Three and a half months

Sometimes it is hard to think about how much life can change in 3.5-months. Tomorrow, I see my psychiatrist for the first time that I think that he will be willing to sign off on my returning to school (and work). I’m excited and scared. In these last few months, I have come to terms with some very difficult things. I have learned that despite my best efforts that I cannot control Bipolar Disorder.

I have learned that medication is only part of the equation. Limiting stress and moderation are very important. I learned that my force of will could not make me better. It took a long and difficult path to reach that point. I learned that it was okay to admit that I was completely unable to control my world or even my emotions, even a little.

But, I also learned as I got better that I needed to determine the person that I am deep down inside. Not the person trying to be what someone else wanted. Not the person pretending to be stronger than she was. Not the person who reacted badly to being hurt and wanting to hurt someone else back.

Working with my psychologist has been great for this, but my trip to New Orleans taught me so much more about myself. It taught me that I am self-reliant, but that I love my family and value them. It taught me that while I am very good at reading people that I am not always good at judging them. I am far too likely to give the benefit of the doubt. It taught me that I seek safety because I have so often been afraid. It taught me that despite the voices in my head that still plague me from time to time that I want to live. Most importantly, I have learned that it is okay to just be me. As odd as I am, as introverted as I am, as much as I care about my clients, as passionate about social issues as I am, and equally passionate about my religious beliefs. Even my complete disdain for the Evangelical movement (if you are offended, I’ll be happy to explain why). I despise Donald Trump and his Cabinet. Yep, I’m saying it now, worst president since Andrew Jackson. Maybe even worse than Andrew Jackson.

There is a wonderful world out there and I want to be there as my children experience it. I want to travel with my husband before his knees give out on him.

More than anything, after 3.5-months I look forward to waking up each day with the Queen in our new home. A home that is free of damp and mold. A home where her two loving parents are happy, and her brother and sister are working on it. Where her mother is finally healthy.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.