This weekend marked a milestone for me. Since 2015, I have been hospitalized for manic and depressive episodes attributed to Bipolar I disorder 1-3 times per year. These hospital stays ranged in length from 5 days to 3 weeks. Once, I ended up in the state hospital for 3 weeks. It has been a LONG four years.
You know when they say, “What you resist, persists”? That’s kinda true. I’ve actually done a lot of surrendering over the past year. I think that is the key that’s kept me out of the hospital.
I don’t fight my psychiatrist because I’ve found one who will listen to me–it wasn’t easy. In the beginning we had our share of kinks that we needed to iron out. I see a counselor once a week. I believe this is why a lot of my personal life doesn’t make it to social media. I also take medication. I stopped in 2015 and it landed me in the hospital for the first time in 10 years. Guys, I’ve been taking some form of medication since I was 18 and diagnosed with severe depression. So, I have fought all the battles there is to wrestle with when it comes to medication. I’m familiar with the side effects (which go away), switching medication (one will stop working etc.), Big Pharma (maybe the natural route is the best way to go?)–tell that to me when I am hallucinating, kay? I have no patience for “pill shamers”, so if you’ve got this far reading this and you want to have that conversation with me, you are barking up the wrong tree, my friend. I’m glad it worked for you, but my journey is just . . . different.
I’ve fought a lot of battles. People do look at me differently (unless mental illness has touched their life), there is a stigma, losing relationships and friendships, self-medicating with alcohol, marijuana, and men. Being kinda self-destructive, selfish, and impulsive. Always chasing that ever illusive balance between chaos and peace. It’s exhausting. No wonder I don’t have children!
I have not found a secret way through this messy life. We are all on our own journey. All I can do is tell you that the hardest feats, the scariest times, all changed the moment I surrendered.
When I stopped fighting and I let a higher power help me.
When I leaned on my spiritual life.
It all changed.
All I know is, that somewhere along the way on my journey, I’d forgotten.
Me, the person selling sage kits and crystals. I’d forgotten to surrender. To trust. To ask for help.
And all I know is when I did, it got better, and I remembered that . . .
I have work to do–Important work.