Bi polar type 2, divorce, isolation, loneliness, marriage therapy



What does it look like to be free of you?
What does it feel like to be ok, alone?
That ache in my chest
It begins inside of me.
Why do I feel it as soon as I leave your presence?
Sometimes, it’s there when I’m right next to you.
Breakfast with a friend,
You and me talking about our days, 
Fellowship meetings,
Getting little love bouquets. 
If I’m so lonely with you here
How will I stand it when you’re gone?
It begins inside of me.

Is this loneliness, or is this sadness?
Does this feeling have anything to do with you?
Or anyone?
It begins inside of me.
Bi polar type 2, humor, Instagram, living authentically, mental illness, social media, social stigma

8 Cents


It’s funny how the guy at my pharmacy suddenly became super nice, ever since I got my new prescription filled…. the one that costs eight cents.  He’s always been polite, but a bit checked out, the many times I’ve come to fill other prescriptions for my kids or myself.  But, ever since this new prescription came through, he makes eye contact, smiles and is very friendly.  I don’t know if it’s because he feels sorry for me, he’s scared of me, or he can relate.  Whatever the case, I must admit I do appreciate his new level of warmth, because the whole experience is humiliating from beginning to end.

First, requesting my prescription and knowing that he knows what it is and why I need it.  Then, pulling out my debit card to pay for it and remembering that it only costs eight cents.  I guess they want to make sure that someone who needs this medicine would never not get it because of money.  I should be grateful, right?  And I am.  I’m grateful to be known, even if it’s just by the pharmacy guy, and to still be liked, or at least treated like I matter.  I’m grateful that I only have to pay eight cents, and I’m grateful that the medication is helping.  I’m sleeping better, I’m waking up feeling rested, I feel more able to handle the daily tasks of life, and my paranoid and obsessive thinking is fading away and losing its hold.  I am choosing to stay in reality, and I am seeing the good things in my reality every day.

My thoughts keep drifting back to this pharmacist, and why his kindness impacts me so much.  I guess it has to do with my deep desire to live an authentic life.  To be truly known, loved and accepted.  I’m realizing that I don’t live authentically in my marriage.  I’m afraid to tell my husband the full truth of my feelings because I’m afraid of the consequences.  I’m afraid of losing the good things that I have, and that we have built together.

In some strange way, I feel like I got the experience of being authentically known when I was sharing my heart publicly on my blog and connecting it with my reality through Instagram.  I knew that the duality of my life, the irony and the conflicting messages were on display.  Yet, people stayed with me, and for some reason that made me feel loved and accepted.  I felt known.  I really miss that.  My psychiatrist told me, no more Instagram for now.  He says that the stimulation keeps me in a heightened state.  I learned the hard way that staying in that heightened state for too long can shift my thinking.  Maybe because I was not sleeping and was hardly eating… I guess it would be hard for anyone to think clearly under those circumstances.
But, I haven’t lost my desire to find a way to go back, to connect with my authentic self, to connect with others, to find my tribe.  I just have to figure out how to do it in a way that’s healthy for me.
But back to my pharmacist… I know why his behavior impacts me.  Most of my friends have no idea that I’m being evaluated and possibly diagnosed with bipolar type 2 disorder, and that I’ve been prescribed medicine for it.  The few who do know have been supportive, as would be expected.  But, I definitely don’t feel a sense of them moving closer to me because of it.  If anything, I feel an increased sense of distrust from them.  This probably has a lot more to do with my own insecurities than their true feelings.  But for some reason, this pharmacist seemed to like me more because of it.  It was unexpected and touching.
Bi polar type 2, cognitive behavioral therapy, escaping reality, grief, loss


“I don’t have to like reality, I just have to accept it,” (A quote from a book that has helped me a lot recently.)

