Clearing the Cobwebs

Blog, it's good to see you. It feels so cozy to be writing in a place of my own. I've started my major classes (as in classes for my major) and a writing internship so to write something for myself feels like a treat.

1. Happy Friday the 13th
2. Happy Galentine's Day
3. Happy Have a Sick Day

On Tuesday this week, I was not sure how I was going to have a break. Everything piled on at once, and I felt like I'd never dig myself out of it. I'm here to remind myself that it gets easier to breathe sooner than you thought. Since I was so stressed, I got myself a springtime weather cold and a day off. I try to figure out why I get so down in the dumps so quickly. Is it hormones? Probably. Chemical imbalance? Most likely. I'd say one of the overlooked difficulties of mental illness is the lack of differentiation. Can I blame my mind for my sudden sense of despair that lingers in the air for awhile? How am I to know?

It's been almost five years since I first felt the effects of bipolar disorder. It's been almost three years since I was hospitalized(!!) It feels like yesterday, all of it. That's what makes it more difficult to forget and move on. Since a part of me is capable of who knows what, I feel like there are aspects of my mind that I'll never truly accept. Who wants to speak up when your professor calls something bipolar? Who wants to be the one to say, "That person is not bipolar, they have bipolar."

Here's a scenario for you. Say I were to have come down with a rare form of athlete's foot, (I'm staying away from the cliche cancer or broken limb examples.) Say it's permanent and there's no cure. (I honestly know nothing about athlete's foot.) I would hope that I could eventually accept it as the new normal. I'd take care of it, and that'd be that. When people ask what's up with my feet, I'd say permanent athletes foot and yes it's sad that I can't wear fun sandals and yes it sucks. I'd expect some sympathy and some shying away from my feet but hopefully people would look past that and just see me.

Now with an illness, such as bipolar disorder, that is also permanent and I did not ask for, it's tricky to separate it from yourself. Since your mind is essentially who you are and it has a major blip or glitch, was that the true me? Sure you can say, "That wasn't really you." or "You were unrecognizable" or "that was just the illness talking." but if I internalize those thoughts, it does not go well. For me, my actions whether during an episode or as the "regular me" were decisions that I knowingly made. I was acting in my best interests. I was under a supreme amount of stress that I was trying to do anything to escape from. But when I come out of it and everyone in my life is traumatized, I turn against myself. During a manic episode, I feel confident and free and capable. I feel hopelessly optimistic and dedicated to getting everyone on my same wavelength. When the consequences of these actions caused by my own brain (whether imbalanced or not, it's still my same brain) led me far away from where I thought I was headed in mania land. I became extremely, even paralyzingly embarrassed. I did anything to avoid the songs, outfits, and people that I was once so drawn to. I became my own enemy to save what was left of my pride.

Now that I've been somewhat stable for two years, how do I handle the small up and downs? I find it hard to explain how it feels to know what my mind is capable of, and mortified of repeating the same mistakes. My mind's conflicted. I feel optimistic about my future and ready for major life changes, but I'm terrified to shift my situation in case it sets me off into a manic spiral. I applied last minute to an internship program in Washington D.C. this fall. I feel ready for an adventure, but I'm worried that I can't measure up. I'm consumed with "what ifs" that I feel like quitting everything and living some kind of simpler life. I am proud of how I've been maturing and furthering myself in my life and career. But I can't help but wonder about what could happen down the road. It can be hard to trust myself when I'm not exactly sure if I'll always be stable.

I wish that everything I want to talk about could be light and fresh and easy to digest, but that would only get me so far. By staying silent on how I'm truly feeling, I'm pushing the fears away that are sure to come back again.  What I'm getting down to is that I'm trying to figure out exactly how mental illness is affecting me in my life today. The first step is to simply talk about it. If you're reading this, thank you. Breaking down stigma starts with empathy, which is something that I try to practice with myself. I only hope that I can one day hold my head high and be proud of everything I've done, mania and all.