10 June 2016
A mental illness bomb went off in my life. Before that happened I could tell people that I was: A wife to an amazing husband. Homeschooling mom to seven children. Returned missionary for my church. Day Care Provider. Chemical Engineer. Primary Teacher.
I don't want to post all my drama on my family blog for family and friends to whisper behind my back. This is going to be unconnected to my other blogs, so if you find this...congratulations.
I am
What does it mean? It means that not only am I bipolar, which is FUCKTABULOUS, it means that I've had a psychotic episode. It was September 28, 2015. The day after the super moon lunar eclipse.
I remember. Not all of it. But the parts that I do come back I re-live as a spectator OVER and OVER and OVER. I'm so embarrassed that I can't even stand myself. My family still loves and accepts me. Most of my friends don't know, but the ones who do, love me. The ones that I've told anyway.
But there are people who talk about it behind my back. I feel naked and completely vulnerable and so incredibly debilitated.
Everyone that's been gossiped to feel uncomfortable around me. The problem is, I don't know what's been said or to who. That's a fun Easter grenade hunt.
So if you're here because you just happened to stumble across this blog, or because you're bipolar too (hugs...seriously. HUGS) I will be chronicling my delusions, my episode, my confusion, my darkness and hopefully my path back into the light.
Welcome to the nightmare. Welcome to my healing. Welcome. I am bipolar.
A mental illness bomb went off in my life. Before that happened I could tell people that I was: A wife to an amazing husband. Homeschooling mom to seven children. Returned missionary for my church. Day Care Provider. Chemical Engineer. Primary Teacher.
Not. Any. More.
I don't want to post all my drama on my family blog for family and friends to whisper behind my back. This is going to be unconnected to my other blogs, so if you find this...congratulations.
I am
Bipolar One
That's my fun new label.
What does it mean? It means that not only am I bipolar, which is FUCKTABULOUS, it means that I've had a psychotic episode. It was September 28, 2015. The day after the super moon lunar eclipse.
I remember. Not all of it. But the parts that I do come back I re-live as a spectator OVER and OVER and OVER. I'm so embarrassed that I can't even stand myself. My family still loves and accepts me. Most of my friends don't know, but the ones who do, love me. The ones that I've told anyway. But there are people who talk about it behind my back. I feel naked and completely vulnerable and so incredibly debilitated.
Everyone that's been gossiped to feel uncomfortable around me. The problem is, I don't know what's been said or to who. That's a fun Easter grenade hunt.
So if you're here because you just happened to stumble across this blog, or because you're bipolar too (hugs...seriously. HUGS) I will be chronicling my delusions, my episode, my confusion, my darkness and hopefully my path back into the light.
Welcome to the nightmare. Welcome to my healing. Welcome. I am bipolar.
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