Gossip, nicknames and stability

I think the verdict from my previous post is: (dun dun dun) He was getting a cold and his body was trying to fight it off. Phew. Didn't see anymore signs of depression. Thank goodness.

Another fun day with Chase. I am in awe of each and every stable moment. Which means I'm standing there with my mouth hung open looking like an idiot a lot. Chase is helpful, patient, silly, reasonable, hyper, friendly and one of the best judges of his stability is that he is PLAYING with Aimee. When he's cycling, Aimee can't even look at him without Chase getting irritated. Today they spent hours playing together. I think the nasty bipolar bug that takes over our lives is hiding outside. Stay there.

As far as everything else, I'm really struggling with my own personal issues. I know this blog is about Chase but its also the only real therapy I get (besides Howie the dog.)

Work is really hard. The "inmates" are irritating but they are the least of my worries there. I can DO my job and don't get stressed over it anymore. But coworkers can be so mean and hurtful. I keep having coworkers asking me if I'm pregnant. They know d*&med well that I'm not. They also spend so much time judging others that I give up on really feeling comfortable with them. According to the gossip from my coworkers since my divorce, I will have sex with any guys I work with. And I do it at work according to the gossip. Only one word comes to mind: Ewww. I try to remember that people just gossip because they are bored, but I do take it personal. And coworkers even gossip to the inmates about me. I am so far from being the person they think I am. But they are just lame, and I know who I am.

I'm also worried because I continue to gain weight and there is no reason that I can think of. And with a recovering anorexic, that really screws with my head.

I keep finding myself with my phone in my hand to call my dad. He's been gone nearly 6 months and I still do it. Tonight while tucking Chase into bed, I realized that all the nicknames my dad called me, I call Chase. Never noticed. "Punkin. Kiddo. Sleepyhead." I can still smell him remember the feel of his skin. I can still remember his voice and the good advice he always gave. I remember his pet peeves and his short temper. I remember going to work with him and him being patient while I asked a million questions. I am so lucky to have those memories. I can only hope to be half the parent that my dad was to me.

I really appreciate everyone's comments on my blog. I love that my words can bring comfort or acceptance to anyone. All the mom's that have bipolar children are courageous and admirable. I think we are all chosen to raise these special children.

That's it for now folks. Its a teensy bit past my bedtime.