I need to write.  I need to share my heart and my feelings, first with myself and then with trusted friends.
I’m missing him.  I’m missing the attention, the affection, the longing, the excitement, the challenge, the mystery.  It made me feel important and alive and valued.  I felt known and understood or misunderstood but accepted and wanted.  I’m missing that, and I’m missing the fantasy of what he might be thinking about me, the fantasy of what others might be thinking about me or about us.  I miss the fantasy of what he and I could have together or be together, even if it was just in a virtual world.  But, I knew that the virtual world wasn’t enough for me.  I wanted to know who he was in reality.  I wanted to try to build a life with him in reality.
This is where acceptance comes in.  In my reality, the virtual world was sucking the life from my real world and from me.  As time progressed, I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t eating enough, I wasn’t cleaning my home or nurturing my children the way that I typically would.  I wasn’t interested in my husband or my marriage.  I wasn’t interested in my friends or family.  Over time, all I cared about was my online personality and online relationships. I felt like my online personality was really the real me.  Maybe that’s because I was still hiding the real me from the real people in my life, except for one or two people I really trusted.
As I got deeper into my online world, coupled with extreme naivety, I began to become suspicious, then paranoid, eventually I got the the point that I thought people were following me, thought my phone was being hacked, I even thought people had broken into my apartment and planted cameras.  I was losing it. Correction: I had lost it.  At this point, I opened up to my husband about everything that had been going on, because I was scared.  I even told him about feelings I was developing for a man online.  Next, I shared all of this with my psychologist and then a trusted friend.  The next step, was meeting with a psychiatrist for the first time in my life.  It was terrifying for me because my mom has schizophrenia and my biggest fear has always been that I would develop it.  I told the psychiatrist everything and he reassured me that I definitely don’t have schizophrenia.  But, the thing he said that sent me reeling was no more Instagram, and I had to cut off ties with the man that I felt I had made a connection with (in my mind and in my heart it was an emotional affair, at least on my part).  I never really knew where I stood with him, if he had feelings for me or even if he noticed me.  Maybe I was just some stalker in his mind.  Ugh! How humiliating.
So, accepting my reality is accepting that I can’t continue to try to build a connection with this man and keep my mental health intact at this point.

My health matters.  I matter.  My mental health matters.  I say this because up to this moment my only real motivation for staying off-line has been my fear of not being able to care for my children.  I love them so much and they are enough to keep me off of Instagram so far.  But I’m miserable.  I want to see that God is leading me to my greatest me.  That I am enough to be the reason.  That my health does matter.    My sanity matters.  I’m trying to trust my God.  To believe that He has something wonderful and better for me.  What I’m left with right now is not wonderful or better.  I’m left with the misery of my unhappy marriage and the tug of the comfortable lifestyle that makes me keep settling.

I like who my husband and I are to the outside world as a couple.  I like the money we make, the friends we have and the lifestyle we live.  I like the fun that we can have when we do things together with the kids. My husband is a great and attentive dad.  I like the way that he helps out with the kids and the chores; and I think about how hard it would be doing it all on my own.

I don’t want to accept the fact that I’m not happy in our marriage.  I don’t want to accept the fact that he doesn’t always give me freedom to do what I want and spend how I want.  It took someone else pointing it out before I realized that it’s all very controlled.  Is this just his way to keep me his?  For example, he has no problem with me dropping a couple hundred on shoes, clothes or salon, but he flips out when I want to spend $45 on a babysitter so I can attend a fellowship meeting for my own personal growth and support.
I have to accept that I feel like he has been controlling and isolating when it comes to me and the outside world.  I don’t think this has been intentional and I know I play an equal part, or even a larger part in my own isolation.

As I’m writing these things about my husband I am feeling fearful, (I’m not sure of what) and I want to reach out this other man.  I guess I look at him as my savior to rescue me from my husband and my marriage or at least distract me from my own misery.

I have to accept that the savior is a fantasy in my mind.  I don’t know who this person is or even how he feels or thinks about me.  I don’t know if this person is safe or unsafe, available or unavailable in reality.
I need to accept that the only people I have are my God, myself, and the circle of trusted friends.