Finding some peace

Put on some armor, take a new med, go to group.  Get through each day, struggle at times, rinse, repeat.  I've survived some hard days and have come out on the other side without a hospitalization.

This gives me hope.

I don't understand the implications of past episodes, but can't help but feel situational circumstance played a much larger role than any new psychiatrist might've understood.

I am trying to read a few memoirs, still trying to paint some stuff, still trying to connect with the *right* people this time. God knows I deserve an improved horizon after everything that has happened this far.

Maintaining hope

The toughest thing about juggling mental illness and real life is maintaining hope.  When everything piles up simultaneously and stress moves into high gear and the possibility of an episode looms overhead.....

Making it all work somehow

Depression is setting in.  I better not write  anything else so as not to feed it.  It suffices to say:

I'm Depressed.  

Faking happiness is a hard thing to do, and I've reached my limit.

Moving on...

I had a crazy scary dream last night that I don't even want to share because it was a panic-causing one and I just don't want to give it any more thought.  Or put it out there in the universe (tiny little sector of the universe that is this blog space.)

I have been reflecting on the balancing act that is my life lately.  Somehow if I could blend the different components of my life into one solid, sturdy existence I would be in a much better place. 

There is my job, which has its frustrations but for the most part an environment that I enjoy.

There is my involvement in mental health advocacy, which is something new I am slowly delving into but have to be somewhat secretive about it because of stigma.

There is my creative self, which does not seek to do anything major on a large scale but rather connect emotionally with other artists' whose works I greatly admire.  I have come to admire the artists in close, intimate proximity of a safe place of art therapy group most of all.  It's a critic-free, highly supportive space where we encourage each other and never compete.  I'm not cut out for anything but that.

There is the survivor part of me.

There is the guide-to-another part of me. The unconditionally supportive friend to another that deserves more time and explanation somewhere, someday.  Or something else.

And finally, there is the curious, ever-learning child who is always wondering when she'll feel like a grown-up.  

Somehow, if all these facets of 'me' could tie up into one solid confident human being I could feel like I'm contributing and helping in some way.  Because i feel no significant worth unless I'm helping out somehow.  There's so much destruction and apathy and bad stuff out there that a good swift shift is needed for positivity to spread around where it's needed most.  And I believe it takes a lot of healthy whole well-balanced folks to start making that happening.

Peculiar Beginner's Luck

When I was learning archery in 9th grade gym class, I aimed at my first try and got a bullseye.

When I participated in an art show in my adult years, I fell into a strange conversation with a crazed curator and became delusional and landed in a psych ward.

When I went in for my very first baseline mammogram I was led to additional screening and diagnosed with breast cancer.

It's odd.  I feel most guided in life by intuition, but I also can't help but feel guided by more abstract things.  I still have a lot of questions about certain aspects of my life experiences thus far, but I feel comforted by the fact that I will always land on my feet again no matter what.  

Support groups

So I made time to try out another support group recently in this city.  There really aren't too many free or discounted mental health programs so support groups are a good option for people looking to connect with others facing mental illness.  There are waiting lists for lots of groups around town so obviously there are interested people out there seeking helpful groups as they cope with these really difficult illnesses.

A lot of people don't take mental illness seriously, and I just don't know why that is.  Also, it is my finding that there are many highly functioning people diagnosed with a mental disorder who run from the diagnosis and drop out of mental health entirely.

I think there's a strange sort of self assessment that goes on in some minds.  What do I mean?  Well, quite frankly, there are varying degrees of mental illness and people tend to focus on those with serious mental illnesses as their point of comparison of their own stability and measure of their worth.  

I have been that person with a serious mental illness on several occasions during psychosis.  And here's the thing: 

I still am that person with a serious mental illness.

I am currently in another facet of Bipolar1 disorder, and that is one of remission.  I take my medication and have developed coping strategies and included multiple types of therapy in my recovery.  But the fact that I have encountered breaks from reality on more than a few occasions which required taking medical leaves and being hospitalized will never leave me, nor my medical history.

And my insight into the "madness" that accompanied episodic periods of my life will always be there.

I know I can't work in the field without years of schooling, so I'm not going to even try.  I can't study well due to poor memory and comprehension and severe classroom anxiety.  So I know I will never have the respect of the Highly Educated in the field.  My experience will NEVER mean a thing to some psychology scholars.

