A friend of mine who has experienced a severe form of bipolar disorder just sent me several private messages wherein he declared his intent to release and publish nearly two decades of mental health records, reports, and documentation of what he has experienced with his Bipolar Disorder. When asked what his intended purpose, he stated:
“Simply because of the existence of prejudice . . . “
He went on to discuss whether or not he would include his juvenile record and the two periods when homocidal ideations occurred during the manifestation of symptoms of his disorder. Initially, he stated intent to include it all. After a little reflection and consideration, he rescinded that intent and stated he would opt not to include those things for the following reasons:
” . . . cuz idiots will use it globally. Most people are simply too stupid to understand that thinking about something doesn’t mean the same thing as doing it. Condemnation of people for having certain desires and thoughts makes those doing the condemning the creators of those condemned. Truth is it doesn’t matter what a person’s thoughts are at all and the “thought then action” connection is a lie.”
This was my reply:
Complete transparency and destigmatizing means not omiting or editing, unapologetically taking ownership of all content, desires, thoughts, and actions. It means being willing to stand firm and fight the idiots and stop letting them decide the truth
You’re likely wondering by now where I’m going and what the point of this post is. Perhaps you think I’m making this another post about mental health destigmatization and awareness – which is only partially true. What is really going on is me working through all the issues of stigma in myself and my life at one time and realizing that the only way for me to fully and truly to move into healing and recovery, grow into my dreams and potential, and live a happy life regardless of what feelings and circumstances may be telling me, is to get naked – figuratively speaking of course.
Keith and I had another conflict tonight. One that has been building up over the intervening weeks and months since I took the initial step to leave back in December. It has been rapidly getting closer over the past couple of weeks and I fully believe that the past two days have been preparing me to face this moment, not without fear, but in spite of and because of it.
My granddaughter was born six weeks too soon according to her anticipated due date. On Friday of this week she will be three weeks old and has yet to leave the hospital. The job her dad had gotten just before she decided to come early fell through due to logistics, bad health, and bad luck. Her mom is on maternity leave from her part-time, minimum wage, tip supplemented job as a Dutch Brothers Broista, so while she’s still got her job, if she isn’t working, she isn’t getting paid. Their shared housing plans with others, younger than themselves, have fallen through as well. So, at this time, Luna and her mommy and daddy are basically homeless.
Despite the difficulties and complications it will create for all of us, I am not willing to let Luna be without shelter. Therefore, at this point in time, it seems inevitable that the three of them will land here with me until we can figure something else out. Which is partialy why they have started the Go Fund Me project to raise money to help them get into a place of their own, pay for two or three months rent, and give them a chance to return to work and find a job.
Keith has been increasingly agitated, angry, and vocal about his displeasure that I have not let him fully move back home. He seems to have completely forgotten the original agreement after I came back here with our daughter, formerly known as Luna whom I will now refer to as Pony Girl. He was to have his weekend time here with her, until he had saved up enough money to get into his own apartment. During the first three to four weeks of the arrangement, I would pack up my things for the weekend and go stay with a friend for two nights, returning on Sunday when he would leave. Then, that arrangement stopped working for my friend and I wound up having to stay here during his weekend time.
When he did his taxes and got his refund, he reasonably and justifiably put the money toward purchasing a used vehicle, getting the title and registration, and paying for six months of insurance so that he would be able to continue to go to and from work and be able to maximize his time with our daughter by not having to borrow his mother’s car all the time. He also replaced the thoroughly broken down and busted furniture in the apartment I live in full time with our daughter.
In February, a week before our snowbound experience, he began staying over from Friday nights through Monday mornings, also to maximize his time with our daughter. Ever since that time, he’s been reverting back toward active coupleship during his weekend stays: all three of us attending church services together, eating out, grocery shopping, shopping for our daughter, taking our daughter to movies together, etc. . . . and I’ve been letting it happen because I’ve been overwhelmed and overloaded emotionally, mentally, and physically.
Since I left in December:
- Pony Girl has been sick and missed school three times, the last time for almost three weeks because she was so ill that during a ten day period she barely ate or drank anything, went to the hospital twice, and finally got diagnosed with pneumonia on top of a severe upper respiratory viral infection.
- I reconciled then rifted three different times with my son and am currently in reconciliation.
- Had my son announce he and his wife were pregnant to be told almost two weeks later they had miscarried
- Had my daughter go into premature labor and my new granddaughter live the first few weeks of her life in NICU
- Had confirmation that Pony Girl qualifies for educational support services based on characteristics in four differentiating categories which identify as Autism Spectrum Disorder
- Get diagnosed with Type II Diabetes, Thyroid problems, and cholesterol issues, comprising three of four qualifying characteristics for Metabolic Syndrome
- Get confirmation from my therapist that the self-identified Bipolar and PTSD diagnoses are not in my psychosomatic imagination
- Discover that my mother was likely undiagnosed Bipolar Schizophrenic and that at the very least my grandmother experienced Trichotillomania
So, self-care and boundaries have kind of, sort of, in really big ways not been happening consistently or well for myself or with anyone I care about.
whoops! I just noticed the obscenely large word count and my eyes are drooping. To be continued . . .