours.
• we grieve
• we get sick
• we struggle to recover
• we laugh
• we love
• we live
• we feel….and believe that to feel is not a symptom of any disease…it is a symptom of being alive.
  

  We’re the BPChicks.

  We’re friends. We blog; sometimes badly, sometimes we do okay. We consider each other family; although most of us haven’t met…or heard each others’ voices.

  If you have ever hurt, struggled, been angry, frightened, confused or felt misunderstood; and you live, love and laugh (or want to), you might find a part of one of us inside of you.

So for now, we are just sharing our everyday ups and downs…and doing what we’ve been doing for the past 5 years: Checking in when we can and having a running conversation among ourselves and with all of you. Sharing things that make us laugh, make us angry or make us cry. (feel free to change the subject or lighten the mood if we forget to laugh.)

Who knows? Someone may come along and read some of this and think:

“I’m not as alone in this as I thought” or might just be sad and come upon us by chance…“The baby has finally stopped crying, all my friends are at work, I’m still in my sweats, I have no one to talk to…..hey, this conversation is odd but sort of funny, I’m laughing, should I comment? Oh why not? They don’t know me anyway…I just made someone laugh back, I don’t feel so alone…today isn’t so bad after all”

Everyone should laugh at least once a day. We owe ourselves that much.

UM, AC, C & d

The healing magic is in the comments.

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Meet the BPChicks:

• ~d

By the way, I’m d. You can call me “d” for short. I’m a Gen-Xer with a crappy attitude towards most things, a foul mouth (can clean it up when necessary) and a love for: big dogs, sports, loud music, fast cars, and fun, among other things. I lean to the right politically; but consider myself pretty much a Libertarian. I used to be a Sunday School teacher; but I guess I am now blazing a trail to hell. *see above under fun & other things*

According to UM, I have an accent. It “sounds northern” AC makes fun of the way I say certain words. AC says things funny too. “wheredafugarwe?” <—-That is a word. (she alone knows the correct spelling of this) C has never made fun of me that I know of.

Bipolar? No idea…now. I’ll leave that for the “about me/rant.” Here is the short version: I was overworked, overstressed and started taking Zoloft that was given to me by my family doctor. The next thing I knew, I was a raving bitch/insomniac. What to do? Go to a shrink. Labeled bipolar. Put on a ton of meds. The meds made me worse. (A.K.A “How to develop psych symptoms you’ve never had before”) I should re-post that at some point. It may put together the next piece of the puzzle…which is: I have Temporal lobe epilepsy. I’ve had it my entire life. (surprise!) Confirmed by EEG as a small child and again last Spring. (my parents “thought I’d grown out of it”) I’d just “grown into” one shitty label. (Thank you seizure threshold lowering psych meds & trigger happy diagnosing pdoc who changed my life in one visit.)

So for now, I’m busy staring at a blank sheet of paper, A.K.A. a resume; trying to figure out how to explain why I’ve taken a few years off from life. Bitter? Not me. (and NO, I will not “see a therapist” about being bitter-it is now my right)

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Well, it’s me…..UM (an unquiet mind) aka trailerparkbarbie. d says she will never call me TPB and I’m kinda glad. TPB just came about because of my other blog.

Five years ago, I was pretty desperate. I felt so alone. I had no one to talk to about the crazy things going on in my life and my head. AND, I thought that I was the only one who rode the wild-ass roller coaster up and down. While doing an internet search with very little hope of really finding any answers, I came across a forum about various mental disorders (among other things). I thought, “What the hell. I can’t lose anything if I don’t have anything to lose.” And, I begin to read the threads. I spent several weeks reading stuff before I got the courage to post anything. I not only found that there were plenty of people just like me, I found 3 very good, loyal friends.

Fast forward to 5 years later. We’re still biotching together. We’re still laughing together. We’re still crying together. In truth, these 3 friends (whom I’ve never seen) know more about me than anybody else including my family. They give me the strength and acceptance to write about anything that I want or need to. And, I love them for it.

None of us are professional writers. We just write things from our hearts. Some days, one or more of us might have a lot to say. Other days, we got nada, absolutely nothing to contribute to this blog. Actually, that’s not really true. We do have things to say, things to share. But, on those days we are paralyzed by something or other. Maybe, it’s lack of time or lack of ability to put things into words. The BP chicks know that I love using the word, paralyzed, to describe various aspects of life.

