Sunday, February 26, 2012

A GIRL CAN DREAM



Only one thought,
              Grab a hold tight.

Only one thought,
              None in the night, 

Only one thought,
              Things would be so calm.

Only one thought,
              Only one before the dawn, 


A Girl can dream
A Girl can wish
A girl can ask for something this lavish
For this is her world
This is her mind

Only one thought,
             One thought at a time.



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Jillian - All Rights Reserved©2012

Saturday, February 25, 2012

AWAKE BEFORE DAWN


Awake before dawn,

She lays staring, thinking, ideas,comparing, 

Her mind plays her like a pawn. 

Thinking thoughts of a positive breed, 

Trying to lay the foundation,

Pushing back any negativity,

As irrational thoughts flood through her mind,

She remembers a time,

Which adds a smile to her tattooed brows and fading smile line,

When life was simple and kids were young, 

When love was pure,

Un-invaded and strong.

"Simplicity" she thinks, 

As she lay awake before dawn,

Staring, thinking, 
anticipating, contemplating,

As her mind continues to play her like a pawn.




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Saturday, February 18, 2012

SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE?




So you think you can dance? says a young mind to her soul.
So you think you can dance, then common you asshole.
I dare you to dance,
I dare you to dream,
I dare you to design me; provide me with your reality.
If it’s a world so divine, so vivacious, so keen,
Let’s take it for a spin round the block, pinky promise not to be to mean.
I can handle the truth, the reality, even the blunt talk,
But cruelness and coldness or ideas that stalk,
Please keep these away and don’t let them settle in.
My brain is quiet fragile, a hand blown piece of glass,
It holds so much information and processes so fast
The ideas that come and the ideas that go
The ideas churn over and over like something you’ll never come close to know
But if you think you can dance then let’s make this real
“Grab life by the horns, buck up, and fucking deal!”
THIS is life, yes every day for me!
This isn’t a game or a poised choreography,
The thoughts so many so frequent so still
I can’t organize anything and I’ve about had my fill!
I call you an asshole because I don’t know why you’re here,
I asked you to dance, not grab the wheel and steer!
You’ve driven us off course,
You’ve gone too far,
Can you stop for one god damn moment!?
I need to make sense of this all.  
I don’t want another website, a trip, or a fall,
I want to stop, make sense, perhaps dance in it all.
Embrace the music, one beat at a time, smile and feel it flow
Alongside the music as it tickles my mind
I ask “So you think you can dance?” one thought at a time
Why yes I can, are you ready for the ride?
The dance is fast, sick and rude
Inconceivable thoughts and be careful, they’re never prude.
I will step here, I will step there, I will step everywhere
stomping into the darkest dark caves inside your fragile little brain.
You can call me what you want, you can even beg of me to refrain
From the terror you will feel as I try to maintain 
this sick and twisted mentality picture frame
that only YOU will have the privilege of being stuck in
my restraints, confides and everyday HELL
no one gets to save you, or release you from my jail.
So let’s go.  
Let’s dance.
Let’s begin to design 
your perfect reality in which you will reside.

“So you think you can dance?”  says a young mind to her soul.

If you think you’re in the lead, think again, a little faster this time, 
you fucking asshole.  


These are MY thoughts, MY space, MY ideas to bear,

I’m in control of this fruitful fragile ship, 


And today is my day to actually give a shit.  



-          Jillian Beedle – All Rights Reserved 2012 ©







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Thursday, February 2, 2012

THE MEETING

THE MEETING


I called the helpline and spoke to Andy.  He was kind and inviting.  He directed me to an organized group of people that meet once a week who were "one of us".  I wanted to attend regardless of the anxiety and fear of the unknown.  Driving there I was sure I would be on time despite the confusing directions. 

    Take the parking garage to the right, go straight, then into the building, take a right past the lobby, then a left, then a right, then look for the 2nd to 3rd door down.  

I was lost in the parking garage literally going around and around.  I was confused and panicking.  I suddenly stopped my vehicle and began to breathe rapidly.  My heart was pounding so fast I grabbed my chest and the thoughts began racing.

    I should get out of here.

    THIS IS A SIGN.

