If you’ve read my blog before then you probably know I struggle with Bipolar Disorder. Today I’m telling my Bipolar truth. I’m baring some intense details of my life.
I’ve been on a path of trying to find the right medication for roughly two and a half years. In those years I’ve gained about 30 pounds and a lot of grey hair. Times have been very trying and on a lot of days I felt like I wanted to go to sleep forever. Not necessarily dying, but sleeping, for a really long time. My bipolar truth is deep, dark and at times very scary. Some days it felt like the world was too heavy for me to carry and I couldn’t keep going. (You can read more about how that feels here .)
It’s interesting to hear/see peoples reactions when they find out my diagnosis.
I think people worry about the shift in mood. They worry what it’ll look like, and how it’ll affect them. But my bipolar truth is far more than mood swings. It’s far more than that. There’s so many parts about living with this disorder that aren’t talked about, nor understood. I think it’s time to change that.
So, I’m sharing with you some very raw and honest pieces that I’ve never shared before. I’m sharing my bipolar truth. Please don’t judge me harshly. I’m being transparent with the hopes to educate and help others understand, along with speaking up for the ones that have yet to find their voice or support.
My bipolar disorder makes it so difficult sometimes to do any self-care, right down to showering.
There are several days in a month that my husband runs a bath for me and washes my hair. The low is so intense that at many times I simply can’t move. My body aches. The weight of the disorder breaks me down, and at this point, self-care is the furthest things in my point. I’m breaking at this point. Beyond any repair. Bipolar takes away everything and makes my life a space I no longer want to exist in.
My bipolar disorder makes it so that I struggle to remember to even shower. My skin has gotten so irritated and infected solely from not bathing. If I said I don’t mean to do this, would you believe me? Do you know what it’s like to have no control over this? It’s not a matter of maybe I’m lazy. It’s that I can’t. My husband keeps track of when I last showered so that he can remind me to do it again.
On the outside my hair looks scruffy with wild curls, but on the inside, I’m broken and not able to take care of myself.
And even if you flip it, and imagine this task during hypomania, the difficulty comes with trying to concentrate and focus on the actual task. My bipolar disorder takes away my ability to take care of myself. It also takes away my ability to do things like volunteer and work. I always thought I’d volunteer in my children’s classrooms, but sadly I can’t. From the dark grey depression I carry, to the distractibility and lack of focus, these are tasks I can’t do no matter how hard I try.
I can’t go to school events like parent teacher alone.
I know my symptoms are “too loud” for lack of a better term. I get incredibly anxious being with people and struggle with maintaining and being a part of conversation. All emails from the school go to my husband and myself, because I will forget. Another thing I can’t control.
My husband attends my doctors appointments to ensure my doctor is able to get the whole picture and not just the side I will tell. Even if it’s things I don’t want to talk about, and are not proud of, my doctor needs to know in order to help me. My husband does this because I can’t. When I’m good, I’m SO good that nothing bad exists. And same for the opposite. So my doctor will only get half the story, when she needs the whole one.
My budget is handled by my husband.
It seems as if everything its to be honest. A lot of days I feel useless and like nothing but a burden. I can’t handle even a simple transaction. I can’t talk to the cashier. I make too many online purchases and now I need my husband to okay things. It leaves me feeling like a child.
This is only a small peek into my every day life. My entire existence is dependent on my husbands support. So what would I do if I didn’t have him? Isn’t that the scary part? I would be even more vulnerable. Please never stop fighting to get to a stable place. Never EVER stop fighting. Even when it feels like there’s no point, and believe me when I say I know this feeling. We gotta keep fighting.
Drop me a comment if you’re still here and fighting.