Tag Archives: Bipolar

I Should Have Started This 25 Years Ago.

Greetings, faithful readers. No time for pleasantries lets get right to it.

A year ago, I made the fateful decision that taking up skateboarding at the age of 37 would be a good idea. It all started when eight year old Little Mitch got it into his head that he needed to skateboard. Check that, not strong enough. More like my Photo on 2015-03-22 at 6.17 PMoffspring relentlessly dogged me for months to get him a skateboard. Skateboarding was one of those things that I never really considered since childhood. I thought I want to skateboard too, I don’t want to sit there on the sidelines, I want to skate with my kid. After a quick trip to our skateshop we picked out our decks and have not looked back since. We jumped into the deep end of the skatelife and we love it. It’s been a year and I wanted to reflect upon what I’ve learned about myself as I skateboard.

-I should have started this 25 years ago. Now, I mean this a couple of ways. Right from the first time I got on a board and got moving, it just felt good. Good and right. There’s no better feeling than feeling the vibration of the pavement beneath you, the wind in your face, your heart beating rhythmically, the zen feeling of knowing you are in total control of that wood plank beneath you. For me, these things combined with the mental concentration it requires to control the physical aspect and the mental input of constantly scanning for cracks, rocks, branches in the pavement etc. creates a clear place of mental zen for me. Which, when you have bipolar/OCD is extremely rare, my brain literally never shuts up. Comes in handy for pointless pop culture trivia, not so good for long business meetings.blossom-hats-today-150702_3_8a2ef44cd14b522976e72f202163b4a0.today-inline-large

“Remember that episode of Blossom where Six sang Neil Diamond? That was awesome. Oh shit, the boss just asked me what I think of the fall statistics proposal. Six sang “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.” Oh right, frick I have no idea about the stats, damn it. Now I got that song on a loop in my head all day. Thanks OCD. “

-I should have started this 25 years ago Part II I’m under no delusions that skateboarding is a young mans sport to learn. Little Mitch is a freaking mimic sponge. He can spend all afternoon watching pro skateboarders doing tricks on YouTube and attempt them later at the skatepark with ease. Me? It’s been a year and here is the list of tricks I have on lock.

-Staying on board whilst moving.

-Bombing down a hill.

-Surfing and hard carving.

-Carving a skate bowl.

-Kickturn (which I lost for at least 6 months due to injury, more on this later)

That’s the list of tricks I got on lock. Sure I’d love to grind down a huge eighteen stair set like you see those pros doing on the swanky-talking-pornstache-3covers of skate magazines ,but that’s the thing. These guy are pros, as in professional. They’ve been doing this for twenty plus years since they were children, this is what they do day in day out. I think of professional skateboarders as I do professional porno actors. These guys are the elite physical athlete masters of their specialized skill set. Just because they can do that act you’re watching doesn’t mean you should attempt that act before you’re ready. Unless its growing a pornstache, everyone looks great with one of those.

Plus, there’s the risk assessment. Many times I look at a skate line or route and think I could attempt that but I weigh the pros and cons of physical risk first. When you’re fourteen, you break your arm skateboarding, the effect on your life is minimal. Miss a few days of school and get a cool cast for your friends to write on. When you’re thirty seven years old and type for a living to feed your family and pay for your housing and general living a broken arm would impact my life immensely. Which brings me to my next topic.

I should have started this 25 years ago Part III. Don’t get me wrong, skateboarding has become one of my life passions. To be totally honest though, it has a steep learning curve. First lesson of skateboarding should be “You’re going to fall. It will happen. Repeatedly.” Seeing as we have been talking about personal risk, let’s do a retrospective of my injuries the past year. Stop take a minute, and put Skid Row’s classic ballad “I Remember You” on your Ipod for dramatic effect while you read the list.

-Sprained wrist.

-Sprained knee.

-Sprained shoulder.

-Heel pain.

-Bursitis in both arms.

-Hip pain.

-Back pain (I think I paid for my chiropractors new BMW this year).

-Achy knees.

-Achy ankles.

-Too many numerous scrapes and bruises to count.

Was it worth it? HELL YES. I love skateboarding so much, that the pain and the ache doesn’t bother me. Sure, it sucks some mornings crawling out of bed feeling like a I got hit by a Mack truck after hard slamming into the concrete bowl at the skatepark the day before, but I don’t care. Each bang, bruise or strain is a marker on the journey. I’ve had numerous people, friends, family and health care professionals tell me I’m crazy to start skating at my age.

You know what’s crazy to me? Running in place going nowhere on a moving treadmill for a set amount of time. Or lifting a heavy weight up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down again. I would feel like a hamster on a wheel doing those things, not accomplishing anything. To be fair to people who do those activities, I am not criticizing what you do, I’m just stating it’s not for me. I don’t have the luxury of not exercising. I go sedentary and my weight balloons fast, it always has. Plus, when you have bipolar regular exercise helps keep you on an even keel with your symptoms. I really don’t have a choice, I need to exercise, so If I’m going to exercise I might as well do an activity I love.

