My Bipolar Life

It is an interesting dynamic that I find myself in right now.  Full of shame and full of pride all in one moment.  I have voluntarily committed myself into a mental health unit.  As I signed the papers, I couldn't help but feel heartbroken that I am again going down this path.  In a strange way, I feel proud, too, because asking for help is difficult.  And a bit humiliating.  It is humiliating admitting that you are slipping, that you aren't always strong and that you need help. As I sit in this bed waiting for the ambulance to transport me to the locked facility, I need to remember that this isn't something that I chose (the illness, that is).  For whatever reason, God has chosen me to be bipolar.  I like to think that it is because I handle it with grace and do my best to educate anyone that I come into contact with.  About ten minutes ago, the had security escorted to my door.  Not because I warranted security but because it is protocol.  I spoke up said that being bip

Today my son graduates.  As he puts it, "High school graduation isn't a big deal, it just proves you are not a screw up.'  The reality is that to me, it is a big deal.  I look back at the long and winding road that has brought us here and I am astonished that it has turned out this well.  For all the gifts that bipolar has given me: loving, caring, compassionate and understanding, I have failed miserably in other ways.  I was sick A LOT.  I put my husband in the position to be a single dad at the drop of a hat more than I care to remember.  But, you know what?  My son is truly amazing.  Somedays I think that I had a huge hand in that and somedays, I think it is in spite of me.  Today, I feel that I had a huge hand in shaping the man that he has become. When I wasn't sick, I was truly involved and engaged in his upbringing.  I gave him the gift of independence and patience by not always putting him first.  If I was busy, he waited until I was available.  I nev

I haven't written a long time because as my last entry said, I have been in a bad place.  I would love to say that I am in a much better place but that isn't very true.  In the last few weeks alone, I have had three people tell me how horrible I am.  Well as much as I truly try to not worry what others think of me, it is nearly impossible when three people who know you well think awful things about you.  How do I not take that personally?  How is that not about me?  Am I simply delusional about who I am and what I bring to the table?  Am not the kind, caring, friendly person that I want to be, that I think I am? I have made some changes and one of the biggest is that I am seeing a new psychiatrist.  I needed that change.  I needed some new tough love but there needs to be love in there.  My previous doctor wasn't all that invested in my well-being.  He said some rather mean things to me at my last appointment and I used all my strength to walkaway knowing that being spoke