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Don’t Shame Me for Seeking Help

🚩⚠️ Trigger Warning⚠️🚩

This is my Threefold. This is my threefold. That’s the resounding thought in my head as I sit scared out of my mind because # 3 of my threefold {my youngest daughter age 10} is currently alone in a strange bed. She was admitted early yesterday morning to the psychiatric children’s wing. I am beside myself with anxiety. She is only 10. I can’t be with my baby. This is too surreal. This can’t be happening…again. I’m not ready and she is too little. She’s just a child. She is my baby.

If you have been following for a while you’ll recall my post regarding #2 🚩⚠️ My Child is NOT Attention Seeking. My Child is Seeking Help 🚩⚠️ trigger warning ⚠️🚩 {please do not click this link if you are triggered by self harm or content pertaining to suicide.} this post described my experience with admitting #2 of my threefold {my middle daughter, 13} to a crisis intervention center. Here I am again speaking about the same content and a different kid. I am dealing with the same situation. I guess this is just another day in the life of the trauma drama bipolar momma bear. I am Mommin’ mental illness. I’m here to tell you, this job is hard. I’m not prepared or I’m overly prepared. Either way, this is the really hard part about being a mom. Getting help when you start realizing that you are not able to give your own child the help they need. The worst part is watching them suffer through the pain of their mental illness. They are too young to understand what is happening.

#3 has had a really rough time trying to adapt to my divorce. She is the youngest of my girls and was only 8 when I left her dad. She had begun acting out more prior to the separation. She was running away, displaying anger and struggling dealing with the pandemic. Virtual schooling, lack of interaction with peers and isolation only compounded the underlying issues that were left untreated. I’m sure this is true for a lot of children. I attributed many of her symptoms to the ‘Covid Crazy’ diagnosis. {My personal term for what we were all experiencing during the shutdown}

I was wrong. Her grades fell dramatically with virtual school. I left my husband. I couldn’t continue watching my threefold and I suffer from the actions and inactions of my ex. I needed to get out of that toxic cycle and show my threefold another way. Pro tip: don’t marry a narcissist and if you’re already in that relationship…LEAVE.

#3 had no help with school and with untreated ADHD it was nearly impossible to keep her in her room or in the living room with a laptop listening to some teacher talk about things that were of no interest to her. It was torture for all of my threefold, but she was in 2nd grade and lacked any self-discipline. It was obvious she was missing fundamental learning. It wasn’t until later I would realize that her education had been hijacked and her foundation building years of reading, comprehension, writing and math were stolen from her when her education went virtual during 2nd and 3rd grade.

When I left my ex, I sought therapy for my children and I. I was aware that my divorce would have a massive impact on their mental health {no diagnoses for my threefold yet other than #2, who was diagnosed with ODD and ADHD at the time which was untreated} I knew I would also need a sounding board myself to vent my frustrations and work through my personal feelings on leaving that relationship and the implications that decision would have on my threefold. We have maintained that therapy throughout these past couple of years. This led to psychiatric evaluations and medication therapies to help my threefold and I balance out our brain chemistry.

My threefold did deteriorate more post separation, but for reasons that I didn’t expect. I was right. They had needed treatment and therapy earlier, but due to my own untreated mental illness and the psychological abuse we endured, we swept our issues under the rug. They had needed help for years, but we all were too scared to ask for it. We knew how that conversation would end. A dad-diagnosis and more hell to deal with. It wasn’t until I got them help and they were safe to express how they always had felt that the trauma begun to unravel and the symptoms became more prevalent. They had been forcing themselves to cover the mental illness as a way to keep the peace in our unstable lives. I will forever have guilt over not seeking help and leaving sooner.

