Hog Snorts

Response

2011-08-26T22:13:00.003-05:00

I know many people sympathize with the non-bipolar person. Sometimes people are such good writers you forget the truth. I mean, if you only hear something from one side, you have not even CLOSE to have heard the truth.

An example was used from a bi-polar person I'll bet is doing well. Well, what he had to say was bullshit. He NEVER talked to me, therefore they don't know the truth.

Some people are very good writers, and therefore greatly influence people. That means you maybe, just maybe have been influenced by lies.

If you want to know the truth, talk to me.

Trying new things

2011-07-01T16:25:00.002-05:00

Apparently when you do everything around the house and property but forget and don't tell your spouse who is unaware of all that has been going on about the house, property and life, that you have been taking care of faithfully, some things you have done. You have done a wrong thing.

Truths

2011-06-27T19:12:00.003-05:00

Once you are diagnosed Bi Polar, no one ever will believe you. Even if you are telling the truth. So, why try. You can begin again. It may take a million tries, but you can do it.

I recently tried to confide in someone. But, they were lied to, and since it was about me, they believed the lies.

Will anyone ever believe you?

Why try?

Worrying for my baby...

2006-09-30T22:35:00.000-05:00

My wife, Belinda/Ninjapoodle, has had quite a serious surgery lately and that plus all the time and worry leading up to this event has kept me from posting as I know I should.

There have also been some very life changing events in my life that I will share soon with whatever reader I have left. This post will come soon.

I have been Guest Posting over on my wife's site. Here are a couple of those, Surgery Day!, and Post Surgery - Day Two!

I miss you all and will be back and sharing in no time.

Go Hogs!! Beat Auburn!!

To My Beloved

2006-09-01T18:53:00.000-05:00

Belinda,

It's been a hard road, hasn't it, honey? But, you know I will walk with you every step down this path of life. In sickness, and in health, pain or no pain; whatever troubles our family may face. You have always been there for me. Now, it's only fair that I be there for you in your time of need.

I do remember the pain free times, like that time we spent down in New Orleans just before your good surgery. I will never forget those few days. We hit all the wonderful restaurants: NOLA, K-Paul's, the Cafe Du Monde, Gumbo Shop, Central Grocery, and all the little N.O. musts. I do believe that it was on that trip that I became positive that I wanted to be with you forever. Even if the disease that was killing you might just cut that time short, or that we'd never have any children. I remember the walk in the French Market where I bought you a cheap little stone ring and before your surgery, and gave it to you as my promise that I would always be there, no matter the outcome. I remember these times just as I remember the times you hurt so bad you couldn't get out of bed for what seemed like weeks on end, because the pain was so severe. I want you to know that there was always a constant, I loved you. I stood by you then, and of course I will stand by you now.

We have seen some real doozies of some doctors, haven't we, darling? I think the greatest incompetency, and then proof of God's miracles, was when one doctor told us that it was not only not likely, but there was just no hope of having children. With one sputtering ovary and a bleak outlook, we beat those odds then, didn't we? God smiled on us then when he gave us Isabella, and he will soon smile on us again soon when he heals you from this misery. He gave us the greatest gift I could have ever asked for. A child that looks so much like me and has all your wit, intelligence and sweetness. Sweetheart, I know how much you love me, and you have given me my only known blood relative. I mean, out there somewhere, I know I might have a brother or sister, or even a mother or father. But it was you that made me a daddy. Being a daddy and your husband, my sweet, I have found, is all I have ever wanted to be.

Your pain will be over soon, my sweet. It will be over soon.

Our lives 'til this point have not been easy. God knows, you have had to deal with my health problems, and me being well.....generally crazy at times. And you have done so with the patience of a saint. I think you know what I mean when I say that you saved me. Belinda, you saved my life in so many ways. I could never repay you. I owe you so much.

