It’s Sunday, and I still haven’t done my school assignments. Procrastination much? My boyfriend comes out of rehab Tuesday, and I am scared, excited, and nervous about that 3-hour drive upstate to get him. We’ve been through a lot in a short time, his extreme behavior battles with my extreme behavior both negatively and positively – and where most people would scoff and say our relationship is doomed – I am absolutely optimistic and know in my heart without a doubt that he is the man for me.
I’ve been doing well. After that last hospitalization (as traumatic as it was) was what I needed to jumpstart my life again after being dead and dormant for so many long miserable years. I’ve looked back on past blogs, and boy, was I fucked up. I spent nearly two decades drowning in alcohol, men online, dead-end jobs, and overall misery. Bipolar conquered me, the same way it defeats most people today. It’s the depression, it’s the mania, it’s the hopelessness that kills us every time – and when we finally are doing well, something Holy Unbelievable happens to destroy all the progress we’ve made. It’s this kind of destructive cycle that I had been faced with for all those years, and I think I have finally broken through all that horror.
Firstly, the key to my success is the right medication combination. I have admitted to myself that this combination of Respirdone, Lithium, and Seroquel will probably murder my organs by the time I reach 60, but there is really nothing I can do about it. I would rather have a full life in the next 20 years than live in misery and being symptomatic. This look at my ultimate mortality is what propels me even further, and makes me fully aware that because I have been taking these medications for so long, and my soon-to-be-husband is on just as much, we are probably both not going to live long. My goal is to enjoy every damn moment of life right frickin’ now.
I’ve also started working full-time and looking at a side business. I want to live comfortably, and I want to be happy, and I want my marriage with my man to reflect all that happiness in the short time that I have. I realize I may be overreacting and could very well live till 100, but I think the fact that I feel my life is limited, makes me appreciate every moment so much more.
Bipolar doesn’t have to conquer you – you can take that beauty, the thoughts and dreams you have in mania, and write it all down. Make art out it, create what the bipolar gift has given you, and enjoy your self-expression in new and exciting ways. I call it a bipolar gift because that’s precisely what it is – we see things others don’t, we experience realities differently than others, the rush and the excitement that we feel can’t compare to the most potent street drug and that high that people all over the world search for so much, we feel naturally because it is part of who we are.
Conquer the bipolar – go get that job, rip yourself from underneath the covers and sing, dance, or paint away all the pain.
My 40th birthday is coming in six months – I was just 24 when I was first diagnosed, and I lost 16 years in complete stupidness. Not anymore.