A day in the life of
A day in the life of
Life with Lolo Smirnoff
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WELCOME TO LAUREN'S BLOG
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About LoLo
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Who Is Oaklie Lolo?
I currently reside in the United States, specifically on the East coast. This blog so to speak, represents a new found freedom and acceptance that I, will always be different, or I prefer the term of endearment-"misfit”. There are a lot of people who are “misfits” just like me; we can't control our mood without the use of medications and must follow strict rules that govern our lives. Some of you may have found a good way to handle both normal stressors and the infringements of life and some are still dealing with acceptance; what I've learned and my wish for all of you who are reading my posts and poetry-its all ok!
People in the community put restrictions and rules on what they don't understand; it's just part of human nature. Life doesn't need restrictions by frightened loved ones. It needs those of us “misfits” to be given the opportunity to find our places in the world, despite the fact that bipolar disorder exists in our everyday life. Yes, in 2001 I was given this diagnosis and was completely overwhelmed, utterly ashamed and felt my life had been taken from me before it even started. Stigma ran rabid, my family treated me as if I was mentally retarded and couldn't live or think without their help. For a long time I believed that; that I as myself just wasn't good enough, just wasn't given any talents or an outgoing personality that anyone would be interested in knowing once I confided in them I was indeed, a “misfit”.
My life as is all of yours, ever evolving, the very persons who are supposed to support and help want to believe that I am unable to live life without control for fear of past mistakes I've made; primarily the manic phase and those mistakes cost much more than a simple dollar amount.
Oaklie Lolo is not my given name, it represents the name I've given myself, my “misfit” name. Taking ownership over things once thought out of reach and I encourage all of you reading this to be brave enough to do the same.
To put it bluntly, I am a tattoo covered, creative, intelligent person that can't hold a conversation without constant anxiety but feels perfectly at home on a stage in-front of an entire audience (explain that?); who for whatever reason has a brain that thinks and processes information slightly differently. I am a “misfit”. But I ask you this, if you could choose right now to either be a drone and conformist in the world of “normal” society, where your creativity and passions are stripped away just so the tiny part of your brain would fit into perimeters designed by ignorant physicians or would you choose to embrace those qualities about yourself that make you, you? Welcome to the world of misfits! Embrace it, encourage it, and never be ashamed.
This portrait was taken on my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary. Now both have “relocated,"; my word usage for death. John and Kathleen were married here on earth for 72 years. Their love and understanding met more than anything, that's why I took care of both till the end. When I needed them they were always there, when they needed help I felt honored to have that responsibility, even though there were challenges along the way.
When my grandfather relocated in 2017 my aunt told me what a cardinal represented in her culture. A family member who loved you dearly and has passed may come and check on you throughout your life; seeing a male cardinal signifies this is occurring. I may go months without seeing a bird and then, for no apparent reason a bright red cardinal will appear.
I have three loved ones in heaven now: my grandfather, Nana and recently my Gramma. Seeing a cardinal is special to me, it gives me great hope that we go on in spirit but with the ability to visit the living.
Position
My sister found this photo by accident while searching pictures to use at his funeral. This single picture from decades past is worth a 1,000 words; a bad cliché I know… My grandfather was not only a grandpa to me, he was my confidant and best friend. When everyone else shunned me, he took me in his giant arms and I felt safe. He was the only person who could hug me without asking permission and that I encouraged to do so.
Everyone else made me uncomfortable, Grandpa helped me feel special. He too was a misfit in his own rite and without his love, support and friendship I know I wouldn't be here today. I miss him more than anyone knows, I probably always will.
Most of all, above all else I miss those hugs. I miss feeling safe; something I haven't felt since April of 2017. Its hard for most people tp understand why I'm so private but it doesn't concern me anymore. I just pray that someday, somehow, I'll find another person whose hugs are so comforting and honest that even when the blackness surrounds me I still know there's hope for another day.
I miss you grandpa.