Sarah… where are you?
I don’t feel like myself right now. I hate it. The worst part is that when I try to remember what feeling like myself is even means I can’t seem to remember. I just know it’s not this.
Looking back throughout the past few months I think there were a lot of signs that I missed, and I think I missed them because it’s been so long since I have gone through this. I’ve changed my appearance, I’ve been forgetful, and my sleep has changed. I know now that these are red flags for me.
I got angry this morning. No, it wasn’t anger, it was rage. When I get that way I can’t seem to filter what I do or say. When I come down from that moment I am beyond upset. It makes me think of my dad. We had the same temper… which is more than just a temper. I want to talk to him about it because I know he understood what it was like. I don’t know if he had Bipolar. Maybe not, but he and I were alike in a lot of ways. Not many people around me understand what it’s like. Even when someone thinks they understand they don’t. Reading a book about Bipolar Disorder is not the same thing as experiencing first person.
You know, when I stopped consuming alcohol someone told me that I would go through a difficult period where I would be forced to deal with my crap without a drink to hide behind and she was right. I didn’t want to believe her and I denied it in my head because I didn’t really have a drinking problem. I am not an alcoholic and I rarely drank anyway. The thing is that I consumed alcohol when I knew I wasn’t supposed to because of my medications. I knew I could not ever seem to find my limit and that I would feel awful for days afterward. I might not have had a “drinking problem” but I did have a problem dealing with alcohol when it was in front of me. None of this means I want to go out and have a drink. I don’t. This concept makes total sense to me, though.
Today I asked someone who I am because I can’t seem to remember. That person reminded me that I am a musician. I am an artist. I love family and food. I love my dog. I love hitting the mitts. I love fishing and I love hair and makeup. That’s a pretty good description of me.
I don’t want anyone to worry, even though I know some of you will. All I ask is that maybe you give me an extra hug… or maybe just say hello when you see me. I might lie and say I’m doing great when you ask, but trust me… the fact that you asked is enough for me. It truly makes me feel better.
Yesterday my friend and co-worker bought me lunch. I was having a really bad morning that included someone hitting my car and that small gesture meant so much to me. I am not asking that everyone buy me lunch (although, I won’t turn down food), but even something small to someone who is going through a hard time means a lot.
I appreciate everyone who has been there. I appreciate even the smallest gestures. I appreciate a good hug. I’m still here. I will be myself again… eventually. I promise.