AI Tom Hanks

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Creative Process, Humor, Personal reflection /

Finding humor in the world of mental health seems like searching for a haystack on a needle. Apparently lifelong battles with one’s own mind doesn’t always bring out the

The funny side of life—I do think it’s possible to embrace it. The hard part for me is separating my symptoms from my personality. For instance, I know I’ve had periods of mania and depression, but that isn’t me. Yet sometimes, I feel like if I start joking again, those around me will think I’m not being serious enough—like I have to be serious to prove I’m aware of my bipolar brain.

It’s a bit like seeing a divorced person dancing at a wedding. People might think, How can they dance like that? They’re divorced. They should be sad. Divorced people can’t have fun. That’s how it feels. I become hyper-self-aware and think, I better not joke or poke fun—it’ll be like letting my guard down to the shame of my disorder.

I’m working on this. My goal is to be able to share my musings with anyone who wants to listen, to prove that even after a mental breakdown, we can still wake up and make fun of the Today show. It’s our right.

So, look forward to intense arguments and deep thoughts about why it’s totally appropriate to put ketchup on a hot dog or the wild theory that Tom Hanks actually died while filming Forrest Gump and has been AI ever since. It’s thoughts like these that make life what it’s supposed to be—fun.

Distracted, Loved, and Blogging Anyway

Behind the scenes, Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Creative Process, Mental Health, Personal reflection /

I’m working on the blog as much as I can. Oddly, the writing part seems to come easy—or naturally—probably because I’ve been bottled up for so many months, searching for a way to express myself without making those around me think I’m “going into a crazy zone.” It’s a delicate balance.

The part that doesn’t come naturally is the functionality of the blog. It’s like the more I mess with it, the more I screw it up. I just want a clean website that includes a blog and a podcast page. Sounds simple, looks easy, yet if you aren’t familiar with the tools, you stumble around trying to do things that you know you can do—or maybe even have done before—but now seem impossible.

At some point, the site will be as close to perfect as I can make it. When that will be? I’m not sure. That’s just how it goes when you’re chasing a vision that feels complete in your mind, but as it starts to come together, you think, “Wait, why don’t I do this too?” And then that decision affects everything else.

It also doesn’t help that I’m building this in the dining room, where my presence apparently invites random curiosity and persistent distractions. Even though those distractions come from a place of warmth and love, they can still be, well, distracting. I try to accept them as part of the process and not outwardly show how annoying it is to be patted on the shoulder every time someone walks by, causing me to stop, say, “What’s up?” and hear, “Oh, nothing, just love you.” I love you too. I’ve said that three times in the past hour.

Ultimately, I suppose I’d rather have the intermittent love check-ins than none at all, so I’ll stop complaining. I’ll get it done. And yes, I do expect a pat on the back for doing it.