But I can be there to offer an empathetic hand to people.   And maybe that's my role in all this?

I am a peer and ally in mental health.

Tough Love

So it's already mid-May and I have not contributed much to Mental Health Awareness Month.  I've been busy.  Lots of stuff going on and lots of realizations and such.

Getting help with mental illness can be the hardest thing a person might face in his or her life.  There are a lot of people out there who don't get honest with themselves.  And then to abruptly bring an outsider professional into the equation to tell you that You Are Unwell can create so, so much conflicting emotion.

But once the treatment begins, and the healing, and the revelations, and the awareness and the self care comes to fruition, life changes.  The fact of the matter is that a mental illness is a chronic condition, and while stability is to be found for many, it still requires work.  It's more than just swallowing a pill.  I have found a lot of men don't think that is true, but if some of them could try on a woman's insight for a day maybe it might change a mind or two.

And yes, sometimes that ol' Tough Love. Tough love isn't appropriate for everyone, so properly assessing someone's fragility is important.  

Anyway.   I have found the road to stability, for me, is in my interpersonal skills.  It requires my own 'mindfulness,' not just of myself but of each person in my space.  Instinct is a big part of my life, but it's not everything.  Communicating and learning about other people takes time.  As much of a cliche as it is, communication is EVERYTHING.

(The above is a photo of my Get Well Mobile Card that two of my former colleagues got together to make for me.  Recovering from surgery has given me lots of time for reflection... Lots of good old fashioned Mind Body Spirit/Soul work.)

May is Mental Health Month

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2003 in a rather traumatic way.  Co-workers made plans with me to get together for dinner, and when I went to our meeting spot, it was an intervention.

I just crumbled.  I fell apart.  Because I couldn't speak coherently while anxiety took hold, I ended up in a psych ward for two weeks, very heavily medicated.

It's taken a decade to get IN FRONT OF my mental illness rather than dragged behind it.  I'm not looking behind me, I'm facing the future.  It's a future of possibilities rather than that of limitations.  Yes, I live with a mental illness, but rather than focus on the disabilities it brings, I am harnessing the ways in which I can help others through the rough waters of diagnosis and finding appropriate treatment.

I have been a part of a wonderful art therapy group which will soon be going on summer hiatus.  In the meantime, I am taking advantage of my part-time work hours since my mastectomy and reconstructive surgery and heading to a few national organization support group meetings.

These are my first steps of getting involved.  I finally feel strong enough to do so.

The Answers I'll Never Find

Since being diagnosed with a mental illness in 2003, I have dealt with five medical leaves from three different jobs.  While this fifth current medical leave is due to breast cancer, I still find myself reflecting on oh so much.

I use art as my therapy.  Paintings and collage and mixed media projects help me cope with all sorts of emotions.  While they don't necessarily answer any of my questions, they help pose important questions.

People have woven their way in and out of my life.  Some get close, some are there for me, while others keep a safe distance.  I don't quite understand what is so dangerous about me that they feel so compelled to keep a 'safe distance,' but perhaps that's more of an insecurity in their part rather than mine?

If anything, I find myself grateful for my freedom.  I find myself grateful for my artistic freedom.  I've never achieved any success with writing.  I've never been assigned an editor who encourages me to change my story or further develop a character.  I've never had a music executive dictate what will breed more success on my next album submission.  I've never been controlled by a publicist, who speaks for me and advises me what I can or cannot do or say or think or feel. Maybe I'm wrong, and maybe it's not really like that.  But it's what I currently perceive the creative world to be.

So I guess I'll be grateful for my freedom.     I don't have the talent that our STARS possess, but I do have insight.  It's the insight that propels my silly art pieces that I create.  Guess I'll keep going with it.  Because I don't quite know what else to do with myself.

Medical leaves and creative projects

When I'm working full-time as a boutique manager and shopgirl, I don't seem to have the energy to come home and paint or write.  Now that I'm in recovery and will only be working a few hours a week for the next two months as my body regains strength and heals itself after cancer, I have the drive to paint and create again.

I'm still quite limited in mobility.  But standing at the easel serves me well.  I would love to write on a more serious level but until I rehabilitate my right arm, a paintbrush will have to do.

Everything I'm creating and embellishing right now tells a big story.  I have no idea if the world will ever see this stuff, nor can I think of an appropriate venue to display any of this.  It all belongs in a psychiatrist's study, where he would sit and over analyze all the delusions within...