I’m sure you could read this blog entry and still think why anyone would want to skateboard? Think what you want but the great part of being a thirty seven year old rookie skateboarder is that I’m old enough to know better, old enough to not give a shit what people think, old enough to know that the only person I need to please on my board is myself and old enough to know that I am definitely a better skater than Elvis, Gandhi and Jesus. I really have to evidence to support this claim but I have no evidence to refute it either.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a pornstache to grow.

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Back In The Dating Saddle…Again.

Greetings faithful readers. You’ve probably noticed a slow down in my posts as of late. This is pretty typical for me this time of year for a number of reasons:

-November and December are prime allergy and cold and flu season for me, and this year was no different. Mainly I lived on my couch in sweatpants feeling like 6lbs of shit stuffed into a 5lb sac.

-January to February there’s really not a whole lot going on. Plus, being in the middle of a Planet Hoth like winter in the middle of suburban hell, I tend to cocoon in my house with movies and books a little more than usual. When there’s sweet fuck all going in your life, there’s sweet fuck all to write about.


-The video game, Red Dead Revolver: Undead Nightmare, I got for Christmas has sucked entirely way too much of my free time. Killing hordes of zombies in the old west is just way too much fun for me to regret the lack of human contact and ensuing carpal tunnel.

-I’m putting actual honest to god effort into online dating.

Yes, that last one is the jumping off point for this blogisode. As you recall, I took a bit of a break from the online dating world after the soul bruising “Sweatpants Date.” Christmas rolled around and I learned one important delayed life lesson. Being single at Christmas sucks. It sucks almost as much as being drunk with your mom on X-mas eve while watching Die Hard as she starts to wax nostalgic after her fifth whisky screwdriver. I never noticed it my first divorced Christmas because I was working on a huge freelance writing gig right up until Christmas eve, and I had Little Mitch most of the time, I had no time to think about being divorced over the holidays.

Not this year though, I had no big projects, and with sharing custody of Little Mitch with his mom more than the year before, I had more time to myself. Then factor in I was so sick I was just at home with nothing to do but think. Too much time to think with nothing to do is never good for me. Plus, being so sick meant I was not exercising. Which, when you are bipolar and manage your moods with daily regular exercise means you got a depression bipolar downswing coming in the mail. Charlie Sheen’s bipolar gets out of whack he gets porn star girlfriends, more fame and a new tv show, I get depressed and mope like a EMO teenage girl on her first period. That’s when the self loathing starts. To sum, I felt like crap, I was loathing myself and my bipolar perceived “relationship failures” of 2012 and I just felt really, really divorced.


Finally, all my cold, flus and infections ran their course. I got well enough to ease into exercise again and my moods stabilized and I was back to my regular Mitchness.

I reflected upon 2012 and why I was so disappointed. I figured 2012 was the year I would date, and end up in a healthy relationship, that simple and straightforward, right? Nope. Didn’t work out that way. Me brooding, blaming and loathing myself isn’t going to change that. What was the common denominator for me in 2012 and the relationships that didn’t pan out? Me. Not only me, but my expectations. I realized a good portion of my after the fact disappointment in myself of how my relationships failed in 2012 was that I had naive, preconceived static expectations about how the dating year would pan out. I concluded I can’t change the people I dated, or how the relationships faltered but I can change my expectations. I concluded that when it comes to relationships and dating nothing is going to change if I don’t change it. It was time to get back in the dating saddle again.


I decided that in 2013 I will take the mentality of a closing pitcher in baseball. These guys are known as “closers”, they come in in the last innings of a game, throw strikes and hopefully end the game with a win. “Closers” are known for having short memories if they throw a bad pitch, or the ability to shake off adversity, and move on. That’s the mentality I need to take. No more brooding, blaming or loathing. When it comes to dating, my mentality is that of a closing pitcher, short memory, shake off the losses and one bad pitch is just one bad pitch forget it and move onto the next one.


So far, 2013 is off to a good dating start, with three dates with three different lovely ladies. Dating, like baseball can be a long gruelling up and down season, you just need to shake off the bad pitches and keep going one pitch at a time. Play ball!

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Mitch’s One Line Review of Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

“The premise is a bipolar dude whose marriage falls apart after infidelity attempts to rebuild his life all the while trying to manage his mental illness…as a bipolar dude whose marriage fell apart after infidelity attempting to rebuild his life all the while trying to manage his mental illness, this film really spoke to me for some reason.”


