The Thing About Semen

When I first read that semen was found effective in treating depression, I liked the idea instantly, but began to wonder how this works. It seems the studies generate more questions than answers. It’s well documented that semen contains a cocktail of chemicals including cortisol, which increases feelings of affection; estrone and oxytocin, which both elevate mood; thyrotropin-releasing hormone, a natural antidepressant; melatonin which induces sleep; and serotonin, one of the best-known antidepressant neurotransmitters. As a veteran bipolariod constantly seeking new information about organic and meds-free treatments, this information interests me a great deal. Although, it strikes me as quite amazing that this wonderfully natural concoction of mind-altering drugs is still legal and readily available to anyone who wants it. Apparently, no world governments have found a way to regulate or tax its use. Yet. However, what intrigues me the most is the actual application of semen as an antidepressant.

Being a single woman living in a tiny remote fishing village in the middle of whoop whoop South America, the availability of semen is, well … limited. I’m very happily single and not currently interested in changing the status quo even if it does mean having the cure for Bipolar Disorder within sweet-nothings whispering distance. So, I guess I could always ask a friend to lend me a hand – figuratively speaking. But then, what do I actually do with this little white splotch of happy hormones in terms of treatment for depression?

Perhaps a semen facial is the thing: a bit like a self-applied pearl necklace. A pearl mask. I could rub a good handful of it all over my face from my hairline to my chin and then lay back in the equatorial sun and let it absorb into my pores and do its magic on my mood for an hour or two. The skin is the body’s largest organ, so surely it would have some noticeable effect, wouldn’t it? How often would I have to do this? Actually, I picture this method being more of a wrinkle smoother than an antidepressant, drying quickly and shrinking my skin until I look at least ten years younger. I’m not so sure about the smell either. In my experience, semen does not have a great smell; it’s definitely a far whiff from the intoxicating scent of African violets or jasmine. Maybe I could add some essential oils before I smear it all over my face. But would that alter the chemistry, hence rendering the semen impotent as an antidepressant? I also suspect that my friend would probably get quite tired of this process long before I’m cured of Bipolar Disorder.

Even after everything I’ve read, I’m still left wondering about the extent and content of the tests that have been done during these studies. What kind of semen did they use? Okay, maybe I need to explain that question: did the semen come from men who were depressed, or from men who were not depressed? If it came from depressed men, were they on prescription meds, or not? Was it natural, organic semen? Or was it full of chemicals and toxins from a drug addict on a bad diet? Can you see where I’m going with this? What kind of semen is the best kind of antidepressant? (Or what kind of wanker do I need to be stalking?)

The published articles suggest that regular oral ingestion works well but still, a minefield of unanswered questions crowd my busy bipolaroid mind. You see, semen doesn’t taste that great. It’s salty and sometimes bitter, depending on the lifestyle, genetic makeup and diet of the semen donor. One man I knew in another lifetime ate so much fresh tropical fruit that his semen was actually sweet and tasted so good that oral ingestion was as much my pleasure as his. On recollection, those were quite happy times – maybe I just blissfully overdosed on his personal brand of mind-altering antidepressants. Since then, I haven’t had the pleasure of blowing a man who eats that many pineapples. Believe it or not, these factors do matter to me. It’s my tastebuds that will suffer – or not – before I swallow the medicine that will help lift my mood. I simply can’t imagine how swallowing the equivalent of a spoonful of seawater on a regular basis is going to make me happy.

