So, has anyone ever experienced being diagnosed multiple times over the course of several years? I have been or am…. schizophrenic, schizoaffective, borderline, multiple other personality disorders with the ultimate topper of being Bipolar through and through. So where does that leave me? All I know is that two psychiatrists told me that I was the most Bipolar person they had ever met. This does not leave one feeling very good about themselves. It’s kind of like when I broke my nose and the doctor in California said, “It’s broken in, like, a million pieces.” Its just not very medically oriented to say these kind of things. I guess I could care less about my nose, but my brain? Can we just pinpoint it to one little thing? I know, lets just say that Jesse is a crazy person. “She is medically termed ‘crazy girl jesse’. Just sane enough to be let loose on the world and live her little crazy life.” See, I am not actually insane enough to be locked up. However, I am the type of crazy that makes people feel really awkward when you talk about your life. “How was your day, Jesse?” … “Well, I cried a little bit this morning then I perked up and then I went out and bought things that I will probably return, oh say… in about 2 days.” Someone please explain to me how any of this fits in with Facebook posts when everyone else is posting pictures of ACTUAL LIVES! Trust me when I say this… everything is going to be okay. everything is going to work out. It may not be working out right now, or even in a few months. You may even have to give it a year. But please know… things do get better. And when they do, you better damn well enjoy yourself.
I was able to get about 6 hours of sleep, which is pretty good for me. Also, I had no nightmares, night terrors or dream paralysis. I tend to wake up startled every morning as if I am surprised to still be alive. I had my normal 2-3 cups of coffee and set about my day. I was able to return a few books to Barnes and Nobles that I know I will not be reading in the anytime near future. This is lucky because I tend to spend my disability money quickly on a manic rampage through book stores. I came home and cleaned the entirety of the kitchen, which was a complete and utter disaster. It is so easy to feel hopeless when you have such a huge mess to tackle but cleaning, while irritating at the time, can be quite good for personal morale. I can literally see the difference I am making as I swipe down the counter and clean off massively abused dishes. I also discovered a spot where one of my cats has been peeing. oh my Mable, what are we to do with you? She is half blind and just a strange creature altogether. My mom found her on the side of the road in Lufkin, Texas. That was at least 8 years ago now. She manages, but really Mable, why so strange? I know for a fact that I am one of the strangest of the strange creatures, but at least I do not pee in secretive places. “Look, no one can see, so I can do this here and perhaps no one will ever find out.” Okay, Mable, perhaps you have a point. Maybe not so strange after all.
I just feel defined by this illness ever since I was diagnosed. It was six years ago… no, it was seven years ago. I have never been the same. I feel trapped. Trapped under this name, trapped in my house, trapped in disability. I am somebody. At least I was somebody. Now it’s just, “Hi, I’m crazy, I take too many meds to even enjoy a glass of wine, and I cannot hold down a job. Still interested in talking? No? I didn’t think so.”
My cats get to go outside, the dogs do too. They even make a lot of noise and climb on the furniture. If I did that it would be straight to the mental hospital. I just want my freedom back. I rely on these medications and all they have done is taken away my ability to think clearly enough to be the creative person I used to be. Can I do it just one time? Can I just stand in the street and scream? Can I do anything?