Category Archives: murder

Well, that took awhile…didn’t it?

I finally snapped out of last weeks despair sometime this week. It coincided with Valentine’s Day for the most part. My hotband took me out to the beach hideaway that we love so much. We went for a very romantic (read: EXPENSIVE) dinner at another little hole in the wall that we don’t share with others. Then, we went back to the hotel and had absolutely incredible sex. No. Really. Incredible. I did something for him that I had not done in a very long time.

I played “dress up” for him. Yeah. Trashy lingerie. Big heels. Red lipstick.

The works.

Since being on my medications for bipolar disorder, it is not often that I feel creative anymore. Don’t get me wrong. Feeling sexy is a permanent condition for me. I have really good self-esteem and have always been proud of my body, no matter how big or small it has gotten over the years. However, the medications, while sparing my overly active libido, have completely taken away my desire to have fun with my sex life like we used to.

Ah, I remember the days of giving my husband lap dances in funky little outfits. Yep yep. The products of manic episodes. Alas, those manic episodes, while they still exist to a certain degree, no longer possess the punch of a Napalm bomb quite the way they used to. Plus, we’re together 10 years. There are only so many tricks you can pull out of your hat before you retire the magician, you know what I mean?

Anyway, after V-Day, he spent 9 wonderful days at home as the airports he usually flies out of were snowbound. I had this magnificent creature 24 hours a day for 9 days straight. What I have discovered is that he is a far better medication than anything I take out of a little brown bottle on a nightly basis. He’s fun. Even when he isn’t being funny…he is still fun to be around. He makes me laugh effortlessly. Even when I am being pissy and moody, he still manages to elicit laughter from me.

But, because he makes me feel so good…I tend to ignore my medications. I figure, I’m feeling pretty good. I don’t need them right now. So, I don’t take them. Three days will go by. Then, I will take one med here, another med there…not taking them steadily as I should and all of a sudden…

Thud. Depression.

I am trying to manage my brain. Really I am. I try to do the right things, but there is this little bit of defiance in my personality that doesn’t quite let me manage my care the way I should. Fuck the medicine. I WANT to be manic sometimes! I want the energy to clean my house, go shopping, make some dinner…LIVE a little.

It’s really hard having bipolar disorder. Really hard. Especially when you have the variety that I do, which is rapid cycling bpd. It’s hard to keep up with yourself. Right now, it’s nearly 4 am. I haven’t been to sleep. I’ve been up reading stories on serial killers all night. I am positively obsessed with serial killers. This is not a good obsession for someone with a mental disorder.

People like me should obsess over kittens or little fluffy things. Sparkly toys. Shiny things. Not mass murderers.

So, okay. I’m back on the game again, though not sleeping. But at least I am not in that deep, horrible funk I was in last week. Sometimes, I go back and read my posts and think…who the hell wrote that??

I will look at this one next week and wonder the same exact thing.

I have a really good post looming in the back of my brain. I wanted to post it yesterday, because the timing would have been great, but alas, my fingers and brain would not cooperate. But it is a good story that needs to be told.

In the meantime, a bowl of froot loops is in order.

I am a Democrat…

tried and true. I have always supported the Democratic Party since the time I could first vote, going back to the Reagan era. I have never wavered. Since that time, however, I have found that I am getting a bit more conservative. I used to denote myself as a “liberal”. But now, I don’t know. As I am getting older, I don’t believe in the “live and let live” theory so much any more. What am I floundering on all of a sudden?

The death penalty.

I used to be dead set against it…even in the most heinous of cases. After all, taking one life for taking another somehow doesn’t even the score. I truly believed that, once upon a time, most criminals could be rehabilitated. I believed that more money should have went toward the rehabilitation of these criminals and possibly turn them into productive members of society.

Yet now, I have to admit…my feelings have changed.

I find myself adamently in favor of the death penalty. Not sure where that puts me as a liberal any longer. I suppose the label no longer fits. At least, not as snugly as it used to. I watch all these cases about murder and rape and I find myself wanting these animals put to death. Increasingly, I am adhering to the principles of an eye for an eye. For example, you rape? You get raped. You sodomize? You get sodomized. And, of course, if you commit murder…you die. Plain and simple.

Naturally, the nurse in me wants at very least 99% DNA proof of this before you are mandated to die. There has to be guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt, not reasonable doubt. That’s simply not enough for me.

I have to admit that I feel badly for feeling this way. Maybe it is ever since becoming a grandmother. I don’t want my grandchild brought up in a society full of animals who, with one good defense lawyer, will be released back onto the streets.

A long time ago, I believed that Roman Polanski should be left alone from his crime. The victim had since forgiven him for his transgression some 40 years earlier and there was a monetary settlement reached. Let’s leave it alone. However, now I feel that he has been parading around all through Europe without a care in the world. Frankly, the man is a fugitive and needs to be treated as such. I have watched his Hollywood cohorts hail him as a hero of the film industry. While that may be true, it is also true that he plied a 13 year old girl full of alcohol and quaaludes. He fled the country before ever serving his sentence. I can’t help but wonder if it were Joe Schmoe from Buttfuck, Idaho, would we be satisfied with time served?

As I age, I no longer feel this is justice.

What scares me so much is that I feel like I am losing grip of my liberal self. I want people to be able to live freely with all their rights afforded to them, but at the same time, I think we are giving too much leeway to hardened criminals. It strikes me as odd that people commit DUI manslaughter and receive 3 years in prison.

What really has me a little bitter are the people in my intensive outpatient therapy group. Some of them have committed multiple DUI’s and are relegated to 12 weeks of outpatient therapy. 12 weeks for the potential of having killed themselves or more importantly, someone else. Something just doesn’t feel right about that. I can’t help being a little angry at those members of the group. You can tell which ones are truly remorseful and which ones are just rolling with the punches and jumping through the proverbial legal hoops. It’s frustrating. I want to shake each one of them and tell them that if they are to ever hurt my daughter, son or grandchild, that I will personally kill them myself.

So, I am questioning my commitment toward liberalism now more than ever. And quite frankly, it really has me bothered.