Then, there’s the whole issue of unprotected sex. According the the studies, women who don’t use condoms display fewer depressive symptoms than those who do use condoms. So, I’d probably feel fabulous until I contracted an STD. HIV, anyone? At this stage of my natural antidepressant research, I have to admit that being a single bipolariod clearly has its downside. Of course, having a long-term partner solves this problem. Even so, there are still unanswered questions. Is it the absorption of semen through the vaginal and uterine walls that causes happiness? Or can you take it just like an injection in the um … backside? Is that particular method as effective, more effective or less effective as an antidepressant than other methods? Where are the studies that answer these questions? And what if the semen has more melatonin than oxytocin? In that case, I’d probably just be joyfully sleepy, and unaware of suffering any type of depression. Are there ways to measure the hormone levels, assuming that all men are created same-same but different? I envision in the future a bank of high-quality happy-hormone-packed antidepressant semen available for purchase specifically for the treatment of Bipolar Disorder. Is that too weird? I see rows of neat little foil packages ready for the turkey baster. Or maybe to go into the morning juice blender to mix with the oranges and bananas. Why not? Some people do that with noni juice which tastes like rotten cheese. Considering so much semen is wasted in the hands of mankind, I’m certain some kind of Save the Semen campaign in the name of global mental health is not entirely out of the question. Or … when it comes to quality semen do we actually need to be acquainted with the donor? If so, trash the whole semen bank idea. If not, we could actually be in the process of saving the world.

So then what about frozen semen? Does it have the same hormonal properties and mood lifting qualities as fresh semen? If so, can one then just turkey-baste one’s way out of depression? You see, the articles state that it’s the semen and not the sex that treats depression. And how would bipolar men benefit from this knowledge, assuming they’re just as interested as women to reduce their depression symptoms? Dried semen sold in capsule form, maybe. Then, the real trick would be to keep this idea well away from the big pharmas – where the whole new nightmare of synthetic semen begins!

My randomly insane thoughts also run to considering the personalities of the men supplying the semen that is supposed to make me feel good. Does comedian Russell Brand’s semen have some special quality that would make it better than, say, Jim Carrey’s or Spike Milligan’s semen as an antidepressant? Would bipolariod comedian Stephen Fry’s semen make another bipolaroid simultaneously laugh and cry? Would Jean-Claude Van Damme’s semen have manic-depressives leaping around like madly grinning Kung Fu Pandas? Would Dalai Lama semen make us feel calm and spiritual? I imagine Andy Behrman semen giving me electro-convulsions; I don’t know if this is good or bad. Do individual personalities have any bearing on the antidepressant qualities or hormone levels of the semen? I don’t know about you, but I’d like to know.

After much pondering and puzzling, I think my ideal semen donor would be a generally happy man who eats organic foods (and mountains of fresh pineapples), exercises regularly, is not depressed or on medications and has no criminal record. Unfortunately for me, there is no one fitting that description for thousands of miles in any direction from my house. However, I’m all for semen treatment; what a wonderful concept.

Click here to buy the book: I’m Bipolar And I Know It

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From Suicidal To Sensational

The first time anyone asked me if I was out of my mind, I was six years old. With an old towel tied around my neck, I had climbed up to the garage roof and jumped off. If Superman could do it, then so could I, right? At that tender age, I’d wanted to fly away from my life and never come back. Clearly, there was a bit more going on than a normal six year old girl should have to handle. At eleven, during an out-of-body astral-travel experience, I hovered just under the ceiling of my bedroom, deciding whether or not to re-enter my body and continue living the nightmare that encompassed my childhood. Suicidal, and completely out of my mind with rage and resentment, I came back. A few years later, I ended up out of my head in a hospital psych-ward after a thwarted suicide attempt. After that, an insane death-wish ruled my life for decades but, by some miracle, I managed to survive all the craziness. Now, I can admit that, yes, I am still out of my mind, and I don’t have any intention of going back in there any time soon.

Believe me, if you saw what was going on in there, you would give it a wide berth too. My mind is a labyrinthine combat zone filled with salivating demons and shrieking monsters armed with weapons of mass self-destruction. The scariest Ghost Train in the world is a walk in the park compared to this gallery of unspeakable abominations. Guys like Tim Burton would have a field day in there, creeping around to discover horrors even he has never imagined lurking around every corner. My damaged mind is an emotional minefield, dark and messy, hazardous and harrowing, a dangerous place to venture, even on a good day. It’s not just the bipolarity. Once you get your head around that monster, there are the goblins of childhood trauma, PTSD and OCD to contend with as well. All of them with sharpened fangs, leaping around armed with razor-tipped spears and howling so loudly that you can’t hear yourself scream. You’d be lucky to come out alive. In fact, that I am still here to tell the story is somewhat mystifying to me. I don’t really know how to explain that. Destiny?

