2019 and Me

2019

I try not to put much emphasis on the new year but this year seem a bit different. Setting resolutions is not my style but I have set three goals for myself as well as a word. All of it surrounds the discovery of self. I stumbled into my forties in December of 2018 and am surprised I made it this far. Life as a bipolar alcoholic hasn’t been without struggle and pain.


If 2018 taught me anything it was that I have not a clue who I am. Where I start and my illnesses end. Simple things such as what I love, my style, my individual identity, my voice have been masked by pain and were once drowned by alcohol. As I peep forward into 2019 I foresee pain yet with life-changing results. I will follow the intuition that I have ran from my entire life. Stepping out of myself to volunteer my time to the less fortunate will play a huge role in my new year.

Something I have always craved is understanding. How can I convey my truth and my story without knowing who I am? That has become my mission; find me. Forgiving myself and others will help boost my confidence and allow me to shake that heavy energy. I have felt a continual pull towards giving of myself to others and 2019 is the year this will happen. My plan is to give of myself in hopes of finding myself. If nothing I will have contributed to my community.

revengeofeve.com/

The opportunity of working with local sex workers has opened up for me and I am excited to give it a go. While I have never been a sex worker myself I share similar qualities to those in this area of work. Yes will be my go-to for helping others in need but no for those close to me. Sounds a bit backward but I find that those close to me aren’t in need, they are in want. Hell, I want it all but the reality is I can’t have it and so I say no to them. It will be a big change and difficult I am sure but all will be fine.

I set no expectations on 2019. I will follow lead. My heart’s lead. I want to learn to love and not feel ashamed that I do. I want to embrace what my soul desires. And I will. No matter how awkward it is. I will follow. I am going to paint, write, and believe in myself. And if I fall, I will rise stronger than before!! If I can do it, anyone can.


Six years ago I was drunk sleeping in my truck in an unfamiliar Wal-Mart parking lot. I was kicked out of three sober living homes and considered myself worthless. Well, in my pit of despair and at the bottom of a gallon of vodka I decided I was worth something. Now it is four years later and I am three years and nine months sober seeking that something. One lesson I have learned is that life requires time. Time to prepare, time to believe, time to heal and time to forgive. My journey will not be in vain. I will be patient with myself this coming year and I will have more compassion for others.

revenge of eve
revengeofeve.com

If you are interested in following my journey, please do! I have completely revamped my site. I deleted all of my old content, bought my domain, upgraded my plan and look forward to recording my journey at revengeofeve.com.


With confidence I created my own niche and will blog about a variety of topics but of course mental health plays a huge role in my life and serves as the basis of all I do. Embracing my truth and learning to live will be my legacy. Do you know yours?

The Realness

Language warning

The most difficult aspect of mental illness for me to come to terms with has been its control.

I have been able to categorize life with mental illness as far as my case is concerned.

  • Living with mental illness: days of bliss when you would have to convince me that I have mental illness.
  • Maintaining my mental illness: days of monitoring my feelings and “controlling” them so they do not reach extremes.
  • Mental illness is a part of me: days of empowerment where I share with the world about my recovery from mental illness.
  • Not feeling right: days of aggravation that can lead to anger outburst if not closely monitored. source? never apparent or definable
  • Struggling with mental illness: days where no matter your coping mechanisms, you are shown that while you would like to think you can control your symptoms, you are proved wrong. You have no control whatsoever.
  • Sick: hospitalized

Of all of these days, the worst for me is the struggle. No matter what you do to try and distract yourself from what is going on within you, it makes itself known. You try to implement the coping mechanisms you’ve been taught. Your attention may be elsewhere but guess what?? It will remind you through ways of struggle. Struggle to breathe, struggle to focus, struggle to think, struggle to communicate, struggle to find the will to live. The fucking struggle!

My personal stats for today do not look too good. My mind has once again brought me to my knees reminding me that no matter what I do, it will always be more powerful than me. No amount of counseling or coping skills can change this. Sure it lessens the blow but it doesn’t change the fact that I am basically …. mentally ill.

Have you ever been out of control? Has your mind ever tried to convince you that you are a waste of space? Has your mind knocked on your egos door and ran away laughing? Have you ever been reduced to nothing, by your mind? Have you done everything in your power to ensure days of living with mental illness when in reality you are met with days of struggle?

Life with mental illness ultimately means that you are not in control. You are at the mercy of your molecules, your unbalanced chemistry which has no sympathy for what you had planned for the day, much less how you wanted to feel. Mental illness is real and for those of you who question it, fuck you because today I am struggling.


My life lived with bipolar 1, mild OCD and anxiety

oh, how dare I forget? and a substance abuser!

Today, they all fought for attention

Today’s personal stats:

Mental illness: 10

Me: 0

The Boiler Within

I often like to imagine that if I do not discuss my mental illnesses they will fade away.  Out of sight, out of mind.  Such isn’t reality.  Living daily with a mood disorder reminds you of the lack of control you have over your own mind.  This reminder can be challenging for a control freak like myself. Pretending all will dissipate only works in Hollywood.  When I wake, it is still there.  Weighting me down on my best days.  I wake happy.  I fluctuate between happiness and aggravation every day blaming others stupidity, stupidly.

The fun part of it all is ignoring my symptoms.  Only to be reminded of them slamming me into a brick wall.  Time after time I lose a battle that only I am fighting because only I am stubborn enough to believe I am in control.  Who am I kidding?