Currently, #3 is diagnosed as having depression, ADHD and Oppositional Defiance Disorder. I am familiar with the nuances of these diagnoses. I’m sure ODD will change into disruptive mood dysregulation disorder {DMDD} but what I don’t know for sure is if she will be saddled with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder that her sisters and I have been told we suffer from. At her age, that is unlikely even if she is presenting at this age just as #2 did. Same diagnoses and same behaviors. I should’ve known this would happen. I was in denial that all of my threefold would be cursed with my genetics. what I hadn’t prepared for was how difficult it would be to see my threefold spiral into periods of depression that make them feel like they need to hurt or even delete themselves to fix their problems. Life isn’t supposed to be this hard at ten, thirteen or seventeen.

#3 is a spunky girl who loves riding her bike, playing outside, jumping rope, TikTok, martial arts, doing crafts and stitch {from the Disney movie.} She has a hard time with making friends, because she is extremely bossy and territorial. She isn’t scared of a fight. She is pretty aggressive when she is upset and angry. Punching, hitting, kicking, throwing and screaming are her go to behavior when she gets upset. She is destructive when she is angry. These reactions and outbursts are mostly disproportionate to the situation. A simple request for her to go to bed, take medication, clean a mess or her room, and going to school can spiral into a knock down drag out fight from #3. Then after the aggression is the comedown. Tears, guilt, shame and regret mark the feelings from the fallout. It’s hard to parent, but I can only imagine it’s harder for her to understand what is happening inside her brain. She ends up feeling like she is just a bad kid, that this is just how she will always feel, she can’t be helped, and that she would be better off if she was no longer here.

These past couple of years have been quite the ride on the bipolar express. From #2’s struggles for nearly a year to help her get back on recovery road. A lot of issues with #1. More therapy hours than I can count and a million other issues that have come up 2021 was a hell of a ride. I was looking forward to a bit of peace and to be swimming in calmer waters. Instead I’m back to drowning.

I guess because I knew what to expect after the inpatient treatments that #2 underwent that I would be better equipped to handle #3’s admission. It’s strange, but this time it’s worse than before. Before I didn’t know how difficult that road to recovery would be. I didn’t know what I was up against. I was forced to take the uncertainty and roll with it. Sometimes it rolled over me, but I made it. More importantly #2 made it. This time is different.

I am more anxious now knowing what happens when your child goes to inpatient care. I know now that it’s a long and hard process. I know now that quick fixes don’t exist. I know this next week or two will not be the only time we need a higher level of care. I am uniquely familiar with the amount of time and energy that will be needed to make sure we are getting help. More than anything else, I know the toll it will take on my threefold and I as we walk this path again. I know that we could have the domino effect that results in relapse. This all makes me even more scared.

Before you go to judging my child and I let me tell you some facts. ADHD and ODD are marked by impulsive behavior and an inability to regulate emotions properly. My daughter doesn’t need to have ‘her ass beat’ or ‘taught a lesson’. She doesn’t need to be told, nor I that she is ‘a brat’, ‘a terrorist’, ‘spoiled’, or that she is ‘attention seeking’. She is not going to get better by being told how bad she is. I’m not going to parent better because I’m told that I’m screwing it up or how this is my fault. I am perfectly capable of beating myself up, I definitely don’t need the outside help with that.

I am sure there are a million things that I could do differently, but the fact that my child will suffer from mental illness won’t change. Fun fact. My parenting didn’t cause my child to have a mental illness, my genetics did. I’m positive that my actions and reactions can exacerbate her symptoms if I don’t handle it properly. I will be the first to admit that I have mishandled and missed the mark on occasion while mommin’ mental illness. After all, my handbook on the rules of parenting was just as nonexistent as yours.

I have sat patiently and responded with calmness while being screamed at by my own child about how much she hates me and wished I was dead. I’ve been cursed at, kicked, hit at, and had things thrown at me. I’ve questioned my own parenting skills and abilities to manage my threefold’s mental illness. I’ve held my child after her outburst and told her it would be ok as she cried and apologized. I’ve taken tv’s, tablets, social outings, and the millions of other things she enjoys. She doesn’t care. She will tell you herself that those consequences don’t phase her or make her want to try to better. I get notes home from school about behavior and lack of effort. She doesn’t care. She has been in therapy for 18 months but I can’t make her participate or use the skills. It doesn’t work for her. Not when she is emotional and can’t regulate those emotions. She just does, without thoughts of how it will work out later. If you remind her of the consequences she will scream that she doesn’t care. So you can tell me I’m not hard enough on her. What do you do when hard doesn’t work, soft doesn’t work, and suddenly it’s like a ticking time bomb you know could go off at any time and you can’t change it?

