Philosophical wonder woman

  I'm notoriously early to bed, early to rise these last couple years. Was more like a habit, and rhythm my body fell into. I do love the early morning hours because they are dew kissed, possibility filled, moments. Everything after that is hard. But life is struggle; whether you have mood disorders or a physical disability. Or even under "normal" circumstances I'd argue life is hard. What I need to do is unearth my optimistic, almost silly side. Where has that joy gone? Side note: doing the early bed/early rise thing doesn't guarantee healthy, wealth or wise. Or was that only applicable to men Mr. Franklin? So where has the whimsical me gone? I could argue it started hiding as soon as "grown up" issues became so important and necessary. So where is she hiding? I tried to freestyle dance (my favorite thing) the other day and I felt nothing. I could tap side to side, I could do the smallest, most basic things. (that could actually be the biproduct of anti

 I made a commitment to blog, and so far I'm not off to a great start. My excuse was moving. 2 weeks of intense manual labor. I broke down a few times during the process... not surprising. My husband was a model of perseverance and patience. It's embarrassing to be someone who can't always contain their emotions. But hell, my anxiety and bipolar disorders are life disturbing constantly. Anyone with these conditions would know. Trouble is the folks who will never be able to understand, and therefore continue to judge, use stigma, or blatantly berate those with mood disorders. I was once told in an online comment, that I should just die because I'm too sensitive for this world.   I seem to want to blog about bipolar - so I want that to stay pure, and not indulgent. I say the above types of things a lot. What I need to do is read it 5 or so times and then not say it again. Mood disorders aside, I've been feeling better the past couple days (after moving, unpacking, get