I got tired of feeling physically unwell every day due to my excesses. I got tired of chasing happiness, when quite clearly I was like a thoroughbred galloping full pelt down the wrong racetrack, so was never in any danger of sprinting over the happiness finishing line.
The running theme is that bipolar sucks. It seriously sucks. We are all battling like Mel Gibson in Braveheart with his painted face and bloody big shield to ward off the gremlin within us all. We are survivors.
GUEST BLOGGER – Alicia has shared in the most honest and genuine way, just what living with bipolar means to her. It demonstrates how different yet similar everyone’s experiences of the same illness can be. Thank you Alicia for being so brave in sharing your story. Continue reading “Guest blog – On the right path”
GUEST BLOGGER – Raw, real and heartfelt. This week’s guest blogger is all that and more, and I was once again reminded that everyone has their own story to tell, even when living with the same illness…
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GUEST BLOG – One of the wonderful things I’ve discovered since starting my blog is that you become part of a community. My guest blogger this week is Allie, is a 23 year old Dental Assistant who lives in Illinois. At the age of just 17, Allie was diagnosed with bipolar 2. Here follows Allie’s courageous and candid account of her journey so far… Continue reading “Guest Blog – Internal turmoil”
Right now though? Right at this very minute?
The truth is I’m hypomanic. It’s 4.08am and I’m typing like an olympic touch typist.
As some of you may know, a few days ago I blogged about being raped. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever written about. The following day I was so raw. So down. So numb. The most overwhelming emotion though, was guilt.
I’m going to do what I do when going into a cold swimming pool. I’m going to hold my breathe and jump straight in. Deep breathe. Jump.
14 years ago I was raped.
They’ve felt pain and heartache as they’ve witnessed the blackest of times in my life, and they’ve seen the equally alarming euphoria where at times they’ve found it hard to recognise me.
The bottom line was though, if I didn’t take some kind of action, this was going to be the shortest marriage in history due to me being so poorly (and consequently, extremely difficult to live with).