Your surgery is coming, and I know it seems so far away. But, we can make it, together. I will help you. And afterwards you know I will do whatever it takes to help you comfortably heal. I am having chocolate trucked in, already practicing making your favorite chicken and dumplings and I have Ben and Jerry on speed-dial.

We still have a long road to travel. We have a life to live together.

We will find a way, Belinda. And this time, it will be, hopefully, pain-free.

How Hot IS It?

2006-08-24T23:21:00.000-05:00

Well, in Arkansas, it's so hot that our normally nice and polite Little Rock Zoo chimpanzees, in an obvious attempt to call even more media attention to the problem of Global Warming, are resorting to "gorilla tactics (HAR! HAR, HAR! Get it? Guerilla? GORILLA? Come onnnnn!) and knocking out documentary filmmakers with large rocks.

Extra, Extra, Read all about it...

2006-08-16T19:33:00.000-05:00

If any of you have been wondering how I have been doing the past few days, well,... so-so. I have been a bit down lately, and the pdoc has me on new meds so who knows, any day now I may be back on top.

Anyway, I just wanted you all to know that I have been keeping up with the world and especially the local news even though I have been feeling down.

Now, just because we live in Arkansas and in a rural area does not mean we don't have hard-hitting journalism. Why, I ran across this little gem, just the other day in the in the local paper.

Click image to Enlarge

Enter at your own risk.

2006-08-08T15:51:00.000-05:00

If anyone has come to my site via my wife's, then they may have a little insight into me and my illness. My mental illness. Ooooh, the cliche already stirs images, doesn't it? I have bipolar disorder (more images) and by now being managed through more numerous medications than I care to go into, it is for the most part beaten into submission. I am not sure submission is the correct word here, for it is always lying just below the surface, and if you ever let up on it for a moment--just a moment--your life will change. Maybe in just a small way like not saying "Hi" to everyone at work, to having a complete out of order yelling exchange with your spouse for......well, anything.

Bipolar disorder is a hideous Beast. That is the term by which I shall now refer to it in this post. It is a low-down insidious Beast with no care for the lives it touches and the destruction it leaves in its wake. It has many faces and is arguably one of the toughest mental illnesses to diagnose. The statistic, I believe, is that it takes nearly 8 to 10 years from first symptom to 'achieve a definitive' diagnosis. If there is such a thing. My diagnosis took approximately 25 years. Why? Incompetent doctors? Uncaring doctors? I believe it was mostly the old cliche of only going to see the doctor when I was at the bottom end of a cycle, the depressive mode. You get massive scripts for anti-depressants, which anyone in the know can tell you only worsens the condition by eliminating the lows and bringing you back to the (oh-so-glorious??) mania. But, oh, I have seen my share of quacks. I mean pure, pill-pushing, not-giving-a-shit-but-to-collect-their -insurance quacks. Some, more than one in my opinion, were in worse shape than I when I walked in their tiny litte exam rooms and listened to their hurried hushed tones, barely audible above the ambient noise machine used in a lot of offices to "make your conversations more private."

Now, depending upon the severity of the Beast, there are at least irrational behaviors that may and sometimes do appear as the disease progresses, and there are disgusting and sometimes unforgivable behaviors, let's say scars, which the Beast leaves upon our lives and upon the people in our lives. I have plenty of these. Some great, some small. Some which people will never know about. Some which I am greatly proud to have overcome, and some I wish and pray to God that never happened, because their scars are so deep in my soul as to never be erased. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Then, thank you Beast. Thank you Beast? Never.

I wasn't the complete "as seen on 'Cops'" bipolar patient. Oh, I did have my run-ins with local law enforcement. I did as the vast majority of bipolar patients do in their manic phases: try to self-medicate. Oh, at the time these were considered the 'good times.' The good times. How utterly ironic. And you know what? A lot of them were. At those times the Beast had me believing they really were. Looking back, that was so sad, but true. I had been hospitalized a few times, and I did get a couple of DWI's. Then the good times got worse at an alarmingly fast rate. I drank even more, my spending was out of control, I was unkind to the opposite sex, and used a variety drugs to help extend these periods of mania. I mean, who wouldn't want to feel on top of the world? At least for fifteen minutes?

