World Bipolar Day

Yeah, so I don't know what happened to the color of the text here. I did do some fooling around with my template.

So yesterday was World Bipolar Day. It's on Vincent van Gogh's birthday, and as you may know, it was believed that he suffered from bipolar. The main purpose of the day is to bring awareness to bipolar disorder and educate people. The stigma of having bipolar, or any mental illness, is horrible. People judge you based on your disease, and not who you are as a person. It hurts...a lot. That's why I made a decision a long time ago to be totally open and honest with people. If they couldn't accept them for who I am, then fine. I'm better off without them in my life.

However, I wanted to contribute something to yesterday and thought long and hard about what to do. See, I forgot I had this blog. Now that I remembered, I decided that I would write about the last few months because they've been active.

Last year, around June or July, I kind of, sort of, hit rock bottom. I was feeling depressed and thought a lot of suicide. Of course, no one knew. I'm very good at masking my feelings, my thoughts, and any signs. I didn't do anything abnormal. I slept my usual nine hours at night, plus a four-hour nap during the day. I had tickets to several concerts that I went too. Sometime around June, I think, I did tell one friend in a text that I was planning on going through with killing myself after October 17th. I was going to get that last concert in.

After all, I paid for that ticket (honest to God, that was my thinking.)

I would like to emphasize how good I am at hiding things. I was fine to everyone, including my Mother who I live with. I was "fine" to her, "fine" to my friends, and "fine" to my psychiatrist. Not exactly the correct position to take is it??

The concert in October came and went. And my plans were on my mind once the excitement was over. They stayed on my mind and wouldn't go away. Finally, in November, I told my psychiatrist that I was having serious problems. I thought for sure that they would "Baker Act" me (slang for being hospitalized against a person's will because the doctor/officer thought the was a danger to themselves or others for a period of 72 hours.) Instead, they had me attend a Partial Hospitalization Program (or PHP, because I'm not typing that out again.) 

Basically, PHP had four, extremely intense, group therapy sessions with 10 minutes in between. It was hard. Imagine having to sit among a group of people you don't know and having to talk about things that you're good at hiding? Each day we also met with the doctor (who was actually my doctor, to my extreme relief.) for medication changes. 

I got out right after Christmas. It was recommended that I get a therapist to deal with issues I still had, so I researched my choices and chose one. I think I got the best once I could have gotten. I have homework, I work on coping skills and being "mindful." She's using, in part, the Dialectical Behavioral therapy concept. It has focused my mind, and inspired me to make changes. In fact, I can't remember when I felt this good. It's been a long time coming.

Changes that I have made are getting up by 10:00 am (most of the time) and staying up throughout the day with no napping. I need to work on getting out more, but I have gone places I normally wouldn't go too. There is a YMCA opening here in May, and I plan on going three times a week to swim. I am reading a book on tips for writing, since that is something I love to do, and accomplished a goal for that by writing this. I have an idea for a short story or book. There's also a writing group that meets at a nearby library. I applied to volunteer with a local wildlife rescue, but I don't know if that will work out or not. I spend my days mostly coloring. For Christmas, I got a bunch of books, markers, gel pens. I'm also thinking of going to church with my Mom. The Pastor sounds pretty cool. I guess the weekend that the new Star Wars came out, the exit music was the Star Wars theme.

I'm hoping to make friends here locally since all of my friends are at least an hour away from me. I also want to go out and meet my friends for a meal, day at the beach, movie, etc. After all, I can't depend on my Mom for my entertainment all the time!

I'm hopeful and making plans, even if it seems that I'm taking one step forward and two steps back. At least I'm still making progress. I have learned to acknowledge my thoughts and let them go. I've also learned a lot from coloring (go figure.) I've learned that mistakes are going to be made, and how to get around it, or just accept it. It's alright to color outside the lines, and finally, I don't need to be so "traditional." Mismatch those colors, and if I want to color an animal purple, then by golly, I'm gonna do it. I have to stretch my imagination as far as I can go, and then push further.

As of right now, at this minute, this is where I'm at. I'm in a good place. I wish it would last, but it won't. I can only pray that I will learn enough to help myself better next time and that I will be able to communicate to my doctor and his staff.

If you've stuck through this long narrative...yay! I want you to know that I did a lot of editing and this is actually a lot shorter than what I had originally written. 

Carrie