I have always been one to crave simplicity. I don’t like large, flashy houses. I don’t like being in the city for more than a few days at a time. I don’t like loud, screaming music. I like the country side and the ocean. I like rustic farm homes where family stays close. I like music with solid structure and skillful lyrics. I do, however, like crazy, loud, action packed movies and television shows, but not before bed.
It hasn’t always been this way. I used to love screamo thrasher metal bands. I loved to push the envelope with violence and gore. I loved going into the city to see shows in over-crowded rooms. The louder life was, the better. When my mental health quickly began to decline at the end of 2014, I started to realize I did this things to block out the noise inside myself. If life was constantly going and moving, I didn’t have to worry about what was happening inside of me. Suddenly, I was forced to really look at what was going on. I had no choice. I had a child and a husband, I was in the hospital, I was suddenly very aware of everything that was wrong.
Learning I was bipolar was actually one of the greatest reliefs I have ever felt. I had a name to my demon. There was a reason I was this way. It wasn’t just me being unable to handle life, it wasn’t just me being a failure – I had tangible proof that something else was going on and now all I had to do was treat it.
Shortly after beginning treatment, I found out that I was pregnant with my second child. She was not remotely planned, and was a huge shock. I had to stop all medical treatment because none of it was safe for my baby girl. That was 2 years ago. I have yet to go back to a therapist, I have yet to get back on medication. It’s showing. I know I need to get back into seeking help. It’s…surprisingly a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. I find I get extremely overwhelmed when I begin the process, sometimes it leads me to a panic attack. But I know I need to do this — not just for myself, but for my husband and my daughters. They deserve me at my best and so I have to do what is necessary. I am hoping that within the next few weeks I will begin that road again.
This blog is for myself. A written account of my life as I just try to live with bipolar and manic depression. An account to myself that yes, this is where you started — but look how far you’ve come. It is going to be raw, real, and at times it’s going to be down right crappy. But it is my life, my soul – my way of bearing it all for the world and God to see. I can’t keep ignoring it and hiding it. It is time to come clean and be real.
So let’s be real.
I’ll see you soon.