God watched over me at these times. I know he did. Many times I could have been arrested. But, with "luck," I wasn't.

I finally found a program that helped me with the drug and alcohol problems that had decided to hitch a ride on this adventure that was my life with the Beast. This last time has been the the one that really opened my eyes, and I have been clean and sober for 28 months. Truthfully, I think my proper diagnosis and treatment of the Beast has been what has kept me sober. It was my desire for maintaining mania that led to my drug use. I really believe that, but will never test that theory. I occasionally think I could handle a drink. But, I won't have one. I've been through too much.

Nutshell, to today...bipolar disorder sucks! It STOLE 25 years of my life! I served a prison term of unrealized goals, failed relationships, lost friends, and there are things I can never, ever get back. I have an IQ of 141, yet I will never finish my college degree because of this damn BEAST. I have accumulated nearly 160 hours of credits that add up to nothing. Nothing. That is one thing that haunts me till this day. I know there are programs that might help me with this goal. But, it will probably never happen.

I have the most intelligent, beautiful woman I have ever met for a wife. I have the most beautiful daughter in the whole world. I am sorry all you other readers, but I do. I was an adopted child so she is the only blood relative I have on this Earth and I ADORE her. No father could love his child more. Sorry again all you parent readers. Good Lord, she looks just like me.I have to believe that is God in his infinite wisdom showing me that I do get a second chance. with her, and with MY life.

There are things that still hurt me and hurt every struggling person with this Beast. One of the worst is dealing with your family, friends, and just generally people who are ignorant of the Beast. Properly medicated we are just as normal and healthy as anyone else on this Earth. These innocently ignorant people see the properly medicated bipolar, and think "See, they can do it if they would only just try!" They say the most hurtful things imaginable:. "You are only doing this because you can get away with it." God, that hurts. Or, "It's only a matter of will-power." It is very true that some allowances will have to be made for a bipolar person. Sometimes, we just can't cope. This will create strife and we can't help it, even in a healthy bipolar. There are times of year that are just "bad."

Would you blame a severe diabetic for needing insulin or an epileptic for requiring anti-convulsants for seizures? Would you get just too tired of helping your brother out of the house if he had a heart disease and became too bothersome?

Give those of us who deal with the Beast the credit we deserve. We fight battles that many of you will never know. The rest of you will never know the pain it causes us when we do something that hurts you. And please never, ever discount us because of a disease.

That's all I have.

And now.....the 'Tater

2006-08-01T21:00:00.000-05:00

Painted in my beloved Arkansas Razorback red.

Six feet of spud-'splodin splendor!

This baby was customized with several deluxe features, like a beveled barrel for coring the spuds as they are loaded; creating a much better seal between the cored potato and the gun. More bang and distance. Which, by the way was calculated over numerous shots to be approximately 1,000 to 1,300 feet.

For consistency in the firing mechanism, I used a small stun gun. I had tried a gas-grill ignition lighter but it was very inconsistent. Then--a stroke of genius--the stun gun. Fires every time. Prides itself on that fact, even. This provided the perfect ignitor.

I will be adding a new handle to compliment the position of the stun gun to create greater aiming capability. If I had only purchased one of the RIFLED PVC GUN BARRELLS I saw for sale online for a 50 % increase in accuracy and distance could be increased dramatically.

My Baby.

2006-07-19T09:42:00.000-05:00

How To Break Daddy's Heart In One Easy Step

2006-05-11T20:40:00.000-05:00

Miniature Wedding Dress For Flowergirl Daughter.