I’ve tried everything from attention to ignoring, rewards and consequences, behavior charts, parenting coaches, family sessions and a million other things. I’m not sitting back just hoping this phase of life is just that, a phase. I need to find a solution but I need help. I can admit that. I can see this is beyond my own abilities. I don’t offer the help she needs. It’s time for drastic measures. Even if that wasn’t what I wanted to admit. Even if I tried amongst the recommended higher level of care. I just didn’t want this for her, not this young.

For those that are thinking I couldn’t handle my child and dropped her off at a facility to allow someone else to fix this problem for me. Think again. I was told she would need to be assessed before she could return to school after she had an outburst in class because she was frustrated with feelings of not doing an assignment correctly. It wasn’t by choice that I was in that same waiting room with #3 as I had been with #2 only 15 months prior shortly after this whole journey began. It was not my intention to to have my daughter admitted for defiant behaviors followed by suicidal ideation. Mental illness doesn’t discriminate based on age, it only presents differently. I knew she needed help, but I didn’t expect that they would be admitting her to the children’s unit of the psychiatric facility that my middle daughter had been a patient of during her first admission.

This battle of bedtime, cleaning up messes and reasons I couldn’t understand that seemed like nothing at all, resulted in these explosive outbursts. The behaviors have been increasing since she was 8. What once happened only a couple times per year has now been a couple of times per week for months. I didn’t throw my hands up and decide I couldn’t deal with her behavior anymore. Though believe me I’m not going to lie and say it hadn’t crossed my mind to do this or something else sooner.

I could write for hours and spit statistics at everyone and bore them with the details of the diagnoses from the clinical perspective. I don’t do that not because those facts don’t matter, but because it’s more personal and real than the statistics will give. Instead I share my personal story, the stories of my threefold. I don’t share for sympathy or for attention. I don’t share because I want people to feel sorry for us. I share our lives and our experiences because we have lived in the shadows for too long. I share because the stigma surrounding mental illnesses is that we are weak, lazy, attention seeking, and use our diagnoses as excuses. I share not to make myself or my threefold vulnerable to that type of scrutiny. I share this for the other parents caring for children suffering from mental illness who feel like they are alone in the fight. I share for the people who suffer. The isolation and the hiding our struggles doesn’t make this journey easier. I don’t want to feel like I’m not allowed to seek help for my threefold when they need it because people around me will judge me. There are too many parents who have the shame of this stigma surrounding their lives that their children are suffering silently. That shame will not make us more likely to seek help. I can only hope that sharing our story and struggles can help stomp out the stigma. We can’t keep silencing those that suffer. The stakes of that silence are too high.

Stay positive. We’ve got this ☮️❤️😊~M

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New Year…Not so New Me

Happy New Year! I’m late I know, that’s not unusual for me though. I celebrated with the two oldest of my threefold last night, ‘E’, #1’s boyfriend joined us and so did #2’s friend, ex, somebody. It’s complicated. We had a good time. We played radio roulette, ate finger foods, did year end ultimate positives and negatives, and danced. It was fun. We watched the countdown and then we all went to our corners of the house to sleep.

This morning, noon rather, I awoke and expected some sort of relief that the year before was complete. I expected to be full of inspiration and energy. I wasn’t. I was annoyed. I laid thinking of all I had to be grateful for and still I was irritated. I did my normal go outside and wake up in the peace and quiet. Think positive thoughts and wipe the funk out of my eyes. Manifest a great day. No avail.

I checked Facebook and saw the post that I had made a few days ago was getting lots of reactions and shares. Even that didn’t help my growing irritability, the headache I was developing, the tension in my shoulders and neck, or my anxiety. I couldn’t find the root cause. Why was I so edgy?

