Wrong Door, Right Place 2

This is the link to the original post where I spell out what it’s like in my brain: https://maremartell.com/2019/09/04/wrong-door-right-place/

Something broke inside of me when I was in the hospital. Putting a picture to it makes it appear like a telephone pole sized railroad tie, black with char and tar from the fire. The intensity of the fire had been screaming sirens at me, but I kept limping away trying to protect myself. My defenses, my being, my very existence felt like I was experiencing a transformation on such a primitive level.

One of my favorite ways to respond to people I find difficult, ignorant, or…good lord I’m arrogant, is to pray that their hearts break open with the light of love and that their eyes see the clarity of truth. I’ve been praying like this for several months. I don’t want harm to come to the people I disagree with, so I wrote this to love them instead.

I was talking to my person, Jen while we discussed her life events and our thoughts on it. Somehow we got onto the topic about bipolar disorder which she vocally advocates for education of people regarding mental illnesses.

I shared with her that I suspected something was amiss because I could have a great day until about 3:30 in the afternoon. Then everything falls to shit. I become weepy, irritable, unkind, hilarious, and back to flying high on five projects spread out before me. Truthfully, I AM working on all of them, so there is that.

She asked if I’d ever been diagnosed with bipolar disorder or manic-depressive as it used to be called. I have not but it has been suggested to me a few times.

She got a book about hypomania, what it means, how it felt, and what they would experience. She read through the entire passage and I was on the other end of the conversation sobbing soul truth about the intensity of epiphany. She further suggested rapid cycling because I swing throughout the day.

If this is an accurate diagnosis and is medically confirmed, I feel hope for the first time since the break up with my old self. I mean I really believe that what broke that day were all my preconceived notions about what really is me. It broke me wide open to accept new possibilities that I hadn’t realized before that moment.

Truth, as each of these lost parts of me are fitting their pieces back where they’ve belonged, it’s a giddy feeling. I am discovering new things about me at 51! I’m both blown away with gratitude I couldn’t feel when the darkness overcame my light.

There are so many things that can be attributed to the self diagnosis. You see, I thought mania ALWAYS meant hyper-mania. I didn’t know there were such thing as HYPO-mania. Although technically one isn’t bigger than the other, it’s based on, from what I understand so far, the size of the wave.

Hyper-mania is like a hurricane where hypo-mania is like a tornado. Both are horribly damaging but statistically, a hurricane is more likely to wreak more havoc. I’m a tornado force sustained winds until I run out of air and have to fight to catch my breath because it keeps trying to escape permanently.

I am fine. I found this in my notes from a few years ago when I wasn’t fine. It seemed potent and intense which is how impotent and disconnected I felt.
This entry was posted in Human.

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