Individuals with Bipolar have problems with money. It is a fact. It is not something I have ever been proud of and something I have struggled with for years. I have made remarkable progress when it comes to spending money, however, I am still under my husband’s microscope when it comes to any spending.

After our bankruptcy, we made dramatic (possibly extreme) changes to our spending habits. Our budget was squeezed, our money distributed to different accounts to attempt to find some type of financial stability. It has worked so far.

Well, early last year my husband expressed to me (after taking all the money away) that if I wanted extra money to spend, to start blogging or keep a child at our home for extra cash. I did, and he did not hold up his end of the deal.

Now, my “extra cash” has to go into the main pot for our household needs. I’ve never really griped about it because I still have enough to do little things for myself like an occasional pedicure, a nice haircut, Starbucks, etc. It has been something I have adjusted to, and that is okay with me.

But, we have a new problem.

I’ve had a very hard week. When I say very hard, I mean harder than I have had in a long time. I don’t even know where to begin.

I already posted about my son’s most recent evaluation for services relating to Autism. That was incredibly difficult and something I am still struggling with. It will take time to adjust and accept everything, but I am working on it.

On top of that stress, my kids have been pretty impossible. We are down to the last two weeks of school and they are going batty. My daughter has been crying for 30 minutes every morning before school which really pounces on my nerves, especially because I am not a morning person.

The kids also stay up late at night goofing off and playing in their room, coming downstairs constantly and not listening. It’s challenging. With my husband being on 3rd shift, I am left with bedtime duty every night after 8:00PM because he goes to sleep. I’m not complaining, well okay whatever, yes I am. I am irritated.

At almost three years old he is so sweet. He is lovable, so full of hugs and kisses. He laughs, plays, jumps, dances and loves life. He is a very happy little boy.

I was certain prior to his most recent evaluation that he had grown by leaps and bounds. A small part of me hoped he had “outgrown” Autism, and the news would be wonderful. I see so much progress in him every day - doing new things and saying new words.  So when the evaluation concluded I was devastated to find he hadn’t grown as much as I had anticipated. Shame on me.

At 18 months old he was only developed to about 5 months in all areas except gross motor skills. Hearing the word “Autism” broke my heart and sent me in a tailspin. I cried for days. My husband did a great job at defining how “different” he is, and how that makes him special. I tried to accept it and worked with him very hard over the past year to teach him and help him grow. It did pay off; he has surpassed his age in two areas. His visual testing soared up to where a four year old should be. Oh I was so proud!

However, his social and language are still severely delayed, at the bottom of the scoring scale. If the score could have been lower, it would have.

I was laying in bed last night in my perfect comfy spot. Suddenly, my body started to become numb and I felt as though my mind was separating from my body. I could feel my heart start to race and I broke out into a sweat; the panic set in quickly. I tried to move and I couldn’t, yet I was wide awake. I thought I was dying.

My son began to cry and it yanked me out of whatever it was I was experiencing.

I got up to see what was wrong and my body still had this eerie feeling of discontent. I was shaking, sweating and very hot. I was terrified walking through the house, hearing noises, seeing shadows, swearing someone was inside my home.

This came out of nowhere. It was sudden and incredibly intense. I was so scared that I couldn’t leave my son’s room. I began pacing back and forth at the door, too scared to leave to get the meds I knew would help me calm down. I stood there for at least 15 minutes before I got the courage to leave his room. I picked him up and carried him with me – I felt comfortable with him in my arms.

My heart was racing so fast I could feel it beating in every part of my body.

We have stuff everywhere. My husband is a major (and I mean MAJOR!) pack-rat. He is like, on the fence between pack-rat and hoarder. Well, if there is even a fence there.

He keeps everything, anything, pointless and needless items, they are everywhere! He also doesn’t keep them neat and tidy in boxes stacked somewhere. No, he just throws stuff everywhere with the hope that I will clean it. I will not. I refuse. No way, no how! Uh, uh. Not happening buddy!

So we have a dilemma now. What to do, what to do?

My husband has previously gotten us into a terrible mouse-mess because of his boxing up and storing crap. Mind you, when I say crap, I mean JUNK!

Okay, I know for many people that sex can be a majorly taboo subject, but I am going to talk about it anyway. Many people wonder and don’t understand how hyper-sexuality can affect relationships so I am going to try to discuss my own experiences when my bipolar takes a hyper-sexual swing.

By definition, hyper-sexuality is basically an increased need for sex. If you Google it, the very basic dictionary definition is easy to find, but finding a personal experience is much harder. I would like to talk a little bit about how this little pleasant episode can affect me.

Overall, every partnership needs a healthy sexual relationship. It is how we connect to the one we love on levels no one else can ever connect or relate to. It is for creating life, bonds and of course, pleasure. However, when you throw a little bipolar in the mix it can rage like a tornado and settle as quickly, leaving a path of destruction.

I was visiting a friend this week who told me that her live-in boyfriend was talking frequently with an ex-girlfriend. I was immediately overwhelmed with sadness and a little bit of shame remembering when I was “that girl.”

I tried to explain to her that he is with her and nothing was going to change that. Regardless, her pain was still quite visible. I was hurting deeply for her.

That moment got me thinking about when I was “the other woman” a few times in my past. I guess I should share some of that with my readers. It was about 11 years ago when I was much (much!) younger and not even remotely close to receiving any sort of diagnoses.

First, let’s talk about how this period of my life started.

I have been through the terrible two’s three times already. All of my kids were actually pretty good. They would throw the occasional temper tantrum and be little snot monsters on occasion, but overall my kids were awesome toddlers. I always counted my blessings; I figured maybe if I did a good enough job and tried to be as patient as possible they would learn patience too. They did, but it didn’t last too long.

Anyway, I could rant all day about how nuts my lovely older children can make me, but this isn’t about them. It’s about the youngest of the bunch. He has a bad case of the terrible two’s that could put all three of my children combined to shame. I don’t know what to do.

He will be three in September. He is starting to have his own opinions, ideas and attitude. It is not meshing very well with the Autism. The biggest barrier we have is communication. We can work through his other problems without much trouble, but the communication is really getting to be a major issue.

When we try to talk to him he doesn’t always get what we are saying. He frequently disregards what we say or just doesn’t listen and then we end up having these huge meltdowns. It has gotten so bad that I have my sister-in-law watch him two days a week now, so that I can run my errands.

I am great at getting organized. I can create a system to keep everything where it is supposed to be and it would work great – if only I could keep up with it. My mind often gets so chaotic that even though I know where things are supposed to be, it seems daunting to put everything where it belongs.

I have decided to hire help, a professional organizer.

She isn’t someone who will come in and create a system for me that works. I don’t need help in that area because I can do a great job on my own, not to mention I get irritated at the mess when other people touch my stuff. I need help on the mental side, and she knows exactly what I am talking about when I try to explain it to her. It’s almost weird how well she can relate to the chaos in my head.

It is almost like ADHD, but not. I know how things need to be and I know how I want everything. I do, however, have a house full of tyrants who like to misplace everything. When others start messing stuff up, I just kind of say “screw it” and throw my hands up, watching my hours upon hours of cleaning, organizing and straightening come undone in a day.