Grant Medicine

I went down to the post office today and mailed off my grant application to Canada Council! Here's hoping! I listened to "Billionaire" by Peaches on my way to the post office in Shoppers and I hope that gives me some kind of luck. From now on all I can do about getting that grant is some witchy spells! But I probably won't.

Grant medicine! HOLY SHIT!~ Am I the first NDN to think of this? This is really what I need right now.

There is this rumour among people that all of us Crees use Love Medicine to get our partners. I don't know anyone who has used Cree Love Medicine. But it sounds awfully fantastic, if it is true.

I'm wearing a blue Mr. Limpy. He is blue because he has been in my jeans, getting rubbed on by blue jean dye. Poor grotesquery!

Anyway, now I don't know what is going on. Some people might come over. I should probably put away all the madness of extra papers on the coffee table where I put my grant together. I didn't count how many pages it was, but it was pretty thick! At least by my standards. I stand behind this grant. It's totally reasonable and intelligently put together. I am celebrating getting it in!

I wonder who will be on the jury this year.

I've been single for a really long time! Crap! I am turning into my mother! ZOMG!

I had a physical for the first time in like, four years or something crazy like that. It was bizarre, I think they always are. Being examined. No wonder alien abductees have such PTSD, even getting that treatment just from a human is kinda creepy.

NOT to call Dr. Saffy creepy, which she definitely is not.

Basically the end of the visit I was just told to cut back on Michael Jackson so I would have more energy, and to eat less sugar because of something to do with fat and blood. Or things with sugar, anyway, since it's very rare I eat sugar straight up, unless it is Sugar In The Raw in which case I steal as many packets as possible.

So that is okay. Whew! And I have to make an appointment with my psychiatrist soon, just because I am due. OMG! I should make an appointment with my dentist too!

Too bad my dentist lives all the way in Forest Grove, because now it's an hour long bus ride to get there!

As someone who has bipolar disorder, I have just been around the disease for my whole life in some aspect, what with it being a genetic illness and my extended family being so large. Not to mention all the different friends with that and other mental illnesses. FUCK THIS SHIT! It's a really tragic illness to have! I hate how it can trick people into thinking they aren't sick.

Sometimes there is awareness when I'm not sane that I am not sane, like with depressions and just after the peak of a manic episode. But when I don't believe I need help I can be pretty difficult to get to a hospital or take my medication, even when I'm walking to the edge of town to meet aliens.

Sheesh!

Anyway, this year has involved a lot of close people having psychotic episodes. I don't know what to do. I'm too far away to really do anything. At least that is how I feel. And there are people who know what is going on better than me. ARG! And I know how bad these things can turn out to be.

And it scares me because this April will be four years since I was hospitalized at Hantleman with the brown baby bunnies and the pod people. With a giant Mr. Peanut hot air balloon flying over us. And when I went to sleep I could look at the scorched sprinkler where someone tried to set it off with a lighter. And I totally alienated my whatever friend by sending her reams and reams of emails cause I was CRAZY! And I don't want to alienate more love interests by being psychotic. It's so depressing to be judged for inappropriate behaviour committed while insane. No wonder there are always wildly low depressions after a manic episode. It's all guilt and embarrassment!

So, before that it was just over four years that I had been hospitalized, and so as you can see, I feel like I've hit some kind of four year trigger that will escalate into me throwing away my meds and starting some kind of revolution with bizarre tenants like eating at Twoonie Tuesday to show support for David Suzuki.

The GOOD news, is that I am not crazy in love with the same person I was then, the one who got all my emails. And who I was pining for until recently. I feel like I have accomplished something immensely great! I am finally ready to meet someone new to love. Or I could have met them already. I don't know. But I am also happy being single. So if I do go crazy, there is no one to send emails to, except my friends, who will still be annoyed, but I will be annoying them equally and not singling someone out.

We don't have two psych wards in Saskatoon anymore, they have merged into an uber psych ward called The Dube Centre. The dubious Dube? I haven't stayed there so I can't give a rating.

There should be a website called Rate Your Psych Ward, where all kinds of ex or current patients can write reviews.

The Thirza Review:

St Luc, Montreal=BAD!!!!
Hantleman, RUH, Saskatoon=Awright.

Okay, I could be more specific but I don't feel like it.

I like having a psychiatrist. She's amazing. I don't think I've ever been so stable as I have while I've been her patient. That's a good review. I should think of a good fake name for her. She looks kind of like Cate Blanchett. She had a skiing accident one year and was gone for six months! I was so miserable. I'm doctor dependent!

This summer I will be getting my gall bladder out. Maybe I will ask for early september. Aw crap, I really want it out, but I won't be able to swim. If I do get it out maybe I will get a tattoo as well just because then I can overlap non-swimmable time! My cherry blossoms are crying out to be inked into my skin!

What a rambly blog. Just ramblin' on.

I hope you clicked on the Peaches link, pretty hot stuff!