Cheese Puffs Are The Schnizz...

 

I love cheese puffs. 

I use them as rewards for me, because although they are not healthy, they taste like heaven in a puffy cocoon. I suck on them and can feel them just crush down into my mouth, the air going out of them. All that is left is the flavor that I savor as I finish it up and swallow. Ew? Well, to each her own. That is my reward that lets me do things like …. mop a floor, or write a story, or even perk up when I have made a mistake. 

Because mistakes are horrible for me. I happen to believe that I am not allowed to make mistakes.  

I know, no one is perfect, but apparently, this only applies to other people. I am not supposed to make mistakes. I am supposed to do things correctly the first time, and be amazing all the time. I honestly have believed that. So I am very hard on myself when I have a human moment. Sometimes I wallow in it for a time.

So my cheese puffs are there to say, “Dur, it’s just a mistake. Get over it. Other people have moved on, and don’t give a crap about your mistake anymore. No one is thinking about you but you. Have a puff and move on. Sheesh.”  That’s what cheese puffs are about.  Which is why they are so vital to me when I make a mistake with the Bipolar part of my life. 

I am not perfect while living with Bipolar. I have to admit it in order for me to move forward with it. It is my human moment part in my life, and it comes up at the most unexpected times.  Like when I stay up too late. Or when I don’t eat correctly, or when I forget to take my medicine with me on a trip. Or when I take my medicine late.  Silly things that have always been part of my life, and have been just part of me being a nerd are now things that trigger Bipolar Nerd.

It’s like my Nerd is magnified 100 times when Bipolar is in charge for the day. 

English: Typical Dollar Store, San Francisco (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Like… Not caring if I wear matching shoes. (Erp.)  Or, spending a large amount of money on things that are just silly, from the Variety Store (it seems very important to buy them at the time.)  Or, talking on the phone, texting on the same phone, biting my nails, and forgetting to care if I stop at a Stop sign.  (Cause yeah, I decide to drive while doing all that earlier stuff as well. I DO stop at the sign, but I just don’t care about it.)  Scary? Yes.  Especially because it all seems perfectly normal when I am having an especially …human… bipolar day.  Mistakes could be made when I don’t stay within certain Bipolar rules. So you can see why making a mistake is something I just can’t afford. 

And that is hard for me to admit, ergo the Puffs.

 I just figured out that I cannot do this alone. You know, living with Bipolar, and living life. So I take medicine and the Bipolar days become Sharon Days. Woot. But I also know that I cannot live life without ……. living life.  I don’t do well with doom and gloom. In fact, my journey is currently consisting of finding the humor in the quirks that happen because of this new development. You know, being in the roller coaster of the ups and downs that are part of living with Bipolar. 

So here are some funny things about me when I have an up. I mean a really…up…up.  I happen to get abit narcissistic. It looks like me looking in the mirror a lot, fixing my hair a lot, and taking five pics of me to get just the right pic so I can post it in Facebook, and make it look like it was a casual look in the camera.  On a normal day, I’d look 3 time in the mirror and take the pic as is.   But on an … UP… day, I will look at myself in the mirror 3 times as many times in a day, but I can’t seem to concentrate on what  I’m looking at, so I will look at my nose for 1 time, and my ear for another, and maybe my mouth. But I cannot look at my entire face or body because, WHO HAS TIME FOR THAT?

In fact that is my entire life on that day.  I am moving so fast that I don’t have time to think because WHO HAS TIME TO PONDER?  I will see a quarter on the ground and stoop to pick it up, but because i am going fast, I don’t have time to stop and pick it up with my fingers, so I miss it.  I stop, turn around and go for it again, and miss it again. This time, surprised that it isn’t in my hand, i squat down so i can get a good grip, and again, I miss it.  Now i’m a bit frustrated, and I think I will simply scoop it up with my hand. Nope. I get a bit of grime from the ground, but no quarter. I finally move on because i am sure that somehow the quarter has been glued to the ground and i am on candid camera. 

My daughter is watching the thing perplexedly, comes by behind me, and picks up the quarter for me to see. She is 5 then.  I have been shown up by a five-year old.  that’s funny. 

I need Cheese Puffs in my life to let me know that I have a reward for when my shoes do match, as well. Or for when I recognize that I am getting a bit too …UP…, and I just skip driving altogether. Or when I fold socks and stay put instead of spending money on dollar store toys. 

Or for when I get the quarter on the first try.  

I could get disturbed by what the …ups… could do in my life, and I have been. But I am at a place now where I am in control of it, and 99.9 percent of the time you will never know that I do battle with the Bipolar part of my life. I am safe to drive, to shop, and to dress myself. And, I guess, to write a bit. That is a win. 

Now where did I put my bag of Cheese Puffs
?