Pieces or Peace?

I had to back off from this blog (and other online endeavors) for a minute.

That happens a lot…. there’s a shutdown inside my head and I run away… from Facebook, blogging, plans with friends, social engagements…

Yes, and it’s just another “wonderful” piece of the Bipolar puzzle. It’s part and parcel of an inconsistent existence that is often muddied under waves of procrastination and confusion.

Let me explain…

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Battle Cry: Soldier On

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I’ve lived the majority of my years in a small county nestled in the cradle of “Central Virginia” and securely fastened to the “Bible Belt” of the United States. My parents are both ministers and my foundation was built at Church, despite abject negativity in my early years. My cornerstone is Faith. It is fluid to me and grows, changes… transforms throughout the years.

Over the last few weeks I’ve shared things about my past that very few people knew. It was difficult to evaluate my experience and necessary to find courage to speak. Yes, it’s brave…. sharing information this deep and challenging in a public forum. It requires hurtful consideration of my fragility which has been torn by life events and illnesses.

So, what does that make me? Continue reading

Battle Cry pt. 2

Battle Cry: Storming the Castle

     My name is Christy and I’m a person living with Bipolar. I refuse to stay anonymous, though, because I think it’s too important that we who survive mental, emotional, and invisible physical disorders need to speak up about what exactly it means to live with these challenges. We need to cry out and cry loud and speak clearly our truths. We are warriors.

     Every warrior needs a battle cry, right? So, if words are our chief weapon to encourage understanding of our individual challenges then it only stands to reason that I would find my strength from the Bible. It is the foundation of my family and the cornerstone of my childhood home. Which, begs the question… how can you face what happened to you as a child and still harbor any positive feelings for anything “Christian”?  Continue reading

The Battlefield (A Teaser)

 

The old grey mare staring out from my mirror, tapping her finger like a frustrated roommate… she said to me:

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Suit up, it’s time.

Life is both a battlefield and a stage… you’ve heard this before.

It doesn’t matter if your ready…

You haven’t prepared? That’s too bad. There’s no more training…

no practice or drills.

You’re running late, actually, you were supposed to be off-script two decades ago.

Your blocking, your props and all your “business” should come naturally by now.

So, go.

Grab your costume, armor…. choir robe… cap and gown…

straight-jacket

Meet us on the battlefield and don’t forget your armor.

Suit up! It’s time!

Battle Cry (pt. 1)

 Active Shooter in Dallas: May 1, 2017

     I’ve started working on my next post but felt the need to share briefly after seeing the news from Dallas, TX. John’s brother and his wife live in Fort Worth, my brother and sister-in-law. I love them so much and have felt they are a blessing so often over the years. 

     Knowing, as well, that every life touched by these shootings, stabbings, and other attacks is someone’s loved one, someone’s family… someone’s everything….
Please, let’s remember and reaffirm every day of our lives: “Faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13

Let’s make this our “Battle Cry”! Love is love. Period. 💕 No one can take that away.

Fiddledeedee and tomorrows…

 

Scarlett: Fiddle-dee-dee! War, war, war; this war talk’s spoiling all the fun at every party this spring. I get so bored I could scream. Besides… there isn’t going to be any war.
 
    No, Scarlett, though everyone wishes you were right. In reality there is always a war. Always.
 
    Whether brought by family, friend or foe we will forever come face to face with discouragement, adversity, jealousy, and confusion. Sometimes arriving on a daily basis. We are forced to fight for survival in this world. Every human soul is battling similar issues.
 
     The worst wars? Those are the ones we fight against ourselves. 
 

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You Want A Piece Of Me?

 

Let’s just get this out of the way first: I’m not a “Victim” and I hate that term. Instead, I prefer to be called a survivor.

 

 

My childhood was very eclectic and could be thought of as “perfect” in a lot of ways. Isn’t that the way it should be? I have wonderful adoptive parents and a biological mother that put my needs before her own. My entire family is wonderful and very dedicated to my health and safety.

 

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