I wasn’t going to talk about the fact that I have a mental illness for the purpose of this blog, but recent events (hospitalization) have changed that tune dramatically. I don’t think people realize the strength that is needed when you stay in one of those places for a long period, especially when it is against your will. There were nights where I just prayed to God to let me die and waking up in a foggy haze the next morning with a nurse ready to pump me full of medication.
It is an absolute nightmare, and more so, a humbling experience. I don’t accept the Bipolar diagnosis, but as I am approaching 40, I MUST. Some people have diabetes, my dad has heart disease, and I have something that impedes my most precious organ, my brain – trust me there were times I wished a heart attack rather than mental illness as crazy as that sounds.
I never had bipolar through my youth or my teen years, in fact, I did a lot of partying, and A LOT of drinking. The DRINKING was the beginning of the end for me because at 24 years old I went to a careless psychiatrist that gave me the pills that I added alcohol to that ended up serving me with this horrible death sentence – and for the past 15 years, I have been trying to crawl out of it. There is no end in sight, except I MUST take my medication like so many people these days have to do. The hardest part for me is never understanding WHY. WHY is the question that I struggle with. I can’t stop my brain from breaking or the universe from cracking, so WHY did our Almighty Father hand me this ailment?? I have come to understand that He knows WHY, and I am not the one who had to understand that question yet. I follow God, whatever and wherever he takes me, and if he decided to test me in blood, sweat and tears in a locked padded room for two weeks straight, screaming bloody murder for someone to help me or even just understand, that’s the trial I had to face.
I am out now, with a chance at a new career and a new lease on life. I just know my brain needs to work with me now. No alcohol, smokes, weed, NOTHING. I need to lead a healthy life now because, as my mom said, “you fucked up the first 40, make the next 40 count,” and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. This shit is so hard, I wish to God none of you reading this has to endure this kind of emotional stress and pain – it’s so much pain, and it runs so deep tears are welling up in my eyes. It’s as if someone took a deep spoon and dug a hole straight into your heart, dipping into the most embarrassing, darkest and deepest secrets for all the world to see. I have nothing left to give of myself. I would say this made me a broken woman, but it did the exact opposite – it made me more determined.
God Bless You All for reading some of my story, I hope I run into you on my journey. Spirituality is your way of salvation in whatever beliefs you have.
I love you.