So much has happened, I hardly know where to start. In the last 6 weeks, I:
….all while working my job and trying to live with a really nasty bout of suicidal thoughts and depression clinging to my back like some creature in a horror movie.
My brain tells me that I don't matter, all day and all night. My body won't respond to the medication in the ways anyone thinks it should. It gives me every last side effect, so I know it's doing something, just not what we want it to. All the time, voices say “You're worthless”, “Everyone hates you, especially your husband”, “Your family wishes you'd go away and stop bothering them”, “Just kill yourself”, “Make everyone else's lives easier and die. Then they won't have to deal with this anymore.”
On good days, it's a white noise at the back of my head.
On bad days, it screams so loudly that I need to ask people to repeat themselves; I can't hear them over the noise. There have been a lot of bad days in the last 4 weeks.
The good news is I have the tools to battle this, even when I think I don't. I tend to forget that I have the tools; that's the depression doing its thing. Then I think the tools don't matter; that's the suicidal thinking doing its thing. But tools exist nonetheless! They come in the form of friends saying hi or checking in, a parent accompanying me to an event, a spouse holding me close when I need it, the “choir family” at church giving me hugs and encouragement.
I need to hold the loving tools close, encased in a toolbox of strength and courage, slung over my shoulder to defeat the creature on my back.
The most important skill that all of these other tools brings to the fore is to KEEP GOING. Even through this latest set of trials, I will continue to kick ass and take names. Even when my disorder tries to suck the will to live from my body, I will keep getting out of bed and getting dressed. I'll keep taking the medication and trying new things. I will push and claw and scratch my way to wellness.
I will play the undaunted warrior.
I will be me.
- gave a presentation on my life with Bipolar Disorder for PLM staff
- rehearsed and sang all of Holy Week
- helped to get a book including some of my work published
- went to Washington D.C. for a big patient data event where I sang and took part in discussions
- came home to a whirlwind of family gatherings and babysitting
- had a great conversation with a cast about mental illness and the show “Next to Normal”
….all while working my job and trying to live with a really nasty bout of suicidal thoughts and depression clinging to my back like some creature in a horror movie.
My brain tells me that I don't matter, all day and all night. My body won't respond to the medication in the ways anyone thinks it should. It gives me every last side effect, so I know it's doing something, just not what we want it to. All the time, voices say “You're worthless”, “Everyone hates you, especially your husband”, “Your family wishes you'd go away and stop bothering them”, “Just kill yourself”, “Make everyone else's lives easier and die. Then they won't have to deal with this anymore.”
On good days, it's a white noise at the back of my head.
On bad days, it screams so loudly that I need to ask people to repeat themselves; I can't hear them over the noise. There have been a lot of bad days in the last 4 weeks.
The good news is I have the tools to battle this, even when I think I don't. I tend to forget that I have the tools; that's the depression doing its thing. Then I think the tools don't matter; that's the suicidal thinking doing its thing. But tools exist nonetheless! They come in the form of friends saying hi or checking in, a parent accompanying me to an event, a spouse holding me close when I need it, the “choir family” at church giving me hugs and encouragement.
I need to hold the loving tools close, encased in a toolbox of strength and courage, slung over my shoulder to defeat the creature on my back.
The most important skill that all of these other tools brings to the fore is to KEEP GOING. Even through this latest set of trials, I will continue to kick ass and take names. Even when my disorder tries to suck the will to live from my body, I will keep getting out of bed and getting dressed. I'll keep taking the medication and trying new things. I will push and claw and scratch my way to wellness.
I will play the undaunted warrior.
I will be me.
