I moved home again with my family a few weeks ago, but to explain where I've been means going back so far.
In March I found myself in a psychiatric hospital, but to explain how I got there means going back even farther.
- December, when I decided I didn't want this life, and took off? Further...
- July, when I found myself sinking into the worst depression of my life? Further...
- March of last year, when my sister committed suicide? Further...
- Age 21, when I started dating Tommy, and within 6 weeks decided to pack up my infant son and move across the country with him? Further...
- October 1998, when my Dad dropped dead in the driveway? Further...
- Age 19, when I lived with a lesbian drug dealer in a disgusting house filled with juvenile delinquents? Further...
- January 1997, my first suicide attempt? Further...
- May 1996, when I gave my first child up for adoption? Further...
- High school, where I gave my parents hell at every turn? Further...
- Age 5, when my parents divorced? Further...
- September 7, 1978, where I was born in a gush of blood, blue and lifeless? Further...
"I knit you together in your mother's womb." -Psalm 139:13
I guess the relevance isn't where it starts, but where it is going.
All things considered (and there certainly is plenty to consider here, isn't there?) things are going well today. Today.
Today, I said. That is what I am working on. Yep, I've got lots of Yesterdays to think about, but we'll get to that in a bit. Lord knows there are Tomorrows to plan for and look forward to, but thats gonna have to wait until I master the art of Today.
Today I am working on humility, and gratitude. Today I tell you how sorry I am for what I have done to hurt so many, and how grateful I am to feel forgiveness and compassion. Thank you. Yes, you.
In our home...it feels like I can't explain without going back.
Lets try this. Now I know I have bipolar disorder. The diagnosis was made after I narrowly escaped taking my own life, and finally started talking about the ups and downs in my life, my behaviors and choices. Specifically, how Laurie's death had triggered a deep, deep depression, and spiked back up with an equally scary mania. It was that in that, the worst manic episode I pray I'll ever have, that my mental illness took over everything. It wasn't that I went "psychotic" or "crazy" and turned into one of those people talking to themselves in the subway, it was that my brain turned on me while still letting me think I was in control. I started believing that I could have a different life. I started believing that I was a completely different person, and that the lies I was telling were just a part of the new world I was creating for myself. I still made my own choices, I was still Katie, still conscious...just so far removed from my own values, thoughts, and feelings that it was hard to even identify me. Today, I am back to a baseline. I am diligent in making sure that I get my medications stabilized and keep it that way. I am in counseling twice a week, and as truly painful as it is, I am being fervently truthful and brutally humble there. I have attended bipolar support groups, as hard as they are to pull myself to. I am acutely aware of how powerful this illness is, how it has rocked my world almost beyond repair. I am heavily reliant on and desperately grateful for my family, my mother most especially, for the unrelenting support and refusal to give up on me, even when I was far more than willing to throw in the towel on myself.
And so I am in my home, in my bed, safe. Some parts are coming back gloriously. Some parts of my progress are blooming well, and I am able to be proud of them. For example, my role as a mother. I am feeling confident, and capable, and proud of myself for dealing with my doubts. My kids are happy, and I am relishing my chance to step back into this role smoothly. It is an answer to some serious prayer, by me and many others, I'm sure. God has been good to me, very good.
Today. Tonight. I've gone back so far, and I know what I am looking ahead to.
