It’s been a year

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It’s been nearly a year and a half since I posted to this blog. I haven’t written much in general during that time. I guess the medications they put me on changed my desire to write.

So what’s happened in that time? Well I’ve continued working for the music school I started at shortly before my writing hiatus. However, parts of my job have changed. In addition to the day-to-day tasks I did before I now do video editing, something I’ve been working on for a while. It seems to be going well, although my self-doubt constantly makes me second guess that.

Now onto my moods and meds. I’ve been on the same medication for nearly two years. It has had amazing results, my moods have been mostly stable and my insomnia is nearly nonexistent. Unfortunately, I’ve recently been more down than I had been and my anxiety has been increasing. I began to drink for a short while, luckily I stopped that quickly before it became and issue.

I read an article a while back that mentions that in a lot of cases bipolar meds can stop being effetive after three years. Given that I’m near the two year mark and recently seem to be a little less effective I’m a little worried to say the least. Since I can’t do much about I’ll sit and wait.

I think I’ll try to start writing more, but that’s all for now.

Remember to smile,
Hipster Harrison

 

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I’m too happy to write

I love writing, I always have. Whether it’s boring nonsense with grammatical and typographical errors, or a heart felt expression of my pain and depression. Lately something has changed. I have stopped writing almost entirely.

So why the change? Given my bipolar disorder it could be a manic episode causing me to lose focus and my ability to write. Perhaps it could be depression that has left me so isolated I can’t even reach out to strangers.

I don’t think it’s either of those I think it’s something entirely unexpected; happiness. Plain old happiness.

Up until about a month ago I had stopped going out, seeing friends, I had no job, and most days the thought of getting out of bed was just too much to handle. So what changed?

Well they put me on medications, one of which helps me sleep and I am so grateful for that. I started doing therapy for the first time. These both seemed to help, but not in any substantial way. Then I got a job at a music school for drumming, pretty much my dream job, and suddenly things began to change.

I felt truly happy, especially when I was at work. I didn’t want to go home. This happiness lead to my being able to manage my social anxiety a little better. I seemed to be radiating joy. Friends I hadn’t talked to in months, or in some cases years, wanted to hangout. Everytime I hangout with someone all they could say was that we needed to do it again as soon as possible, which is an experience I haven’t had since my youth.

The therapy and meds almost certainly had some affect, and I will continue them, but it seems that finding something that is so much more than a job, something that makes me eager to get up every morning even if I’m feeling down, is what is truly driving my happiness.

I may have lost some of my desire to write, but I gained so much more. As long as this feeling lasts I will cherish every minute of it!

Remember to smile,
Hipster Harrison

Conditional happiness

So I started my job at a drum studio last week, it is by far the best job I’ve ever had.

It’s a small local business and everyone treats each other like family. Plus I get too play drums anytime I’m not on the clock.

Unfortunately my meds still seem to be fairly useless because the days I don’t work I return to my anxious depressed self.

I see my psychiatrist today, so hopefully they’ll up or change my meds in a way that helps.

Wish me luck!

Remember to smile,
Hipster Harrison

Tree

Love is like a tree; it grows with time, radiating beauty. But when that tree dies, the roots remain a painful reminder of what was; what could have been.

Remember to smile,
Hipster Harrison

Inevitably death

The smarter the person the more they analyze. There is a direct correlation between genius and insanity; especially anxiety.

Well I feel suicidal, not so much that I’ll likely kill myself, but in a way that makes me feel like a fucking genius.

This world is shit. We ignore everything that is wrong with distractions. Forget the children dying of malaria, I have cable.

How can anyone live knowing all that is wrong. It baffles my mind and breaks my heart. Some days my ability to do nothing kills me inside.

Fuck cable, vacations, vegans, celebrities, and every other asshole who ignores the problem.

I’m literally in tears over the pathetic state of this planet.

Fuck everyone.

Remember to smile,
Hipster Harrison

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The call came late in the night
A voice I knew all too well
Yet had not heard in ages
I could instantly hear the pain
Her voice trembled as she tried to speak
“She’s dead”
These words burned in my ear
I could picture the tears streaming down her face
But what was I to do
My long lost love looked to me for comfort
But I had none to give
My cold heart too numb to save her
So I listened, silent
As she cried herself to sleep

Remember to smile,
Hipster Harrison