Girls Are Like Apples

I found this quote via Stumbleupon.

"Girls are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. The boys don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just get the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right boy to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree."

Needless to say, I "disliked" it.

A Happy Relationship

About a year ago, right around the time I found Hooking Up Smart, I started experiencing turmoil in my relationship. I had moved in with Popeye's mom (and her boyfriend, and her sister) and was having trouble knowing how to interact with them. Then Popeye learned he couldn't afford to go back to school, with one semester left, and shit hit the fan. He wasn't getting along with his mom's boyfriend, I wasn't getting along with his mom, and for a couple weeks I seriously considered breaking it off.

Things got better when I moved out of his mom's house and Popeye started spending all his free time at my new apartment. It almost looked like it might be okay, and then BAM I got sick. This was not your normal sickness; this was psychosis (and yes, the doctors tried to diagnose me with schizophrenia at first... who knew bipolar disorder had similar symptoms? I didn't). If I had seen Popeye in that state, I'm not sure what I would have done; I would have been alarmed for our future.

But he stuck by me the whole time. He helped take me to the ER, he listened to my crazy-person rantings over the phone when my parents took me home, he drove across the state to my parents' house and helped them take me to a different hospital (a better one!), and about a week after I came home, he drove across the state again in between working night shifts to surprise me for my birthday. And it wasn't just the sickness; the medicines took a huge toll on me. I wasn't myself for several long months after the episode. It's hard to explain, but it's like I had no emotions or feelings, or even a personality, and I couldn't focus on very basic tasks (it's no wonder I stopped blogging). Popeye still talked to me on the phone everyday, and he visited me a few times until I had the strength to visit him. I'm sure some of it scared him, but he never gave any indication that he was having second thoughts about us. It's easy to say "well obviously, it's not like you were purposely making yourself ill," but mental illness is alarming in a way that other illnesses are not, and it comes with a stigma. Even now, when I see people at school that I knew last year, I just tell them I had a "medical emergency." And these are social workers!

Anyway, it's a sad truth that it took such a traumatic event for me to realize how lucky I am, and understand that I shouldn't have let family drama come as close as it did to ruining my relationship. But once I came out of the hospital, all I wanted to do was see Popeye. The happiest time of my day was those 15 minutes when he would call me between jobs, and all spring and summer I constantly talked about how much I missed him (I drove my parents crazy!). My mom said that once I moved in with him, I would become fixated on something else, but the truth? That hasn't happened. I'm just happy for his presence, even if he works the night shift and spends most of his day sleeping. Finally things are smooth and we're slowly moving towards creating a life together.

Continuing the Journey

I started blogging last winter, when I stumbled upon the Manosphere and felt this unavoidable urge to write; I had so much to say and process, and the more I wrote, the more thoughts came to mind. But just a few months later, in March, I had a life-changing experience in the form of a severe manic episode. I was hospitalized for nine days and drugged to the point of oblivion. When I left the hospital I was basically sleeping 20 hours a day, a side-effect of the medication. But even as I was weaned off some of the more heavy-duty medicines, I couldn't get back to writing. It was like all my ideas and thoughts had been sucked out of me. Since then, I've tried desperately to find a way back to my first blog, but have finally decided that my attempts are and will continue to be futile.

But that does not mean I plan to stop writing; it just means that the nature and theme of my writing will change, so I found it appropriate to start a new blog. While my first blog definitely had a personal bend to it, this one will be more like a diary. I feel sure that I will touch on relationship/gender issues, but I do not plan to make them the primary subject, especially since I am, on the whole, far more scatterbrained than I was before the episode (this does not bode well for my graduate school papers, but you know, one day at a time and all that).

So, what will I write about? you ask. Geez I don't know, stop asking questions. :-P  In all honesty, I have a lot more personal growth to do now than I did when I started blogging. First, school is going to be a huge hurdle, and I'd actually decided to not go back before my doctor gave me a really hard time/my financial aid came through at the last minute. It's going to be a big psychological challenge, something I'll write more about later. Second, I just moved in with my boyfriend (hereafter referred to as Popeye), which has been a really smooth transition so far but will bring its own set of challenges I'm sure. And finally, I'm always struggling to find good female friends, so I won't stop writing about that.

Anyway, that's all for now!