This time of year (the middle end of August) marks the time of my second major manic episode. It's basically first major, since right after that I was diagnosed. This year marks three years! From that glum day that September I would never have imagined what I have been through since, and I never would have asked for it. I can say that I have learned some lessons. I can say that we all are given adversity, and this happens to be mine. I can also say that no matter how dark and tattered the world appears, that vision never lasts. Beauty and light can always make it through, just given a little time.
No exaggeration, some of the times during these past three years have been down right bleak and cold and terrifying. They have also been humiliating and disorienting. I have the ability to become someone completely different from who I am during certain weeks and months, (not in the cool super hero kind of way) and that sure does take its toll. Living with this version of a mental illness affects your every day, every year for the rest of your life. The bright side of this kind of life sentence is that I can live my life. Its a different version of the life I may have envisioned, but it's just as beautiful and blessed as I could conjure in my dreams of an every day life.
I got my pills, I got my psychologist, I have my psychiatrist, and my humans (family, friends) who love me. I do also have my worries and regrets, but those I am negotiating with.
I have never really directly blogged on this subject, but I have often thought about it. I hope by being a little more vocal about it, and by giving my experience, I can hopefully find more of those who have shared a similar plight, and we can commiserate/celebrate together.
Yes, I am Megan. I have bipolar disorder. I am not bipolar (that's not a thing- remember that). I'm fortunate enough to rarely have to deal with depression, but I'm getting familiar with maniacal spectacles, as I have had four. I ingest three pills a day, (seven if you count them acne ones) and I go about my business. That business being party rocking, mainly.
I happened upon this post and it touched my soul. Touched my soul, in the wow-finally-I've-found-words-to-illustrate-feelings-I-never-thought-I-could-illustrate way.
(At first I was confused, I thought it was a bunch of gorgeous honey suckle recipes) but one part of a paragraph really stood out to me-
"But I found if I do what I can & never say nasty things about myself, it just passes. It's weather. Summer storms."
(My small quotation can do but little justice. She is such a beautiful storyteller. Now I truly hope this isn't copyright infringement. It was just too too lovely and special not to share.)
It's just weather. Summer storms. The weather changes, just as seasons do, with each new one bringing about a new view.
*a loving term I came up with to improve upon the clinical, sterile sounding word bipolar.
bipollaire. French for crazy fabulous.
Love,
Megan Marie
No exaggeration, some of the times during these past three years have been down right bleak and cold and terrifying. They have also been humiliating and disorienting. I have the ability to become someone completely different from who I am during certain weeks and months, (not in the cool super hero kind of way) and that sure does take its toll. Living with this version of a mental illness affects your every day, every year for the rest of your life. The bright side of this kind of life sentence is that I can live my life. Its a different version of the life I may have envisioned, but it's just as beautiful and blessed as I could conjure in my dreams of an every day life.
I got my pills, I got my psychologist, I have my psychiatrist, and my humans (family, friends) who love me. I do also have my worries and regrets, but those I am negotiating with.
I have never really directly blogged on this subject, but I have often thought about it. I hope by being a little more vocal about it, and by giving my experience, I can hopefully find more of those who have shared a similar plight, and we can commiserate/celebrate together.
Yes, I am Megan. I have bipolar disorder. I am not bipolar (that's not a thing- remember that). I'm fortunate enough to rarely have to deal with depression, but I'm getting familiar with maniacal spectacles, as I have had four. I ingest three pills a day, (seven if you count them acne ones) and I go about my business. That business being party rocking, mainly.
I happened upon this post and it touched my soul. Touched my soul, in the wow-finally-I've-found-words-to-illustrate-feelings-I-never-thought-I-could-illustrate way.
(At first I was confused, I thought it was a bunch of gorgeous honey suckle recipes) but one part of a paragraph really stood out to me-
"But I found if I do what I can & never say nasty things about myself, it just passes. It's weather. Summer storms."
(My small quotation can do but little justice. She is such a beautiful storyteller. Now I truly hope this isn't copyright infringement. It was just too too lovely and special not to share.)
It's just weather. Summer storms. The weather changes, just as seasons do, with each new one bringing about a new view.
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It just so happens that I'll always have my view from the ledge of bipollaire*.
*a loving term I came up with to improve upon the clinical, sterile sounding word bipolar.
bipollaire. French for crazy fabulous.
Love,
Megan Marie
