September Reflection

I’m sitting in my new favorite coffee shop, waiting for my lavender latte. It’s unusually crowded today, full of mostly elderly men and women out for their morning joe.

I’m munching on some gluten free pumpkin bread as I wait for my drink. The woman at the counter asked me if whole milk was okay in my latte and I said yes, because I know now just how much more delicious that makes any kind of coffee drink. And if you’re paying five whole bucks for a hot drink, it better be delicious.

There was a time, though, when I wouldn’t have been able to say yes to whole milk (especially if I was also saying yes to the bread too). That kind of question would have raised an entire moral dilemma, a mini crisis that could have diverted the course of my day. And I want to put emphasis on “moral crisis” because that is what it always was for me: a decision between right and wrong, pure and corrupt, good and evil. There absolutely was no middle ground. I scoffed at “moderation” because that did not exist in my black and white thinking.

April Reflection

We got family pictures taken last weekend. I found matching outfits for the boys to wear, these ridiculous but adorable striped rompers that I couldn’t resist. The picture session itself went fine, about as you’d expect something like that to go when you have a toddler who doesn’t like to sit still. I went great lengths to get the boys to look at the camera—jumping up and down, waving my arms, making monkey noises, and twirling in circles.

Strength

I can think of the two most vulnerable places I have been—the Birth Center and the psychiatric hospital. I wouldn’t have anticipated them being so similar, but somehow the experiences have become connected in my memories. I arrived at one because I wanted to end my life and arrived, six years later, at the other because a new life was about to begin.

Anxiety: Giving Myself Grace

Many of you have heard Rob’s and my good news: we’re expecting! I’m 14 weeks along, so just beginning my second trimester. After a miscarriage, pregnancy can feel like a tentative and uncertain thing, but as the weeks have gone by, we’ve become more confident and I’ve allowed myself to get excited.

But I feel like there are two people living inside my head right now. One person is more happy than she’s ever been before: I can’t wait to have a baby and February can’t come soon enough. That person, though, is wracked with self-disappointment and anxiety. Pregnancy and mental illness can be a bad combination. 

5 Things I’ve Learned about Myself After 5 Years with Bipolar Disorder

This month marks five years living with Bipolar Disorder. On one hand, I can’t believe it’s been that long. I can still remember sitting in that physiatrist’s office, smelling that cinnamon candle, and hearing the diagnosis for the first time. On the other hand, I feel like I’ve had Bipolar disorder for a lot longer than that. I’ve been taking time to reflect on these past five years. Life is a lot more complicated than it once was. I’m a different person now. Life has forever been altered. All of that is true. But what else have I learned about myself?

Five things:

• 1) I’m less resilient