Bipolar Confessions from a Wife, Mother, and Friend.

I struggle with type 2 bipolar disorder.

Bipolar has transformed my life into a monumental challenge, and I feel guilty when it affects my family and friends.

Fatigue

Smiling, interacting, being part of the family unit or social circle… all can be exhausting. Between my medications and pushing through the day, I sometimes slip into a landslide of lassitude. Naps are not only a nicety, but a necessity…or neither. Continue reading “Bipolar Confessions from a Wife, Mother, and Friend.”

Outing My Bipolar Self

Friendships are hard for a bipolar, anxiety-ridden introvert.

Other than my years of being bullied, friendships were good overall. By 11th grade…and college…and early years of my career, friends were sprinkled throughout. Not many, but enough. None lasted, although I thought they would. As much as I tried to keep them near, they drifted further and further away. Eventually, I stopped trying. I’d converse with my colleagues at work, but doing anything outside of work or home became extremely rare. Continue reading “Outing My Bipolar Self”

When Depression Begins to Sprinkle

…grab your umbrella

 

I know my limits.

They strike more quickly than others’.

My energy is depleted by the end of the work day, and my time at home is then “wasted”. I say wasted because I want to be productive around the house: do the laundry, help make dinner, clean, play board games with the family, and such.

My “productivity”, though, often remains to be recuperation. Relaxation due to complete physical and mental exhaustion. Continue reading “When Depression Begins to Sprinkle”

My Brother, My Heart

My little brother. One of my earliest memories is the day he came home from the hospital. He had our mom on bed-rest for a long time, so I believe we were all ready for his arrival. I remember being in the family room, and mom was holding him low so I could see him. He held my little finger with his tiny hand, and I immediately fell in love. Continue reading “My Brother, My Heart”

Stress & Anxiety Leave Me Speechless

In 2001, I thought I was handling my recent stress and anxiety well. I was a 6th grade teacher in a low-economic, drug and gang-ridden community. The job equated stress. However, I loved my students, even the ones who challenged me to do so.

Over a couple of days that fall, I lost my ability to speak. I had recently been under the weather, so I wasn’t surprised that my doctor treated me for laryngitis. However, my voice never returned. Nearly a month had passed when my doctor finally recommended I see an otolaryngologist. Continue reading “Stress & Anxiety Leave Me Speechless”