I did my best to keep to myself as I always do when my mood goes haywire. ‘E’ has been sick so as he slept the day away I worked on my content so I would have some fresh stuff to post this week. I was trying to be productive. Then my head couldn’t take the screen or the light. #1 needed a birthday gift for a party she was attending but with this headache I wasn’t going anywhere. I put her in an Uber and sent her and her boyfriend on their way. After that, I went to bed and tried to sleep away my headache and irritation.

#2 asked to go spend the night with a friend. I haven’t spent a single night, let alone more than a few hours, away from this kid since her discharge in late August. She had a compelling argument. Then again, she always does. I was reluctant and told her I would think about it. It’s been six months since she stayed with a friend. She hasn’t even asked to go stay with anyone. I agreed. It was time to give her some deserved independence and trust. I saw her off and took #1 to her party. Back home for some chill time and some take out.

I meditated before going in and got my mood a little in check. I was trying to be ok. I wanted to feel better and just chill on a child free evening that is a rarity for me. I logged into my work portal and was happy to see 80 hours of vacation time that started today. I was glad to see the few hours I had left from last year had been rolled over, even though that’s not policy. When I clicked a button to check on my year end raise I saw that I received more than the average raise I got at the end of last year. This should have been enough to make me happy, but somehow it only added to the irritation.

My night chilling without kids didn’t last because an argument ensued between’E’ and I. My already edgy irritable demeanor roared to life with the first hint of attitude. That spark grew into anger. I was pissed. Not on edge, not upset, I was full on pissed. I stormed off not even sure where I would go. All I could think was ‘I can’t believe this is how my new year starts!’ Here I was thinking it would be a magical fresh start and a clean slate and instead it’s this.

Where did I go wrong? I rang in the new year. I meditated. I manifested. I sat in gratitude. So why was I in such a shitty mood? Why was my new year starting out on the wrong foot? It wasn’t supposed to be like this! The answer is me. I’m the reason it was so jacked up. I could say it’s because I’m bipolar or that I’m PMS’ing, or the headache, or my neck. Those could all be valid reasons. They can’t excuse my irritation and explosive reaction even if those are true.

Now here I sit reflecting on my day. My first day of a new year. On my piss poor, irritated, and ungrateful attitude. I sat and wallowed in my disappointment with the day and now that disappointment has turned inward. What the hell is wrong with me? I got a raise! I have two weeks plus some paid vacation! My daughter is taking on more independence again. My other is graduating soon. I’ve got a man who won’t budge despite how hard I push him away. I have a home. My threefold and I are safe and healthy. We have so much good in our lives, yet I can’t get out of my own way to just be grateful for it. I have to snap out of it!

I’m the only person that can control my own emotions, attitude, actions, and responses. Only me. Sometimes you just have an off day. Sometimes you can’t see the good because your eyes hurt when you look at the light. Sometimes you’re just being a bitch and need to check yourself. Sometimes we let ourselves be encompassed by a little bit of bad and refuse to let the good in. Sometimes we have to let it blow up so that we can get it together. It’s not ever going to be perfect and neither am I. I won’t allow one bad day define my year. All I can do is move forward. Have a better tomorrow. Do it differently. Be positive. We’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M

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Watering Dead Plants

There is a hard truth that we find out as we get older. The truth is, not every relationship is meant to stand the test of time. Some people have expiration dates in our lives and you have to find out who is going to be your ‘ride or die’ and when it’s time to say goodbye. History is a beautiful thing to have with people. Having memories and experiences bond you, but these connections can’t be the only thing that’s keeping you tied to another person. When do we know when to let go? How do we decipher who we need to give up and those relationships worth nurturing? How many dead plants have you been watering?

This year has been an eye opener for me in many ways. Having a child who was hospitalized for 17 weeks through my family into a whirlwind of new challenges. Updating family and friends was not on my list of priorities. I was busy trying to manage my full time job, two children at home, the multiple appointments and meetings I was required to attend for treatment, education, doctor recommendations, medication adjustments etc. etc. My hectic and chaotic schedule didn’t allow for much room to relax or even relay information to the people around me. I was playing catch up at 2am, and I was pretty confident no one wanted a phone call or text at that hour to tell them our stressors and give the updates. I decided that was one thing I could take off my list. The results were pretty astonishing to me. I didn’t expect what happened next.