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22nd Blogisode Spectacular! (Originally Published October 16, 2010)

It’s a typical Friday night in the Mitch household. Mrs. Mitch is working late, Little Mitch is in bed and I’m taking it easy, trying to come up with a semi-coherent blogisode. I’m finding the most challenging part of writing regularly is trying to come up with a new idea every week. People often ask me where my blogisode ideas come from. That’s a total fabrication. Nobody asks or has ever asked me that. I just see actors using that phrase in magazine interviews and wanted to invoke a grandiose sense of self importance in myself and say “people often ask me.”

Some weeks I have a brilliant idea strike me out of the blue and the words come easy. Some weeks I sit down with an idea to write about and end up writing about something else altogether. I often find that the most challenging weeks to write are the weeks where I fall into the work, home, dinner, spend time with Little Mitch, put Little Mitch to bed, watch TV, go to bed, and repeat Monday to Friday rut. That saps any creativity I may have. You can’t write about life when you don’t have one. 

Then there are weeks like this where all I can come up with is erratic idea snippets; which usually means I haven’t been getting enough sleep and my Bipolar Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is flaring up again…flaring up again…flaring up again…wait, that’s an uneven number…flaring up again…that’s better.

Then it hit me like a Little Mitch flying headbutt to the groin what this week’s blogisode should be about. Seriously, that happens more than you would believe. All 29.5 lbs of Little Mitch flying off the couch headfirst to plant his prodigious cranium in my groin as I watch cartoons with him. I probably didn’t need that vasectomy because after that headbutt he wasn’t getting a little brother anyways. I was going to wait for my 25th blogisode to have my blogisode anniversary spectacular, but everyone does that. 

Let’s be unorthodox! Ladies and ladies and ladies (don’t want a sausage festival) and gentlemen! Welcome to the Mitch Being Honest 22nd Blogisode Spectacular! No cover charge, three drink minimum, and panties optional if you’re hot! I’m feeling lazy and with my erratic OCD thought patterns right now, writing graceful transitions feels like a colossal pain. Therefore, I’m pulling a writers cop out; a list. 

Things I’ve learned from the Mitch Being Honest blog so far.

1. Gaining readers takes time, but it will happen. When I first started, I had one dedicated reader, my nephew Brandon. There, now quit hassling me, I gave you a mention. Actually, he was my first reader and first fan and as a thank you he is the proud owner of an ultra rare, only two in existence Semi-Official Mitch Being Honest T-Shirt. From there, I gained readers slowly but steadily. I even managed to fulfill a life dream and picked up some freelance writing work (Thanks Cuz!) because of Mitch Being Honest. Check out her TV show CAUTION: May Contain Nuts, if you like Mitch’s humour you’ll like this show. 

I’m really not sure how many readers I do have. Would it kill you guys to send me an email “hello” once in a while? There’s probably some software I could get that could tell me this but I don’t have the time or the patience to do that because the point of the blog is to keep myself dedicated to writing not become a low level programmer. In the future, I’m thinking of doing an entire blogisode where the weeks topics are derived completely from fan submitted suggestions. 

2. The “No Swearing Rule.” When I first started the blog I had one rule which was unspoken until now. No swearing. With the obvious exception of the words “A-hole” and “Douchebag” which I have used repeatedly in the past. I mean no swearing using the big ones, the “F” word and the “S” word or any other swear. Why you ask? Mainly I just felt that dropping swears when you write is lazy writing and makes for lazy humour. It’s an easy trap to fall into but a hard one to get out of you full of s**t rat f**king bastard. See? Lazy, and not all that funny.

3. The Mitch Persona. I definitely have to say one of the most enjoyable aspects about the blog is using the Mitch persona to express myself and the going ons in my life. It allows me to distance myself somewhat from myself and be totally honest, which is the basic philosophy of the blog. The weird thing is I really don’t see any real difference to being myself or being Mitch, it’s one and the same guy. It’s kind of like the third Flash. I’ll warn you it’s going to get really geeky in here for a minute so you may want to exit the room for a few minutes, unless you’re a hot chick who’s totally into dorky slightly overweight comic book geeks in their mid thirties, you’re more than welcome to stay; where’d everybody go? The third Flash superhero was Wally West. At some point in his crime fighting career his secret identity was revealed to the general public. So Wally West is the Flash and the Flash is Wally West. That’s how I look at the Mitch persona and myself. I’m Mitch and Mitch is me. That will be the title of my first book, and will feature a soft focus picture of me in front of a lake wearing an Abercrombie & Fitch sweater at sunset looking pensive, self reflective, and as new agey as possible. In reality, I want the title of my first book to be “Really? I’m the one  in this family who needs to be on medication? Really? Really?” and my book will have a Playboy style nude centrefold of a naked lady with immense breasts. That way if you don’t like the book at least you can look at a naked lady and who doesn’t love that? 

No need to thank me, I’m an idea man it’s what I do.

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