Boldly Bipolar

This is the face of mental illness.

There is nothing wrong with this picture at a glance.

Pretty face. Well kept appearance.

If you see me in public I'm often happy, smiling, laughing.

I'm intelligent. I learn quickly.

I work in healthcare and love my career.

I've actually built a career without Bipolar getting in the way.

I can hold a conversation well above most people's level of comprehension.

I have a home, a nice large SUV, and a beautiful family.

I'm a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sibling, a friend, an employee.

I am so misunderstood that it's frightening.

No worries- I have an incredible psychiatrist that I would refer to anyone.

I am well cared for and well medicated.

I am so stable that no one can tell the chaos in my head.

I am Bipolar- Type II. I am excessively anxious and obsessive.

I am a face of an illness no one sees.

It seeps in around the edges of my beautiful life that I've created.

It seeps in and blurs the delicate fine lines.

There's an air of unease and crawl in my skin.

A pressure in my chest and tunnel vision.

My once well-constructed thoughts are racing in competition.

It comes unannounced and without invitation.

And what I think and feel can often be the worst in your imagination.

My poor husband tries so hard to accommodate me.

I imagine it is so hard to love me and the ill me.

Because once it has you, you're no longer just you.

You're you AND the illness.

It never just goes away.

It's THERE and then it drifts back into the shadows to wait.

I can be the happiest person in the world- really. I can be on cloud nine.

And in moments that light is stripped from me and I can be the most volatile storm-

Impatience rolls like strong thunder.

It boils until my anger strikes like the lightening across a vast sky.

And once I am aware, guilt pours for hours.

I could cry until my heart hurts and it never seems enough to redeem me in my head.

It's not enough to just have the one.

I can remember the very night. The very minute that anxiety burst into my life.

It took control so quickly, I had no time to prepare.

It was an oppressive feeling of impending doom.

So much so that I felt I was quite literally dying.

I was surely having a heart attack.

I was suffocating. I was dying. My heart was never going to stop beating so fast. Surely I was dying.

Thankfully I was surely just having a panic attack.

And it hurt so bad to know that no one around me understood.

"It's in your head"

OF COURSE IT IS. IT ALWAYS IS.

THAT'S THE PROBLEM-

IT'S IN MY HEAD, NOT YOURS.

It has never stopped.

It's been over a year since anxiety popped into my life and never left. It joined it's Bipolar friend and they've been having a blast ever since.

They tell you to look for your triggers and that's the beginning of recovery.

Mine are the things I hold most dear to me- my children.

How incredibly difficult it is to love the very things that invite such a panic. But I would take this panic over and over just to have them.

Lord knows how many times I've taken a temperature and then repeated it over and over every five minutes just to reassure myself that the thermometer is correct. I can't explain this necessity. I have to know that my daughter's temperature is "ok". I need to know that she's not actively ill. Despite her own unfortunate diagnosis- Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome- she is healthy. And I know she is healthy, but then I don't know that. And THAT is scary for me.

My gorgeous newborn son with his SVT heartbeat. I HAVE to know that he is not in SVT, despite giving his medication like clockwork.I HAVE to listen to his heart with a stethoscope numerous times a day. In my world of self-inflicted discomfort-

I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to hear a regular heartbeat in your child that you thought was dying just weeks ago.

I can't begin to describe every situation that runs through my head that I unnecessarily obsess and worry about in relation to my children. Too many to count. Too much stress to relive.

I may feel guilty for many things, mostly unnecessary. But I will never feel guilty for obsessing about my beautiful babies.

My incredible husband has no fucking clue what to do with me in these panicked states.

I wouldn't either. He has no understanding of what I'm feeling. And he tries so hard. And it's the worst feeling to know that you are not able to control yourself and you have to rely on another human being to be your ground during these horrible episodes...but this human being cannot relate to it. It's not his fault, he can't see what's wrong or feel it...how can anyone understand it.

It is the most lonely, desolate feeling in the world to be standing in a room full of people and knowing not a one of them understands.

It's like gasping for air as you drown alone, knowing no one can save you.

And it's surreal because despite that loneliness, you still have to find a way to function normally and try to find a happy life.

Thankfully because of my incredible husband, and my intermittent determination to seek stability, I have that balance. I've somewhat found a way to live in both worlds.

This is a snapshot of mental illness.

And now, know that I am okay.

But also know- THERE ARE SO MANY THAT ARE NOT. There are so many people that suffer and do not get the help they need for so many reasons. Maybe they don't tell anyone. Maybe someone sees something wrong but doesn't ask them. Maybe they feel like admitting that they're struggling mentally is admitting weakness or damage. Maybe they have a certain insurance that isn't accepted. There's so many reasons why people that need mental support are not getting that mental support.

I can't tell you how unsettling it is that I know for a fact that there are many people that desire counselling or need to see a psychiatrist and they can't. They can't get the help they so desperately need because there's a system they have to follow in order to MAYBE get the help they need if a counselor determines that they do in fact need to see a psychiatrist.. That's like sitting a stick of dynamite next to a fire and hoping it doesn't ignite. Some people don't need counselling. They need medication to balance the chemicals in their brains. And sometimes the only way to get immediate intervention is to say that you are feeling like harming yourself or others. I personally know that if I cannot get the help I am so desperate for, I give up. I did so many times, for so many years. And that's what's happening right now. We need more people to stand up for mental illness treatment so that there can be an easier access to care.

This is why I am Boldly Bipolar.

Because being quiet about a big problem, only makes it BIGGER.

If I can stand and say this is my issue, it's a serious issue but there's a chance to make it better-

maybe someone else can do that too.

Someone has to say something about what no one is talking about.

MIGHT AS WELL BE ME!

Below is a hotline for the National Alliance on Mental Health. They offer many resources for those needing help.

1-800-950-NAMI (6264) or [email protected]