Accepting a New Reality: Part 1

  • BLOG
  • March 13, 2019

With bipolar, you can be healed but never cured – save a miracle. You can be healed from an incident or an event, but you always know you may have another. So you can never quite be free. Underneath lies an anxiety, a fear, a state of alertness, anticipating the next event.

We need to keep our coping skills sharp, tuned up, and our toolbox ready, employing them at the first signs of trouble. We need to maintain our self-care routine to head off as many problems as possible. Because recovery from an episode is time-consuming and demoralizing.

I have two sisters. Two younger sisters. Both are high energy and high achievers in their creative ventures.

One recently sold pretty much everything she had and moved to Mexico with her husband for an undetermined amount of time. She continues to do vocal recording long-distance, while building an internet business, and exploring her new surroundings, recording video as she goes.

My other sister is busy homeschooling her ten year old while continuing to be available to her two daughters who have graduated from college. She also repaints furniture to sell, redecorates her home, making new curtains, sewing pillows that coordinate perfectly. She also serves at church – providing food and exquisite floral creations for events and gatherings, attending Bible studies, and taking her turn at nursery duty. She hosts Bible study in her home, whips up exotic meals with ease, and mass produces rustic decor for craft shows. And she still makes time to care for those she loves, rolling up her sleeves to help where she can.

And then there’s me. With bursts of energy and big intentions. Goal-setting and planning, strategizing and even, sometimes, dreaming of adventure. New commitments to new routines that will keep me well and keep me on track. And that works – at least for a little while.

But then a piece or two of the routine slip, not out of laziness or indifference, but maybe because of a change in the schedule or unusual demands that interrupt the plan.

A slip here. A missed action there. A husband’s need. An opportunity to connect with my daughter while she is back home with us for a short time.

And then the game of catch-up or beat-up. The game of catch-up: trying to return to missed activities on the list. Or the game of beat-up: for failures, that again, I didn’t get it “right,” adding to my imperfect track record.

Part 2

Welcome
I am a 57 year old woman, raised by an undiagnosed mother on the spectrum. At 12 I developed bipolar II disorder but was not diagnosed until I was 50. At 30, I had a son whose father dropped out of the picture when I was seven weeks pregnant. I met my husband when my son was 4-1/2 months old and we were married 17 months later; our daughter was born 18 months after that. We had a great life raising the kids, going to church, being involved in the community. My husband was always loving, patient, and kind. Twenty years later, our kids were grown. What we didn’t know was that the bipolar II disorder that started when I was 12 and, that went undiagnosed and untreated, was worsening. A pile of life stressors led to a serious bipolar episode, an illegal affair with a prison inmate, a suicide attempt, (finally) a correct diagnosis and appropriate treatment, and felony charges with a potential of 100 years in prison. This blog traces my journey, sharing my experience, insights gained looking back on 50 years that hadn’t made sense, and tools used in recovery. I hope that this will provide encouragement, insight, and tools to help others traveling a similar path. I'm Sherrill and this is my journey.

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