I continued to prioritize my threefold and myself over the course of #2’s hospitalization. I didn’t call or text anyone that was outside of our little family unit. Most days, I wouldn’t even know what day it was other than by whatever routine appointments I had each day. I was in survival mode, hypomanic and sleep was another friend I had lost contact with. I continued to write, but it mostly was ramblings and scattered snippets at 3 or 4am. After a while, my many phone conferences, zoom calls and my incessant phone calls at work made me weary of talking on the phone. The time that wasn’t spent on the phone with someone was spent with my threefold or ‘E’. Those late nights where sleep escaped me were the only time I had any time just for me.

After a while I figured if someone wanted to know what was going on with us, they would ask. I had enough going on to keep me busy, I figured I would hand them them one of my responsibilities, the only one I could take off myself. I made it a bit easier by posting a picture from visitation and updating impersonally to our ‘go fund me’ page. That was enough for some and not enough for others. It was telling for me which dead plants I had been watering without any return on my investment.

While I was busy putting all my time and energy into my family due to our current circumstances, I found out I didn’t have near as many people in my life or in my threefold’s lives that were down to ride this shitty ride with me. I also found that I had a few people who I didn’t expect to jump on our bipolar express that didn’t ask, just did. I was really hurt at how many people quickly distanced themselves from our trauma drama.

Calls and messages pretty much ceased from everyone other than my dad and my brother occasionally. Outside of those two I didn’t have anyone other than ‘E’ to vent my feelings to. I felt very isolated throughout that period. I wasn’t hiding, I was open about what was going on, but it felt like the people closest to me didn’t care, not the family members or the ‘so-called’ friends. I had more people I didn’t know reach out from my Facebook page for my threefold than my friends and family. I had more people that I had barely spoken to in years reach out to make donations and check on our family. I realized I had been too busy to water any of my relationships and so they were dying. Why was I the only one doing the watering? I needed to decide if I could revive them or if I even thought I should.

It was difficult and some people did get a piece of my mind. My ‘best friend’ and my dad were probably hit the hardest with my frustration with their seemingly lackadaisical efforts to do a simple wellness check. My ex was hit with the biggest amount of resentment for the lack of support, assistance and not checking in to see how the kids or I were making it through. Unfortunately, ‘E’ would get the unintentional and undeserving blowback that my frustration with others brought.

In the end, I decided to stop reaching out at all. I wouldn’t put forth any effort and see what happened. 2 weeks seemed like a decent marker and that’s how I applied the dead plant discarding method to my life. If I didn’t hear from someone within two weeks {dependent upon circumstances} then I needed to evaluate my continued contact with this person. If after 2 weeks they contacted me I would look at the facts and the initial message to reconnect. I decided if there was a pattern of periods where communication halted, I would look at reasoning behind the lack of communication, and I would evaluate how their absence or presence in my life made me feel. Dependent on my answers to those things I would make my decision. Most of the time, I would decide it was worth at least of conversation.

I emailed, I know informal, but it gave me a chance to think through my words and also a way to feel heard without interruption or getting sidetracked and defensive. I also felt this gave the other person time to reflect on a response instead of being emotionally reactive. It helped in some cases, others not. I am accountable to ending my effort, but if I’m the only one putting it in then it seems like a one-sided relationship. That was my thought process behind adding more distance to the fizzling flame of friendships.

I felt with the end of 2022 approaching, this would be an important message. If you have been watering dead plants in your life you can leave them in 2021. Know your worth. Don’t continue to allow yourself to be an option to people. No one needs fair weathered friends, because when the shit storm hits you need the people around you who will help you through it. Those that aren’t worth your energy will show you their true colors. Actions speak louder than words, but not near as often.

