SENT ITEMS
9/22/06
So here is where it started. When life began to unravel and descend into madness. An email message sent a year ago today, on 9/22/05, after two consecutive nights of not sleeping and a frenzied week of activities to assist with Hurricane Katrina. My vision to help rebuild New Orleans' schools was grandiose, but were not the cause for concern. But then came the red flag that something was terribly off, quite literally, in my brain. I have edited some of names and places in the email. And yes, I really did send it to all those people...

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FROM: Me (Dr. L)
TO: My sister, several colleagues, a professor at a prestigious university, two principals of schools, a few close friends, a former colleague in London, a state congresswoman, a lawyer, my boss -- all kinds of people in my address book.
DATE: Thu, 22 Sep 2005 06:20:31 -0700
SUBJECT: For those of you who are wondering what the fuck is going on...

Dear Students of E's Advisory at MW High School Across the Bay:

Thank you for letting me sit and talk and share with you my history and learn about your own passions and experience and questions and to talk about the Hurricane. I learned a lot from you and I hope you learned something from me. As promised, I am getting back in touch with you and others. It took me a long time to get to your school and I was questioning while all these roadblocks were put up....

If you want to help change how things are in society, you will have to ACTIVATE ALL YOUR RESOURCES SIMULTANEOUSLY AND FOCUS ON A SINGLE CAUSE, MISSION, VISION, PURPOSE, OBJECTIVE.

There is a very small window of opportunity, and even though there have been many signs, people who do know know, how to think, or have been too busy are not able to see what is happening around the world. Some people are busy, some people are distracted, most of us are just maxed out. And the ones who can really take charge are taking care of their families. They are the ones that have the habits of heart, mind, soul, sisterhood, etc... We are working mothers, and it is very hard to find the time. So we have to get up very early, like you, G who gets up every morning and takes an 1 1/2 hour journey to get to Maple Land. She is the one who told me that everyone who tries to get to MW high school gets lost, especially in Maple Land.

But you have to start asking and telling people about the differences between the east and the west. THERE ARE NO DIFFERENCES, JUST WHAT WE HAVE IN COMMON. People in power like to take DNC and distort it.

DNC = Abortion
DNC = Democratic National Convention
DNC = Divide & Conquer

We are going to rewrite the rules of engagement, laydees!

The rules of Change are "R"s == Revise, Retool, Rethink, Redesign

When it gets hard, just breathe and listen to Toni Braxton's Please, I GOTSTA BREATHE. Breathing brings rest, relaxation, and that restores your health and ability to rethink.

Back to rethink.

It is time for a series of major campaigns to be ACTIVATED around the world in DIFFERENT LANGUAGES. This can be done because it's very EZ

EZ=Easy

When it gets scary, just breathe and say HOLY SHIT.

Yep, this if holy. I was going to say fucking holy. But that combination is bad. But here is how I see things RIGHT NOW. Everything that has been given to us is about to be taken away by the POP

POP=People in Power

The people in power are not mothers. They are SWM [sorry, but this has to be said, things that people never talked about like race and religion are now going be talked about because there are people out there willing and ready and know how. I think. I hope. This is personal mantra. Say that every day, friends.

SWM= Single with male, stupid white men ==? Check out michael moore. He is trying to get to New Orleans and is being stopped 25 miles out because of the stench of death and destruction and disease. Is he OK? Mothers care. Politicians ask other questions. We ask questions from our heart and our role, etc.

This area is being patrolled by BLACKWATER ==> Ask others why are they there? Who is black water? Why is it not clean water? Where is the H20. Is it clean?

Go to your local starbucks, I love them: Look at their campaign: about ethos and clean water. Tell them to donate water. They will look at you funny. You will have to explain. Don't worry. It's weird. But you will find your voice.

We're rewriting the rules of engagement. Just remember

R are the tools of inquiry. I always get enquiry and inquiry confused. Check it out.