Medication does its part which I am grateful for.  Without it, I am a hot mess express barreling down the tracks at a rate of speed comparable to lightning.  Striking every individual emotion along its way.  At that point, my illness is out of control fighting against itself.  Shew! I don’t miss those days of chaos!

closeup of mirror shards

Photo by Amber Lamoreaux on Pexels.com

Days spent in la-la land remind me of a time before I was told I was sick.  Me with my illnesses were normal, my normal anyway and who else matters?  I mean, really!  My Ma will tell you I’ve always been special, meaning my explosive moods will catch you, guard, because they are disguised with love and innocence.  An innocence that is childlike.  Others may call it clueless but that isn’t it.  I never know what will make me tingle.  But what I do know is that when I tingle, I get mad.  I hate it.  I despise that part of me.  I hate the removal of taste from my taste buds.  I hate that damn tingle!  And then afterward I am embarrassed and hate myself.  It’s a cycle that can’t be broke but luckily it is tamed.

I’m a girl.  I’m not supposed to be so mean.  So I’ve been told.  I’m too pretty to be so angry.  Funny thing is, everyone claims looks to be deceiving.  I don’t know why I am mad at the world but it sure as hell pisses me off.  That’s the thing about anger, it’s an issue.  An issue that I live with and not because I asked for it.

Living with mental illness is challenging enough without all the added stressors, questions and doubt.  I just want to be me.  I just want to feel ok enough to be ok with who I am and who I’ve always been.  I live with another side of myself that I can’t explain why it is the way it is and that’s tough.  I’ve never met anyone with an anger problem who is proud to have it.  It’s a battle.  Yes, we learn how to cope but to say it is easy to implement would be a lie.  In a fit of anger, all goes black for me.  How am I to think then?  I try.  Man do I try.  I’ve gotten better because of medical assistance but I’m not cured nor will I ever be.  I hang onto hope.  Hope for self-acceptance.  Hope for understanding and hope for compassion.

I’m sorry you piss me off.  Imagine how pissed I am at myself!

My Personal Account

Being bipolar can be maddening. The ever so daunting thoughts. The indecision. The opposing poles. Constant doubt. Add the fear of judgment (anxiety) and obsessive patterns (OCD) to the mix and you’ve got a cocktail for an adventure. More or less, you get me in all my glory.

For the majority of my life, I thought everyone’s brain operated like mine. The battle, ya know? Actually, most of you won’t know because you aren’t directly affected by mental illness or addiction. Yes, I have co-occurring disorders. Any time I am hospitalized, I am in a specific section separate from the majority of patients. My thought processes are quite different from others. My alcoholism convinces my mind that it is ok to injest toxins at a lethal level. It goes further than convincing as I crave. With three years sobriety, these cravings have subsided but that doesn’t mean the occasional urge doesn’t slip its way through.

My mind plays tricks on me. At times I am certain I am not bipolar and that I do not need medication. Other times I know that I am and I accept it. The friction that is caused by the addictive part of my brain and the chemical off balance of bipolar, creates havoc somedays. There are bad days and then worse days. The worst days usually follow many bad days in a row. The worst days leave me bedridden. The time since my last episode of worst days is significant in my recovery. I haven’t been hospitalized since 2013, a whopping five years. For two of those years, I was still in active addiction causing days of darkness. Those days haven’t happened since I surrendered. I have had rough and depressed days but no bedridden ones. (Knock on wood)

I can only imagine what it is like to have a fully functional brain or one that doesn’t play tricks on me. The reality is that I never will and am forever in debt to an imbalance that does as it pleases. I keep waiting for the day that I crash, again. It is inevitable. I am hopeful that the medication will continue working, keeping me stable and functional. It has only been a year since I agreed to take medication for bipolar disorder and a year and a half since my diagnosis.

The ironic part is that when I am sick, I do not realize it. When you have lived more of your life unmedicated than medicated, you learn ways of coping. Not all are the healthiest but coping nonetheless. The weight gain, days in bed and crazy mood swings try desperately to signal me of something wrong. I don’t listen. I eat. I sleep. I cry. I laugh. I get mad. I sleep.

Living with many mental illnesses can be disabling. It is an invisible attack that no one sees coming. Nor do they feel its damage. It is unexplainable and frustrating. It is difficult. While my diagnoses do not define me, they do affect me. Altering my thought process to extremes at times, resulting in bizarre behavior. Uncontrollable behavior.

At almost 40 years old I choose to remain positive and aware when dealing with my mental illnesses. I approach each day with a new outlook. Although I am not curable, I am hopeful. If you or someone you love are struggling to accept depression, bipolarity, or any other mental illness, keep in mind that there will be better days. The two best solutions I have to offer are educate yourself and seek professional assistance. Discussing your symptoms makes it easier to cope. You are not alone.

Hey Ya’ll!

I would politely like to introduce myself.

I am ‘Eve’

The author behind Revenge of Eve. James has done a feature interview on me that he recently reposted. So you may be familiar with my story.

For my followers that follow James, heyyy!

James has lent me his platform to share my story and my experiences, in my words. That is so kind of him.

For those that don’t know about me, all 5,123 …. Lol, I don’t know exactly how many, of you, I am Candace. I am an alcoholic in recovery; 3 years and 2 months sober, a bartender 😉 and the mother to one amazing teenage daughter. I am a “Southern girl”.

I, like the rest of the peeps here, have a plethora of diagnosis and it is my mission to #speakup!

I am bipolar, with anxiety and mild OCD. Oh … And an alcoholic, making me have co-occurring disorders. My disorders don’t define me but they have been known to get in my way.

I write about life as I know it.

My life.

I am passionate about writing and mental wellness and about stationery. I have recently started the journey of wanting to start a creative business and blog about that on a website separate of R.O.E.

If you are interested in real life writing, I invite you to read, interact and #speakup! (Comment).

I am, as they say, an open book.

I make myself readily available for anyone who is struggling or just needs to talk. You can contact me via email on any three of the blogs I am associated with.

So if any of this sounds good to you, we’ll be chat’n soon.

Always & forever,

Candace