If you are not protecting your peace, who is? It is important to note we all get wrapped up in our own lives, get busy, and experience massive life changes that are all encompassing. The benefit of the doubt may be worth giving to those that have major stressors complicating their life, but it must be said that if anyone is not giving you the courtesy of communication about that then maybe you’ve fallen off of their priority list. Sometimes when you know someone is struggling you need to take the reigns on communication and check in, especially if you know that they are going through difficult times. Maybe, it’s just a plant not worth watering anymore. Guess what? That’s ok! It can either be rekindled at a later time or left in the past. Instead choose to turn the focus on your own priorities instead of dwelling on what was or could’ve been. Your energy will be best spent on yourself. The lesson remains: Don’t busy yourself watering the dead plants in your life. You’re not an option and should never allow anyone to treat you like one. Stay positive. You’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M

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Stomp out Stigma: Survey

In less than 5 minutes you could anonymously help contribute to the conversation and stigma surrounding Bipolar and other major mental illness. Or you could anonymously tell me to STFU! Either way I want to get your thoughts. Your few minutes is appreciated! Be positive! You’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/66K3QSL

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Emotional Rollercoaster

This weekend, I was all in my feelings {as my kids would’ve said probably years ago, but I’m always late.} I was emotional for reasons that made sense to me and to me alone and other reasons that made sense to those around me. I was riding my own crazy hot mess express freight train straight into bipolarville where manic episodes meet depressive ones and triggers meet emotional roller coaster rides. Then these rides travel down the roads of my feelings leading to pit stops along the way of irrational thought and anxiety, breakthroughs and breakdowns, scattered thoughts, and sanity that is single handedly fighting for the spotlight back from these conflicting mix of emotions. That’s my best description of triggered anxiety while fighting against the sleep deprivation that too much sleep from days prior brings. This complicated run-on sentence is also sponsored by mixed episodes of bipolar disorder.

People hear more often about the depressive episodes and the manic episodes that are famous for the original manic depression name of bipolar depression’s previous identifier. When a person says ‘mood disorder’ this is the usually what people think of. Most don’t know the different types of mood disorders nor the different types of Bipolar that a person can have. They don’t understand the nuances of the disease and they tend to mix up facts due to the stigma placed on bipolar disorder.

Episodic cycling is what makes Bipolar different from other mood disorders. Episodes often range in severity and length of time depending on treatment and type of bipolar disorder a person is diagnosed with. I experience mixed episodes with my bipolar which is characterized by having a more often cycling of symptoms that can overlap each other, have symptoms of both mania and depression simultaneously and a lack of recovery period before the opposite cycle begins. This type and cyclomathic bipolar are two types that are difficult to spot and diagnose due to the more rapid cycling process that characterizes each disorder. This is due to the length of episode which means that a person experiencing both mania and depression in rapid succession might have severe depressive symptoms that overshadow the manic symptoms that are more likely missed.

Bipolar I (which #2 of my threefold is suspected of having) is the more intense presence of mania symptoms than Bipolar II. Bipolar II (what #1 of my threefold has been diagnosed with), is considered less severe as type 1. Type 2 presents with less intense symptoms of manic involvement, their manic episodes are decreased and termed as hypo manic.

Most people, including myself, are quicker to dismiss mania symptoms because it’s almost like a reprieve from the depression that is all consuming. Mania doesn’t always seem as bad as it is. It seems like that is what people love to see. Mania makes you feel on top of the world, confident, brilliant and you have an energy that makes you so on the go. Manic symptoms seem harmless but that is untrue. It involves risky behavior, recklessness, and makes a person not care about the consequences of those actions. You may suddenly spend all your money on unnecessary items. Maybe it looks like sexual promiscuity or infidelity. It can show up as aggression and stealing. It is a myriad of bad behaviors that are almost like the person has no care on the world and is invincible. Mania is much less recognizable in the hypo manic episodes also. The depression is so much easier to pinpoint and the main reason why people find that depressive diagnosis easier than that of bipolar.