I told you about my name
(Initials)

I told you about my mother? Another time
MSN.
Her mother was Marina ? Is all I know. I will find out and look into the past.

Marina, Katrina, ? It's about the purification of water.

The men in power have shit on the water. They have pooped in the water. They did not bring water to the mothers and their babies died of thirst.

That is unacceptable and the mothers of the world need to know that we are not taking this crap any longer.

I met a woman today in Maple Land, I was tryiing to reFUEL, my car. I didn't need gas, actually, I needed money, but the MAN MADE ME MAD. He made me buy gas I didn't need. Oh well. I bought his stupid gas and got some extra cash out and saw a sign: JUICE APPEAL. I wish I could put the juice in my car, I thought.

Well, I'm making lemonades out of lemons, my sister in my neighborhood likes to say when I tell her I'm stressed.

There I met a lovely mother, she was so tired. We talked about how hard life is being a mother. I said, I am so glad this place is here. I told her the story about needing money, not gas, and she laughed. But now I can get some healthy juice, she said.

She said that she liked Juice Appeal because it appealed to her emotion of the day. I said, Unbelievable. What a great idea. This is amazing. I saw it there: Raspberry Rage; Cantaloupe Quencher, other combinations of fruits and ideas. (Some of you already I think I've gone off my rocker, but that's okay. You'll just

When you bring ideas to the table they are like apples. Apples hold knowledge. Eve had an Apple. We all know what happened.

Remember, we are rewriting history, ourselves. It's about perspective. This is the perspective of the mothers, and we are sick of this shit.

All the D's -- the Death, destruction, you can add it up. Sometimes Dad. Dad is an acronym.

The answer is A-Z. The path to recovery are in the letters, the ideas, the voice.

But we have been working on the basics, we can only do 3 things hold 3 ideas in our head, Anything else, working moms get sick.

Sisters look out for each other. Men compete. We're about to transform the world. We have used our senses but lost one sense. Our mind. Why do they call women hysterical? What do they give them hysterectomies. It's in the history books. The history books are in the libraries. When you go to the library you:

IK = I know.

Ike. This is scary. I know I know I see I see.

Are you seeing? Do you believe what is happening? It's all around us but something has enabled me to see. Something. A force. And all the letters behind my name.

It's in the letters. We're about to bring down the house, clean it up. Staring with the kitchen. I'm sick of this shit.

SOS = SOS. Sick of shit. Shit of luck. Watch out for L's -- lust, lions, but those things can also be good and lead to love and roars. Are you getting it now?

SOLD! = I'M IN, I'M GOOD
SOLD$ = MONEY COMING IN
SOLD ; o -- HOLY SHITI

I'M going to stop now because I sense some evil in the air.

Times are scary.

Last thing. Watch out for S's -- snakes are sneaky. I have a team of S's but they are secret. The are reading this message and completely freaked out. They couldn't think that such a thing, that our/their work was all combined. Holy shit.

I went over a bridge this morning. Talk with you girls. Saw the writing on the wall. I've been transformed. I've made the connections. It's up to you. I've got people who know the code, some with keys, some with secrets, some with $$, some with ideas, some with access

I just fired a shot around the world. It's time for revolution.
We are about to rewrite the rules and it's going to be free and all on good will. No money involved, well, except for the rich who now have to give to the poor.

One last miracle. I have managed to live and think on very little sleep. You can too. When you awaken your brain. We waste a lot energy, scratching our heads and other parts of our body trying to figure it out. There is a reason why you are scratching your head. You are trying to figure this out.

Don't. Just ACTIVATE, PRINT OUT YOUR EMAILS, AND CONNECT THE ORDERS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER AND USE THE CODE. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO DO IS IN CAPS.

YOU WILL HAVE QUESTIONS, TONS. DON'T WORRY. SOMETHINGS CANNOT BE EXPLAINED, AND SOME THINGS HAPPEN FOR A REASON.