What was I thinking.  These people have an established group and I know how that is when a newbie walks in.  After all, I was the President of the "Let's talk about people to take the focus off of me" club. 

    OMG.  OMG. OMG.

    I can't even find the building let alone the classroom door!

    BEEP! BEEP!  I looked up in the rear view mirror realizing there I was parked in the middle of the roadway and a car cannot get around me.  I made up my mind I was going to find my way out of the garage and head towards home.  As I made my way out of the garage, I kept hearing a voice telling me

    Just Go.  Late or not.  You will not survive this disease.  YOU WILL DIE.

I finally found the building and walked through the massive glass doors which proceeded with an empty lobby which was dimly lit.  My thoughts echoed in the contemporary entryway.  The floors so polished I could see my reflection which I got lost in for just a second not recognizing the girl looking back at me.  There was a door to the right, who knew what was behind it.  A hallway to the left with dozens of doors.  I decided the hallway was the optimal choice since I could visually see doors.  It seemed as though the more steps I took there were more hallways with doors.  I was petrified and anxiety was kicking in and kicking my ass.  I stopped walking.  I stood still in the middle of the hallway as if in an intersection of nameless corridors and rooms.  Everything was silent and I could hear my breath.  I crumpled the directions which were moist from sweaty palms.  I looked down the long hallways and they appeared to grow longer as the anxiety grew.  Actually viewing my surroundings watching them physically change dimensional shape and form is very freighting to say the least.  Anger started to fill my mind as I uttered a few foul words quietly.  Damnit!  WHERE is the room?  Storming down the hallway directly in front of me determined to find this group.  I counted the doors as they passed one after another, each one just as black and silent as the one before.  It seems like slow motion as I approached the last door on the right with the light on.  I slowly opened the door and took inventory of the entire room.  Colors, faces, hair, gender and any open seats.  The group smiled, kept talking and pointed out one more open seat.  A very calm welcoming director gracefully pulled the chair out and said "welcome, please sit".  I sat down and immediately pushed my chair back away from the long conference table and took out my notebook. 

I began sketching the geometric shape of the table, labeling the members and their disorders as they spoke.  They all talked with an exuberant amount of honesty and humility.  As the two hours passed it came my turn to share.  I just cried and told them how scared I am and the fact that they are here actually dealing with the very same thing was an amazing gift they had already given me.  They were all reassuring me that the acceptance stage was the most difficult but that it would get easier.  They were proof.  They were comforting and reassuring.  They seemed so experienced in the midst of their disease.  The amazing thing is they all looked normal.  With the awful stigma surrounding bipolar and general mental illness I figured "they" would be dirty, slurring, un-educated and non-productive.   I was relieved to see 
NORMAL.  PRETTY.  HANDSOME.  REAL. 

This single group has saved my life and I find myself looking forward to it every week! 

Please reach out to a local group. 


 It's just a Google away. 



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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

DEAR FAMILY



DEAR FAMILY-
just let me explain.

