The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
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 bipolar isn't a crime and doesn't require you to protect yourself from me. Shockingly, by speaking up and being an advocate for myself and others, the security was removed with the agreement that the door be left open. Not a huge step but a step nonetheless.
As I go to school and study to be a victim's advocate, I will use my voice to help those who need it most. Maybe that advocacy will let me to be the voice for those who are mentally ill and can't always speak up for themselves. Being mentally ill doesn't make you scary or dangerous, it makes you in need of occasionally empathy. But if we are being honest with ourselves, being human makes us in need of occasional empathy.
I don't wish the pain I feel right now on anyone. I don't know why I was chosen but I will do with it what I can. I will carry on and try my hardest to be a good and kind person. I will shake of the negativity like the doctor today who told me that I should be ashamed of myself by not setting a better example for my son. To him and all others, I am ashamed that some bipolar episodes make me less than kind, less than compassionate, and less than perfect. I will never use it as an excuse because I am indeed a work in progress. Like all of us, I stumble and I fall. My children have witnessed the good, the bad and the ugly with me. I hope that they take with them the good and carry that with pride. Carry with them the love that fills my heart for them and shake off all the ugly. The reality is that life can be ugly and sometimes that ugly is me. But I think that most who know me, consider me to be a loving and caring being. A being who looks for the best in everyone in spite of the ugly.
For today, I enter it with hope. Hope that this hospitalization was a good choice. To all of you who have never experienced a mental health stay firsthand (which I hope is most of you), it is plain yucky. Loss of liberties, loss of privacy, and way too many people in your space and business. But it is what it is, I guess. It is a broken system that no one can or cares to fix. At the end of the day, I generally come out feeling better than I went in. For the best of myself and my family, I hope that this does the trick for years to come. It is not a great place to be or go but I am doing it for my family. I love my family enough to suck it up and get the help I need.
hat
As far as blessings, I am grateful that I sought help before it got too bad that I wasn't able to seek help. God it good, he gave me the sight to know that this wasn't right, I wasn't right and that I needed to do the right thing.
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 bipolar isn't a crime and doesn't require you to protect yourself from me. Shockingly, by speaking up and being an advocate for myself and others, the security was removed with the agreement that the door be left open. Not a huge step but a step nonetheless.
As I go to school and study to be a victim's advocate, I will use my voice to help those who need it most. Maybe that advocacy will let me to be the voice for those who are mentally ill and can't always speak up for themselves. Being mentally ill doesn't make you scary or dangerous, it makes you in need of occasionally empathy. But if we are being honest with ourselves, being human makes us in need of occasional empathy.
I don't wish the pain I feel right now on anyone. I don't know why I was chosen but I will do with it what I can. I will carry on and try my hardest to be a good and kind person. I will shake of the negativity like the doctor today who told me that I should be ashamed of myself by not setting a better example for my son. To him and all others, I am ashamed that some bipolar episodes make me less than kind, less than compassionate, and less than perfect. I will never use it as an excuse because I am indeed a work in progress. Like all of us, I stumble and I fall. My children have witnessed the good, the bad and the ugly with me. I hope that they take with them the good and carry that with pride. Carry with them the love that fills my heart for them and shake off all the ugly. The reality is that life can be ugly and sometimes that ugly is me. But I think that most who know me, consider me to be a loving and caring being. A being who looks for the best in everyone in spite of the ugly.
For today, I enter it with hope. Hope that this hospitalization was a good choice. To all of you who have never experienced a mental health stay firsthand (which I hope is most of you), it is plain yucky. Loss of liberties, loss of privacy, and way too many people in your space and business. But it is what it is, I guess. It is a broken system that no one can or cares to fix. At the end of the day, I generally come out feeling better than I went in. For the best of myself and my family, I hope that this does the trick for years to come. It is not a great place to be or go but I am doing it for my family. I love my family enough to suck it up and get the help I need.
hat
As far as blessings, I am grateful that I sought help before it got too bad that I wasn't able to seek help. God it good, he gave me the sight to know that this wasn't right, I wasn't right and that I needed to do the right thing.
Comments
Post a Comment