BUT GOD IS FED UP. GOD IS PISSED OFF. GOD IS MAD THAT WE HAVE NOT TAKEN CARE OF OUR MOTHERS AND HE IS ABOUT TO PUT ONE IN CHARGE: (ME).

GO! I'LL TELL THE STORY LATER ABOUT CROSSING THE BRIDGE OVER THE WATER.

Oh, and if you are in. Email me now.

Remember the code: Snakes are all around us ready to strike and steal.

There are times in the world where missions and visions and all that stuff converge. When the path is clear and the reason why you did all the stuff you did, putting up with BS, etc, happened. I am happy to sit with you and share my own story about my name and my educational history sometime.

So, laydez, you will have either get on the bus or get off. My good friend, OL, once told me a story that made me cry and run away with shame. She told me that Toni Morrison, yes, the great author, once said. I think that if they came and took me away on the bus, my white friends would let them. Think about that. Research that. Use your habits of mind girls!

I have a few websites for you to start researching:
FHAO. I have been trying for 3 years to figure out how and why I want them in my life and now I know. They have wonderful materials for you to borrow and start teaching folks. Great stuff. When you are ready, I will hook you up. You will need to assign a person.

We're about to start a movement and it will be fun, scary, hard, tiring, people you know and love will think you are crazy, but that is what happens when you want to change the world. You have look at all the signs and then draw a conclusion. Then you must weigh the evidence. Then you must deicde what the various solutions are and what steps to take. That is the scariest part!

So let me know if you, like Rosa Parks are ready to say: TO HELL WITH THIS, I'M GETTING ON THE BUS!

If you are, let me know!

K: Get with G and J and M and brainstorm ASAP A WISH LIST TO GET MORE GIRLS SAILING AROUND THE WORLD DELIVERING MESSAGES. THIS IS HOW WE WILL USE THE SEA. WE WILL FEEL SICK AT FIRST BUT WE HAVE TO USE OUR SISTERHOOD TO HELP EACH OTHER FEEL BETTER, IT’S LIKE WHEN YOU WILL GIVE BIRTH. YOU TELL THE SECRET TO THOSE YOU TRUST, WHO CARE, WHO KNOW YOU, WHO WILL DO SOMETHING WITH THAT KNOWLEDGE. BACK TO BIDNEZZZZ. FIND OUT WHO TALKS LIKE THAT. YOU KNONW. I CAN TELL YOU IF YOU GET STUCK BUT YOU HAVE TO EMAIL ME AND IT WILL BE IN AIRPORT CODE.

TIP: CODE IS GOOD BUT WHEN YOU TALK OR SEND ANYTNING TO THE PUBLIC IT MUST BE SHARP, CLEAR, EDITED. SOMETIMES WE TALK IN CODE; OTHER TIMES WE TALK IN PUBLIC; WE TALK DIFFERENTLY IN PRIVATE AND PUBLIC SETTINGS. IT'S CALLED CODE SWITCHING. NUFSAID.

LIFE CHANGES
9/21/06
A year ago today I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Until then, it was always something that someone else had. And then it was me. It has been an incredibly painful year of life changes, of suffering and of healing, of self-realization and recovery.

I have, and am still, learning every day how to live wth, manage, and accept who I am. Before life was about taking risks, now, it is about minimizing them.

That's one of the many ways that life changed for me after September 22, 2005. I will, for the rest of my life, always tread carefully on this day and know to take extra care of myself on this month.

September, I have now learned (according to another one of my trusty doctors) is a month of tremendous change. It apparently, is the month when all the psych wards run out of beds. The changes in the weather, the shortening of the days, the start of the school year, the changes in schedules and routines, the end of the fiscal year, and the beginning of the academic calendar are stressful for most people. However, for the bipolars, September is a landmine of life triggers that can increase anxiety, cause insomnia, stir up thinking -- and, thus, September is a particularly vulnerable month for bipolar people. Some of us nosedive down into depression; the others of us skyrocket up into mania.

