1st off I fucking wrote this blog post and somehow the powers that be decided my post should magically be deleted. (I cried) I don’t know maybe they felt I wasn’t being real enough and needed a little anger behind what I’m saying. It brings out my hazel eyes or fucking whatever. So here goes round 2 of read my faltering and often incoherent ramblings of what I think is life, well at least my life.
BIPOLAR, GO AWAY…. PLEASE?
Beginning of 2017 less that a year into sobriety I start having major emotional issues. Thinking PMfuckingS I go to my gp who prescribed me paxil.
It wasn’t pms.
Paxil made me feel like I was what I can only describe by me as entirely too much caffeine. I haven’t done any uppers besides caffeine or I’d describe it as meth or crack.
So my gp is like sorry babe that’s all I can do for you and your raging emotions. Anything else I can do for you?
Highly let down and on the verge of tears I go to my mo and jokingly (I was serious) say ha ha yeah if you know a good therapist?!
Well holy shit! Now we meet the 2 of the best people to have ever entered my life Doctor P. and Doctor D.
Going to therapy is scary. Like really fucking scary. You’re about to spend 1- 2 hours with a person and tell them some really personal shit and there’s crying and vulnerability. But it’s wonderful.
It’s really fantastic and releasing (if that’s a thing). You find out all sorts of validating and discrediting stuff about your feelings. 1st you realize that your feelings always matter and they’re real but the way you express them and handle them is pretty fucked up.
While learning about this crap you also learn about mindfulness. Mindfulness is awesome and upsetting at the same time. The bright side is you make less mistakes and life is smoother. The dark side is that you realize how completely and utterly selfish and comatose everyone around you is. So much so that when someone else is considerate you practically scream thank you in their face.
I digress life is magic with a little therapy.
So now I’m pretty balanced. Well as balanced as anyone with a mental health disorder can be and honestly I think I’m better off than a lot of “normal” people. I’ve had a lot of earthquakes and storms on my road. A lot of screaming fights because I’m not understood. There are others where I had to fuck off into the other room because I knew I need to be alone and no one else gets it. I’ve had to take extra time learning how to deal with shit. Every action I make has a reaction just like everyone else but I can be sent on a flying space ship to a land of deep and profound sadness or a land of no sleep go go go go irritability and irrational thinking.
I’m not an expert on bipolar but it’s given me insight to how the human mind works broken or not. Things make a lot of sense now. I see old memories on Facebook and I have that aha moment realizing I needed help long before I sought it. Sometimes I’m a little sad because I know I have to take meds for the rest of my life but I remind myself of the insanity of 2017 and I chide those thoughts away.
Everything will be fine and everything will have hiccups. As long as I’m trying there’s no such thing as failure. There just might not be that many people celebrating with me and I’m okay with that. They’re missing out anyway because bipolar or not I’m pretty awesome.
Thanks for reading this non eloquent malarkey. I have been wanting a place to put down my weird thoughts which probably aren’t so weird in the long run.
Feel free to leave me comments and feedback 😘✌