All I Ever Wanted to Be

2006-05-10T23:51:00.000-05:00

Tonight, snug as bugs in a rug , Belinda and I lay in bed with Bella lying in between us in the hour or so before bedtime. It was in that sleepy time for us, that Bella snuggled up to her "big, strong" daddy as she calls me. Her little body up against mine, face staring at me and her arm draped across me. I guess she had been staring for some time when I hear, "Daddy, I love you sooooo much." Huge smile across her face. Not so much says it, as coos it. It was at that time that I was struck, really struck, as I have been many times before, I am a Daddy, and it's the best thing I have ever done and all I ever wanted to be.

Happy Birthday To Me!

2006-03-12T15:18:00.000-06:00

If you are coming here from Belinda'a blog, you may know that I turned 39 today. I have received many well wishes, so I wanted to give something back. Here is my gift to you, Internets. I recommend the following:

Appetizer: "Cowboy Leg Beautiful Pole"

Main Course: "Salty Egg King Steams The Vegetable Sponge"

And be sure to save room for dessert, because there is "Double-Boiled Forest Frog."

And read the comments. Bon Apetit'.

My Side Of The Pillow

2006-03-09T23:32:00.000-06:00

After regaling me with the sorrowful tale of my dream-death and the pursuant dream-reminiscing, my wife gets up out of bed to take some Zyrtec-D, leaving behind...a credit card.

I said, "Why was there a credit card under your butt?"

And she said, "Because it fell out of my pajama pocket." (pause) "I needed it for the hotel, OK?"

ALL of the crazy does not reside on my side of this marital street, folks. And don't think I won't be checking the next statement just to see what kind of purchases her butt rang up.

Snortin' Fartin' Hog - UNMASKED

2006-02-19T16:19:00.000-06:00

I guess it is about time I explained the title and URL of my blog. First of all, I must explain that Arkansans are sports fanatics, in a state where there are no professional sports teams and the only Division I college teams that we have on which to hang our collective hat are those of the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville, where my wife and I both attended college.

My father graduated from the U of A back in the 1950s, and being a small town boy who fought his way into college, and then found his way into a fraternity and eventually became president of that fraternity, my father was indeed a proud alumnus of the University of Arkansas, and a fierce devotee of the Razorbacks, and passed that love on to me at an early age. I remember him teaching me the 'Razorback Fight Song' before I could read, and I knew all the words to most of his fraternity's songs before I was a teenager. So, it naturally followed that I would attend the U of A as well.

When my time to enter college came around, it was the mid 1980's, and the football team was enjoying a bit of a resurgence and was at that time still a member of the now-defunct Southwest Conference. As anyone who attended a southern university knows, football was, and is, the lifeblood of collegiate sports down here and, well, embodies the spirit of the school as a whole. But even with its rally in the 1980's, it was and still is a far cry from the glory of the U of A's National Chamionship year of 1964.

Basketball had its own resurgence in the 1990's. The winning ways were brought back to the University by a visionary coach, Nolan Richardson. He was new, he was brash, he was unconventional, and he had a huge chip on his shoulder. The perfect makings for a great coach. In 1991 the U of A joined the SouthEastern Conference, the SEC, and over the next decade had the most successful winning percentage of any Division I Basketball team in that decade, including a National Championship in 1994, and a National Chamionship Runner-up in 1995. All good things must come to an end, and Nolan was abruptly fired after a controversial spate of outspokenness on his part regarding the athletic director. But, not until changing the enitre face of college basketball as we now know it.

Richardson's arch-nemesis in the SEC was the University of Kentucky and its coach Rick Patino. Patino was and is great in his own right, but when Nolan entered the SEC, Patino no longer was the golden boy. Over the next 10 years or so Arkansas was the ONLY Southeasten Conference team to have a winning record over Kentucky. AND, after the first few years of playing Nolan, you could see Patino's style try to change to match Nolan's '40 Minutes of Hell' style defense and 'huevos' style of offense. You will see, to this day, a variation of that offense played by the majority of college basketball teams accross the country. Richardson was an innovator and went the way of many innovators and people we don't understand, with a chips on their shoulders: into anonymity.

