I write this post against every. single. bone. in. my. body.
It’s my fault. I stopped my lithium and I’m losing my mind. I have had the absolute AMAZING weekend in NYC. I can’t explain to you how big I smiled. I walked down the street Saturday morning in the most amazing bliss, I wish I could have invited each and every one of you. I can’t explain to you how agitated I became and needed to take klonopin. I have drank on average over a bottle of wine a day. So I live in Massachusetts now, my health insurance has been a complete joke, since I don’t get it through work. I enrolled myself in my own plan recently, honestly a small monthly fee, high deductible and HMO plan but it’s for therapy.
When I don’t feel on this insane high. I feel like shit. I’m agitated. I can’t even type how I feel because it angers me and the anticipate of how someone will react to it, will trigger me. This is bipolar. This is me. This is my life.
But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I’m at home in Princeton, in my parents house. It doesn’t matter that my dad still pays my rent in Boston (I feel SO GUILTY that I can’t budget money and I’m sorry to the people who can’t make ends meet). It doesn’t matter that I’ve finally graduated college. It doesn’t matter I have a job. It doesn’t matter that I have all of the stupid materialistic things in the world I feel I truly need. I feel like shit, I’m a spoiled brat compared to the homeless people who suffer from bipolar or who are incarcerated for their disease and I am here, saying that my life is tough as a I drink bottles of wine and type this post on my Macbook in my bed, in my apartment, in the heat. But honestly, my brain is not balanced, there is a disconnect all over. I am sorry to the people who suffer bipolar in a different environment because it’s cyclical. I’m not close to being out of the cycle but I want to help each and every damn fucking person in America who has a mental illness get out of this cycle and be the person they are and contribute and change America for the best.
I’m sad. I’m sad I can’t experience the world as others. My roommates, coworkers, friends, strangers all think I’m full of energy. I appear to be and usually I am. (I have a chronic resting bitch face though) And I hit walls. Sometimes, I can’t get out of bed. It’s a weekend, it’s 2pm, I snooze that alarm and take a *6 hour nap*, if you can call that a nap.
Sometimes I’m so agitated I can’t have conversations. It sucks. It sucks. I’m the most extroverted and people think I’m so normal, so I stigmatize myself so much. I wear the right designers, I buy the trendy shoes, I eat at the right places (sweetgreen ily), I vacation to the right places. From the outside, I’m your basic bitch. But my drinking problem is out of hand. I spend so much money. I have bipolar disorder. I’m manic a lot of the time these days.
This blog is my journal for right now. I need professional help. I miss my therapist from home. I’m afraid to email her, I don’t want her to worry about me, I know she does. She is probably worrying because I haven’t emailed her. But I want to email her when everything is great, I don’t want to lie.
And I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter where you are. You can change your scenery, change your environment, go to another country, eat a new diet, get a new job, make new friends, get a new job, marry a new man. It doesn’t matter!!! Having a mental illness and being bipolar is internal. I moved to Boston (amen, though, for other reasons) but NONE of my mental health problems have left. I am here and I wish I could have a little mental rest, I want to go to an IOP (intensive outpatient program, half day situation). But I can’t, I won’t tell my employer (EVER), I’m going to go to work tomorrow and fake it till I make it. It’s my fault, I haven’t taken lithium.
I don’t want to be medicated. I love the high feeling of mania. It’s addicting. It reminds me why I was addicted to adderall.. Walking down 5th ave in NYC with the largest smile on my face about to go black friday shopping, look at the windows at Bloomys, stroll through central park. I can’t compare it to anything. I remember that feeling like it was this exact second. Emotions are INSANE when you are bipolar. They’re amazing, you’re queen, you’re hot, you’re sexy, every boy wants you, every outfit looks good on you. I’ve never done a serious drug (…besides cocaine) but I would compare it to that. And I would emphasize with people who are addicted to heroin or meth or whatever because that feeling is not something you voluntarily leave. You are hooked. You are hooked on being manic, you don’t leave mania unless you are amazingly disciplined (please DM me and tell me your secret) and you say this is good for me, I will make myself better and stable. Otherwise, you wait. You embrace it to such an unhealthy extent, you become hospitalized and you go back to lithium and the boring monotony of life.