It is so vitally important for me to inform all of you that I have a serious mental illness.  I have bi-polar disorder.  I am NOT bi-polar. 
I HAVE a disorder called bi-polar.
I have been diagnosed several times by three different doctors that specialize in the field of Psychiatry and can pinpoint bipolarity out in a crowd from across the room.  I managed to “fool” 2 of my doctors, one being a psychiatric nurse practitioner and one my therapist in which I was “fired” from.  Because of my inability to admit I actually had a disease in which I was convinced the devil had infiltrated my mind, body and soul.  Life became very messy and I could no longer pick up the pieces.  I was OUT OF CONTROL.   My marriage was falling apart at the seams.  My husband had communicated with me several times that I needed to get help.  He told me that no matter what he just wanted to see me health and happy.  I became filled with anger.  I would lash out at him or anyone that stood in my way.  It didn’t seem to matter if it were family, friends, co-workers….even my children.  I expected people to conform to my world.  It was justified and powerful.  I created a business and signed on the dotted line with my new business partner.  She was a young gal single, beautiful, schooled, and an innocent bystander in my path.  My world became lonely and I would tell myself the solitude was comforting.  I didn’t want to deal with other people or their issues.  My days were filled with new dot com creations.  One after another I created more and more promising myself and the family that they would bring riches.  I was consumed and thus were my days.  Alone in my office with nothing but my computer and over 20 dot com sites I soon became engrossed and my family continued to become ignored.  Hearing the discontent and disapproval I chose to ignore them.  After all, I was going to be the success.  My husband would no longer have to work.  The children could attend elite college and we would have a grand house to show off my hard work.  My housework grew and remained simply undone.  The laundry piled high and the dishes stacked.  Dinners were a thing of the past.  I just didn’t have time.  Homework was expected to be completed by them alone, after all, it was theirs to own.  My husband worked hard trying to provide but the income just wasn’t enough with the amount of debt I had racked up in the previous years during my unintended rampage of destruction. 
This is the reality of mania.
Complete unawareness of the disease and lack of education I continued this behavior. 
With mental illness played by many characters in some of our favorite Hollywood movies like “The One That Flew Over The Coo Coo’s Nest”, it is ironic that this disorder captures viewer’s attention for with racy climax, un-imaginable behavior and quick actions to the devil like behaviors to the dramatic aftermath.  Perhaps that’s the reason for obtaining its famous name, ”BI”.  The two complete opposite poles.  For the rational thinker this is almost inconceivable.  Shouldn’t it just be happy or sad?  Sure, if you’re a two-D thinker.  But in the mind of a three-D thinker the world is bold, bright, brave, elite, creative and virtually untouchable.  Just as appealing as this sounds to everyone there is unfortunately always a down side to every up.  Every high has its low.  Every party winds down and yes…it all comes out in the wash.  The low moments are comparable to hell.  Figuratively speaking it is like a lifetime alone in a cellar with no natural light to condition your cells.  In no time the cells begin to die and diminish, sloughing off one by one as we watch them disintegrate in midair as though they never existed.  You slowly realize you’ve left very little memory or trace of who you really were.  With no legacy to pass onto the younger generations, life has no meaning.  It begins to infiltrate your soul leaving behind absolutely no meaning with no apparent reason to carry on.  There will never be light.  You feel so empty with no escape route.  You are convinced the only way out is suicide. 
This is the reality of depression.
With this existence constantly cycling it becomes so difficult to exist.  It shifts without warning and at times provides you with clarity and the ability to look back and reflect.    This wears on the entire family and becomes just as exhausting for them to deal with.  Eventually they refuse to carry on this way.  Not due to a lack of love or compassion but because they too need to survive. 
                                                       Alarming stats.
With the symptoms gradually becoming worse as time passes by this disease becomes rather dangerous left untreated.  With an estimated 19 million Americans suffering from depression about 20% of people diagnosed with bipolar disorder die by suicide. 
                                                      The good news.
The great news eighty percent to 90 percent of people who have bipolar disorder can be treated effectively with medication and psychotherapy. 
If you are concerned about your symptoms or a family member I urge you to reach out for help.  No one has to suffer. 
I've listed a few references for more information and facts here.


 

THINKING IN 3-D




Thinking in 3d for the past 9 months has allowed mental, physical, & social freedom.  Living without constraints on a personal level allows a wonderful free-flow alongside emotions.  With an allowance of abundance I gain a false sense of assistance - as if the world and its trauma is not applied to me. 




Wednesday, January 25, 2012

LIFE MOMENTS



LIFES MOMENTS

Life consists of moments. 
Moments are made of memories. 
Memories are created either by ourselves, others or both. 
When these memories are created by others they are account of plus one behavior, meaning they involve more than only our actions.  These memories are our actions plus another’s behavior, choices and convictions.
When we capture or create our own memories we possess a power so convincing we actually believe and interpret these and they ultimately become our reality.


Sometimes we choose to share our "realities" to form imagery in our subconscious.  As humans we exhibit behaviors that are dependent on our imagery and memories of events, people, places and times that are remarkable to us.

What happens though when your imagery is opposite of another’s? 

What is standard protocol when a memory involving plus one differs from another?
Is it factual to say that they are both correct?
It's fair to say (which I believe is the "easy answer") that they are both correct.
Or perhaps it's simply a different point of view by the interpreter.

Whatever the case may be it is astounding to me that during the exact interaction, the exact time, the exact setting two separate people can have such a different opinion of the accounted events.


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