Now, how did I become Snortin' Fartin' Hog? Well, Belinda's dad was a Razorback. And when I say that I mean that he played basketball for the University of Arkansas in the late 1950's. In fact, my wife reminds me, he played starting forward on the FIRST Razorback basketball team to ever win a Conference (at that time Southwest Conference) championship. He wore that ring until the letters were barely visible, then wore it still. He was, needless to say, a huge Razorback fan, and he and I had much fun trying to show each other who could find the most outrageous accoutrement of Hog fandom.

As some of you know out there, Universities will change their athletic logos every few years, just so you can't feel comfortable with what you have already bought, and will need to buy more. Anyway, Belinda's father had several car magnets for his truck portraying a galloping Hog, blowing hot breath from his nostrils and leaving a trail of dust behind. I just had to have some. So, I went out and bought some magnets for my truck. But, when I got home, lo and behold, my magnetic Hogs were the new logo.

"Heh heh heh," he chuckled. He loved it. "Bet you wish you had some of those snortin', fartin' hogs like I've got, don'tcha? They don't make 'em like that anymore." But through perseverence, I did find some, and with the acquisition of my very own "snortin', fartin' hogs," became a true son-in-law.

I loved that man not only as the father-law that he was, but as the friend and role model he became.

I have had two men, my father and Belinda's father who have both made indelible impacts on my life in many ways. Both of them are gone now. Not too many years apart. I can just see them up there in Heaven now looking down on my little family: me, Belinda and Bella and seeing how well we are doing. They can see how all that they taught us is helping us to be a happy family.

Every time I watch the Hogs play I can just imagine them up there there in Heaven together cheering.

Those men were Razorback fans.

Daddy and Bella

Bella and Mommy

The Manly Dunce

2006-02-17T21:10:00.000-06:00

From Sweetney. For the boobalicious version, see here.

Objects in photo may be larger than they appear.

I Love my wife

2006-02-16T00:07:00.000-06:00

Yep, I love her.

I ain't afraid of no ghost.

2006-02-10T21:21:00.000-06:00

Did I tell you we bought a beautiful new house? A really big new house? A really big new house in the woods? This house is scary. There is ghostses. I don't see no ghostses, and I don't hear no ghostses. But, they be there. That's what makes them sooo scary. My wife, Belinda, says I'm crazy for saying there are ghosts in this house. But, then she SAW, oh, yes, she SAW, the little baby ghost finger prints in the paint on a wall in a room I was painting. She saw, yet did not believe. Thats why I believe that when they attack they will come for her first. That was of some comfort, but then I realized I would be the one having to explain to little Bella that Mommy got taken by the ghosts because she did not believe when she saw the little baby ghostie finger prints.
Oh, and did I mention the Amityville Horror hearthroom? Big ole brick fireplace and hearth, complete with the squinty window-eyes on either side peering at you with evil squinty ghost- house intelligence. It is my theory that the only thing holding back the full evil squinty ghost- house force is the fact that that room is painted a ghost-inhibiting pea soup green (you know, the kind that Linda Blair puked in The Exorcist). And now, oh yes, and now, it is my wife's decision to paint that wall a much more ghost-friendly RED. Dried-sacrificial-blood red. All the better to eat you with, my pretties! Aaarrrrggghhhh!
can't find my Depakote, runnin low on Klonopin, make Alex ghost-filled brain, feel like a-stompin..........
can't find my Depakote, runnin low on Klonopin, make Alex ghost-filled brain, feel like a-stompin..........
can't find my Depakote, runnin low on Klonopin, make Alex ghost-filled brain, feel like a-stompin..........
can't find my Depakote, runnin low on Klonopin, make Alex ghost-filled brain, feel like a-stompin..........
can't find my Depakote, runnin low on Klonopin, make Alex ghost-filled brain, feel like a-stompin..........

What was that noise?

Weeper Meme, and First Post

2006-02-08T00:10:00.000-06:00

Well, maybe ONE tear for me. Tagged by Belinda. My wife. That's right.

Technorati Profile