Stop the presses...

What is your emergency?

One of the only good things I have found in Bipolar is an increase in creatvity (during the "upswing"). I like to think that I am a decent artist so this is can be helpful. It also can be harmful for me too. At times I get a little overwhelmed by the "out pour" and have to stop. I get obsessive-compulsive and anxiety about the project so I leave it undone. I don't stop thinking about it though and some nights go to bed, never getting any solid rest. Eventually when it has all passed I get to look back and see what I made. By then I forget what the big deal was...

I always forget what the manic state is like. Until it comes back around. Its like an old friend you haven't seen in awhile and it doesn't take long to remember why you aren't friends anymore...

A couple years ago I starting using Adobe Photoshop.

but who will watch...

The Watchmen?
I'm not incredibly familiar with the graphic novel this was adapted from. I do know that Zak Snyder, the guy that made 300 and Dawn of the Dead, has made a pretty fucking cool looking movie of it though...

Prescription #0000001

I wasn't diagnosed with Bipolar disorder until my early twenties. Sometimes I wonder how different my life would have been if it was realized sooner. I thought I was just really fucked in the head. I didn't know being "fucked in the head" had a medical term. I'm not sure it would have made a vast improvement on the angst-filled years of my youth anyway. Sometimes the line between a teenage boy and bipolar is blurry. In high school, I had a lot of friends, but it was only because I pretended to share interests, laugh at jokes, and complain about...whatever. I didn't feel like I was a part of them, I felt apart from them. At times I questioned if I was even really a person or just some misguided or malfunctioning high-tech robot. I often chose solitude over social gatherings because "pretending" can start to hurt. It mostly hurt my face. You can fake all you want, but it all relies on facial expressions and that hint of interest in your eyes.
After awhile though, if you pretend to care long enough, it actually starts to become real. Either because now you are kidding yourself, or something rewired in the brain.
I still have to fake this shit sometimes, but at least it doesn't hurt my face as bad.

With this blog I hope to share my UPS and downs, the good and the bad. I'll try to be honest but it is in my nature to embellish a little... I enjoy writing and graphic art so I'll share that shit too.
There will be some laughs and tears (probably only mine). Thanks for reading.

The words of J.R.R. Tolkien-
Not all those who wander are lost.

(dramatic blog ending)

Help is on its way.

I am originally from Maine but now I currently live in Dallas Texas. Weather's coolin' off down in these parts. Good.
I am married to a lovely woman named Jamie. She does well taking care of me and my son Milo. Milo was recently diagnosed with Cerebal Palsy. It is an awful disorder of the brain... He is a certified bad-ass though is one hell of a fighter. He's almost a year old and has gone through a lot of shit. I am still a little bitter about the hand my son has been dealt. Maybe someday he will tell me that he isn't, then I think I can move on. Until then, the universe, with its infinite reasons of 'why bad things happen' can go to hell. See? Bitter.

I suffer a mental condition known as Bi-polar Disorder. I hate its fucking guts.
Sorry. I sound like a bit of a downer.

Like I said my wife does well taking care of us.