If you really want to piss me off, deny the fact that bipolar disorder is not real. Or, use bipolar as an excuse for bad behavior like so many snotty, little twits do these days. This will make me want to kick your ass. Seriously.

You see, we are not any different than you, a member of your family, a friend, a neighbor, a co-worker, etc. We don’t wear banners that say, “I’m bipolar!”. We don’t have weird auras, slurred speech, or drool running down our chins. We are your mothers, your lovers, your teachers, your doctors, your friendly neighborhood 7-11 clerks, your friends, etc. Most of all….we are Oscar-worthy actresses/actors. We are stronger than most people. We have to be.

PS….she does have a northern access. And, I am dying to hear AC say …..

“wheredafugarwe”

What gets me through day after day is my mother’s passed down ability to laugh at just about everything including myself. My motto is,”You don’t have the right to laugh at others if you can’t laugh at yourself first.” And, my mother would be so proud that I have passed this on to my daughters.

What else gets me through…..my deep seated belief in God. Despite the fact that I do and will in the future come off as a hard-ass, sarcastic biotch, I know that God is real and understands why I do the things that I do. I just hope that He will forgive all of them!

That’s all for now.

Next………

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Well, Now that two have sounded off. I guess it’s MY turn. I’m feline9, or C, as they call me. (the kitty, some will say).

This all started on another site. (which shall remain nameless, pretty much because it has EARNED the right to remain nameless for reasons that will go without saying). No matter the past though, I am grateful for the venue that started it all. For the f…arm, and it’s f…armerzz will always survive; and these ladies with whom I associate with are my friends in the truest sense of the word.

I have laughed, cried, shook with anger, made a fool of myself, wlaked, tlaked, and shed blook till I’ve been purely shamless in front of these women. Are those typos, you wonder? Nah, it’s just f…arm-speak! I know that this may not make much sense. But over the years, we’ve launched many a typo that’s stuck deep in our hearts and we’ve latched onto them for some reason, maybe because, deep down, we’re all typos waiting to be edited... Nah, that’s not deep, it’s just obscure.

I’ve known these women for five years. Yes. I’ve talked to every one of them by phone. Except UM. She’s my heart. Ask me WHY we haven’t talked on the phone. I dunno.. you’ll have to ask HER. LOL. (applying pressure to UM). Mostly because it doesn’t matter, I suppose. I couldn’t feel closer to her, even if I tried. But, I figure SOME day, she’ll pick up a phone and call me. (Friday is a good time, UM it’s my birthday).

We’ve written many a ditty, wiped many a tear between all of us, no wiser words have ever been spoken, than the words that pass between us.

I’ve been manic, psychotic, depressed, starving, recovering, slipping, recovering again, failing terribly, cutting, crying, sobbing, and mostly laughing my ass off.

I’ve been in administrative authority to ban each and every one of the others at one time or another; and I can tell you, if the opportunity had EVER arisen, I would have QUIT my job.

I believe in these ladies, and love them with all my heart. They have truly kept me going in the past years when nothing else could. I’ve been desperate, and clinging to life, when life rings were thrown out to me. I latched onto one when I really had no wish to do so, merely because they wanted me to; and I trusted them.

I’m BPI, rapid cycling, anorexic (recovering… again), OCD, and just overall… sometimes laughter is out of my reach; but ever will it be my cry.

Love and laughter, it’s what holds us together. It’s worked all this time. And we believe in it. Come. Try it. I believe you’ll leave with a smile on your face. For there is truly lots of BOTH here.

These women (including myself), are real, their love is real, their lives are real.

So join us on our journey to find peace in our souls.

Love and laughter. It’s what it’s all about

C.

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Geesh…AC’s such a slacker.

Oh, this is me…d tlakin about AC….maybe she didn’t get the memo.

She’s got lots of cats…maybe they’ve locked her up?

Maybe I should go bail her out. I could go on and really mess this up and tell some tales that should not be told…or should they?

I better go get her. When in doubt…consult a map. :shifty:

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We have nothing to do with ATHF…we just happen to like them.

The Aquateens can be found here. (or just buy their episodes from their store or on iTunes)