The day Carrie Fisher saved my life

As I've stated here before, I am Bipolar I & I have Season Affective Disorder. This time of year is always a challenge for me, as I tend to veer a little to the manic in early spring. "March Madness" is an accurate moniker. "Mad as a March hare" also applies here. So, it always a crap-shoot as to just how my mania will manifest each spring. Good times.

Anyway, I wasn't aware of this fact for what feels like a very long time indeed. I was married at the time, and was working in a job environment that was toxic to my spirit. I didn't know why I was so sad most of the time, especially since I had everything I "wanted" at the time.

One day I signed up to go along with another women in my office to a Working Women's fair at a local hotel. I neither knew nor cared what the fair involved, I was just glad to get out of the office for that day. Carrie Fisher was the keynote speaker.

Who doesn't love Carrie Fisher? Apparently, no chica my age, because the poor woman was mobbed by adoring throngs of young women praising her as a role-model for women's empowerment in the Star Wars trilogy. You could tell by her expression that she thought they were all insane. I liked her right away.

Being a literary sort I had read several of Ms. Fisher's books, starting with Postcards From the Edge. I had devoured her work, identifying with many of her zany characters. When it came my turn to have a little face time with her I mentioned how much I loved her writing. She cocked an eyebrow at me, "You look a little young to have read my books." (I was 22) "Oh, no, Ms. Fisher! I've read almost all of them, and I think they're great!" And that was that. Into the hotel meeting hall I went with my co-worker, eager to hear Carrie Fisher's witty monologue.

When Carrie stepped up to the podium I didn't know what I was expecting to hear about. Maybe some comedy (she's a very witty lady) or some dish about her notorious family tree. There were plenty of both of those things, sure. But what was amazing about her talk that day was how she opened up to the audience, with warmth, humor, and a few tears, about living with Bipolar disorder.

Midway through her talk I was nearly in tears. My coworker asked what was wrong with me. I answered her, "I think I have Bipolar disorder." It was like Ms. Fisher had held a mirror up to my face with her speech. I recognized the painful lows, and the maddening yet scintillating highs, the monomania, the excesses, the loss of control.

The next day I scheduled an appointment with my doctor to talk about my suspicions. Soon after that I was hospitalized (in March, natch) for Bipolar disorder. I was diagnosed Bipolar I, with Season Affective Disorder. I began a long string of chemical therapy to treat my symptoms. It took years, but my doctors finally found the right chemical cocktail to keep me at an even keel.

Carrie Fisher turned much of the monologue she shared with us at that conference into an autobiography titled Wishful Drinking. She has no idea how much of a difference her words made to me. I am horribly certain that, had I not received treatment for my disorder, I would not be here today.

I was thinking about her a lot this week because of the death of her step-mother, Elizabeth Taylor. She tweeted: "If my father had to divorce my mother for anyone- I’m so grateful that it was Elizabeth."

So, thanks Carrie Fisher. You're one of my heroes, and not because you played Princess Leia.

Back to the Blogging Board

The other day I was reading my boss's blog, and enjoying it thoroughly, when I realized it hadn't been updated since July of 2009. I thought, "I should really encourage her to get back to writing in her blog" when the irony of the fact I haven't been keeping up with my own blog hit me. When I asked her about her abandoned webspace she defended herself with "Oh, I just don't have anything to write about." Which I promise you is not true. Even if the library wasn't going through a complete overhaul of our cataloging and circulation system (which we are) the day-today workings of a public library leave ample room for all manner of interesting anecdotes. I appreciated her sentiment, though. I, too, have not written recently for what I deemed lack of subject matter. I haven't done anything new/groundbreaking/vaguely interesting to anyone with Athena worship in a while, and, with the season of the Witch upon us, I've been poking around in Cochrane's letters and wishing I had the gumption to actually follow the Spiral Castle Tradition full time.

What is the Spiral Castle Tradition, you ask? Gentle reader, allow me to introduce you to a Tradition of Witchcraft in the 1734/Clan of Tubal Cain mold that Laurelei and I created whole hog from immersing ourselves in the Robert Cochrane letters and Graves' seminal The White Goddess. It is a ecstatic mystery tradition with legitimate roots in British Traditional Witchcraft. It is a three-degree initiatory tradition, although we make no claims of succession to anyone, apostolic, or otherwise. Our calendar is based on the eight festival cycle, along side a lunar calendar related to tree-months and totemic animal cycles. The central Deities of the tradition are the Red God: Tubal Cain, and two Goddesses, the White and the Black. Note 7/18/2011: We're blogging about it here.

Is anyone actually a part of this oh-so-nifty tradition? Well, sort of. I mean, if you count myself and Laurelei. I currently practice the tradition when it suits me, along with the Athenian festival calendar (when it pertains directly to Athena) and Thelemic practices including Liber Resh vel Helios and the Star Ruby (because who doesn't love using Greek in ceremonial magick?). So , yeah, my spiritual practices have been very *ahem* eclectic as of late. This is in addition to my loose studies in Goddess/feminist spirituality such as the Women's Goddess Retreat. I just can't seem to focus on one thing, which is probably why, although I am filled with good intentions to mentor to the local occult community, the student have thus far not appeared.

I have grand plans for all of these irons in the fire. I've started three different books, but none of them are anywhere near completion. The first, Under Her Aegis, is my attempt at a guide to the modern worship of Athena. The next is an untitled book on Thelemic Witchcraft. I can hear you laughing, but really, Gardnerian Wicca owes a huge debt to Crowley, and the promulgation of Thelema in the New Aeon has found its most vital medium in NeoPaganism. The systems compliment each other very well. The third work is a monstrosity I fear I will never finish. It is my attempt to distill my collected knowledge of Witchcraft into a single book. I see it as my Great Work, and, because of that, I wonder if it is even meant to be completed. It is more than a simple Book of Shadows. On my best days I see it as a greatly expanded volume in the spirit of Huson's classic Mastering Witchcraft.

All of this, and I still intend to go back to library school. I have always had lofty aspirations -- a good trait in an occultist.

Life is not all coven-planning and writing the next great treatise on Witchcraft. I fret over seeing my family for Thanksgiving later this week. I worry about our Yuletide gift-giving budget. I go to work happily and hope that the forthcoming new catalog and circulation system will run well and smoothly.

And, hopefully, I continue to blog. :)