It makes sense. I'm not sure that knowing this would have prevented anything, but it's helpful to know (now). I do think that it is really true that sometimes we really have to learn things the hard way for life to make sense. So before this month ends, make sure to do something to take care of YOURSELF.

ONE LIFE
9/12/06
Like I was saying (yesterday), you just never know what events, big or small, will change one's life. (I mean, who knew that my life was about to take some crazy turn into the unknown? I sure didn't).

It was my sister in London who awoke and was among the first to open the email message (see, "SENT ITEMS"/Sept. 22, 2006) which made everyone sit back and wonder what the hell was happening with me. My sister called my husband -- is L okay -- and he came to my office and found me (not okay) -- wandering around in a paranoid state, ranting about an earthquake that I believed was about to hit, clutching all my strange notebooks with strange codes. He took me to the university's emergency room (telling me not to look at all signs that I pointed out as evidence that something terrible was about to happen). My poor husband, seeing me like that. Then he had the painful task of calling all the various people in my life -- my parents, my sister, and my brother. He explained (what he could) to my closest friends, colleagues, those who received The Email and his own family: L is having a severe manic episode. She is psychotic and we don't know how long she is going to be in the hospital.

It's funny (funny peculiar and funny haha) to reread the email message. It's as though a dam burst inside my strange brain, pent-up by years of stress, frustration, unfilled creativity. The dam cracked into pieces, unleashing from the deepest recesses of my mind, a flood of ideas and emotions. Katrina, and everything about it, pushed me over the edge. I knew that I had been fed up. I knew that I had wanted to do something. I wanted to make a difference. And I felt I could help save the schools. But I was the one who jumped in, headfirst, into the rushing waters and had to be rescued by family and friends. And although I know now that traumatic world events and other stressful moments can trigger an episode (manic or depressive) for bipolar people, it will always remain a question for me: What was it about Katrina and The Flood that unleashed my manic-depression? Why did it happen at this time in my life?

When I was recovering in the hospital, I could not find the words to explain -- to myself, my son, my friends, my family -- what was happening in my head. I could not bear to think about how my life was being redefined, scrutinized, changing.

One day (while I was still in the hospital) my husband brought me a CD player and some music (that I imagine he carefully screened and selected): Miles Davis, Morrisey, Brian Eno -- music that we had enjoyed together before all this happened. The music was amazingly helpful, a bandage that I could wrap around my head to soothe and heal my injured mind. For me, music is a kind of medium that can convey the depth, complexity and layers of our emotions, communicating the lives that we struggle to understand and maintain. "Sing Your Life!" Morrisey says. It was the only song that made me feel that it was okay to run and skip and smile.

I was going through all my CDs the other day, when I came across One (by U2). It was like finding a favorite childhood toy that you thought was lost or coming across a photo of a special moment that you never wanted to end. You probably have heard One. Do listen to it (again) if you can. I think you'll agree, it's a pretty amazing song.

One love, one blood, one life
You got to do what you should
One life (with each other)
Sisters. Brothers.
One life (But we're not the same)
Carry each other. Carry each other.
One (life)
One....

YOU JUST NEVER KNOW
9/11/06
I was with my son and my sister when we heard the news. We were in London. We saw the images. We frantically called those we knew in New York and could not get through. We felt disbelief, horror, confusion, helplessness. On this day, five years later, take the time to hold the ones you love (as though you will never see them again) and tell them how happy you are to have them in your life.

HOME FROM HOSPITAL
11/23/05 (as noted in my journal)
It is two weeks after spending two, almost three weeks in the hospital. Mom flew over to be here for me when I got out, adding a steady and calming presence to what could have been chaos and more tragedy. It reminds me of the time when my one and only son, O, was born. I don't know what I would have done without Mom here to help out. But only this time, I am the needy child. This time Mom is not taking care of a newborn baby, but looking at her own child with concern and love. At me, a grown up woman with a new illness. A mental illness.