The depressive symptoms of each are similar in severity and the lengths of time vary from person to person. The manic episodes are the determining factor of defining bipolar instead of major depression which is unipolar with or without mania involvement. Depression presents in the classic ways with one major distinction that is more likely to point to bipolar. This major differentiation is in that episodic nature of bipolar. No manic symptoms would lead to a diagnosis of depression. You only need to have had one manic episode to have a diagnosis of bipolar. If it’s missed or mistaken as something else then you leave likelihood of reporting those symptoms is likely to be the key that changes the treatment plan from one that isn’t working to one that will work.

There is so much stigma surrounding bipolar which is why those who suffer tend to hide their illness from the people around them. It’s why people don’t accept the diagnose easily or seek treatment for themselves. It’s also tricky to diagnose and most doctors aren’t quick to do so. It’s genetic with a high probability of family links. This is why it’s not unheard of or unusual to have bipolar diagnoses in multiple generations of a family tree. If an adult has an established diagnosis in a family then it is much easier to begin seeing signs and symptoms at an earlier age and begin treatment earlier than it is to diagnose in an adult who has never expressed the symptoms they displayed in an accurate way or suffered from the more severe complications or consequences that this disorder brings on.

My emotional state was brought on more from lack of sleep after having too much sleep this past week, an increase in anxiety and a lot of nostalgia as #1 of my threefold prepares for high school graduation, college, and turning 18. However due to our struggles, my threefold is hyper aware of the slight changes of behavioral patterns and moods than the average teenagers. It also has come from some process work I have been doing on that little {enter sarcasm} goal of moving on from my mom guilt from the past and from the person I was when my bipolar was left untreated for years on end. I have also been working on this small issue I’ve had with holding grudges, resentment, and forgiveness. {Actually I’m the worst about if you hurt me I will remember forever.}

Thankfully I’m not actually in an episode of mania or depression currently and am on a regimen of medication that helps to prevent that cycling of intense episodes. I know my triggers, how to care for myself, my symptoms and my plan of action in the event of severe episodes. It’s very {knock on wood and glass!} calm in the unpredictable waters of bipolar at my house right now. It’s been a breath of fresh air after the year of drowning in crisis after crisis that in the present moment storms aren’t raging through the waters and everyone is safely wading in the shallow end. In less metaphorical terms for the first time in years no one is amidst an episode at the current moment and no one is in crisis. That is a beautiful thing in a life of a mom with bipolar with kids with bipolar that is hard for people to understand. Why would I celebrate us just being okayish?

Being ok for us, all at the same time, means medication changes and adjustments have ceased because we have a regimen that is working for us and consists of tweaks not new meds to find the combination that works. It is a celebration of a taste of stability not normalcy. It is a celebration of growth and progress. It’s being excited to track your mood because you have seen marked improvement. It’s a time where we can accomplish goals and we can be proud of ourselves. It also means we are in self harm recovery {another thing people don’t understand why we celebrate.}

Recovery from self harm is like that of addiction and just like you would celebrate milestones of someone who hasn’t had a drink in six weeks we celebrate the same milestones for self harm. It’s been over a year since #1 self harmed, nearly 6 months for #2, and for me {yep I’ve been there too} it’s been multiple years. These milestones mean that medications {and awareness of the consequences} therapy, and our own ability to safely communicate our feelings have come to a healthy meeting place. That is something worth celebrating at my house.

Thanks for attending my ted talk on bipolar disorder and it’s presentation. It’s a hot topic discussion that no one seems to want to talk about. For those unaffected it seems to have the lack of education almost like why learn about something that you have no use for? Like learning to do wood working when you have no interest in craftsmanship and no plans to ever use the skills. I find it important for even those unaffected because the informative awareness can help assist a friend or a family member distinguish symptoms and marked changes in behavior. If you know someone who needs help or is in crisis please seek help. You could be the difference between someone seeking help or risking their life. Be positive! You’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊 -M Ps. If you have another three minutes for personal research I have created this anonymous survey https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/66K3QSL on mental illness. I would love for you to participate! Thanks in advance!