I don’t ever remember a time between my failed Superman stunt and now when I didn’t have Bipolar Disorder: depression and mood swings, crazy thoughts and suicidal tendencies, as well as repetitive rewind-playback thoughts, absurd obsessions that never made sense, and that erratic feeling of being like a living emotional explosion just waiting for the right set of circumstances to set off my hair-trigger time bomb. My mental illness went undiagnosed for three decades as I roller-coastered along, believing the insanity was just part of the wild and uncontrollable woman I eventually became, even though I didn’t actually like her very much at all – even I thought she was nuts! Once I finally knew what I was facing, I could recognize the distinctive signs of bipolarity in every aspect of my tumultuous journey through childhood, adolescence and adulthood. Actually, it was the diagnosis itself that stopped a lot of the random craziness, like that “Oh!” moment, when you finally understand: “I’m not crazy. I have Bipolar Disorder. I have PTSD. And I’m obsessive-compulsive. Those are diseases, not personality types! I’m sick! There is treatment! Yay!”

Even so, people who don’t understand the tangled wirings of a messed up mind have a tendency to be cruel. The stigma attached to having a mental illness, however diagnosable and treatable, sticks like fresh doggy doodoo to a shoe, even though none of it is my own doing.

“She’s crazy!”

People that eager to stigmatize aren’t usually interested in learning about the inner-workings of a mental illness. They don’t seem to have great reserves of compassion or understanding stored in their rock-hard little hearts and small withered minds. However, they are not my problem. What they think, say and do is of no interest to me. Over the years, I have learned to ignore ignorants. Bipolar Disorder doesn’t define me. Mental illness is not who I am. Staying on top of it all is a bit like training alligators, snapping at their noses with a whip until they back down into the murky waters of my mind and leave me alone to pursue happiness and enjoy other pleasurable activities. The tricky part is knowing when to crack the whip, and being skillful with it, without accidentally slicing off your own toes.

And yet, despite seemingly insurmountable odds, I’m here, a living breathing bipolaroid that sometimes makes sense and sometimes doesn’t, that is sometimes friendly and sometimes anti-social, that is sometimes creative and sometimes feels dead. And sometimes feels absolutely sensational – as long as I’m out of my mind. Getting out of my mind has been a life-long project resulting in both histrionics and hilarity and a modicum of success; picture a Monty Pythonesque scene with hooting trolls wielding meat cleavers at a garden gnome wedding where it eventually ends well. I’m Bipolar And I Know It is part of the success; a non-fiction book documenting the winding path I have taken to find a way to live with my illness without resorting to prescribed medications, and the challenges I encountered along the way. Written neither in the bleak pit of depression nor on the dizzy peak of mania, but from the delicate balance of an emotional stability that comes from the kind of hard work and perseverance for which champions are lauded. Too bad one can’t become famous solely on the basis of battling mental illness with epic heroism and eternal optimism. Many people already renowned for their other achievements have in recent years made the previously über-private battle for sanity more publicly acceptable: Stephen Fry, Russell Brand, Carrie Fisher and Emilie Autumn just to namedrop a few who have shone spotlights on their own depression and come out from behind the stigma, and I applaud all of them for making the rocky path just a little easier for the rest of us non-celeb bipolar plebes.

Making the transformation from suicidal to sensational has taken a lifetime of training, practice, freak-outs and failures, all of which have gradually paved the way to success in living with emotional balance, inner peace and happiness. Getting out of my mind was one of the most important factors. Things haven’t changed that much in there over the years; it could still give a Ghost Train a decent run for its money. However, my attitude to what is in there has changed drastically. My actions and reactions to the environment both inside and outside of my own head make an enormous difference to my mental health. The way I perceive myself from within and without can make or break my day. Allowing myself to feel what I feel without judgment, criticism or fear of reprisals helps to achieve an emotional balance I once thought beyond the realm of reality. Not allowing anyone to judge me based on their own superficiality helps me to hold my head high and reject the “shame” of stigma. And what I feed my mind, body and soul is an integral part of the whole healing process. These are the true secrets to becoming bipolarly sensational.

Click here to find out more about I’m Bipolar And I Know It.