I need to stop. I told a boy I would marry him last night and he took it seriously. I’m doing things I wouldn’t do. I need to have professional help again. Never forget, THERE IS NO SHAME IN ASKING FOR HELP, EVER, EVER EVER. I love life but this is going to die hard and fast. I’m scared to go back on lithium. I love feeling the happy. At the same time, I hate the sad. I hate the mood swing, the agitation, the instability, the overwhelmingness, the stress, the unpredictability. I don’t want lithium to make me fat. I don’t want it to make me dulled out. I have energy, I don’t want to lose it. I believe my energy attracts people to me. And who doesn’t want to be liked?
My dream career, I want to do something to help people who are bipolar. I want to be a voice, be a spokes person. I’m not *usually* afraid of speaking in front of crowds (depends on the topic) but there is a stigma surrounding us and it’s a huge problem. Boston is a mecca for medicine. And I promise to all of my mental health survivors and thrivers, I’m going to find a way to make my impact and make my difference on the mental health community. It is not fair to us. We shouldn’t be ashamed, we shouldn’t feel neglected and we shouldn’t hide when we are suffering because of the environment we are in. If you ever feel alone, know that there is someone out there who feels what you feel. We are all together. We are all in this together and we will fight through it, together as one community.
The one thing I think about, all the time, is every single person on this planet has a high chance of knowing someone with bipolar disorder.
The rude person next to you in line at target because you’re agitated. Your own parent who can’t be patient with you. You’re classmate who can’t tolerate that you’re late for a group project. They judge you, they make you feel lesser but they don’t know. And we can’t hate them for it. We shouldn’t hate them. We should forgive. We have to accept their perspective for the moment, and we have to shed light on the fact that so many people in this world associate with someone who has bipolar disorder.
And because of that, there needs to be more of an awareness, more of an acceptance. Education on mental illness is the priority. I’m getting older, I’m becoming more independent, but this diagnosis is defining my life more and more and I won’t let it. I learn that I’m making my own money, but do I tell my employer I have a disability? There are a lot of choices and options as you become more involved in society. (SIDE NOTE, with D TRUMP as Pres Elect, this may not be accurate).
This is my very short side note that will be a new blog post but I work in plastic surgery. I work in the medical department that is cosmetic and the complete opposite of mental health which is 100% urgent, necessary etc. I see patients who need their noses fixed or their boobs bigger, women with botox, men who need their “man boobs removed”.
We do transgender surgery, something personal to my life an another blog post. But also another huge situation and in the cases of patients who have “inpatient experiences” it’s a dramatic scene in the office. I silently identity and I silently pray for the patient. I know the feeling of being in the hospital and the suffering of a mental illness. Being in a plastic surgeon’s office can be an extremely humbling, insightful and amazing experience. I will share elaborate thoughts on that another day. But for right now, I hope everyone stays safe. The holiday season can be tough on every single person, it’s okay to feel sad, lonely, mad, frustrated.
If you have a mental illness, you may feel pressured to have the perfect dinner, you may be pressure to give amazing gifts, you may feel pressured to look a certain way. If you don’t think you can live up to that fake standard, don’t do it! You do what makes you feel best. You’re feelings about anything are true and feelings must be validated. If you are having a great holiday with an amazing support system then I hope you feel blessed and I hope you can share that feeling with others around you.
If you read this entire, long long long post, thank you! I love you. Each and every one of my followers and readers and strangers and I truly pray/wish/hope for the best for everyone, in whatever way that your happiness comes to you. We all come in different shapes, sizes, appearances, backgrounds and it doesn’t mean anything about what we experience in our heads. We all deserve to be happy. We all need to live in a safe world and we all need to be surrounded by validation and love. Never let anyone make you feel less of yourself. Never let anyone make you feel like you’re not enough. You are enough. You can do anything you put your mind to and you are ALWAYS stronger than you think.
This will gif always resonate with me and I hope it will with you too.
Lets make these last few days of 2016 count am I right?! Cheers to the end of 2016 and lets pray for an amazing 2017! I know we can do it!