Monday, November 12, 2007

Mmmmm, Psychotropic Drugs. Just Like M&Ms

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Some may never live, but the crazy never die.--Hunter S. Thompson

Here's another one lost to the perils of manic depression. God, I miss the Duke. But you'll be glad to know that I'm back, medicated, and feeling much, much better.

Seroquel is my lifesaver. With a soupcon of Lamictal. Well, perhaps a tad more than just a soupcon.

Thank you all so much for caring so much. The email I've received, from friends and readers alike, and the wonderful comments you wrote jump-started my morale.

You know, of course, that I'm a stubborn bitch and that I won't rest until I get what I need. I didn't. Damn the system and full speed ahead. That said, I've reinstituted, regurgitated, and generally resurrected Swing Time, the blog I wrote specifically about my manic depression. It's got some good links that I've collected and a far better place to write about my disorder than here.

I stopped writing Swing Time more than a year ago, in part because I thought perhaps it wasn't healthy to write about my disorder and also because I abhor pity parties. I was wrong. First, my writing style does not tolerate my feeling sorry for myself. Second, I think it does help others of my ilk to read about what I do, to talk about disorder management, and to pass on information that I churn up from the depths of wherever.

Seems to me that there are a lot of bipolars who read this blog. Well, get your butt over to Swing Time and let's tawk. And leave this blog for the fiber shit.

I finally got my copy of Winter IK. I'm not going to say much about the issue other than to say thanks to all who wrote me about my articles. Needless to say, they edited "Brackets" to the extent where a lot of good stuff was left out. Oh well. I'm not complaining. I'm OK with the editing.

I always give credit where credit is due. And honestly, Brackets is not my invention. It's Neal's. When I first met Neal, he wrote me this absolutely cracked email, written in part by Brackets. Neal's Brackets. [Why do I ALWAYS have to explain everything to everybody in here. I need a raise...or at least better billing...Brackets, what kind of name is that?...MOVE ON!!!..."]

That's Nealie's Brackets talking. So Neal, you're the best, for being my muse and for being my friend. And for being there for me last week when I wasn't exactly too well put together. [Oh Jesus fucking Christ, willya just stick to knitting, ya lazy skank. Enough with the thank-yous. Why don't you fucking start thanking your mother since this is disintergrating into an Oscar circle-jerk?]

Now, that's the Brackets you didn't read in IK. [And obviously, the medication didn't take the edge off, did it?]

Obligatory Knitting Shit
So in the spirit of my newly anointed and medicated self, I actually got some knitting done this weekend, despite moving more stuff up to E'burg. Remember this?

Well, I finally got off my ass and started the last sleeve. Because I really want it finished. It's a pretty sweater and it was about to grow mold in my knitting basket, along with a couple of other projects like the Magenta Diamonds shawl, and several unfinished pairs of socks. And I did finish one bobbin of the Las Vegas Brights silk and started the second.

Perhaps Seroquel should be renamed UFOquel.

So, that said, I will leave you now for my Ikea chair and TV, where I can watch rare and handy crap while I actually get something done.

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