Once, sometime ago, when I was in another low spot much like where I have been recently, My SIL, she of the butterfly wisdom said to me something that I have carried with me every day since;
It won’t always be this way.
That statement right there did more to give me hope, then anything else I had heard. She didn’t say it would be better tomorrow or it’s not so bad, or any of the other many things that are easy enough to say to someone who is depressed, and sound nice and are meant well.
Just, it won’t always be this way.
It doesn’t promise that you will feel better, just that it will change. But to some, in the lowest point of the bottom of the well, with the darkness heavy about them, the only choice is to believe it will change for the better, and even if there is a way to imagine worse, anything is better than the same as it is today.
It is the promise of relief, of moving, of not being stuck, trapped, helpless in the darkness, running to stand still.
And from that place, if your brain can imagine a better place, than you have found hope, a reason to live, a reason to stick around, no matter how painful, to see what the next day will bring.
Of course that also works the other way too. The times of contented bliss, may not last forever just the way they are today, and instead of losing hope when I am happy and remind myself of that, it causes me to take notice, and feel as much of the joy, and live each moment, and have a grateful heart.
A few weeks ago I was content with my life. Things weren’t perfect but I didn’t have much that bothered me either. I felt stable and optimistic.
Then something happened. I don’t know exactly what … nothing happened to trigger me emotionally, I just tripped. I guess since this lovely mental disorder I have is a, or causes a, or is caused by a, chemical imbalance in my brain, that maybe things got out of whack. Yes, there were signs. But I had no idea it would go this far.
In the past when I have had my dark days, I haven’t written much. If you looked at a calendar, you would see that about once every couple of months, I have missed from 3 to a bunch more days. Those times were just because … well I am not sure why, if I didn’t feel like writing or couldn’t or what but since I have decided that showing people there is a positive side to bipolar disorder, I got it stuck in my head that I should not show the side of it that isn’t positive.
Going with that, and the fact that I happened to be trying to at least do my job right, I skipped a day, then another. I wasn’t worried I always bounced back. Couple of days and all would be fine.
That was over three weeks ago. For awhile I thought I just had nothing to say anymore. Ha ha. The few days that I had time to focus on writing for here, I couldn’t come up with a thing. Nothing, nada, zilch.
Then I got scared. What if I could never come up with something again? What if this had run its course, like so many other things I have tried, and applied myself to with a humongous concentrated power of will then one day, just lost interest?
At some point I realized that it wasn’t about not having anything to say. I had written plenty. Emails that I have gone back and looked at are full all kinds of …stuff. Of course there was work and I guess at some point I realized that if I could still do that then it wasn’t about not being able to write. I have a harder time. A little brain fog and I can’t find words as easily, sometimes in the middle of something I just go off on a tangent, but that part is pretty much normal.
I guess after that I was just waiting for the happy, optimistic me to come back. I think after realizing that I had written quite a bit, I didn’t think it suitable for printing. Why? Because it was about what I came here to get away from. Not to deny or pretend it isn’t there, but to find the silver lining, to prove there was one. In the past, I bounced back pretty quick. I didn’t want you to see this side of me.
This has been going on for almost a month. I am better than I was two weeks ago. Probably more in a mixed state, symptoms of both depression and mania at once, which is better and not better at the same time. I know, confusing.
It occurs to me that I am at a point where if I don’t get back on the horse, ready or not, I may end up abandoning this journey. I don’t want to. I want to be here. This is where I belong.
And truly, to think I can be positive every single day, or skip out when I am not and no one would notice? I realize that in my quest to bring the positive out of this disorder, I could probably have more impact if you saw the flip side every once in a while.
You won’t know what I overcome if you don’t see where I come from.
I still have all the negatives of bipolar disorder. Yes, I handle them much better than I used to because I changed my outlook. I refuse to live my life every day thinking poor me, I am doomed, and dwelling on the …crap. But sometimes that is where my mind takes me because that is all it can do.
And there is some good here. I am still creative, just in a different way.
Given the choice of waiting it out, who knows how long, giving it up, or coming back on here and showing my angry, defiant, depressed, hurting side, I choose to come back. I have to.
So please, stick with me if I don’t seem my normal happy self. I tend to get a little cynical, maybe a little sensitive. I may avoid things for a while, such as the comments on Going Under, just because I need to not be there for the moment, but I am here. And I am me.
This is the other part of me.
Good, bad, indifferent, this is who I am. And I am writing about where I am at. No more hiding when I am not happy. No more waiting it out. I will be here and for all of you reading who may find it painful, or sad, or not what you have come to expect from me, just remember,
It won’t always be this way…
Lizzie Cracked.. never broken