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Reader’s Reviews

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2/18/14
Reader’s review

“I recently had the pleasure of reading your latest book – I’m Bipolar and I Know It. Thank you for being so open and honest. Much of it’s content was helpful in my journey back into happiness and harmony.”

Sandi F
Australia

11/22/13
Reader’s review

“I’m in the middle of this [book] and strangely have more to relate to than I ever would have imagined! You are an amazing, strong and resilient woman … and your smile rocks!”

Teresa B
USA

10/17/13
Reader’s review

“It’s powerful and moving, and gave me a feeling of lightness even though I live with much darkness. Reading through your poignant words, I could see a glimpse of life beyond myself and into another dimension where happiness might be possible. Thank you.”

H.F.B
Germany

09/09/13
Reader’s review

“An acquaintance of mine, Roni Askey-Doran, has written an excellent e-book about techniques she has used to heal herself and live with bipolar disorder and PTSD without medication. It is primarily written as a book for those with these disorders, but it also is a valuable resource for anyone who wants to help a friend, relative, or some one else they care for who is suffering from depression, bipolar disorder, or PTSD. Though the subject matter is serious, Roni keeps the mood upbeat and her sense of humor shines through in the writing. To find out more about the book, visit: https://imbipolarandiknowit.wordpress.com/

Tamia D
USA

08/29/13
Reader’s review

“I finished your book last night and I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re amazing! I had no clue you were bipolar until I heard about the book. I bought it because I like your writing style and because I wanted to support you, but now that I have finished it, I think it should be on the self-help shelf of every library! Not just for bipolaroids, but also for anybody who suffers from depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder, or has a low self-esteem, or anybody who knows anybody like that! Which means everybody. Parts of your toolkit definitely struck a chord with me, and if I’d read your book in November-December 2012, maybe I would have been able to help Dani by saying/doing the right things… and maybe he would still be alive… I cried when I read the part for the family and friends… I have to say I feel even guiltier now, knowing that I said and did things which didn’t help, and didn’t say and do enough things to help… but that’s not your book’s fault. It’s a truly great book. Apart from the writing itself, I think your personal achievements are amazing too! You truly are a survivor and I really admire your perseverance and your strength.”

Melanie S
Belgium

08/13/13
Reader’s Review

“This book is not only for ‘Bipolariods’ and people with depression, it’s for everyone. Refreshingly honest, with no traces of self pity and full of useful anecdotes, it’s an easy read. One of the things that gets us going on the path of healing is finding out we are not alone and not the only one. We are all broken somehow and understanding that is a huge step forward.”

Kerry P
Australia

Help de-stigmatize mental illness and put more
people on the path to healing and happiness.

Just $9.99 gets you a copy of  “I’m Bipolar And I Know it”

All contributions are received with thanks and gratitude

Read the Author’s Story and the TeleRead Article

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Haiku

they say I’m crazy
I’m really just a lost soul
wounded by cruel life

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m Bipolar And I Know It. It works Out!

CoverIBAIKI5smHelp support the campaign to de-stigmatize mental illness
and put more people on the path to healing and happiness.
Just $9.99 gets you a copy of  “I’m Bipolar And I Know it”

Read the Author’s Story and the TeleRead Article

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I’m Bipolar And I Know It – Table of Contents

Plant Therapy is great for combating both depression and loneliness.

Plant Therapy is a proven method that combats my depression.

Table of Contents

  • Who is Roni?
  • Signs that I’m Bipolar and I Know It
  • Mirror Therapy
  • How Are You?
  • Find Your Safe Place
  • Senses Therapy
  • Food Therapy
  • It’s Okay! I’m Okay! You’re okay!
  • Kiss Me, Quick!
  • Are You Out of Your Mind?
  • Do Something For You
  • Laughter Therapy
  • Pet and Plant Therapy
  • Share the Burden
  • Post Eviction Notices
  • Help!
  • Out and About
  • Scream Therapy
  • Notes to Self
  • Penning Away the Pain
  • Family and Friends: A Guide to the Bipolar Labyrinth
  • The Happy Ending
"I'm not crazy. I have Bipolar Disorder."

