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uptake issues

Sunday, Sept. 14, 2014 @ 2:56 pm
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I haven't forgotten about this place, I've just had a lot going on.

Robin William's suicide really brought up a lot of things that were hard for me to think about. As someone who has stared down the rabbit hole to many times and lost someone who finally gave up as well as playing phone tag to stop my son's ex from jumping in (FAS is evil and really messes a person up).

People who haven't been there can't imagine what it is like to be so down, so distraught and depressed that logic has left the building and you feel like a burden, like there is a black shroud that will never lift and all there is to see is darkened out.

I always felt weird as a kid and adolescent, like there was some secret language among others that I didn't quite understand. It wasn't that I didn't get social cues or anything like that, and I was quite fluent in sarcasm (some might say it is my native language), but that I couldn't seem to be on the same waive length. I would take things the wrong way, or feel like odd girl out.

I had friends (and frenemies) but as childhood goes mine wasn't that horrible, just lonely and full of misunderstanding.

It wasn't until I got to college that I really suspected something wasn't right, and a wire was crossed somewhere. Of all thinks to put the clues together it was a celebrity bio movie of the week about Patty Duke (who now goes by her legal name) that put the pieces of the puzzle into a coherent place. I finally saw someone, who though she came from a very different place, acted much the same way I did. It was too familiar to be a coincidence.

Years later and after much more misery and poor choices I finally sought the help I need to confirm the diagnoses, and years after that for me to find the right professional and the right meds as well as the motivation to actually do something and take things seriously.

I wish I could say I was magically cured and lived happily ever after, but anyone familiar with mental illness and bipolar in particular knows that unlike some medical conditions it doesn't work that way. It's like diabetes or other conditions that are merely treated but last a lifetime.

It wasn't until after Mike's death that his mother confirmed what I had long suspected, that he too was bipolar but instead of seeking help, as chosen that path of self medication with pot, booze, and meth (occasionally other drugs) I preferred food as my drug of choice.

His father was also bipolar and that may have been part of what killed him as well. I also have an uncle (great or great great) I'm not sure which who was institutionalized during the early part of the 20th century when mental health care was more Nelly Bly than any real help).

So far Warren hasn't been diagnosed even though he's seen many doctors but I keep watching for the signs, and may be projecting out of my own fears and guilt from what his childhood was like.

Some days taking a shower and going to work are all I can manage. By the end of the day I am mentally exhausted as well as physically. Exercise and diet help, but it's not nearly as simple as it sounds in writing. My mojo likes to play hide and seek.

Some days the effort is more than I can manage, especially when the rest of the world is crumbling and I don't mean the major things like war and crappy economy but even the little things like respect and courtesy, respect of other people's views even when they wildly differ from yours. Things that should never go out style, but seem to be disappearing, make it harder to want to be out in the world.

I don't mean checking out permanently, just wanting to be a hermit at least partially. I haven't really gone to anything outside of work in ages. I've been invited to many things, but I always find a reason to stay home.

People who don't know just don't seem to understand. I'm forever grateful to those with the confidence to come out of the closet so to speak, and put a face to an invisible disease. It isn't a character flaw, it can't be treated "naturally" like some of my "nature only antivax friends think), it needs medication, medication we don't fully understand for a condition we don't fully understand.

People like Patty Duke and Carrie Fisher (who I've always admired) and others who show that we are not "crazy", just dealing with a brain that can't find it's chemical balance. We are productive citizens, who may be right next to you.

I'll go off on the media portrayal another time.


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In every neighborhood there is at least one house that all the neighbors gossip about. This is a diary from the woman who lives in that house. I am a single mother in her mid thirties. I live in North Dakota with my son, Warren.

I tend to be a bit of a slob, and am the opposite of a girly-girl. I am geek girl, who loves Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Buffy, Angel, action movies, science fiction, action adventure, Dr. Who, and so on and so on.

I love to write and while I don't post much fiction online anymore I would love to be a writer someday. I am also overweight, bipolar and suffer from allergy induced asthma.