First off, prepare...this will be rather in depth and long and very personal(gulp) it may be jumbled and rambling at times, but that is how my mind works, I do, after all, have bipolar, Welcome to my madness. I am more nervous than you can fathom, I am setting myself up for speculation and negative at that, in a time in my life that can be destructive...but if I can bring hope to one person or information to another...this will be worth it.
So, with trembling hands, here I go.
If you have ever met me you probably know(or possibly noticed) these things. I have a raging country accent(that gets worse when I'm tired or had a drink and I start saying things like "I suwannee") I love purses. and jackets. oh, and boots. and if you ever compliment me on them, I will delve into a ten minute spiel as to how they were "originally $200 or so and I got them for $28" yada yada, I read around 10-12 books a week, I watch sportscenter 3/4 times a day, I am a terrible driver(hello, I am a woman, so I'm faultless here) I quote the most random facts( I am often times blissfully unaware of how "factless" my quotes are), I snort when I laugh, I talk with my hands, I forget I tell a story and I tell it again(haha lots) I am easy to please, I love the South and my heart is in the country, but my free flowing spirit was meant for the city, I adore my nephews, My husband holds my heart, Jesus stole my soul, I am such a terrible singer that I lip sync in church, don't judge, Jesus knows the words of my heart!!! My main vice is I have a foul mouth, I turn my heat to 80' when my husband leaves the house(in the summer, yes, Aimers, we all know I'm weird) I have insane and ridiculous food allergies, and ummm, yeah...I don't eat green, leafy things. I am uncoordinated. I love compliments, giving and receiving. If I'm wrong, I'll say it. I think cowboy boots are rad, I am a mean dancer...like Shakira says, my hips don't lie. I was a born dancing in rthymatic motion(let's not count that time when I was uber fat and I "got low" and had to stay low cause I needed help to get back up. shhhh people. shhh) I often get loud when I get excited. I hate UNC so much that I intermittently don't like a blue sky(but I do love my Crompton) I will out brag you on bargains. don't try. If I hurt someone's feelings, I cry. unless, you messed w/my mamma or something. My Yankee husband has evened me out.I love to cook, and I hate to clean...
but this is about the things you may not know. I was sexually abused by the son of a babysitter for 2 years when I was 3, I broke my leg in 6th grade, had to be home schooled and got fat(not in the p.h.a.t. way, more so the l.a.r.d.) when I was 14 I was brutally sexually assaulted, in 1994 at age 15, my mind was spinning out of control, the turmoil of my heart making no sense and I took hundreds and hundreds of pills, my two younger brothers found my in a grand mal seizure, I was rushed to a hospital, I suffered cardiac arrest and congestive heart failure, I survived but was left w/frontal lobe epilepsy. I spent a week in intensive care and was then put in a hospital, you know the kind, "mental ward, crazy unit, institution think girl interrupted I was diagnosed with bipolar and severe depression...thus would begin my 18 year battle w/hospitals, over medications different diagnosis and all out hell. I was anorexic, I spent the next three years in and out of hospitals(11 to be exact) I became involved in a very abusive relationship, I worked jobs and attended college and pulled off being "normal" for periods of time before the hell would begin to reign down again. I then became very ill b/c of my bulimia and was rushed from one hospital to another to treat what was considered the more "critical" illness at the time. It was one of the most hellish experiences of my life, my mom had to get a court order to have me released against dr.;s orders. I called 911 from this place, at the time, not funny, now, my mother and I laugh about it. I had tried roughly 25 medicine combinations at this point, I had dr.'s saying I had one thing, then another saying I didn't...I was 19 and I decided that this was my burden in life and since I sucked at successfully killing myself(I tried 4 times) that I would pretend to be happy, I would be the girl I was supposed to be.
I met my husband when I was 22. He was(and is) better than I deserve, even in my heartbreaks, my anger, my illness having such a hold over me, even when he loves me in a way I need but can't see at the time...the Lord gave him to me, I survived b/c of him and in spite of myself. He knew my ugly past(although not the true depths of how ugly, remember I wear a mighty fine mask) and he saw past my flaws and loved me anyways. And I thought I could beat my illness, I thought I had a hold of it. I didn't need medicine to be "normal" and oh, how wrong I was, it slowly but surely began to have me in the depths of it's grips again. and the thing with mental illness is that we're often the last to see, it hides in our inner workings...it is the enemy within. I pulled it off for a while, then infertility happened, and after a 7 year struggle w/endometriosis and fibroid tumors that led to a miscarriage, my ability to pretend had forsaken me. The hole in your heart when you so desperately yearn for a baby is indescribable, if someone has never encountered it for themselves, you won't get it. and it is enough to send a person who has never suffered from any form of mental illness to their knees. for me, I skipped my knees and went straight to the floor.and I wept to Jesus, over and over. at the time I thought he wasn't fulfilling Jeremiah 29:11, it wasn't till later I realized he was saving me from myself(you know, that whole, "he knows what he's doing thing")
Last year is when the out of control spiral of my life finally caught up, I was barely coherent, the simplest, most mundane tasks such as washing my hair was enough to leave me in a heap on the floor, bawling. I had no control over my thoughts I never cleaned, I left my house unkempt; flip flops, yoga pants and stained t shirts. I began isolating myself from everyone. And a lot more that was far from the woman of character I believe myself to be. and I knew that if I didn't get help that I would try to end my life once again, b/c once your illness is full on, it's not a choice you make, your illness makes it for you, every thought you have is illogical.
and so for 8 days, I went back to where I swore I would never go again.."the crazy pad" and it started off the same, so drugged up I fell asleep when my husband visited me, vomiting and shaking uncontrollably from the side effects. I remember thinking that was it, it would always be this way. There was no way out...then this strange thing happened, the dr.'s actually listened to me, they took me off the medicines that I reacted to in a negative manner and kept me there till I was stabilized. and then, the Dr.'s at Duke led to the one person who would show me that I could in fact shape my future and let go of my past, one Colleen Sloan. The 28 year old intern who would change my life, a little at a time. I was diagnosed w/PTSD from the traumas of my childhood and for the last 14 months I have been treated for that, alongside my bipolar. PTSD treatment is the inner depths of Hell, and later this week I will delve into the topic, I'll be more specific, but for right now, it's giving me on one thing that my entire life always evaded me...hope. So you see, Jer 29:11 was there the whole time, I just couldn't grasp it.
The next few days I will write entries that are more in depth about ptsd treatment, hospitalizations and infertility. I will also write a few food blogs, as that is the purpose of my blog, this week is just an anomaly, but one that is important to me...
I would love to hear your thoughts or comments, feel free to leave one or to email me if you have a more in depth sentiment. It would mean a lot. my email is email@example.com
and if you would consider giving to the walk this weekend, my friend Jeremy is walking again this year, last year he did it soon after I got out of the hospital and only later did I learn he walked in my honor...to date it is one of the most meaningful "gifts" anyone has given me. if you can't give a monetary gift, your thoughts are appreciated! if you are able to give, here is the link to his donation page:walk for hope donation link
Feel free to forward this along to anyone who may want to read it...
and the next time you call somebody crazy, just remember, this is what it actually looks like...
Pretty awesome, I know;) duh.
and just remember tomorrow is time time to make some whoopie!, that's right, whoopie pie Wednesday and it's pumpkin caramel.