Here at home I feel safer than I did at the hospital, but I still feel scared. I want to do something to burn off my creative energy. I want to get on my laptop. But that's what got me into trouble in the first place. And now everyone (Mom, husband) keeps looking at me funny. Strange looks of sympathy and puzzlement.

When I was in my manic state, I was convinced that I, "Dr. L," was the human representation of creative energy: e=mc2
One male and 2 creative "Y’s – a male “elle” -- Missy Elliot raps that. Boogie and swerve. Let me move to the left. Move twice and you will find the energy.

Go to the left! When I was manic, I was convinced that I had moved into another dimension. I believed that I held the key to understanding the intersection of rational and creative thought, of chaos and complexity theory.

I spent nearly 3 weeks thinking about this (and more) in the psychiatric intensive unit of El Camino. I thought it was funny, the name of the hospital. I was trapped in/on The Road. To where? To what? Well, I didn’t get far with my theories, or who knows what I came up, based on what notes I made. I gave my notes away to a woman who was bipolar like me, an educator and teacher like me, convinced and certain that she would safeguard them. Did I simply want to give her some ideas that could help her understand and navigate her place in the world? Who knows? Why did I give them to her? Who knows? Will I see her again? Who knows.

When I thought I “knew” everything, I wrote everything in code, trying to express relationships between ideas through numbers. (Why are we able to represent the power of numbers through equations, but haven't figured what to do to convey the meaning and strength of emotions? Why can't we quantify and measure our emotions like our body temperature?)

See how my brain works?! I would sit facing the psychiatrist with my notes explaining that I would publish them someday. She said, "Sure. Keep your notes. Keep writing. I am sure you will be famous one day."

When you are bipolar, I think you find yourself moving from east to west from south to north and back again. Picking up pieces of cool stuff -- cool ideas, neat things -- and flying back forth like a magpie at supersonic speed, building nests of understanding and trying to find meaning at each pole. Sometimes you can be very efficient and productive. You seem highly prolific and effective. But then sometimes it all unravels and you are surrounded by unfinished tasks and daunting ideas. It's like me and my performance of late at a rather presitigous university, which is why many bipolar people are probably unable to hold onto their jobs. It is really difficult for linear, rational, non-bipolar people to understand and live with. My husband, for example, is one of these people. We bipolar people look like we are chasing our tales, going off in many inexplicable directions. We're flightly, unreliable, but passionate about the things we are able to do. Unfortunately, for some bipolar people, I think when they hit a brick wall of depression, they literally tear their hair out – depressed and enraged that they cannot accomplish their goals or convey their ideas.

I am wondering how “bi” got attached to "polar" and used with "disorder." Surely there is another way to describe this rather complex condition. I think that the bipolar people who go "crazy" are probably really lost and not anchored by the support of friends and family. They are repressed by life and made to move linearly and at a maddeningly slow pace. The BPs are told, “You need to slow down.” But the world is going by too quickly. And no one seems to know how to help.

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CLOUD CUCKOOLAND
November 22, 2005

It is now nearly a month later and I feel considerably different – better, clearer, stabler. Is is the medications that are finally working? I’d like to think so. Oops. I forgot to take this morning’s medications. So I will take my Abilify at 11 am before I shoot off to the university to spin cycle.

I should have been writing while I was at El Camino – to track my emotions. Maybe I’ll list out some of the key events and people I met which will help me remember for later:

I remember Lady Diana – the high school teacher who I am still trying to find.

I remember feeling special with special powers – and others confirming that feeling. I thought and did some rather strange things, which I'll have to elaborate upon...another time.

I remember communicating with aliens, who I believe had landed outside my window.

I remember feeling outraged at any lack of compassion and the extreme confusion that many patients felt around their medications and rights.

I remember feeling very upset with my husband for not visiting me regularly, and for not being strong enough to bring my son, O.

I remember music helping a lot, and helping a lot of people including Lady Diana and other women I met. I am still in touch with the woman across the hall from me. I wonder how they all are doing.