“I’m not crazy. I have Bipolar Disorder.”

This book is dedicated to my wonderful family, my parents and siblings who have done their best to support me throughout my life, oftentimes struggling to come to terms with my mental illness, but never giving up on me. This memoir also honors the memory of a lost friend, Nicola Conroy, whom this book is unfortunately too late to save. In addition, I dedicate this work to every sufferer of Bipolar Disorder, and to their families and friends who battle bravely alongside. Finally, this book is also dedicated to the destigmatization of all forms of depression and their related mental illnesses, suffered in silence by so many for so long, in order to promote healing and encourage more understanding and compassion all around the world.

“Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination.”
– Mark Twain

JUST $9.99
AMAZON or SMASHWORDS

Writing positive things about yourself improves self-esteem.

Writing myself positive messages vastly improves my self-esteem.

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I’m Bipolar And I Know It – The Book

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Hear the ABC Radio interview about my new book by clicking here!

I’m Bipolar And I Know It; It Works Out! is my true-life story of living with Bipolar Disorder for four decades, the challenges I faced and how I overcame them with hard work and perseverance. My biggest issue was prescription drugs: I didn’t want to use them. Ever. It wasn’t easy. I chose a drug-free path and often struggled to get around the smallest pothole. People used to tell me that I was crazy, that it’s “all in my head.” Actually, it is in my head, that’s why it’s called “Mental Illness”. But it’s also physical and spiritual, and it’s influenced by many factors outside my head. In this struggle to live drug-free and reasonably balanced, I found a few amazing things that really did help me find a way to live comfortably alongside my Bipolar Disorder: I don’t eat wheat, I look in the mirror every day, I hug everyone, I write down my feelings, I eat red beets, I believe in me, and there are many more seemingly insignificant but hugely vital tools that I have learned to use over 40 years that help me to feel good and maintain the delicate balance. Learning all this was life-changing, and I want to share it with you. I believe this autobiographical insight into Bipolar Disorder will demonstrate to bipolar and depression sufferers and their loved ones that they are not alone, and that healing is possible. The demon never goes away, but I found a way to walk beside it in peace and maybe you can too. I’m Bipolar And I Know It is not a downer. In fact, it will probably make you laugh out loud, maybe shed a tear or two of happiness, and even jump for joy.

Read some of the Book Reviews here.

ISBN-13 978-0-9757600-2-4
185 pages

$9.99 per copy

from Amazon or Smashwords

More about Roni Askey-Doran

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I’m Bipolar And I Know It – The Musical

Song Lyrics

When I walk on by, they be lookin’ like: Is she orright?
I feel like I’m beat
Walkin down the street like a crazy freak
Yeah!
This is how I roll
Rollercoaster life, out of control
Under the covers with my marshmallows
Get outta my head, I don’t wanna know!

Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
It works out!
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
It works out!

When I walk in the clinic, this is what I see
Everybody stops and they staring at me,
I got a high IQ
And I ain’t afraid to show it . . .
Show it, show it, show it
I’m bipolar and I know it…
I’m bipolar and I know it
Yeah

When I’m in the hall, got all those loonies around me
And when I’m at therapy, I’m in the nightmare just trying to breathe (what?)
This is how I roll,
C’mon screwballs, it’s time to blow.
We’re headed through the bars, baby, no drugs for me
No fear, don’t care, and depression grade three (what?)

Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
It works out!
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
It works out!.

When I walk in the ward, this is what I see
Everybody stops and they staring at me,
I’m out to lunch
And I ain’t afraid to show it
show it, show it, show it
I’m bipolar and I know it…
I’m bipolar and I know it

Check it out, check it out:
Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, yeah!
Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, yeah!
Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, yeah!
Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, yeah, yeah!
Do the giggle man,
I do the giggle man,
Hee Hee Hee Hee
I’m bipolar and I know it…

Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
It works out!
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
Man, look how we’re barmy (argh!)
It works out! (out, out, out, out, out, out, out)
I’m bipolar and I know it…

(Credit goes to LMFAO for the original tune: Sexy and I Know It)

;):

Posted in Bipolar Disorder, Books, Depression, Music, PTSD, Self-Help, Survival | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment