I wanted to write out some confessions. Maybe some of them are not really confessions but facts in my life. Maybe it will help you get to know me a little better.
They are things that I deal with, that, well maybe you do too. Maybe some of these will make you feel less alone. And maybe, just maybe they may help me feel a little better by writing them out.
When I was first diagnosed I was somewhat hypomanic. I had been in hospital for 5 1/2 weeks with severe depression. I came home in a sorta mixed episode, mostly down, a little up. I clawed my way out of the depression and into a more stable and then up mood.
I saw my psychiatrist who gave me my diagnosis of Bipolar – most likely type 2.
The following is the root of confession #1 and #2. I came home sat down to the computer and wrote the following on my Facebook page:
“I have Bipolar disorder, but Bipolar disorder does NOT have me, It does not control my life, but I can choose to control it, and I refuse to let it define who I am as a person.”
Confession #1: I wrote it because I wanted the world to know I was out of hospital and there had been a reason for being there not just “She’s Crazy” as I thought people were saying.
Confession #2: Even thought I wrote that quote on my Facebook I do Sometimes feel like Bipolar disorder does define me.
Confession #3: I sometimes wonder if past childhood trauma had a hand to play in my mental health problems.
Confession #4: I am afraid of the dark….well not quite like it sounds. But I get anxious if I am alone in the dark. I know the reason behind this but am not ready to share it.
Confession #5: I self injured for 7 years, starting when I was 13. In the end I was self injuring numerous times, almost hourly.
Confession #6: I attempted suicide when I was 18 years old. I realized after that I did not want to die, I just wanted all the pain and hurt to stop and I was fortunate to have been able to get help.
Confession #7: My husband literally saved my life. I know without a doubt that I would not be here today if I had not met him when I did.
Confession #8: When I got pregnant with our daughter I was in a bad place. That pregnancy changed a lot of things for me. The song by Martina McBride Sums up how I feel about that:
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter’s eyes
Confession #9: I hate, and I do mean HATE to the point of FEAR – Cabbage Patch Dolls, they are a huge trigger for me (yes I know why), I get anxious, my heart beats fast, I feel weak and get tingles going up my spine when I see one, or even a picture of one.
Confession #10: I have an almost identical fear of Ants – yes little crawling ants, black or red does not matter. I have had panic attacks over this little small bug – And yes I know why I have this reaction as well.
Confession #11: I sometimes like the hypomanic buzz that I get. The productivity. Being able to complete tasks quickly and more efficiently. New projects and researching things. (Until it gets really bad)
Confession #12: I do still have thoughts of self injury and have had slip ups since stopping. In fact the 5 1/2 weeks of hospitalization I spoke about earlier included self injury.
Confession #13: I hate odd numbers. Except 1. 1 is cool. The volume of anything has to be on an even number. If I purchase things it has to be in even numbers, unless I buy 1. Any more then 1 of anything is bought in even numbers, I prefer 6.
Confession #14: I have premonitions. I am serious. I get a thought, and if I do not act on it, something bad happens.
Confession #15: I have had eating issues all my life. When I was a child I barely ate, I was taken to drs but they said “She will eat when she is hungry”. Now I am a big woman and I go from binge eating, to eating very little several times a year. When I was in hospital I refused to eat. I lost 50 pounds (some was right before going in and a few after) and was very close to having a feeding tube inserted.
Confession #16: Sometimes when I look in the mirror I feel like I have lost myself and I do not recognize who is looking back at me. There was even a block of time when I refused to look in a mirror.
Confession #17: I was first diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Severe Depression, Suicidal idealization, and Self Injury tendencies when I was 18 years old.
Confession #18: I have used Alcohol in the past as an escape….but it almost always made things way worst.
Confession #19: Very few people know the circumstances behind my mental illnesses. I find it extremely hard to talk about. But typing or writing is much easier for me.
Confession #20: I am terrified that one of my children will have a mental illness and I fear that it will be my fault.