… we’d grab ours back.” Regina Brett said it best. While I love all inspirational quotes, this one always seems relatable – no matter what is going on in life. It always brings me back to a memory I have from several years ago, a memory that perfectly parallels this positive line.

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Although i love to read positive posts and inspirational quotes…living with BP and having been on the worst journey over the last 4 months…it is so disheartening to hear people just want us to just get over it or feel happy…it doesn’t work that way for us…to know there are so many like us out there gives me hope…i just hate the stigma and being a teacher having to be quiet about it.

I first experienced depression in early teens. By my early 20’s I ended up in a psych hospital and by my late 20’s I ended up twice in the hospital because of talks of suicide.

I believe the love and prayers of family and friends helped me in my battle with depression,and general anxiety disorder. Plus moments of psychosis.

Feeding myself with positive quotes were and still are helpful. Learning how to forgive myself and others was also needed. We are all connected and love and understanding is what is needed for all who struggle with mental illness and for all.

“I think knowing what you cannot do is more important than knowing what you can.” – Lucille Ball

There are a lot of quotes about knowing your limits that posit the notion that those limits are then a new baseline for the inevitable growth that comes with self-awareness. It’s the more appealing option, of course. Thinking you’re only going to get better in the future is the basis of business for self-help books, diet plans, and gyms. There are no seminars on just staying where you are. You can change; you can surpass limits.

Except that’s not what limits means. It means the end. No matter how increasingly nebulous the edge of the universe becomes, there is still an edge. I know my limits. I know what I can and can’t do. And while I think there is always room for self help, it’s also important to know what you should just let go.

I had back surgery in 2012 and at about 4:00 AM, the nurse said I had to empty my bladder before the doctor saw me in a few hours. I said, great, unhook me from these excellent drugs and I’ll pop in the loo. With the carefree nature of someone who got to pee in toilets, the nurse laughed. She handed me the bedpan. I said, “I won’t be able to go in this.”

She’s heard that before. (Probably) no one really enjoys going in a bedpan. She said that everyone says that until the catheter’s brought out (a straight catheter, because I had not planned on staying the night and therefore forgot to bring my own).

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Some days I forget. I forget the pain I’ve endured and the suffering I’ve been through, but not for long because I always have my little reminders. Not only do I have literal scars and flashbacks. I’ll always have those pills to take, the constant reminders of my journey. So for a brief moment when everything seems normal, I reach for my lithium as a reminder of who I am. At the end of the day that’s the reality, my disorder does not define me but it’s a huge part of my being. So much of who I am is being bipolar. 

For years, I hated it. I rejected it because I was so completely repulsed by its very being. It was as though bipolar disorder had scorned me in some way. And I understand. It hasn’t always been kind to me, but the truth is, it never hurt me. But the way I hated it. We had a lot to overcome and work through to have the relationship we have today; but it wasn’t easy. I knew though if I didn’t commit to it, I would regret it. Years later, I’m glad I did. I am glad I learned to love it. I am glad I learned to accept it. It’s been better for both of us, to learn to coexist.

This doesn’t mean it hasn’t been without hardship. I still struggle. Nothing about living with a mental illness is easy. It took years for me to get to this point and still I wonder why me? Nothing about it seems fair. I have accepted so much: the uncontrollable tears, sleepless nights aching in anxiety and thoughts racing a mile a minute. After six inpatient stays, I still have unanswered questions and moments when I feel completely unstable wondering if I will ever be ok. It’s frustrating because happiness seems like a luxury that isn’t guaranteed for everyone; these days I just pray for serenity.

As a little girl, like most children, I dreamt of what my life would be like and I feel so incredibly disappointed. I know I should feel blessed that I am relatively healthy and blessed in so many other ways but to be completely honest, this isn’t the life I envisioned for myself. I want to be stronger but I don’t know how; I want to be better but I don’t even know what I mean when I say that. As people, we are never where we want to be in life. And that’s exactly where I am, trying to acknowledge my strengths but still only able to focus on my weaknesses. 

It’s hard for me not to feel inferior; I come from a culture where mental illness is so incredibly stigmatized. I grew up feeling defective for being bipolar and having to take medication, as if no one would ever accept me for my illness, let alone that I would accept myself. Yet, here I am, years later, full of pride and acceptance, extremely honored to have walked the path I have. Each milestone I have achieved has been a battle I have won. I never thought I’d reach this moment. As a young 16 year old girl being diagnosed, I didn’t think it was possible to be proud to be bipolar. To have reached this milestone and achieved this level of acceptance is by far my greatest accomplishment. I went from not even knowing, let alone understanding bipolar disorder to fully accepting and loving my disorder. 

I say often I love my disorder and I think that confuses some. When I say I love my disorder it’s because it’s a part of me and who I am. I might not love all the things being bipolar has put me through but I love the person it’s made me become and for that I will forever be grateful. I do consider myself blessed. This might not be the life I envisioned or wanted for myself but it is the life I have. Each day, I am learning to fall more and more in love with it, for it is one that I can not change. That is acceptance.

I don’t read the news because it is a major trigger for my PTSD. Let me explain.

A lot of news involves sexual abuse/rape/molestation. I was sexually abused at the age of 18. I have been having disturbing nightmares and memories about the sexual abuse. I also avoid all reminders and thoughts of the sexual abuse while simultaneously having trouble remembering parts of it. I feel guilty, panicky and angry/irritable, and I blame myself for the abuse, on top of it I feel like a bad person for not reading the news. I feel on guard a lot. My friend wonders why I don’t read the news, well, this is why. I’d rather play video games all day than read the news and have a panic attack. Generally I cope by playing video games or drawing. Meditation if necessary. Sorry if this is short.

I am diagnosed with schizophrenia paranoid type, a diagnosis I shared with my mother, who died 10 years ago.  There are memories of a difficult and traumatic childhood and young adulthood, growing up with a single mother who, non-compliant with treatment, was 90% of the time, psychotic.  At fifteen, I came to Milwaukee to live with my father, a successful IBM National Accounts Manager.

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I had intended on writing my first story in a completely different manner, but right now I am so frustrated and angry I can’t see straight.

I am the mother of three adult sons, ages 46, 32, and 28, married to the the father of two sons, for 33 years. I live in Wisconsin, while the oldest lives in Florida with his 10-year-old daughter (my grandchild), whom I have NEVER even met. I have not seen him in 13 years. 

Son #2 is living at home, doesn’t work, nor contributes toward the household financially and depending on ‘his highnesses’ mood, he might take out the garbage.

Son #3, is living with his girlfriend, works and has potential. However, he also has a nasty mean streak and if I misunderstand something, say something he thinks is stupid, etc. etc. his nose gets out of joint and all bets are off.

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