Today we are going to talk about grief. Not necessarily grief from the loss of a loved one, but grief of the diagnosis. In these past four months I have been trying my damnedest to be healthy and stay well. I had made sure that I was not only continuing to take my meds, but I was also maintaining healthy habits such as exercising (yoga and running), meditating, and additional stress relieving activities like my new found hobby: knitting. I have tried to be patient and kind to myself and have worked with my psychiatrist to increase and adjust medications to help me get over this bump. But as I found myself continuing to go deeper or simply stay in the “pits of despair” I found myself moving into the same mind-frame that I experienced when I was first diagnosed with bipolar. I found myself feeling, to put it simply, angsty. I found that I was reverting to the teenage-angst felt when life just doesn’t seem fair. When you realize, why me? And why now? I found myself getting angry at whoever or whatever has done this to me. And if there is no one to blame, then just why? And though I continually feel that my bipolar is part of me, though not all of me, and that I wouldn’t want to get rid of it. I simply wanted it to go away, or even a little while.
So I suppose my question to the world is, and specifically to anyone suffering from a chronic condition or disease, how do you cope and come to terms with the fact that you may continually have dips in your health, even if they continue to become increasingly easier?
I know that for me they have become easier, this is by far better than my initial diagnosis, but it is still terribly frustrating sometimes to know that I may have this occur again and again. All I know is that I will get through this and it will continue to get better, but some days, on my most 13-year old angst ridden days, I can only continue to say, this sucks.